My son on Iwo Jima.

I forgot to include the letter he wrote with it.

[FONT=.SF UI Display][FONT=.SFUIDisplay-Semibold]Still processing this amazing day...so many things I saw and learned. What sticks out most is trampling up the dark sands of Red Beach in the shadow of Mt. Suribachi where my 101 year old grandfather (the second oldest WWII vet in the US) did over 72 years ago as part of the Marine Corps 5th Division. One huge difference is I was in hiking clothes carrying a camera; he was in full combat gear carrying a machine gun and lost a friend next to him during the ascension. Another significant difference is I had an air conditioned van waiting at the top crest of the very steep beach; he had 20,000 Japanese waiting for and shooting at him and the 70,000 other U.S. troops invading this tropic, volcanic patch of rock and sand on 19 February 1945. It's an understatement to say I have a better appreciation for what both the American and Japanese endured for those 5 weeks in 1945. It certainly changed the lives that it did not end. I am both humbled and honored at the same time for this experience. The memorials are both poignant and touching. Pictures to follow once they get downloaded from the camera.[/FONT][/FONT]
 
Thanks for sharing your Son's letter, Pappy! We can only imagine the hell that it was. Thank God for men like your Dad!
 
Wonderful photos and letter Pappy, thanks for sharing those special moments and special thanks to your Father.
 
Back then, the military fought "for the soverignty" of the U.S. When I was in Vietnam, I never knew exactly what we were fighting for. I did spend my last 6 weeks in a hospital in Okinawa. I was hit by sniper fire and he didn't miss. I almost became a one-armed man. I was lucky enough to have been worked on by a 49 year-old doctor who just happened to be at that hospital teaching other doctors if and when to remove a limb and he worked on me to save my arm.

The doctor that worked on me was from Johns Hopkins Hospital, which is about 60 miles from where I lived at that time. When I got back home, I called to ask if he was still on staff and I found out that he was. I told his receptionship who I was and that I wanted to come down and surprise and to thank him again. She set it up at the end of the day just a few days later. My Dad went along. When we met him, we ended up eating dinner in the hospital's commissary.

I would like to talk with your Dad sometime. I bet he has some really good stories. I don't talk much about the crap that I was in. It brings back too many bad memories. My Dad was career Army and was in three wars, however, although he was in Vietnam, he was mostly in administration. We were not there during the same years.

Great pictures.
 
Pappy---I went to bed last evening thinking about your pictures and one thought came to mind. In the picture that shows your son looking down on the beach, I was wondering if he was thinking about what had transpired there during the '45 campaign. There is no doubt that the taking of Iwo Jima was a major victory for the U.S.

I always had the utmost respect for the Marine battalions that stormed the beaches. A person has to be very brave and courageous to come ashore in a landing craft and storm a beach with an "X" amount of enemy soldiers firing at you. It makes me wonder how many men never made it to the sand.
 
The one photo where Jeff, my son, is looking down on the beach is where the American flag was raised by our marines. I know this made an impression on my son as he was in tears when we talked about it.

I was too young to remember a lot about what was going on, but I do remember my mom reading letters from dad before he landed on Iwo. He told mom that he probably wouldn’t be returning from the war. I think this may have been one of the reasons mom and Dad eventually got divorced. Who knows what those poor men when through.

Dad never talked about the war much, but kept a locked chest of momentums in his cellar. Never got to see what was in there, but I’ll bet it told a great story.
 
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