PRIVATE JOHN COLE, USMC
Iwo Jima, D-Day Plus Eighteen
9 March 1945
Most of us had only been in the Marine Corps six or eight months. When I landed it was the sixth day of the battle. The beachhead had been occupied for almost a week. I went back down to the beach, where the first supplies unloaded were ammunitionâmachine gun ammo, rifle bullets, mortar shells, and shells for the howitzers. Then all kinds of rations.
After a week in shore party, we were sent to various regiments of the 3rd Marine Division. When we did that, we came under mortar fire almost immediately, which was a frightening experience.
Some of us went off with an NCO and we were blowing caves. Our task was to take white phosphorous grenades, throw them into the caves through whatever openings there were, and follow that up with blocks of TNT, which we used to collapse and seal the openings of the caves. And if that didn't kill them, the smoke and the fumes would asphyxiate them. Sealing the caves prevented them from climbing or digging out.
Then a group of us were assigned to work with the graves registration detail. We did not dig graves or put people in graves; we never saw
the graves the bodies ended up in. Our task was to carry the dead off the battlefield and get them back to regimental headquarters, where they could be identified, if possible. We checked their dog tags, their last name stenciled on the breast pocket of their uniforms, and sometimes their equipment, packs and so on. Besides that, and by means of their personal effects, identification was generally established.
We had a four-wheel-drive truck with an open bed in the rear. It carried about a dozen stretchers, which were so stained with blood and bodily fluids from the wounded that they were no longer suitable for that purpose. These were given to us to carry out the bodies. So our task was to climb aboard the truck and ride as close to the line as we could get. Then we'd park the truck and get somebody to tell us where the last known men had been killed. We'd take the stretchers and walk until we found them.
As long as there was light, and there were bodies to be found that could be gotten out, we'd go get them. Carrying the bodies down the terrain was difficult. The ground was completely broken by all the shell-holes and gouges. The terrain was rugged and rough to begin with so it was a physical burden to carry these guys.
And then we'd roll them or lift them onto a stretcher, typically two men on a stretcher. We'd go back to the truck, load the bodies, maybe eight men, and we'd have to hold and balance the load as the truck bounced along.
Typically the bodies that we picked up had been dead for anywhere from three to six days. It wasn't until that ground was taken and held that anyone could get in and recover the bodies.
Because of that delay, the bodies were bloated and crawling with maggots. The maggots were under the skin and crawling in their eyes, and beyond that, bodily fluids leaked out and skin was separating. Things would swing against you, and you'd get these fluids on your body, on your uniform. And we only got to wash them once in thirty days. So we learned to live in that atmosphere, eat our food, ignoring the flies buzzing off the bodies and onto our food.
But the smell was probably the worst. It's so intense that sometimes you'd literally gag and have dry heaves. You shut down your emotions and your feelings to the extent that you can, because you have a task to do. It is shocking, and at one point or another you say to yourself, “I wonder if they'd send me to the line, it might be better to be dead than to be doing this.”
It was mind-boggling to see the destruction. It gives a feeling that life is cheaper than dirt. And since I only dealt with the dead, all I saw was the inevitability of death.
I did that from about 3 March through 27 March, the day I left the island. By the time we came under fire and started to deal with the dead, the idea of war as a romantic adventure was long gone.
If I had been one of the guys who ended up in a line company, I heard that the probability of being wounded or killed was ten times higher.
Yes, the worst is the smell. When I finally left the island, I escaped the smell but not the memory of the smell. I promised myself never to forget that smell, never forget the men, and never let it happen again.
U.S. MARINE ASSAULT FORCE
IWO JIMA
D-DAY PLUS FORTY
31 MARCH 1945
1330 HOURS LOCAL
The total of thirty-six days of fighting on Iwo Jima resulted in 19,000 U.S. troops wounded or MIA and 6,825 killed in action. The Marines had been fighting in combat for four years, but hereâin just a monthâthe U.S. Marines suffered a third of all their casualties of World War II.
“Doc” Bradley, the Navy corpsman, in a letter home to his folks, wrote: “I never realized I could go four days with no food, sleep, or water, but now I know it can be done.”
Bradley was the only one of the three surviving flag-raisers on Iwo Jima who resumed a normal life after the war. He summed up his assessment of
the battle when he told his nine-year-old son upon his return, “James, I want you to always rememberâthe heroes of Iwo Jima are the guys who did not come back.”
Bradley returned to America to a hero's welcome by President Harry Truman, who sent Bradley and the other two survivors of the Iwo Jima flag raising on a war bond tour of thirty-three cities. Truman gave the men the impossible task of raising $14 billion in war bonds, which represented 25 percent of the national budget. The men accepted the responsibility and raised not $14 billion but $26 billion in two monthsâamounting to 47 percent of the U.S. budget.
Iwo Jima was one of the bloodiest battles in modern history. More Marines died there than in any other battle in the Pacific in WWII. And more U.S. Marines earned the Medal of Honor on Iwo Jima than in any other battle in U.S. history, while thousands of Marine veterans of that battle were awarded the Purple Heart. Twenty-seven Medals of Honor were awarded to Marines and sailors of Iwo Jima, many of them posthumously. Admiral Nimitz would remark after the battle, “Among the men who fought on Iwo Jima, uncommon valor was a common virtue.”
The Navy also lost two of its carriers at Iwo Jima. The famed USS
Saratoga
was hit by a kamikaze aircraft and sank. The escort carrier USS
Bismarck Sea
was likewise sunk. The Navy lost more than 1,000 sailors to the kamikaze attacks.
The Japanese defenders suffered 21,000 casualties, most of whom were killed in action. Surprisingly, in contrast to other island battles, more than 1,000 Japanese soldiers surrendered, despite their strong adherence to the samurai code.
And, as was the case on Tarawa and Peleliu, some Japanese stragglers hid in the caves until well after the war ended. The last two Japanese soldiers on Iwo Jima surrendered four years after the battle.
After the initial assault, the Marines didn't break through the last Japanese lines until 9 March. Iwo Jima wasn't declared secure until 26 March, following a banzai attack near the beaches. The Army's 147th Infantry Regiment relieved the Marines and assumed ground control of the island on 4 April.
After Iwo Jima was declared secure, more than 2,000 B-29 aircraft were able to make emergency landings on the island during later bombing raids of the Japanese mainland. These actions saved as many lives as there were total casualties in the Battle of Iwo Jima.
Chaplain Roland Gittelsohn said it best during the dedication of a battlefield cemetery on Iwo Jima:
Somewhere in this plot of ground, there may lie a man who could have discovered a cure for cancer.
Under one of these Christian crosses, or beneath a Jewish Star of David, there may rest now a man who was destined to be a great prophet. Now they lie here silently in this sacred soil, and we gather to consecrate this earth in their memory.
Here lie officers and men, black and white, rich and poor... here are Protestants, Catholics and Jews. Here no man prefers another because of his faith, or despises him because of his color. Here there are no quotas of how many from each group are admitted or allowed. Theirs is the highest and purest form of democracy.
Unfortunately, at the end of March, although the Marines of the 3rd, 4th, and 5th Marine Divisions had secured Iwo Jima, they had no time to celebrate or even catch their breath.
The next island assault landingsâon Okinawaâwere just days away.
CHAPTER 17
OKINAWA: THE LAST BATTLE
(APRIL 1945)
U.S. MARINE ASSAULT FORCE
OPERATION ICEBERG
1 APRIL 1945
1030 HOURS LOCAL
T
he morning of 1 April 1945 was Easter Sunday. It was also April Fools' Day.
Events on the two fronts were irrevocably bringing the world war to an end. In Europe, U.S. troops had encircled remaining German troops in the Ruhr Valley and the Soviet army had surrounded the capital city. In a Berlin bunker, Adolf Hitler and his henchmen were preparing for an ignominious end to their evil campaign for conquest of the West. 1 April was also D-Day for the Allied offensive into northern Italy, as the Axis began to crumble.
But for the more than 200,000 American soldiers, sailors, and Marines heading to Okinawa, it was “L-Day”âLanding Dayâfor a campaign the war planners called Operation Iceberg. Okinawa is the main island in the Ryukyu Islands group, halfway between Formosa and Kyushu. Tokyo was committed to the defense of Okinawa as long as they could. They sealed that determination with plans for maximum use of kamikaze attacks.
As the Allied troops aboard the invasion ships pressed closer to Okinawa, their officers stressed the importance of taking this final island, that it would help end the war. But they were also brutally honest. In light of the casualties inflicted at Iwo Jima, there was no reason to expect anything less at Okinawa. The question plaguing the Americans was how to fight an enemy so dangerous and so desperate that he was willing to kill himself in order to destroy you. The answer seemed obvious: The only option was to fight to the deathâjust as the enemy planned to do.