The banner of the ancestors

Author: James Bradley, Ron Powers
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-09-01
Features: Sometimes we find heroes in the most unexpected places. For example, the author James Bradley discovered his heroism in his own home. He is the son of John Bradley, the flag raiser on Iwo Jima, who stands in the center of the most reproduced photograph in history. As a naval medic, he bravely rescued wounded Marines under enemy fire and dragged them to safety. For his heroic actions, he was awarded the Navy Cross and the Congressional Medal of Honor. However, John Bradley never spoke of these glorious experiences to his family and friends. After his father's death, James found three old boxes that his father had preserved about Iwo Jima, and he began to explore his father's past and the past of the other five flag raisers. The result of this exploration was the publication of Flags of Our Fathers, which ranked on the New York Times Best Seller list. The book reveals the lives of all the Iwo Jima flag raisers and portrays how ordinary Americans, during times of national crisis, displayed extraordinary courage and achieved incredible success. The book has now been adapted into a film directed by the renowned Clint Eastwood and produced by Steven Spielberg. It tells the story of the Battle of Iwo Jima during World War II. The Battle of Iwo Jima in the Pacific Theater in 1945 was a brutal battle (President George H.W. Bush also participated in that battle). In just one month, 22,000 Japanese and 26,000 Americans were killed. After fierce fighting, the Americans finally won, and six American soldiers raised the American flag on the highest point of Iwo Jima. This scene has now been immortalized as a sculpture and permanently erected in Washington Square. James Bradley's writings are like an encyclopedia of World War II in America; the book is not only inspiring and well-informed but also highly educational. Throughout human history, isn't it woven together by countless heroes in various ways? James Bradley unearthed these American heroes of that time and presented them to the public, and from any perspective, people can find enlightenment in them. Now, my mother is staggering on the thick sand, Steve supporting her arm to help her walk steadily. Mark faces the sea, lost in thought, as waves crash against his feet. Joe and I found the ruins of a bunker, which loomed over the beach like a predator. We walked toward it. Back then, the Japanese built over 750 bunkers and permanent firing points on this island: reinforced concrete structures that could withstand heavy artillery bombardments. Now and then, you can see the broken ruins, their white color like the bones of animals. They have been destroyed for half a century. These bunkers still stand, but the Japanese soldiers who once defended this island and hid in these bunkers have all been eliminated. Although the Japanese soldiers guarding the island knew they were destined to lose, they still fought desperately. Their mission was to kill as many "invaders" as possible before their own deaths. Joe and I crawled into an arched concrete bunker. We saw machine guns still sticking out of the firing ports, their barrels bent—probably due to overheating when firing at American soldiers. We squeezed inside. The bunker was divided into two rooms, with only a sliver of light filtering in through the narrow firing ports, leaving the inside pitch black: the outer room was used for shooting, and the inner room stored supplies, where people could also hide from bombings. Joe and I crouched in this stuffy bunker, and I began to imagine the scene from the perspective of the Japanese soldiers who once occupied it: hiding in this bunker, they could unleash their firepower to create terror, but they must have felt fear themselves; they were cornered killers who knew they would die there too—some young American Marines, undaunted by enemy machine gun fire, used a flamethrower to shoot flames at the bunker's firing ports. Back then, what must it have been like for the Japanese soldiers hiding in this bunker to see the American warships densely approaching the coast? How many more days or hours could they survive? Could they complete the mission given by their superiors to kill ten enemies before being killed by the Americans? Back then, what must it have been like for an American soldier to charge forward under enemy fire? I thought about how, in my twenties, I constantly interacted with the Japanese. At that time, I was studying at university in Tokyo, and I did nothing but read books and eat sushi. But on the bloody battlefield of Iwo Jima, American soldiers had no other choice: either kill the enemy or be killed. We started climbing the mountain. P9-10