Remembering the Marines of Iwo Jima

Bruce sent this piece to me, and it is so important I would like to share it with all. Thank you, Bruce!

Remembering the Marines of Iwo Jima
Between February 19 and March 16, 1945, a battle raged on the Pacific island of Iwo Jima which claimed the lives of nearly 7,000 American Marines and left yet another 19,000 wounded. The anniversary this year is again in danger of passing largely unnoticed.

Occasionally, the History Channel will run a program on World War II, and you will see the brave young men with nervous, smiling faces preparing to assault some Japanese-held island. Then you hear the stories, often difficult to understand, of what happened next. Those same brave faces, suddenly shattered, their worst fears come true, locked forever in the memories of friends and fellow Marines who survived that living hell. Mental images so horrific, which after 62 years they still evoke tears among the “victors.” Memories so vivid that if you traveled there from this age of “Hey, look at me!” self-promoters, you would probably scream until your last breath, so no one should ever forget.It may be one of history’s supreme ironies those who benefited from such sacrifice, do not remember those who sacrificed so much. How can the talented but pathetic rock singer Kurt Cobain commit suicide and be revered by millions only 50 some odd years after thousands of inconceivably brave Marines, who stood between the aggressive Empire of Japan and us and died nobly, have been all but forgotten? Maybe next time pop singer Alanis Morisette, with all her teen-age angst, looks for an irony to sing about, she will start with this.

I suppose in the year of our Lord 2008, it is difficult to comprehend in 1945; some courageous, frightened 19-year old Marine stepped from his landing craft into Japanese machine gun fire and then slowly bled to death on the black sand of a beach you will never visit. Regardless of your race, creed or gender - or whether you are today a 55 year-old executive in an important board meeting, a 35-year old accountant waiting in traffic, a 26-year old sitcom cast member contemplating the day’s lines, or a 16-year old student on the way to a concert - he did this for you. He is a common thread which connects us all, and that is his lasting contribution, if we let it be.

We must live in our own time, just as the Marines of 1945 lived in theirs, but being aware of those who have gone before and the sacrifices they made connect us to them and sharpens the awareness of the responsibilities we have for each other. Those who are strongly connected with their history feel a sense of place that makes them less likely to throw away their future.

From my own experience, I am always more likely to write my congressional representatives or to speak up for what I believe in, to do something to help make this hard earned democracy work. No one is asking me to do anything, but I know some history and I must do something. I will make the time to be informed, dismiss common cynicism and assume the responsibility, which has been handed to me. We should give thanks this democracy no longer depends upon our ability to use a bayonet. It only asks us to be involved. Many do not feel hope; they feel alone.

If you are hopeless and alone, and if you cannot relate to your religion to help you understand your intrinsic value, then try this contemporary example: Sixty-three years ago, 7000 Marines gave their lives for you at a place called Iwo Jima. If you do not believe me, ask the families and friends who have grieved and missed them. In this age, when self-absorbed stars are paid millions and placed on pedestals, and vapid supermodels are idolized yet contribute nothing, it is almost incomprehensible that in this country we once had young men who, for almost no monetary consideration, laid their youths, their innocence and their very lives on the line.

From now until March 16, please remember them and, in doing so, remember the faith those young Marines had in us, the future, manifested by their sacrifice of everything they had or ever would have.