BIZARRE CONVERSATION ON THE HOUSE FLOOR...

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The Bizarre
Conversation of
Representatives
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Robert K. Dornan (R - CA)
and
James M. Talent (R - MO)
Winner of a SpinnWebe
Twisted Award

Note from Warren:

The Following is the unchanged transcript of the 2-23-95 discussion on the floor of the House of Representatives, as reported in the Congressional Record. It took Representative Dornan until about Midnight to say everything you see here. The general theme of the discussion was the necessity of changing the Constitution of the United States in order to allow laws against flag desecration, especially in light of the anniversary of the raising of the flag on Iwo Jima.

It is a very large and unwieldy document, so I have included links to the most interesting sections. These sections have also been highlighted in Bold Text for your viewing ease.
Not one word has been changed

An Index to the most "interesting" parts of this document:

* Rep. Dornan's plane goes down over the Pacific
* Relative heights of New York's landmark buildings
* Shark Attacks
* Davy Crockett dies at the Alamo
* Meet Rep. Dornan's uncle: the Tinman from the Wizard of Oz
* The Official Marine Corp Coffee Mug in Rep. Dornan's Bronco
* Rep. Talent asks: The Tinman?
* 1939 - a great year for American Cinema
* Japanese attack Santa Barbara
* Rep Dornan finds out he's not actually related to show-biz celeb Fred Allen
* But he was raised with the children of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby
* John Wayne's best-known movie role?
* C-SPAN's Arbitron ratings during tort reform debates
* Not just a coffee mug - he also has a calendar and poster
* Anyone here know where Jerry Horrick is?
* John Wayne learned his style from Pvt. W. Watson
* Volcanic formations on Mt. Suribachi
* One more shameless pitch for increased C-SPAN ratings
* Purple Heart trivia - did you know...?
* Finally! The point! We should have laws against burning flags in front of wheelchair-bound Veterans
* Rep. Dornan plans to get larger flags in front of both of his houses
* Midnight- time to submit newspaper articles to the Congressional Record
* Killing Robots of the Future - Less Marine deaths?

Feb-23-95 (HOUSE) TIME: 2310

Note: This document is the unofficial version of the Congressional Record. The printed Congressional Record produced by the Government Printing Office is the only official version.

PART CONGRESSIONAL RECORD (HOUSE)
DATE February 23, 1995
PAGE PAGE H2168

TITLE
TIME: 2310 MORE ON IWO JIMA

TEXT The SPEAKER pro tempore (Mr. Largent). Under the Speaker`s announced policy of January 4, 1995, the gentleman from California (Mr. Dornan) is recognized for 50 minutes.

Mr. DORNAN. Mr. Speaker, it is awfully difficult to capture in a few minutes the essence of the history of the United States through its United States Marine Corps on such a day as this 23d of February 1995. I consider this day a second birthday for me. Before my colleagues leave the floor, I will show them why. PAGE H2168 I will address it directly to you, Mr. Speaker, because I believe you are a role model for young people around this country as are the four gentlemen that spoke a little while ago, African Americans, all proud citizens, South Carolina, Mississippi, Louisiana and Alabama, discussing things from their hearts as they see it. And my second term colleague, the gentleman from Ohio (Mr. Hoke) and the two other freshman Members, the gentleman from Tennessee (Mr. Bryant) and the gentleman from Nebraska (Mr. Christensen), who spoke, also role models.

But the reason today is special for me and why I began on the 15th anniversary of Iwo Jima to begin to research it is on February 23, 1960, I was ferrying, as a National Guard pilot, my 6 years of active duty were behind me, an Air Force F-86 Sabrejet to be retired to the boneyard in Davis-Mothon in Arizona. So I had no water survival equipment. The plane flamed out over the San Fernando Valley. I took it out over the water to try and air-start, got it started and it flamed out again. And then I wanted to punch off these long-range refueling tanks that were to get me to Arizona.

When I punched them off, only one came off so I had a 200-gallon tank at 6 1/2 pounds each gallon. That was a 1300-pound anvil under one wing. I tried to get in Point Magu. And in those days, you were supposed to punch off your canopy. Now you keep it on for a helicopter to foam you in case of fire. I punched off the canopy. I had not flown in 73 days. The plane had not flown in 5 months. It was the hangar queen, last one off the field. PAGE H2168 I was available, because I was what was called a `Guard bum` going from job to job, dreaming about going to Congress, dreaming about doing lots of things in life and doing lots of different jobs with 4 kids and hopefully more to come.

And I saw that field. And as the dirt and dust came up off the floor of the aircraft when the canopy went off and a pop stickle went flying by. Both my eyes were closed from grit. I got one open and I could see the headline: `Pilot on Last Flight Dies with Last Jet out of San Francisco-Van Nuys.` So I turned out toward the water. I was going to punch out along the beach. I decided the plane would jerk from the ejection and of course go inland and hit an orphanage and kill children and nuns. So I turned it out to sea. I intended still to come down in the surf, and I landed 6 miles out in the ocean. No Mae West, no raft, no survival equipment, and began to instantly drown.

I did not get this helmet off. I had scratches on my face trying to unsnap a simple snap that comes off that easily tonight. But I could not get the helmet off. Got my gloves, jacket off. That was it. Could not get my boots off and began to roll under the water every time I tried to get my knotted laces off. And I had called on Guard emergency channel communication with no Navy or Air Force at Oxnard Air Force Base. And the helicopter was scrambled that had been assigned to duty that very morning for the first time in history, 1 hour before my ejection. It is still there today, 35 years later on the 23rd of February. And the helicopter came out, coldest day of the year, wind, high waves, whitecaps everywhere. And he saw this 2-inch white stripe on this red helmet, a whitecap that would not go away. And he told the one enlisted man in the back, keep your eye on it. Circling down, this little 2-man helicopter, and this ensign saw the whitecap disappear. That was me drowning.

PAGE H2168 I slipped below the water. And all of my colleagues here tonight are Christian gentleman and they will understand that I am not being corny. This is true.
I said goodbye to my wife and four kids. I prepared to meet God. I was so nervous and embarrassed that I was flippant, because I literally said in my mind, Jesus, here I come, ready or not, and slipped beneath the water. I remembered a story I had read on drowning on someone that had been plunked out of the bottom of a pool. I said, the water is warmer than I am. I am taking in gulps. It is painless, and I thought about my wife hanging up the laundry. Again, corny but true, that is just what she was doing because that is what she did that time in the morning in the backyard. I pictured her being alone with four kids, and I said, I cannot give up. I have to try one more time.
It seemed hopeless, but I kicked to the surface and I came up. Here was this Navy helicopter, and he dropped a harness. PAGE H2168 I was begging the guy, yelling, I could taste blood from scratching my throat to jump in. I put my arm in the harness, and he jerked me about 10 feet up in the air, and I fell back under the water down, 5, 6, 8 feet. I figured I was gone again.

I came up and I said, well, this is ridiculous. I grabbed the harness, pushed it away from me and told him to level off, waited a few moments. And then I put my two arms into it and he, never having rescued anybody, immediately took off for the base and went up to 1,500 feet, traffic pattern altitude. Of course, that is the World Trade Tower, the Empire State Building is only 1250. And I cannot even feel my muscles. I am in early hyperthermia holding it just against me like this.
I did not want to go under the water and come up and hang on the harness. PAGE H2168 Slowly he brings me up inside. And when this enlisted man grabbed my arm, I begged him not to touch me until he closed this little trap door in the belly of the helicopter. When we got back to the base, he said, corny but true, that I was being circled by two or three huge sharks. They had lost four men to sharks in a Navy boat the week before.
That is one of the reasons they put the helicopter on rescue duty. `I didn`t think we would beat the sharks to you.`
February 23 became my birthday. It was the 15th anniversary of Iwo Jima, and I went to the history book to see what happened on that day. It is interesting how God lets history be attracted to some days.

PAGE H2168 And this is the day the siege began at the Alamo. I like that. It was the day that Zachary Taylor, to be President someday, although very briefly, died in office at the beginning of his second year, defeated General Santa Ana at the battle of Buena Vista in Mexico. That was 11 years after Santa Ana had tortured and killed every survivor at the Alamo, including men who served in this Chamber like Davy Crockett.

And then I saw that it was the day that President-elect Lincoln snuck into town because he had secretly avoided an assassination plot that had been foiled in Baltimore by Pinkerton Guards. He was getting ready to be sworn in. It was March 5 in those days, right up till Roosevelt`s third term.

Then I saw that it was the date that the Japanese shelled the oil refineries in Santa Barbara, 1942, three years before Iwo Jima. And how my mother had panicked in Manhattan and called her sister and my uncle, the Tinman on the Wizard of Oz, because all L.A. was H 2169 under a big alert from the Japanese attacking us. How things changed in two years.

PAGE H2168 And then I saw Iwo Jima. And it jumped at me, and I began to research this battle and the death toll for the United States Marine Corps, their worst battle ever.
The Marine Corps had a little reception down in the bottom of the Rayburn Building. They give us these little cups. It will be in my Bronco for a long time with that `Semper Fi` staring at me.
The Marine Corps is one of our beloved, the smallest of our services, but a beloved service because they have had some of our toughest conflicts.
PAGE H2168 What is not known is that next month in Okinawa, where more Marines died but basically in an Army battle, we lost more men than we lost in Iwo Jima.
Mr. Speaker, I yield to the gentleman from St. Louis, MO (Mr. Talent).

PAGE H2169 Mr. TALENT. Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentleman. I have always been fascinated by the story, and really, the hair on the back of my neck went up when you told that story. I am certainly very glad, and I think the country has been very well-served, that a sovereign who has always guided this Nation`s fortunes chose to pull you out of that water at that point. PAGE H2169 The gentleman said something. I have been listening to the whole story. I just had to ask the gentleman, did you say that your uncle was the Tinman on the Wizard of Oz?

Mr. DORNAN. Born and bred in Roxsbury, Massachusetts, Boston Democrat, who in the 1940`s, with George Murphy and Ronald Reagan, changed his loyalty to the Republican Party and died in 1979 in St. John`s Hospital, same floor as John Wayne, who died 4 days later. They were good Republicans, you bet.

TIME: 2320 PAGE H2169 Mr. TALENT. I thank the gentleman, for that is one of my favorite movies from certainly my favorite year of motion pictures.
Mr. DORNAN. It was the best year.
Mr. TALENT. It really was. I do not mean to interrupt the gentleman`s story, but I really had to ask. I thank the gentleman for yielding.

PAGE H2169 Mr. DORNAN. He told me a story about how the Japanese this night 53 years ago shelled those oil refineries in Santa Barbara, how they hid under the dining room table in their house on Roxbury Drive in Beverly Hills and how it really was a massive alert and a lot of people were hurt, I think a couple killed, by falling anti-aircraft fire because there were no Japanese planes over Los Angeles.
Mr. TALENT. I was not aware that the Japanese had ever shelled the mainland.
Mr. DORNAN. They had. They had struck our mainland on this very day 53 years ago. And Jack Haley like his friend Fred Allen who I used to call `Uncle` until I found out later there was no blood, but all of that show business community then all started to go overseas. My uncle went to Italy and North Africa. Wayne`s case, the `Sands of Iwo Jima,` as Sergeant Striker. That is probably his best known role.
Yes, it is fun to have an uncle who has become a legend.
Mr. TALENT. I thank the gentleman for yielding.

PAGE H2169 Mr. DORNAN. The Marine Corps picture at Iwo Jima has also become a legend. It is an icon for the Corps.
I am going to see in just a few brief short minutes for those people, Mr. Speaker, who are channel surfing tonight, sometimes we say 1,300,000 watching, but after an excellent discussion on tort reform and it was fascinating, but you have to pay attention, because we are changing history here these first 50 some days of 100, and before that, a discussion that had its points on affirmative action and level playing field, but good men of conscience and women of different conscience coming to different solutions.
This is something that I do because President Reagan ordered me to do it, personally, on several occasions, once when I was in a room with him, alone with Nancy and Ronald Reagan when he was declared the winner in the New Hampshire primary. I was the only one there with the Reagans. I thought, what a moment of history, flashing, I think it was ABC, Ronald Reagan the winner. He had beaten a terrific World War II hero, boby mangled 50 years ago on April 14 of this year, Bob Dole, and it was in that race he had beaten, really George Bush was the finalist going into New Hampshire, he had beaten Ronald Reagan big time in Ohio with the help of a state coordinator friend of mine Floyd Brown.

PAGE H2169 I looked at President Reagan, he said, I can`t believe this, it`s like a dream, that I`m going to maybe go on to win and be part of American history. In Reagan`s good-bye speech on January 11, and I meant to have that here and put it in the Record, his verbatim words, he said words to the effect in his good-bye 9 days before George Bush was inaugurated, our 40th President said, in sort of putting down his text, although it was the way he was using the teleprompters, he said, I want to talk to the children of America. I want you to study the history of this country. And he mentioned D-Day. I believe, I am not sure, he mentioned Iwo Jima. He mentioned a World War I battle. He mentioned battles in our revolutionary period.

I just visited Lexington Green on the 19th of this month, a few days ago, a stirring place. I was shocked to see that an African-American, Crispus Attucks, who died on Lexington Green, the 9th, killed in action, this man is not on the memorial with the other great names, John Brown and Robert Monroe. I remember Reagan saying in his good-buy speech, `Young people, if your parents at the kitchen table don`t teach you about those who have gone before you and gave their blood to build this great country of ours, I give you permission to get angry at your parents.` And by extension I am sure he meant the teachers. We are not teaching the history of this Nation.

And how many college campuses today? This is a school day, spring semester. How many high school campuses in America? How many grade schools? This happened when I was in the seventh grade, and we were hungry to get the news reports to learn about young men just a few years older then us dying, and not just men. At this reception tonight where I got this cup and this beautiful calendar, two-sided poster, Paul McHale, a Desert Storm marine veteran, one of our colleagues, had brought in the best film, black and white and color I had ever seen, on Iwo Jima, and here were nurses on the bloody beaches, Yellow Beach, Red Beach, Green Beach, on the beaches holding these dying men in their arms. They had been flown in from Guam on C-47 `Cooney Birds` and were flying these terribly wounded men on a long plane flight back to Guam for hours. Many of the men died on planes or died in the hospitals in Guam, and here is this nurse on film saying that she never felt an affection for these young men, like they were her children, or young brothers, until she had children of her own. I found out tonight we lost 93 doctors. Doctors. That is how many doctors. Imagine how many we must have had mixed among the men to have 23 killed. We lost over 100, I think 127 paramedics. I did not learn that until this evening, at this Marine reception in the Rayburn Building. In every category, the death toll was tremendous. It said that most of the people died a violent death.
PAGE H2169 I asked my West Pointer, Bill Fallon, who is my legislative assistant for defense affairs, I said, Bill, for obvious reasons, get me someone from Arkansas who won the Medal of Honor on that sulfuric, death-smelling, cordite-smelling hell on earth, and he picks one out from Arkansas, representative of all the other 27, 14 of the 27 Medal of Honor winners died. One of them was H 2170 sitting up in that gallery who was only 17 years and 6 days when he threw himself on a grenade and pulled another one under him on February 20, day 2. The flag went on up day 5 of a 36-day battle and all the records that I am reading say they expected it to be a cakewalk and over in 4 days. But not General `Howlin` Smith. He said this is going to be the worst battle in Marine Corps history, and he was right. `Howlin` Smith.

Here is Wilson D. Watson, Wilson Douglas Watson. Private. Just a private. But 24 years old. And these men looked like they were 30 at 24, in every theater of the world, because they were men in those days at 18 and 19.
Here I recall Clinton on Ted Koppel on Lincoln`s birthday 1992 telling Koppel, I was only a boy of 23 when I was in London trying to avoid serving. A boy at 23? How come Lucas up there was a man 6 days past his 17th birthday?

PAGE H2169 But here is what Wilson Watson did. Joined in Arkansas, born 18 February 1921. Actually he was born, I see here, in Tuscumbia, Alabama. For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty as an automatic rifleman, serving with the Second Battalion, 9th Marines, and this stunned me when I read this sitting here because I went out in the field for 3 days with the Marine Corps in Vietnam, May 20 through 23, 1966, with the Second Battalion of the 9th Marines, Echo Company, I recall.
It does not say his company here. And the young commander that allowed me to go in on a Sparrow Hawk designed by a colleague of ours who I served with here for 8 years. He is watching. I called him in Virginia and told him to watch, Ben Blaz, one of the most distinguished people I have ever served with in this Chamber. Brigadier General Benjamin Blaz was the commander of the 9th Marines and we did not discover that until we were sitting back here about 3 rows talking one day and I told him about my days of combat with the Marines as a volunteer reporter from a small Santa Monica newspaper, and he said, Bob, in that distinguished way of his, I was the commander of the 9th Marines. This young Medal of Honor winner was with the 9th Marines in a different time.

By the way, Mr. Speaker, sometimes the reach of this House is amazing. The young captain who took me out with his unit and let me on that H-34 Sparrow Hawk helicopter to go into a village that was surrounded, designed, I repeat, by Ben Blaz, his name was something like Jerry Horrick, Horricks, he lost his legs. Two months later, by chance, I saw it in the Saturday Evening Post, and I asked him, because I saw his wings, or we got to talking about his flying, what was an F-8 Crusader pilot doing as a ground Marine company commander?

PAGE H2169
And he said, `I want to be Commandant someday and I want to go all the way in my career.` He said, `Flying is important, giving air cover to these kids is important, but I figured if you`re going to make it to the top, you better be a ground Marine and see what the gunfire`s like at the grass level.`

PAGE H2170
TIME: 2330 There he was, and 2 months later he lost his legs. I believe he was from Glendale. If anybody, Mr. Speaker, knows Jerry Horrick, something like that, please write me. I would love to see how he is doing.

PAGE H2170 Anyway, young Wilson Watson, second battalion 9th Marines, 3d Marine Division, the same division in Vietnam, during action against the enemy forces on Iwo Jima. By the way, all of those islands are volcanic islands. For action over 2 days, the 26th and 27th of February 1945.
With his squad abruptly halted by intense fire from enemy fortifications in the high rocky ridges and crags commanding the line of advance, Pvt. Watson boldly rushed 1 pillbox and fired into the embrasure with his weapon, keeping the enemy pinned down singlehandedly until he was in a position to hurl in a grenade, and then running to the rear of the emplacement to destroy the retreating Japanese and enable his platoon to take its objective. Again pinned down at the foot of a small hill, he dauntlessly scaled the jagged incline under fierce mortar and machinegun barrages and, with his assistant BAR man, charged the crest of the hill, firing from his hip.
This is where John Wayne learned his style. PAGE H2170 Fighting ferociously against Japanese troops attacking with grenades and knee mortars from the reverse slope, he stood fearlessly erect in his exposed position to cover the hostile entrenchments and held the hill under savage fire for 15 minutes, killing 60 Japanese before his ammunition was exhausted and his platoon was able to join him. His courageous initiative and valiant fighting spirit against devastating odds were directly responsible for the continued advance of his platoon, and his inspiring leadership throughout this bitterly fought action reflects the highest credit upon Pvt. Watson and the U.S. Naval Service.

I do not know who wrote this, Mr. Speaker, but I believe it should say the U.S. Navy and the U.S. Marine Corps. Naval services does not sound impactful enough at the end.
Wilson Watson lived. I do not know if he is still alive 50 years later. Someone will probably write and tell me. PAGE H2170 This seems so far way, 50 years, and yet it is not, Mr. Speaker. Last year I met Joe Rosenthal, the only survivor of the scene that day who took that picture. He was in the Rayburn Building in room 2117, the anteroom of the Armed Services room, and I called the photographer over and any Member lucky enough to be passing through the anteroom at that moment got a picture with Joe Rosenthal against a big, beautiful oil painting that is the prominent feature, along with the capstand taken up from the harbor of Havana that literally came off of the U.S.S. Maine that was sunk in that harbor in 1898, those are the two main objects of yes, military art, and posed with Joe. He is healthy, and all of the other six men at that second flag-raising, because there was a smaller flag raised first. What a touch in history to hold Joe`s hand in front of that magnificent picture. As some of my colleagues on the other side of the aisle when Sonny Montgomery began a series of very touching 5-minute speeches pointed out, if you want to go to your library, this book, `Iwo Jima: Legacy of Valor,` by Bill Ross, who I learned tonight passed on, which was published in 1983, and this is a dog-eared copy from one of our majors in the liaison office. This book I hope he will let me use when I fly to Iwo Jima at the end of next month for the commemorative of this 6-day battle. I flew around this island in an old seaplane flying to Vietnam, I have looked at it from the air at high altitude, and I do not believe we should have ever given it back to the Japanese. It is not used for anything now. It is 8-1/2 square miles of junk real estate is the way one hero described it.
I would like to read, Mr. Speaker, a letter written by a veteran just a few years ago in 1987 sitting on top of the edge of Mount Suribachi, writing it to a friend. And it is Col. John W. Ripley, one of the young officers in that horrendous battle, and he made his way back, his solo pilgrimage to this bloody site of so much American heroism, and he writes to his friend, Ross McKenzie, I repeat, from the top of Mount Suribachi, 556-foot mountain, the only high ground really on this volcanic rock. This is an actual extinct volcano, and all of the lava from centuries of erupting that poured in a northwesterly direction giving it a big pork chop shape, and as I said, 8 1/2 miles.

Colonel Ripley says:
PAGE H2170 Dear Ross, From this most unlikely spot I am inspired to write you for reasons I can`t fully explain. Certainly you have received no other letters from here I would wager, and you may find this interesting. It`s the middle of the night - cold, windy, uncomfortable & profoundly moving.
He is writing by flashlight. `I`m looking down on a tiny island 3 miles wide and 5 miles long. Down there, and here where I`m writing by flashlight,` a lot of these figures are a little off, so I corrected them, and I hope he does not mind if he is listening, where 5,951 marines died. There were another 870-some Navy men, Air Force men, air crews, 220-some men died on the U.S.S. Bismark Sea which was sunk by a Japanese kamikaze, Coast Guard men bringing the landing craft in earlier, Navy men of all types. Six thousand eight hundred twenty-one is the precise figure of everyone.
The mountain is Suribachi, the island, Iwo Jima. Of the hundreds of thousands of words written about this place, nothing comes close to describing its starkness, its inestimable cost and now, sadly, the poverty of its abandonment.
PAGE H2170
The entire island is a shrine, mostly Japanese, but a few American - only a few. Americans don`t seem to care about such things when, as is the case here, it`s inconvenient. H 2171 And yet this island, its name and most especially this very spot where I sit - where the flag was raised - is immortalized in our national consciousness for as long as there is an America.

`The debris and detritus of war remain even after nearly 43 years. Rusty vehicle hulks, wrecked boats, sunken ships, canteens, mess kits, thousands of rounds of corroded ammunition, blockhouses, pillboxes, trenches, abandoned airfields, large naval shore guns, artillery, etc. And beneath my feet remains of - ` he says 22. It is actually 19,000 dead Japanese. We did take 1,083 POW`s out of a garrison of over 20. He says, `We hated them then. There is more respect now, defenders, brave men who die at their post.

`Rupert Brooke,` an English poet, `said it perfectly; `Here, in some small corner of a forgotten field, will be forever England.` And this brutally stinking sulfuric rock depressing to see, demoralizing as it has lost its once vital importance and our nation`s once great concern, will be forever America. It will be forever in the memory of those 75,000 Marines who fought here.`

PAGE H2170 I learned yesterday from Commandant Mundy, addressing at the beginning of the year, as is the tradition in the Armed Services Committee where he said that of the 27 Marine battalion commanders, and we only have 24 now, Mr. Speaker, 24 in the whole Marine Corps battalions, 27 fought in combat there, and 18 of those battalion commanders fell. Some of them did survive, but were taken off the island badly wounded, and more than a third died.

He said:
PAGE H2171 Of the 75,000 Marines who fought here suffered wounds here and the 5800 who gave their blood and lives to its black soil. Again Rupert Brooke. `In that rich earth, a richer dust concealed. Their hopes, their happiness, their dreams ended here. And if we fail to honor them in our memory and our prayers, we should be damned to hell for such failure.`

TIME: 2340 PAGE H2171
``I brought a small team here, Ross, to survey the island for future exercise use. The Japanese would prefer that we did not exercise here, but that will be over my dead body.` I do not know, Mr. Speaker, who won this debate 7 years ago.
I find it hard to believe and impossible to accept that our Government gave this island back to the Japanese. It is as if we gave them Gettysburg or Arlington National Cemetery. Americans died here in such numbers that in 9 1/2 months the toll here would have equaled, if it had lasted 9 1/2 months, would have equaled the entire 10-11 years of the Vietnam struggle. The Marine Corps should never lose its right to exercise here, and I am proud of having something to do with assuring that it will be so. Yours, I, John, John Ripley, Colonel, U.S. Marine Corps, Retired.
Mr. Speaker, it is amazing how we will pass people on the street and not know what they have done for their country, just a senior gentleman or lady walking by, we say hello or nod. We do not know that they laid their life on the altar of liberty, of freedom, sometimes in foreign countries far away, and went on with their lives with the memories of all the friends of their youth who did not make it.
PAGE H2171 Gene Rider in Navy Times wrote a column a few days ago, well, actually it is dated a few days from now, February 27, so it is the current Navy Times, and I think it sums it up better than anything I have read. I would like to read a few paragraphs from it, Mr. Speaker. This is Gene Ryder. I hope he is listening.
He is a CBS Radio correspondent who lives in San Diego, and if he has a friend listening, call Gene to hear his words going out to Guam where our day begins, Alaska, and the Virgin Islands and all 50 States, thanks to the wonder of C-SPAN.

He writes:
PAGE H2171 Iwo Jima, valor, death, and a raised flag. The high command expected Iwo Jima to be a 4-day piece of cake for the 42,000 Marines of the 4th and 5th Divisions. But Lieutenant General Howland M. `Howling Mad` Smith warned it would be the most grueling battle in the Corps` history. He was the senior Marine officer in the entire Pacific, but he was outranked. In the first 18 hours alone, 2,312 men had fallen.

That is double D-Day, Mr. Speaker. `The 3d Division, brought along as a floating reserve,` that is our division that fought for a decade in Vietnam in the I Corps around Da Nang, `wasn`t expected to be needed. It was committed February 20, day 2,` and the first unit landed on day 3, the 21st. `As planned, 30,000 men landed on day 1. Most massed on the beachhead area.` I do look forward to walking these beaches next month, Mr. Speaker.

`Defense perimeters had not been fully formed, because the tanks lost traction in the volcanic ash. Heavy artillery landing was delayed by heavy surf.` I witnessed that surf in these films this evening, Mr. Speaker, waves coming over giant Amtraks and landing vehicles, and they completely disappeared under as heavy a surf as I have ever seen along the California coast.

PAGE H2171 He said, `The congestion on the beach had grown into a monumental snarl of damaged tanks, landing crafts, smashed equipment. The Japanese are holding their fire. They had their fields of fire perfectly worked out.` One of our Marine colonels told me tonight they had drilled holes in the volcanic rock where they inserted mortar tubes so you could come along and drop a tube, and it was perfectly positioned to pick out certain people on the beach. You could move on after you dropped the mortar shell into its barrel.
He said;
Things started to improve on the beach, false feeling of security. The heavy artillery landed. Twenty-five miles offshore, 60 Japanese kamikaze planes in several waves swooped in to hit the smaller escort carriers. Detected early on, many were shot down. Two slammed into one of our big supercarriers, the Saratoga that had been battling since 1942 all across the Pacific, killing 128 on the Saratoga, wounding another almost 200. Another kamikaze crashed midship on the Bismarck Sea. Bombs went off, and engulfed in great flames, the carrier sank quickly, 812 sailors into the icy water, 218 dying.

PAGE H2171 Iwo Jima, `Sulfur Island,` gateway to Japan, populated by 21,000 subterranean troops, and I saw an eyewitness soldier tonight who said they were not on the island, they were in the island.
There were caves all the way through and tunnels. `The almost invisible smog of smoky drizzle that smelled of cordite and death and sulfur; the Japanese commander, Lt. Tadamichi Kuribayashi, he knew he could not win, but he and his troops were dedicated to death.`

Mr. Speaker, think, as I read these words, of this inane, stupid argument of how we were going to present the B-29 fuselage of the Enola Gay that dropped the first atom bomb on August 6 at though we were in some kind of racist crusade against the Japanese islands. This battle, and the battle 50 years ago next month in Okinawa, just give a tiny feeling of the major death toll that we would have suffered.
PAGE H2171
I learned last week that we are awarding Purple Hearts today in Somalia, Grenada, Panama, Purple Hearts have gone to several men putting their lives on the line in Haiti to restore order to the pathetic little island, and these Purple Hearts were struck in 1945, this year 50 years ago, and we are still drawing from that supply, because these were from a lot ordered in thousands that we thought we would be giving out in the invasion of Japan and the major islands, and the death toll and wounding toll that we would take there. It is one of the amazing pieces of small information about current Purple Hearts and how many are still stored away.

General Kuribayashi, graduated from their military college, their West Point, in 1914, and he knew that his victory would be in showing Marines what lay in store for them when they invaded Japan and in denying them the emergency airfield they needed for crippled B-29 bombers at the halfway point of the Guam-Saipan to Tokyo air express.

At this point, let me add something, Mr. Speaker. There should have been somebody here tonight whose life was saved by these sacrifices, a chairman, a brand-new chairman, after being here over 22 years, Ben Gilman of New York, who was a B-29 crewman, told me that his life was saved after Japanese fighters shot up his B-29 over the mainland of Honshu Island. He could not make it back to his base further south, Saipan, Tinian, or Guam. He recovered on Iwo Jima. He would have gone in the water like so many crewmen from his bomb wing there that died at sea, shark attacks, some of the worst shark-infested waters in the world.

PAGE H2171
Witness what happened to the crew of the Indianapolis that delivered the first H 2172 atom bomb to Tinian. They sunk. They were not accounted for for 3 days, a terrible military `Snafu`, and 500 of the 800 or 900 that died in the water were torn apart by sharks.

Ben Gilman told me he owes his life to taking Iwo Jima, which makes a good point. Did we have to take Iwo Jima? Would the Japanese or Germans, if their roles had been reversed, have taken Iwo Jima? They might not have. They would have told their pilots, `Press on. If you do not make it, that is OK, we have got teenagers to take your place.`

These thousands, these 6,821 marines and sailors and Army Air force men, Coast Guardsmen who died, they gave their lives in a direct trade at about four or five to one for the 27,000 men in the air crews and fighters and mostly B-29`s that made it back to Iwo Jima, coming back shot up from all of those raids in March and April and May and June and July and through August 15, 1945 when the cessation of shooting came about looking forward to the treaty of surrender on the deck of the Missouri on September 2.

PAGE H2171 So Ben Gilman is a living testament of somebody who would not be in this House if it had not been for this sacrifice and the atom bombs would not have brought an end to this horrible death toll on both sides. A million Japanese survived the war to have children and grandchildren that are alive in a dynamic nation and its economy today because we dropped those two bombs.

I am happy to say, under the lead of Joe McDade from Pennsylvania here, and my hero in this House, our Gary Cooper, Sam Johnson of Texas, who I watched take on the head of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum and say, `Would you have dropped the bomb, Doctor?` And he says, `I would have obeyed orders.` He said, `No; would you have dropped the bomb if you were Harry Truman?` `No; I would not.` Sam held up that hand that has seen so much torture in Vietnam, he holds up the hand and looks at him and says, `That is the difference between you and me. I would have dropped the bomb.`

PAGE H2172 TIME: 1150 That is our Texan, Sam Johnson of Dallas. We won that battle. I continue reading from Gene Rider`s Navy Times story.
PAGE H2172 Big guns silent, tanks mired in mud, no spotting airplanes on day four, but it seemed eerily quiet. Perfect day for infantry. Leaning into near gale force gusts and driving sheets of rain, Marines begin probing the steep bouldered slopes of Suribachi, flame throwers, demolition charges, grenades, and men winning the Medal of Honor, destroyed pill boxes and bunkers as our patrols drove upward. There were sporadic nasty skirmishes and casualties. By nightfall it was apparent that only a few of the 2,000 Japanese packed into the caves on that mountain on the southwest corner of the island in all those labyrinths at several levels, they remained alive in there.
The weather on day 5, different. Greatly improved. Lt. Colonel Chandler Johnson, I don`t know if he is still alive, commander of the Second Battalion, 28th Regiment, had seen the totals through day three. 4,574 of his men killed or wounded. In the 5th Division, 2,057 men killed or wounded. A great many were from his own battalion. He decided they needed a topping out party, a flag on top of Suribachi. He called together Lt. Harold Schrier, a route to follow up the steep slopes he said. Take this folded flag, a smaller one, and put this on top of the hill.

See how men will die for a flag? And we debated all night a few years ago in this well, Duncan Hunter led the debate, all night long to pass a simple law that you cannot burn Old Glory in front of veterans like these, some of them in wheelchairs. And we lost that debate. When we are through with our 100 days, maybe, just maybe, we will revisit whether or not you have a right to burn a flag in front of courageous men and those Army nurses and Marine nurses and Navy nurses, excuse me, that went in to help the Marine Corps.

PAGE H2172 So he says put this flag, his simple order, put this on top of the hill. Preceded by a patrol that met no opposition, E Platoon, 40 men plus litter bearers, notice everywhere they went, they have litter bearers or doctors with them. I repeat, 820-some paramedics died with all the Marines fighting. How many times must the word `medic` have pierced the din of artillery and machine gun and flame thrower fire there.

He said with their litter bearers they go up. Slowly they make it up single file the steep slope to the crest. Rifles and grenades ready. Some of the men scour the crater`s debris, and there is a huge crater there. They found a pipe. They lashed the colors to it, and at 10:31 a.m. the Stars and Stripes went up and whipped in the blustery wind.
Sergeant Lou Lowery took pictures for `Leatherneck,` a great magazine 50 years later. And a Japanese suddenly leapt up from a cave, fired, and just barely missed Low Lowery. A Marine gunned him down.
PAGE H2172 Marines handily won a skirmish that developed using rifles and grenades. It wasn`t planned. James Forrestal, the Secretary of the Navy, and what a handsome guy, he turned out to be 2 years later our first Secretary of Defense. I thought looking at the film today, they had pictures of him on the deck of the command ship, the El Dorado, but he was actually on the beach already, on Green Beach, and he is standing beside Gen. Howling Smith, where 23 Marines were killed right in that area within that very hour, and they watched that flag unfurl. It was a very emotional moment. Our Marines that were in our liaison department particularly asked me to point out what James V. Forrestal said. He set that handsome square jaw of his and he said `General Howling,` pointing up to the flag on Suribachi, the earlier smaller flag, `this means a Marine Corps for 500 years.` Howling Mad then choked up.

They soon returned to the El Dorado command ship two miles offshore. CBS asked for recorded interviews. And General Smith ordered Sgt. Ernest Thomas, one of the flag raisers, to come on board for the interview. He was the very senior sergeant. Afterwards Thomas had one of the thrills of his life. A hot bath, his first in days, and a hot meal, and he couldn`t wait yet to get back to his outfit.
A few days later he died on Iwo Jima. He gave up his life. That was his last hot shower, his last hot meal. The banner atop Suribachi was a lift for the Marines in the foxholes down in all the lower part of the island. The sailors on the beach and on the ships, they saw it.

PAGE H2172 This is captured on film, I just saw it a few hours ago, Mr. Speaker, exuberant yells, ships blasting whistles, ships` bells ringing, horns rang out. Lt. Col. Chandler Johnson was jubilant. He had to have that flag as a souvenir for his battalion which had paid such a price for its role in taking the mountain. He sent a runner to scrounge up another flag.
The officer on one of the landing ship tanks at the beach broke out the ship`s ceremonial flag. It was twice as large and delivered to the summit about an hour later. About then, a five foot five bespectacled 33-year-old civilian in Marine dungarees reached the top with a pack full of photographic gear.
He was joined by two Marine combat photographers. They were feeling put out by having missed the flag raising. Of course, that five foot five, 33-year-old, now 83, was none other than Joe Rosenthal, San Francisco Associated Press.

PAGE H2172 He saw the just delivered 4 by 8, a pretty big flag, that is the size I think I will replace my 5 by 7 with in front of my house here in Virginia, and that is what I will use in my house in Garden Grove. I am going to like that size the rest of my life, 4 by 8. He saw them tying the banner`s lanyards around a long pipe about to be positioned for hoisting.

Joe told me he had his back turned at this moment. He and sergeant Bill Genaust scurried 25 feet up. He is just loading, and just then six Marines struggled the unwieldy pipe upward, with that big flag starting to whip out in the stiff breeze. Joe told me he whipped around. Gene Rider has it here that he clicked his speedgraphic loaded with black and white film at the midpoint just at the right millisecond for this incredible, now an icon, historic photograph.

Then Bob Campbell, another Marine photographer, shooting from a different angle, and in these wonderful commemorative books that the Marine Corps published, you see Bob Campbell`s picture capturing the original H 2173 smaller flag being brought down by Marines, still ducking from sniper fire, and the big one going up. What an incredible moment that symbolizes to all the soldiers, sailors, Marines and airmen fighting all around the world. What a tribute to our beautiful Old Glory.

PAGE H2172 The Marines stood under the flag, looked across Iwo Jima, the view from 556 feet was much different from that scene from the foxholes and the caves and the Marines below. Keep in mind, there is 31 days of hellish fighting to continue. Five days of carnage and they owned a third of this 8 1/2 square miles of junk.
Rosenthal came down slowly from the top, made the rounds of the command posts and aid stations, and caught a ride on a press boat back out to the El Dorado. He wrote captions for his day`s pictures and made sure they were in the press pouch for the courier seaplane, probably a Catalina, back to Guam. There they would be developed, checked by censors, radioed stateside by CINCPAC`s high powered transmitters. He wasn`t sure of what he made up there at the top, he didn`t even get to see his work, and a day or so later the Associated Press radioed congratulations. And that turned out to be the defining event of his life.
Casualties mounted as the carnage erupted into a new fury, and as the 4th division on the eastern front, 3d division in the center and 5th division on the west hammered ahead with tanks, flame throwers, mortars, rockets, each day was heartbreak and it went on for 31 more days.
PAGE H2172 I ask permission to put the rest of this in the Record and close with this in the final minute or so, Mr. Speaker. This battle is not over, keeping our country strong. And here is another article after Gene Rider`s in the same Navy Times, if it had to be done all over again, how future Marines would take Iwo Jima in another way. They project their thinking, Chris Lawson, the Times staff writer, to 2010, and the star of this event is none other than the V-22 `Osprey.` On the ground it is the advanced armored amphibious vehicle, AAAU. These two systems are in doubt whether or not we are going to fully develop them for our great Corps. And it shows how this 36-day battle would have been shortened by vertical envelopment and putting our troops behind all of the Japanese forces and how much loss of life could have been prevented in this terrible conflict.

PAGE H2173 TIME: 0000 I would like to submit this for the Record and close again with those words that have been said 10 times at least tonight, that uncommon valor was a common virtue that day, 27 Medals of Honor and the debt that Americans born ever since, were too young to serve, will never, ever be able to repay except by studying this history and passing it onto the young men and women of our country, as Ronald Reagan requested.

PAGE H2173 (FROM THE NAVY TIMES, FEBRUARY 27, 1995) IWO JIMA: VALOR, DEATH AND A RAISED FLAG (BY GENE RIDER) The high command expected Iwo Jima to be a four-day piece of cake for the 42,000 Marines of the 4th and 5th divisions. But Lt. Gen. Holland M. `Howling Mad` Smith warned it would be the most grueling battle in the Corps` history. He was the senior Marine officer in the Pacific, but was outranked.
In the first 18 hours, 2,312 men had fallen. The 3rd division, brought along as floating reserve, wasn`t expected to be needed. It was committed on Feb. 20 and first unit landed on Day Three, Feb. 21.

PAGE H2173 As planned, 30,000 men landed on Day One, most massed in the beachhead area. Defense perimeters had not been fully formed because tanks lost traction in volcanic ash. The heavy artillery landing was delayed by a high surf and beach congestion, which had grown into a monumental snarl, of damaged tanks, landing craft and smashed equipment.
Much of the enemy`s firepower came from caves and labyrinths of Mount Suribachi, the 556-foot-high dead volcano overlooking our beachhead at the island`s southern tip. Much of our bombardment and air strikes were concentrated on Suribachi and by Day Three it had been jolted to its core.
Things were improving on the beach. Heavy artillery landed. But 25 miles offshore, 60 planes in several waves of a kamikaze mission swooped in to attack our escort carriers. Detected early on, many were shot down. Two slammed into the carrier Saratoga, killing 128 and wounding 192. Another crashed amidship on the Bismarck Sea. Engulfed by great flames, the carrier sank quickly and 812 sailors took to the icy waters, 218 dying.

PAGE H2173 Iwo Jima - Sulphur Island - gateway to Japan, populated by 21,000 subterranean troops, was almost invisible in a smog of smoky drizzle that smelled of death, sulphur and cordite. The Japanese commander, Lt. Gen. Tadamichi Kuribayashi, knew he couldn`t win. But he and his troops were dedicated to death. Their victory would be in showing Marines what lay in store when they invaded Japan and in denying them the emergency airfield they needed for crippled B-29 bombers at the halfway point of the Guam-Saipan-to-Tokyo air expressway.
Big guns silent, tanks mired in mud, no spotting planes, dawn on Day Four seemed eerily quiet. It was a perfect day for infantry. Leaning into near-gale-force gusts that drove sheets of rain, Marines began probing the steep, bouldered slopes of Suribachi. Flame throwers, demolition charges and grenades destroyed pill boxes and bunkers as our patrols drove upward. There were sporadic nasty skirmishes and casualties. By nightfall, it was apparent that only a few of the 2,000 Japanese packed into caves and labyrinths at several levels remained.
The weather on Day Five was greatly improved. Lt. Col. Chandler Johnson, commander of the 2d Battalion, 28th Regiment, had seen the totals through Day Three - 4,574 men killed or wounded. Of the 2,057 5th Division men killed or wounded, a great many were from his battalion.

PAGE H2173
A `TOPPING-OUT` PARTY

Johnson thought it was time for a `topping-out` party. After giving Lt. Harold Schrier a route to follow up the steep slopes, he handed him a folded flag and said: `Put this on the top of the hill.`

Preceded by a patrol that met no opposition, E platoon - 40 men plus litter bearers - slowly made its way in single file up the steep slopes to the crest. Rifles and grenades ready, some of the men scouted the crater`s debris and found a pipe, lashed the colors to it and at 10:31 a.m. the Stars and Stripes whipped in the blustery wind.

PAGE H2173 Sgt. Lou Lowrey took pictures for Leatherneck magazine until a Japanese leaped up from a cave, fired and missed Lowery. A Marine gunned down the Japanese. Marines handily won a skirmish with rifles and grenades.
It wasn`t planned. James Forrestal, the secretary of the Navy, who had boarded the command ship Eldorado at Guam with Gen. Smith beside him, stood on Green Beach, where 23 Marines had been killed within the hour, and watched the flag unfurled. It was an emotional moment. Forrestal said, `Holland, this means a Marine Corps for 500 years.` `Howling Mad` choked up. They soon returned to the Eldorado two miles offshore, where SBC recorded interviews for later broadcast. Smith ordered Sgt. Ernest Thomas, one of the flag raisers, to come for an interview. Afterward, Thomas had a bath and a hot meal and couldn`t wait to get back to his outfit. He gave his life a few days later.

PAGE H2173 The banner atop Suribachi was a lift for Marines in foxholes, and sailors on the beach and on ships. Exuberant yells, whistles, ships` bells and horns rang out.
Lt. Col. Johnson was jubilant. He had to have that flag as a souvenir for his battalion, which had paid such a price for its role in taking Suribachi. He sent a runner to scrounge for another flag. An officer on the tank landing ship at the beach broke out the ship`s ceremonial flag. It was twice as large and was delivered to the summit about an hour later.
About then, a 5-foot-5 bespectacled 33-year-old civilian in Marine dungarees reached the top with a full pack of photo gear. He was joined by two Marine combat photographers. They were feeling put out by having missed the flag raising. Joe Rosenthal, Associated Press out of San Francisco, saw the just-delivered 4x8 banner`s lanyards being put around a long pipe about to be positioned for hoisting.

PAGE H2173 He and Sgt. Bill Genault scurried out 25 feet just as six Marines struggled the unwieldy pipe upward with the big flag whipping in the stiff breeze. Joe clicked his Speed Graphic loaded with black and white film at just the right millisecond for an historic picture. Genault shot the same scene in color movies until his film ran out. Pvt. Bob Campbell, the other Marine photographer, was shooting from another location and got a shot of the small flag being lowered with the new flag going up.
Marines stood under the flag and looked across Iwo Jima. The view from 556 feet was much different from that seen from foxholes, caves and ravines below. After five days of carnage, they owned one-third of this 8 1/2 square miles of junk real estate and had yet to reach Day One`s objective.
Rosenthal came down slowly from the top, made the rounds of command posts and aid stations and caught a ride on a press boat to the Eldorado. He wrote captions for his day`s pictures and made sure they were in the press pouch for the courier seaplane to Guam, where they`d be developed, checked by censors and radioed stateside by CincPac`s high-power transmitters. He wasn`t sure of what he`d made at the top. A day or so later the Association Press radioed congratulations.

PAGE H2173
THE ADVANCE

Casualties mounted as the carnage erupted into new fury as the 4th Division on the eastern front, 3rd Division in the center and 5th Division on the west hammered ahead with H 2174 tanks, flame throwers, heavy artillery and offshore mortar and rocket boats. Each yard was heartbreak.
By Day 14, the battle line was at Day Two`s objective. PAGE H2173 That day, crippled over Tokyo, the B-29 Dinah Might, was the first Superfort bomber to land on Iwo Jima while trying to return to Guam. With the short, shell-shocked runway under sporadic fire, the 65-ton bomber flopped down for a wild but safe landing.
A Doberman pinscher war dog led his handler`s patrol to a huge cave on the eastern coast where scores of Japanese had lain dead for days in an overpowering stench. Seven Japanese came out of a catacomb and surrendered.

Day 24, March 14 at 9:30 a.m., as CincPac ordered, there was a short ceremony near the base of Suribachi. Gen. Smith`s personnel officer, Col. David Stafford, read a proclamation issued by Adm. Chester Nimitz from headquarters on Guam that officially claimed victory and proclaimed Iwo Jima a U.S. territory. A bugler sounded colors, our flag was hoisted, and a color guard, Adm. Richmond K. Turner and Gen. Smith joined each division commander - Maj. Gens. Graves B. Erskine, Clifton B. Cates and Keller E. Rockey of the 3rd, 4th and 5th divisions, respectively - in salutes.

PAGE H2173 Dedications of three separate cemeteries followed. Bill Ross, Marine correspondent wrote that as Rockey spoke at the 5th`s cemetery, a bulldozer dug more burial trenches for poncho-shrouded Marines laid out in long lines awaiting burial and that a jeep drove up with several more bodies.
Gen. Erskine spoke at the 3rd`s cemetery. `Victory was never in doubt. Its cost was. What was in doubt was whether there would be any of us left to dedicate our cemetery . . . let the world count our crosses, over and over . . . let us do away with ranks and ratings and designations . . . old timers . . . replacements - here lie only Marines.`
(In the mid-1950s the bodies of all Marines buried on Iwo Jima were exhumed and returned to American soil.) PAGE H2173 Day 35, March 25, remnants of regiments 26, 27 and 28 wearily and warily slogged into Bloody Gorge on the northwest tip of Iwo Jima. There was no resistance: There were no more Japanese.

Official figures are testimony to the valor of Americans who served in the Iwo Jima battle. Total casualties 28,686. Of the 6,821 dead or missing, 5,931 were Marines, 195 were Navy corpsmen attached to Marine units. Of the 27 Medals of Honor awarded to Marines and corpsmen for valor at Iwo, more than half were awarded posthumously.
An estimate of Japanese killed: 20,000. Just 1,083 were taken prisoner - many from the Korean labor battalion. PAGE H2173 On March 14, Adm. Nimitz issued a press release that ended with `Among the Americans who served at Iwo Jima, uncommon valor was a common virtue.`

The same day, Gen. Cates, dedicating his 4th Division`s cemetery, said, `No words of mine can express the homage due these fallen heroes. But I can assure you, and also their loved ones, that we will carry their banner forward.`

PAGE H2174
(FROM THE NAVY TIMES, FEBRUARY 27, 1995)
IF IT HAD TO BE DONE ALL OVER AGAIN - FUTURE MARINES WOULD TAKE IWO
IN ANOTHER WAY
(BY CHRIS LAWSON)
Washington. - If the Marines were tasked with taking Iwo Jima island tomorrow, chances are the assault would look pretty much the same as 50 years ago. It would be a massive amphibious landing.
PAGE H2174 But in 2010, if all goes as planned, the Corps will have the tools in hand to tackle the mission in an entirely new way. From the V-22 Osprey troop carrier to the high-speed advanced amphibious assault vehicle the Corps will be generations ahead of the technology available both in 1945 and today. Indeed, its arsenal might even include robot-controlled vehicles.

While today`s Marines are highly skilled at fighting in the desert and other open terrain with fast-moving tanks and light armored vehicles - as well as fixed- and rotary-wing aircraft not available in 1945 - experts say modern Marines would face many of the same difficulties the 75,000 others did when they came ashore Feb. 19, 1945, and faced down a well-dug-in enemy force of 20,000 Japanese defenders.

TOUGH ROW TO HOE PAGE H2174 Some examples:
The current amphibious tractor travels only 5 mph, a mere 2 mph advantage over World War II models.
Helicopters would be rendered ineffective because nearly every square inch of the small island would be covered with defensive fire.
PAGE H2174 Troop mobility would not be significantly improved, since most of today`s radios and other equipment are the same size and weight as they were in Vietnam.
Fancy technology, like global positioning systems, would not have much value on an island with a total area of just eight square miles.
But today`s Marines would have one distinct advantage. They would likely fight at night. `We could fight in the dark pretty well, but to take a place like Iwo, we`d do it pretty much the same way,` said Col. Gary Anderson, the director of the Corps` Experimental Unit, a futuristic warfighting think tank at Quantico, Va.

PAGE H2174 `It would probably still take individual Marines to root the enemy out. I don`t think that today we have got the capability to force them up out of their (fighting) holes.`

A DIFFERENT FUTURE
But in 2010, if the Marines get the weapons platforms they`re currently vying for and take advantage of burgeoning commercial technologies, bloody Iwo might not be so bloody.

PAGE H2174 The best part: America might not even have to take such an island - just simply go around it. But if they did need to seize Iwo, future Marines would have several distinct advantages. For starters, the attack could come from over-the-horizon at breakneck speeds and top maneuverability. The V-22 Osprey people mover could help ferry Marines inland to high ground and Iwo airstrips, instead of simply dropping them at the soggy, ash-sand beaches and forcing Marines to slog their way ashore.

PAGE H2174 The AAAV could maneuver around any mines in the off-shore waters, and roar from ship to shore at speeds of more than 30 mph, thereby reducing their vulnerability to enemy fire.
Thank again to the legs and speed of the V-22, the logistics trains would likely be based at sea - not on the beach, where in World War II it fell victim to a continuous bombardment by enemy forces.
The Marines would also have the capability to land infestation teams on the critical high ground and take that advantage away from the enemy. Marines would likely land atop Mount Suribachi and fight their way down to the bottom, instead of working their way up under deadly attack.
PAGE H2174
ROBOTS TOO
Anderson said robotic technology could have a dramatic effect as well, and possible save the lives of thousands of Marines. Remote-controlled AAAVs, for example, could roar ashore and act as a magnet for enemy fire. Sophisticated sensing systems could then acquire the targets.

`You shoot at us, you die,` Anderson said. `Every time they fire, they would become a target.`
PAGE H2174 The best part: advanced Marine weaponry will likely allow shooters to engage their targets from the line of sight.
`If you can get eyes on target, you can kill them,` Anderson said. `You wouldn`t do away totally with rifle-to-rifle and hand-to-hand combat, but you`d cut it way down. In 1945, 85 percent of the fighting was done that way. We think we could get that down to 20 percent.`

SOFTENING THE TARGET
PAGE H2174 The Marines, Navy and Air Force would also pound the daylights out of the islands with bomb after sophisticated bomb in an effort to prep the battlefield for maximum effectiveness.

Here again, robots could play a vital role. But just how vital will be determined as much by culture as technology.
`Would you see a robot platoon raise the flag on Mount Suribachi? I don`t think so,` Anderson said with a laugh. `But one of the raisers might be a robot.`

PAGE H2174

OUTLINE 1. TIME: 2310 H2168

MORE ON IWO JIMA H2168

2. TIME: 2320 H2169

3. TIME: 2330 H2170

4. TIME: 2340 H2171

5. TIME: 1150 H2172

6. TIME: 0000 H2173

7. (FROM THE NAVY TIMES, FEBRUARY 27, 1995) H2173

IWO JIMA: VALOR, DEATH AND A RAISED FLAG H2173

(BY GENE RIDER) H2173

8. A `TOPPING-OUT` PARTY H2173

9. THE ADVANCE H2173

10. (FROM THE NAVY TIMES, FEBRUARY 27, 1995) H2174

IF IT HAD TO BE DONE ALL OVER AGAIN - FUTURE
MARINES WOULD TAKE IWO IN ANOTHER WAY H2174
(BY CHRIS LAWSON) H2174

11. TOUGH ROW TO HOE H2174

12. A DIFFERENT FUTURE H2174

13. ROBOTS TOO H2174

14. SOFTENING THE TARGET H2174


.
Warren S. Apel warren@esquilax.com

ANGER TOWARD OWN OFFICERS OBVIOUS

"I Just Pulled The Trigger"
Jun 21, 2003
By Bob Graham, Evening Standard, in Baghdad

At first glance they appear to be the archetypal Band Of Brothers of Hollywood myth, brave and honest men united in common purpose.

But a closer look at these American GIs, sweltering in the heat of an unwelcoming Iraq, reveals the glazed eyes and limp expressions of those who have witnessed a war they do not understand and have begun to resent. By their own admission these American soldiers have killed civilians without hesitation, shot wounded fighters and left others to die in agony.

What they told me, in a series of extraordinary interviews, will make uncomfortable reading for US and British politicians and senior military staff desperate to prevent the liberation of Iraq turning into a quagmire of Vietnam proportions, where the behaviour of troops feeds the hatred of an occupied people.

Sergeant First Class John Meadows revealed the mindset that has led to hundreds of innocent Iraqi civilians being killed alongside fighters deliberately dressed in civilian clothes. "You can't distinguish between who's trying to kill you and who's not," he said. "Like, the only way to get through s*** like that was to concentrate on getting through it by killing as many people as you can, people you know are trying to kill you. Killing them first and getting home."

These GIs, from Bravo Company of the 3/15th US Infantry Division, are caught in an impossible situation. More than 40 of their number have been killed by hostile forces since 1 May - when President Bush declared major military operations were over - and the number of hit-and-run attacks is on the increase. They face a resentful civilian population and, hiding among it, a number of guerrilla fighters still loyal to the old regime. A lone Iraqi sniper nicknamed The Hunter is believed to have claimed his sixth American victim this week in a suburb of Baghdad.

The man, said to be a former member of the Republican Guard Special Forces, has developed a cult status among some Iraqis. One Baghdad resident, Assad al Amari, said: "He is fighting for Iraq on his own. There will be many more Americans killed because they cannot stop The Hunter. He will be given the protection of people who will let him use their homes for his shooting."

In this hostile atmosphere the men of Bravo Company are asked to maintain order, yet at the same time win hearts and minds. It is not a dilemma they feel able to resolve. They spoke to me - dressed in uniforms they have worn for the past six weeks - at their base in Fallujah. Here US troops killed 18 demonstrators at a pro-Saddam rally soon after the war and now face local fighters bent on revenge.

Their attitude to these dangers is summed up by Specialist (Corporal) Michael Richardson, 22. "There was no dilemma when it came to shooting people who were not in uniform, I just pulled the trigger. It was up close and personal the whole time, there wasn't a big distance. If they were there, they were enemy, whether in uniform or not. Some were, some weren't."

Specialist Anthony Castillo added: "When there were civilians there we did the mission that had to be done. When they were there, they were at the wrong spot, so they were considered enemy." In one major battle - at the southern end of Baghdad at the intersection of the main highways - the soldiers estimate about 70 per cent of the enemy's 400-or-so fighters were dressed as civilians.

Sgt Meadows explained: "The fight lasted for about eight hours and they just kept on coming all day from everywhere, from all sides. They were all in plain clothes.

"We had dropped fliers a couple of days prior saying to people to get out of the area if they didn't want to fight, so basically anyone who was there was a combatant. If they were dumb enough to stand in front of tanks or drive a car

towards a tank, then they were there to fight. On that day it took away the dilemma of who to fire at, anyone who was there was a combatant."

Cpl Richardson added: "That day nothing went with the training. There were females fighting; there were some that, when they saw you f****** coming, they'd just drop their s*** and try to give up; and some guys were shot and they'd play dead, and when you'd go by they'd reach for their weapons. That day it was just f****** everything. When we face women or injured that try to grab their weapons, we just finish them off. You've gotta, no choice."

Such is their level of hatred they preferred to kill rather than merely injure. Sgt Meadows, 34, said: "The worst thing is to shoot one of them, then go help him." Sergeant Adrian Pedro Quinones, 26, chipped in: "In that situation you're angry, you're raging. They'd just been shooting at my men - they were putting my guys in a casket and eight feet under, that's what they were trying to do.

"And now, they're laying there and I have to help them, I have a responsibility to ensure my men help them." Cpl Richardson said: "S***, I didn't help any of them. I wouldn't help the f******. There were some you let die. And there were some you double-tapped."

He held out his hand as if firing a gun and clucked his tongue twice. He said: "Once you'd reached the objective, and once you'd shot them and you're moving through, anything there, you shoot again. You didn't want any prisoners of war. You hate them so bad while you're fighting, and you're so terrified, you can't really convey the feeling, but you don't want them to live."

These soldiers have faced fighters from other Arab countries. "It wasn't even Iraqis that we was killing, it was Syrians," said Sgt Meadows. "We spoke to some of the people and Saddam made a call for his Arab brothers for a holy war against us, and they said they came here to fight us. Whadda we ever do to them?"

Cpl Richardson intervened: "S***, that didn't really matter who they were. They wanted to fight us so they were the enemy. We had to take over Baghdad, period, it didn't matter who was in there."

The GIs spoke of shooting civilians at roadblocks. Sgt Meadows said: "When they used white flags we were told to stop them at 400 metres out and then strip them down naked then bring them through. Most obeyed the order. We knew about others who had problems with [Iraqis] carrying white flags and then opening up on our guys. We knew about every trick they were trying to do. Then they'd use cars to try and drive at us. They were men, women and children. That day we shot up a lot of cars.

"We'd shoot warning shots at them and they'd keep coming, so we'd kill them. We'd fire a warning shot over the top of them or on the road. When people criticise us killing civilians they don't know that a lot of these civilians were combatants, they really were . And they still are."

The men have been traumatised by their experiences. Cpl Richardson-said: "At night time you think about all the people you killed. It just never gets off your head, none of this stuff does. There's no chance to forget it, we're still here, we've been here so long. Most people leave after combat but we haven't."

Sgt Meadows said men under his command had been seeking help for severe depression: "They've already seen psychiatrists and the chain of command has got letters back saying 'these men need to be taken out of this situation'. But nothing's happened." Cpl Richardson added: "Some soldiers don't even f****** sleep at night. They sit up all f****** night long doing s*** to keep themselves busy - to keep their minds off this f****** stuff. It's the only way they can handle it. It's not so far from being crazy but it's their way of coping. There's one guy trying to build a little pool out the back, pointless stuff but it keeps him busy."

Sgt Meadows said: "For me, it's like snap-shot photos. Like pictures of maggots on tongues, babies with their heads on the ground, men with their heads halfway off and their eyes wide open and mouths wide open. I see it every day, every single day. The smells and the torsos burning, the entire route up to Baghdad, from 20 March to 7 April, nothing but burned bodies."

Specialist Bryan Barnhart, 21, joined in: "I also got the images like snapshots in my head. There are bodies that we saw when we went back to secure a place we'd taken. The bodies were still there and they'd been baking in the sun. Their bodies were bloated three times the size."

Sgt Quinones explained: "There are psychiatrists who are trying to sort out their problems but they say it's because of long combat environment. They know we need to be taken away from that environment." But the group's tour of duty has been extended and the men have been forced to remain as peacekeepers. Cpl Richardson said: "Now we're in this peacekeeping, we're always firing off a warning shot at people that don't wanna listen to you. You make up the rules as you go along.

"Like, in Fallujah we get rocks thrown at us by kids. You wanna turn round and shoot one of the little f*****s but you know you can't do that. Their parents know if they came out and threw rocks we'd shoot them. So that's why they send the kids out." Sgt Meadows said: "Can you imagine being a soldier and being told 'you're fighting a war, then when you finish you can go home'.

"You go and fight that war, and you win decisively, but now you have to stay and stabilise the situation. We are having to go from a full warfighting mindset to a peacekeeping mindset overnight. Right after shooting at people who were trying to kill you, you now have to help them."

The anger towards their own senior officers is obvious. Cpl Richardson said: "We weren't trained for this stuff now. It makes you resentful they're holding us on here. It pisses everyone off, we were told once the war was over we'd leave when our replacements get here. Well, our replacements got here and we're still here."

Specialist Castillo said: "We're more angry at the generals who are making these decisions and who never hit the ground, and who don't get shot at or have to look at the bloody bodies and the burnt-out bodies, and the dead babies and all that kinda stuff." Sgt Quinones added: "Most of these soldiers are in their early twenties and late teens. They've seen, in less than a month, more than any man should see in a whole lifetime. It's time for us to go home."

On whether the war was one worth fighting, Sgt Meadows said: "I don't care about Iraq one way or the other. I couldn't care less. [Saddam] could still be in power and, to me, it wasn't worth leaving my family for; for getting shot at and almost dying two or three times, there's nothing worth that to me." Even though no Iraqis were involved, and there is no proof Saddam was behind it, the attack on the World Trade Center provides Cpl Richardson and many others with the justification for invading Iraq.

"There's a picture of the World Trade Center hanging up by my bed and I keep one in my Kevlar [flak jacket]. Every time I feel sorry for these people I look at that. I think, 'They hit us at home and, now, it's our turn.' I don't want to say payback but, you know, it's pretty much payback."

http://www.jihadunspun.com/intheatre_internal.php?article=62263&list=/home.php
"I Just Pulled The Trigger"

HE WAS AN AMERICAN HERO. NOW HE'S AN AMERICAN

THE WESTERN FRONT
José Antonio Gutierrez
He was an American hero. Now he's an American.
http://www.opinionjournal.com/columnists/bminiter/?id=110003295

BY BRENDAN MINITER
Friday, April 4, 2003 12:01 a.m.

One of the first U.S. soldiers to die in Iraq was not an American citizen. He'd come here illegally as a teenager. His name was José Antonio Gutierrez. He was killed on March 21 by enemy fire while trying to secure Umm Qasr, a port vital for humanitarian aid. He was a 22-year-old lance corporal in the U.S. Marine Corps.

It's easy to discount talk of the American dream as hyperbole, a cliché carelessly tossed about. But then there are people like Gutierrez, whose whole life proved that the naysayers were wrong. It is possible to escape the oppression of your circumstances. It's no coincidence that he joined the Marines, whose motto is "semper fidelis." Gutierrez remained always faithful to the dream that inspires the best within us. And for this he is an American hero.

Gutierrez was born in Guatemala, but he told his American foster family only an outline of his life there. It's easy to see the pain in the omitted text. His mother died when he was three. Five years later his father was dead. He left school to work a series of odd jobs to buy food for himself and his sister, Engracia. He learned about the U.S. from an American aid worker at a shelter.

Then "the mentor left," explains Lillian Cardenas--one of his foster sisters--so Gutierrez decided to head for America by stowing away on freight trains. He got stuck in Mexico for a couple of years, crossing into California when he was 14. He was determined to see Los Angeles. Somehow he ended up in Hollywood.

He slept on park benches and got food from a shelter. An alert social worker enrolled him in a program that helped him gain legal residency and placed him with a foster family. The first placement didn't work out. Neither did the second or the third. Finally in 2000, he came to live with Nora and Marcelo Mosquera (themselves immigrants from Costa Rica and Ecuador).

The Mosqueras have three "biological" children, but have cared for more than two dozen foster children over the years, some of whom they've adopted. They never adopted Gutierrez, but on Mother's Day last year he wrote home and "formally" asked if he could call them mom and dad.

He never forgot Engracia, often calling or sending her money. But he reached new heights with the Mosqueras. They pressured him to learn English (in frustration he'd say he just wanted to learn enough "to get by"). He had a strong faith in God and would urge his siblings to go to church--they were all Catholic. He was a private person, but would jokingly tell the family that someday "people will know my name." After high school he was recruited to play soccer for nearby Harbor College. There he began studying architecture.

Gutierrez loved America and talked about giving something back by enlisting in the Army. A few months after Sept. 11, he surprised everyone by announcing he'd joined the Marines. The Army recruiter just wasn't as convincing, he told them. After he graduated from Parris Island in March 2002, the Marines became another family for him.

"You always had to take the big car when you picked up José," Mrs. Cardenas recalls. "I have a little Acura, and once drove it the 90 minutes to Camp Pendleton to pick him up," she said chuckling. He was waiting there with five buddies. "Honestly, I have to tell you that you're not all going to fit." Sometimes he'd show up for dinner with as many as 30 Marines. "There were Marines everywhere," she said, but they were all welcome. "Whenever you'd have him around, you didn't have a worry in the world."

He knew the danger that awaited him in the Gulf. Before leaving, he asked his foster family to take care of Engracia. "You're her family now," he said. But Mrs. Cardenas also remembers why he was willing to go to war. "From what I've seen," Saddam has to be confronted, he told them. "It's my job. It's also my duty."

Gutierrez, along with José Angel Garibay--a Marine killed on March 23 battling for Nasiriyah--has now been awarded citizenship posthumously.
Mr. Miniter is assistant editor of OpinionJournal.com. His column appears Tuesdays.

Copyright © 2003 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

REAL GUNNYS

REAL GUNNYs think Lieutenants should be seen and not heard, and never, ever, be allowed to read books on leadership.

REAL GUNNYs don't have any civilian clothes.

REAL GUNNYs don't remember any time they weren't GUNNYs.

REAL GUNNYs propose to their future spouses like this "There will be a wedding at 1000 hours on 29 October, be there in blues with your
gear packed because you will be a prime participant."

REAL GUNNYs favorite food is shipboard SOS for breakfast.

REAL GUNNYs don't know how to tell civilian time.

REAL GUNNYs call each other "GUNNY."

REAL GUNNYs greatest fear is signing for property book items.

REAL GUNNYs dream in Marine Corps Scarlet and Gold, cammy earthtones,
and occasionally green.

REAL GUNNYs have served in places that are now war memorials or
tourist attractions.

REAL GUNNYs can find their way to the SNCO Club blindfolded, on 15 different bases.

REAL GUNNYs have pictures of weapons in their wallets.

REAL GUNNYs don't own any pens that do not have "Property U.S. Govt" on them.

REAL GUNNYs don't voluntarily get the mandatory flu shots.

REAL GUNNYs don't order supplies, they swap for them.

REAL GUNNYs think excessive modesty is their only fault.

REAL GUNNY's last duty station was always better.

REAL GUNNYs know that the black tar in their coffee cup makes the coffee taste better.

REAL GUNNY's idea of heaven - Three good Sergeants and a Lieutenant who does what he is told.

REAL GUNNYs think John Wayne would have made a good GUNNY, if he had not gone soft and made a Seabee movie.

REAL GUNNYs use the term "Good Training" to describe any unpleasant task. Policing the parade ground is "Good Training." Having to sleep on your seabag in the parking lot because there was no room in the barracks is "Good Training."


~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A very special web site

Date :
Tue, 10 Jun 2003 06:55:51 -0500

Dear Mr. Gaines & Mr. Fornof ~

I hope this message finds it way to both of you. Mr. Gaines, I tried to post this to your message forum board but, for some reason, each time I tried to submit the post I'd simply get a new "post message here" page. So I finally decided to try to reach you through what I fear is your old email address. I hope, Mr. Fornof, if Mr. Gaines 'hotmail' email account really is no longer vaild , you might be kind enough to forward a copy of this to him as I really would like for him to know about this.

I'm writing to tell you both about a very special web site I created in late March to honor our men and women in uniform, past & present. A web site that ultimately you each played a role in creating. At the time I'd become endlessly frustrated with all of the 'anti-war - anti-American' sentiments filling the media and I felt as though my voice could never be heard above the dim. As a way of giving myself a 'vehicle' to 'have my say' I created and put up a couple of web pages to the internet ~ one ("The Ragged Old Flag") about honoring our flag and one ("It is the Veterans") about honoring our vets ~ both about honoring the people who serve this nation.

I published these two pages onto the net on March 28th and, aside from posting the urls on a few private bulletin boards I frequent and emailing them to a few online friends, I really made no effort to promote them ~ yet, in less than a weeks time, I began receiving hundreds of emails about them from all over the world ~ beautiful emails from members of our armed forces & from folks with family members or friends serving in the forces; from veterans and families of vets, living and dead; from people who lost family or friends in the September 11th attack on America and I've even received messages from our soldiers fighting in Iraq & Afghanistan. These messages brought tears to my eyes and a warmth to my heart. It was clear that many, many, many people shared the sentiment expressed within my pages and were using the pages to spread word far and wide that patriotism and support of those who fight for freedom was alive and well in America.

My joy over this site came to a sudden and dramatic end, however, when in mid-May I received a bill from my internet host server for over $11,500.00 for the month of April ~ all but $50.00 of which represented charges for traffic to the page in excess of my account's 'allotted allowance'. (ie: excess bandwidth use charges)!!

Yes, you read that right ~ nearly twelve thousand dollars due for just one month!!! (gulp! ~ my exact words, upon receiving this bill, are not any I'd care to repeat, as you might well imagine!!)

I knew this site was being enjoyed and shared by many because of all of the emails messages I'd been receiving but, even so, I had no idea that the traffic to the site was anywhere near a volume that would result in this kind of 'over-use charge'. With tears I immediate remove my entire tribute from the internet!! It broke my heart to take these pages down but, heaven help me, no way was I able to pay that kind of money for the privilege of keeping them online.

From the moment the site came down I began receiving email messages asking how to access the site and I ached each time I wrote back that the site was down 'indefinitely'. Strangely enough, I think the idea that this wonderful site was gone from the internet actually troubled me more than trying to figure out how to pay that monstrous bill ~ although I guarantee you BOTH issues cost me a lot of lost sleep this past month! I can't even begin to tell you how bad it felt when they were not online and available to view on Memorial Day!! sigh

Thankfully, some prayers about this situation must have a caught the attention the "Man Upstairs" because, after a very rough month of wrestling with this problem, it all worked out okay just this past Friday! First, the folks at my host server graciously made the decision to 'forgive' 90% of the excess bandwidth use charges!!! More than I dared hope for! And secondly, I was able to locate a different host server who offered a professional web hosting plan which allows unlimited bandwidth access without additional charges!! I signed on with this server, quickly made arrangements to re-direct my domain to their system and spent the next 36 hours loading up my files to their ftp local.

So I am thrilled to say that, not only am I not going to end up in 'debtor's prison' ('cause, Lord knows, I couldn't afford to pay that bill) but, as of this last Sunday, ALL OF MY PATRIOTIC PAGES ARE FINALLY BACK UP ONLINE WHERE THEY BELONG!!! Not only are they back, they are bigger and better than before ~ thanks, in part, to the two of you.

The pages are actually one web site, but each page can stand alone ~ here are the urls:


Page 1.)"The Ragged Old Flag"

Page 2.)"It Is The Veteran"

Page 3.)"Who Raised The Flag On Iwo Jima"

FYI- The Ragged Old Flag is the lead in page to "It Is The Veteran". Toward the bottom of the "Veteran" page (page 2) there is a link to the 'must see' "September 11 Memorial" swf type presentation which will open in a seperate window. From that page, if you scroll down to the very bottom, you can access an additional separate page which contains Steve Golding's personal account of 9/11 ~ Steve Golding is the person who created this awesome swf file and in his account he explains what prompted him to put it together. His story is as incredible as his creation and it's one everyone should read!

The "Who Raised The Flag On Iwo Jima" page is my newest page and the one, I'm sure you've guessed, the two of you influenced so greatly! This page original came about as a result of a 'suggestion/request' I'd received from numerous viewers of the "It Is The Veteran" page - (all Marines, of course). They wrote to tell me that, while they enjoyed the poem about the veteran, the line that said 'five' men raised the flag on Iwo Jima needed to be changed to SIX men and went on to tell me about each of the men famous for this event.

Since I'd not written the poem I wasn't eager to change it - but the requests kept coming so I finally decided to look into matter. My "Who Raised The Flag On Iwo Jima" page is the result of this 'investigation' and it has, in fact, become my personal favorite. While working on it I feel as though I've come to know each of you and I really would like to share the result with you both. Since starting this little project, I have to admit, I've become 'hooked' on the history of Iwo Jima.

Although saddened that my tribute pages were not on line I actually did have an exceptionally wonderful Memorial Day ~ as it turned out I had the great honor of dining with a USMC veteran who'd been a Second Lieutenant on Iwo Jima in February 1945! I've known this gentlemen for several years now; knew he was a Retire Marine Office and that had served in World War II but I knew nothing about his tour of duty. The topic just never came up. Our Memorial Day dinner was a large outdoor Texas style Bar-BQ and we were enjoying the day dining at a large, lovely patio table over looking a small lake when, about midway through the meal, he asked me what I'd been up to lately ~ we hadn't seen each other for a couple of weeks and I usually see him several times a week. I told him how I'd been frantically trying to straighten out the internet mess I'd gotten myself into and then went on to mention that I'd also recently become very involved in researching the flag raising over Iwo Jima and was amazed at the things I'd been learning.

At the mention of Iwo Jima a strange sort of 'far off look' seemed to settle in this old warrior's normally twinkling eyes and slowly they became visible moist. The change that swept over him was so profound it was palpable! It was almost as though a reverent glow emanated from him and quickly, but silently, enveloped all who were seated around the table. A hush fell over the group and it was very quiet for several moments. Finally, his expression shifted as the hint of a smile soften his serious face, and with a slight nodding of his head, he said to me, "You know, they really should have charge all of us admission for the right to be there. It was like nothing you've every seen."

In the hot Texas afternoon I immediately got goose-bumps and I felt the hair on the back of neck begin to rise. I shot a glance toward my husband who was seated across the table from me and I could see his eyes reddening as tears began to well up. I saw him purse his lips and swallow hard in an effort to hold em back. Seeing my Marine husband so deeply moved made my eyes smart with tears as well and I quickly looked back to this wonderful gentle man sitting next me. A man whose rich full tenor voice had charmed me so often with so many wonderful old Irish songs - a man I thought I knew so well and I stammered, "You were there????? You were there on Iwo Jima????" "Yeap," he said, still nodding and with a big smile he added, "and let me tell you, you couldn't hardly see even the bigger flag from down below!!!"

Over the next few weeks I plan to spend some time REALLY getting to know my friend better and I hope to be able to add an additional page to this project ~ a page from the 'personal perspective' of a person who remembers it all.

Well, gosh, I didn't mean to write a book here but I really did want to invite you to see these pages and to let you know why I'm so thrilled my special site is back online. I hope enjoy them and, since I don't have to worry about how many visitors I get in a month anymore, I hope you will feel free to share the link with anyone you think may enjoy it! (*very big grin*)

I'd better warn you though, the pages are REALLY graphic intense and (depending upon your internet connection) may take a while to load ~ but most people find it well worth the wait. Also, I recently discovered that some virus protection software prevents embedded wav/mp3 files from automatically loading and playing when a web page is opened so some visitors to these pages have not been hearing the sound hat accompanies the stories. A large part of the enjoyment of these pages is listening to the sound files that go with them, so I have placed a special link for each sound file right next to the where the player console would be if the file had loaded (when the file doesn't load I think you end up seeing a small box with an x in it where the console would normally be). If the sound files don't play when you open the page, you can click on this special link and the appropriate sound file will load and play in a separate window. (This probably isn't the greatest way to 'fix' this problem but, for now at least, it will allow everyone to hear the files - one way or the other.)

Okay ~ enough is enough and this is probably WAY TOO much... sheepish grin ......sorry! I do run on sometimes but it is just that I so thrilled that these pages are back online that I want everyone (especially those who played a role in their creation) to have a chance to see them now.

I have placed a special acknowledgment of appreciate to you two at the bottom of the Iwo Jima page. If, for whatever reason, you would rather I not link my page back to yours, Mr. Gaines, please tell me and I will remove it immediate with no hard feelings. I really want to give credit where credit is due, so I link the acknowledgment directly to your forum page.

Well, I guess I'd better close, so I'll leave you with a thought that has taken hold in heart of late ~ this is such a wonderful country with a rich and compelling history . A nation blessed with caring people, strong of heart and noble of spirit! It is truly a joy to be able share this special experience with so many others in such a unique and inspiring way.

My best,
Zac's Mom
Dallas, Texas

PS ~ Mr. Jacobs and I have corresponded once before regarding this page but he has not seen this version of it as yet so I will be sending the link to him today.

--
"There's a war out there and it's not about who's got the most bullets. It's about who controls the information. What we see and hear, how we work, what we think ~ it's all about information." (From The Federation Of American Scientists)


The Ragged Old Flag ~ View A Very Special Web Site For & About Our Men & Women In Uniform

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will they earn the right to call themselves Marines?

06/08/2003

By DAVID TARRANT / The Dallas Morning News

While America was at war this spring, a new generation of warriors was being created at boot camp in San Diego. Reporter David Tarrant and photographer Huy Nguyen have monitored three Dallas-area recruits as they attempted to make the transformation from civilians to Marines.

Black camouflage paint covers his weary face. He shifts to adjust the weight of the 60-pound rucksack, the straps biting into his shoulders. It is 5 a.m., and Aaron Brumley stands quietly, his rifle slung over his back. Squinting into the darkness, he waits on the unknown.

With him are 252 other Marine recruits from six platoons. Wearing their desert cammies and helmets, they stand in formation along a rocky, sloping path. Their bloodshot eyes show the strain of long days and nights in the field. Exhausted, dirty, hungry and nursing aching muscles, sprained ankles, blistered feet and a wide assortment of cuts, scrapes and bruises, they await their marching orders.

In the formation are Victor Rios and Michael Spencer. Along with Recruit Brumley, they arrived from Dallas at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego, on a cold night in February, under a brilliant full moon, with talk of war reaching a crescendo.

They did not rush into recruiting offices in a burst of patriotic zeal. All three wanted to measure themselves against the benchmark of the longest and toughest boot camp in the military.

They wanted to know if they could live up to the traditional ideals of a 200-year-old institution, with its old-world pledge of "semper fidelis" � always faithful � to God, country and Corps. They wanted to know if boot camp could do what it promised: transform tentative, immature individuals into Marines, with confidence, self-reliance and commitment.

In essence, each wanted to know: Do I belong here?

The next few hours will give them their answer.

"Let's step!" snaps Capt. Max Hopkins, the commander of 3rd Battalion, Kilo Company.

With those two words, the recruits start the final, most memorable and grueling part of their journey to becoming Marines.

With two weeks of basic training to go, they are nearing the end of a 54-hour marathon called the "Crucible." The training exercise gives the recruits a taste of the chaos of combat. The Crucible's 32 stations include combat assault courses, problem-solving areas, a pugil-stick ring and team-building "warrior stations" that tell stories of Marine heroes.

The course is spread over a 4,500-acre portion of Camp Pendleton, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Crisscrossed by footpaths and scarred with deep ruts, its hills and meadows are tricky enough to hike in daylight. But at night, the furrowed paths can prove treacherous, and more than a few recruits have painfully rolled ankles on them. Rattlesnakes lurk in the tall grass and occasionally slither quickly past.

In 2 � days, recruits march 40 miles over these grounds � the last segment being this final nine-mile hike known as the "Grim Reaper."

Hounded by drill instructors when they falter, the recruits must fight off the creeping doubts and continue putting one foot in front of the other, one hill after another.

But the worst is saved for the end: a hill that angles up steeply for its final 20 yards.

They have to run up that part.

An uphill fight

That's nothing new to Recruit Brumley. He has spent the better part of his life running uphill.

Wild as a boy, he became involved in the juvenile justice system at 12. He was steered into a private, residential school for "at risk" boys, at a ranch in Amarillo. There he found plenty of structure and discipline, and he adapted well enough to go into a delayed-entry program for the Marines his senior year of high school.
The Recruit's Road
3/30: The journey begins | Photos
4/27: Training builds fighting spirit | Photos
6/08: Who earns the right to be called Marine? | Photos

One day, he bumped into a woman he hadn't seen since they were both kids growing up near Amarillo. They used to walk home from school holding hands. Then it was puppy love; now it was real. He dropped out of school and moved to Dallas with her. They married a year later in 1999. He started working, became a father and the dream of becoming a Marine faded.

Then he lost his job with a cable company. He waited six months, and when the job market didn't improve, he revived his old dream. On Feb. 18, his 24th birthday, he arrived in San Diego � and quickly regretted it.

Homesickness tormented him. Halfway through boot camp his older brother's death from liver disease brought further anguish.

Pain, the drill instructors tell recruits, is "weakness leaving the body." But the pain of separation from his loved ones never seemed to go.

So he learned to pull through it, sustained by a lifeline of letters, a sense of humor that rarely buckled and a growing sense of belonging. With rifle practice and training in combat skills, he was beginning to feel more like a Marine.

On the Grim Reaper march, his every step aches from a pain in his heel that he first noticed a few days earlier. But he pushes it out of his mind as he marches, under a brightening sky, his eyes on the next hill.

Fighting passivity

About 100 yards back in the formation, Recruit Spencer maintains his pace. He likes to march. It gives him a chance to think. The drill instructors who are always on his case about something mostly leave him alone during hikes. He can keep up.

He started the Crucible flat on his back. The drill instructor announced a casualty drill and pointed at him. Two other recruits dragged him by the arms across 50 yards of dusty, rocky ground.

It was the kind of role � passively helped along by others � that Recruit Spencer wanted to change about himself. His high-achieving father survived the Holocaust, graduated from the University of California at Berkeley and worked first as an engineer and later as a physician.

In contrast, Recruit Spencer was having a hard time finishing college.

Thoughtful, articulate and unfailingly polite, he was slow to adjust to the "gung-ho" atmosphere of the Marines. He didn't sound off full tilt or throw himself into every task as if his life depended on it. It was enough for him to keep up but not to reach higher.

"From the very first day, I thought he was only doing the minimum," says Recruit Rios, a member of the same platoon.

Frustrated drill instructors viewed his lackluster manner with alarm. To them, it was a clear sign of indifference, deficiency of discipline and weak commitment. When he failed to climb ropes or cross the monkey bars on the obstacle course, they blamed his self-doubts. It wasn't a matter of physical strength � he lacked confidence, the drill instructors repeatedly told him.

"That was one of my lowest mental points," Recruit Spencer says.

At other times, he stood apart by choice. At evening prayer, the Catholics got together in one corner of the barracks, the Protestants in another corner, and he would pray by himself, the sole Jewish recruit in his platoon.

He nevertheless outshined many other recruits in areas requiring thinking and study, such as marksmanship, where he earned the highest of three rankings. He scored a perfect mark on his practical exam, which tested knowledge of Marine Corps history and customs. He also scored perfectly on the Marine Corps Martial Arts Training exam.

But where the Marines put a premium on teamwork, he thought it was more important to learn to do things for himself.

"I came to boot camp too reliant on other people. What I was wanting to do was become more self-reliant."

How could he be a member of the team if he couldn't do his part? He had no choice but to break the habit of letting others help him, he says. No one could do his physical fitness test for him. If he couldn't do the minimum required four pull-ups, he would fail � and drop back a couple of weeks or possibly wash out. So he started lifting weights on his own and passed the test.

Recruit Rios, for one, noticed a difference. "He started working at raising the maximum level of what he could do."

By strengthening himself, "I can keep up," he says.

"And when there's something that I can't do by myself, I can get that help, but I'm also putting in my 100 percent. It's not like, 'Help me, I'll do 10 percent and you do the rest.' "

'Mommy! Mommy!'

Marching with a noticeable limp, Recruit Rios stares blankly ahead, moving almost by force of habit.

His left ankle throbs. He had rolled it a dozen times during the Crucible, and now there is an ugly, large lump there. He tries not to cry.

He has come far since that gray morning when he was just another recruit on the bus leaving downtown Dallas. Then, too, he had fought back his tears. But when he caught sight of his mother standing at a corner waiting for the light to turn, his heart broke. She was crying.

Jumping up, he pounded his fists on the window, yelling, "Mommy, Mommy!" It took several recruits to calm him down.

Since then, he has written more than a dozen letters to his mother, Lizet Lopez, who lives in Balch Springs. In one, he thanked her for everything she had done for him over the years, for putting him first, even after his father had left when he was a baby.

"I always put everything else ahead of you, and now I realize I should have put you first," he wrote.

He missed her and his home, but he wasn't a kid anymore, he wrote in another letter. "I have worked too hard, and nothing is going to hold me back."

And nothing has.

He was appointed a squad leader, supervising up to 10 recruits, getting them to do tasks, such as cleaning the barracks, as ordered by the drill instructors.

Squad leaders are held accountable for their recruits' mistakes, meaning they would be punished as well.

During one exercise in the Crucible, he and three other recruits had to carry a casualty on a wooden board a half-mile. The board was hard to grasp, and the recruit playing the casualty weighed about 200 pounds. They staggered under the load and dropped it several times. Each time, Recruit Rios would urge the group on. "Pick it up," he shouted. "Let's go! ... Don't drop him ...Come on, let's go!"

Learning the skills to oversee, motivate and take care of his squad was a big change for someone who grew up preferring to do things by himself.

"I used to be like a little kid. I used to play Nintendo all the time."

His soft voice reflected his shyness.

"When I came in, people used to say I had a girly voice because I was so quiet. And now I feel like it's changed. I hear it myself. Now I actually feel like a man. I actually feel like I'm maturing."

Mission accomplished

They plod along the path, some shuffling, others sagging under the their packs.

"I see the thousand-mile stare � and a little bit of fear," says Capt. J.T. Doan, a series commander.

Drill instructors yell sharply up and down the line. "Keep it tight ... Keep your head up ..."

"What happens if you fall out in combat?" screeches a sergeant to a recruit staggering to keep up. "You get killed, right?"

"Yes sir!"

Recruit Spencer lumbers along. As he does, he wonders whether boot camp is the transforming experience that the Marines say it is.

"If you're just looking for the typical success story of Marine Corps boot camp, that's it right there," he says, referring to Recruit Rios. "He goes in very shy ... and now he's a new man, very aggressive, doesn't mind giving orders; he's not shy at all anymore."

In contrast, Recruit Spencer doesn't feel he has changed much. "I'm still the same person."

He ponders which boot-camp habits will stick with him. His girlfriend probably hopes that cleanliness is one of them, he says, "keeping your room clean, and all that."

In fact, he has noticed another change. On another hike before the Crucible, he came to this realization:

"It dawned on me that this was the first time I had done something on my own" � without help from family, friends or others, he said. "It was a good feeling of accomplishment."

About 8 a.m., the recruits pause at the base of the last hill, staring up at the steep crest.

There is a spectacular view all around them. But nobody notices. They rest, drink water and mutter about aches and pains. They are waiting for several stragglers to catch up, some of whom are being "towed" with a rope attached to a drill instructor walking in front of them.

Each recruit has found some way to keep going on through pain and fatigue. For Recruit Brumley, it is the knowledge that each step brings him closer to seeing his wife, Nikki, and his daughter, Hanna.

Recruit Spencer finds strength in a prayer, that he has repeated throughout the hike. "Lord, thank you for getting me through the past two days, now please help me up the Grim Reaper."

Recruit Rios thinks of his mother.

"I kept saying to myself if this is what it's going to take to see my mom, this is what I'm going to do. I would look at every hill and think, 'I'm going to see my mom.' That's what got me over every hill."

Standing in the front row, Recruit Brumley carries the Kilo Company flag. With the roar of 40 voices screaming "Ah-tack!" he and his peers run, stagger and lurch up the hill. The other platoons follow.

Recruits show none of the exhilaration of, say, a football player who just scored a winning touchdown. It is more like a dazed awareness of having survived a nightmare.

At first, Recruit Brumley feels enormous relief that he hadn't fallen while carrying the company flag. Then it occurs to him that he had made it through the toughest part of training � and "No blisters!"

But it turned out he did have a hairline fracture in his heel � the cause of the pain that dogged him throughout the Crucible, he would be told later at the infirmary.

For Recruit Spencer, the fact that the hardest part of boot camp is behind him, and that soon he will be officially a Marine, doesn't hit him right away. "We did the Reaper, and we're up there, and I thought, 'Well ... ?' "

After a few minutes' rest to put down their packs and drink water, the recruits gather around one last signpost to talk about one more moment of glory, a World War II battle during which Marines engaged in hand-to-hand combat to repulse a much larger enemy force.

"That's why the Marine Corps is still here," Staff Sgt. Efrain Montejano tells them. A Marine never gives up.

"It's 90 percent mental and 10 percent physical. It's here and here," he says, pointing to his head and heart.

Standing there, Recruit Rios' stoicism finally cracks, and he cries for the first time since he left Dallas.

"I was up on the hill, and we were reading the Medal of Honor citation and I started crying," he says.

"I was a step closer to my goal."

What has changed?

Two weeks after the Crucible, it is Family Day at the Recruit Depot. It is the first time that family and friends are invited to see the recruits, who left home three months earlier.

On a bright, windy and cool morning, the recruits are doing a 4-mile run, passing by the crowd gathered on the parade deck.

"They're coming this way now!" shouts a Marine sergeant over a loudspeaker. "Show them that you're here!"

The crowd erupts with shouts and waves.

Chanting in unison and running in formation, the recruits trot past in their green running shorts and T-shirts. The exhaustion that showed on their faces at the end of the Grim Reaper has been transformed. They look proud, serious and confident, with bone-deep tans and strong voices.

"There's Daddy!" shouts Nikki Brumley, holding her 18-month-old daughter. Mrs. Brumley is wearing a loose-fitting, gray sweatshirt with MARINES in big, block letters.

"He's definitely changed. He looks good," says Pvt. Brumley's uncle, Bennie Brumley.

Maria Spencer, Pfc. Spencer's mother, is crying. Next to her, a teary-eyed Regina Barnett, Michael Spencer's girlfriend, tries to take pictures.

Nearby, Lizet Lopez and Monica Martinez, Pfc. Rios' mother and girlfriend, are dabbing at their eyes with tissue.

"He's gotten a little bit bigger," Ms. Lopez says.

By midmorning the recruits have returned to the parade deck, standing bayonet-straight in their service uniforms. The drill instructors quietly pass out the eagle, globe and anchor emblems and address each recruit for the first time as "Marine."

Minutes later, the men are dismissed to their families. Pvt. Brumley wraps his long arms around his wife and daughter, father and uncle in one large, tight embrace. Everyone is crying.

The next day's graduation ceremony is quick and anticli mactic, with the Marines champing at the bit to start their 10-day liberty. Each recruit will return to Camp Pendleton for two weeks of additional combat training before heading off for schooling in their specialties.

Though they are now called Marines, what is different? Have the 12 weeks between the yellow footsteps and graduation transformed each from civilian to warrior?

Pvt. Brumley, who early on wanted to quit because of homesickness, has learned to push through emotional and physical pain. Pfc. Rios, who arrived shy and self-conscious, found his voice. He learned to lead recruits who could be stubborn, mulish at times.

To Pfc. Spencer, the answer doesn't come as quickly.

Back home in the "real world," he felt weird at first. He bought some DVDs but didn't watch them, because he didn't want to waste a day. He visited his recruiting officer, who expressed pride in him, reassured him that what he did was tough and added that there was always room for improvement. But still he did not know what to say one night over dinner with old friends when asked if he felt that he'd changed.

He lost 15 pounds, and the jeans he wore to boot camp are too big now. But he knows that's not what people were asking.

"They're expecting to hear something, and I don't know what to tell them. I'm starting to feel like I should make up something," he says.

He did achieve his goal of completing something on his own; his late father would have been proud of him. But the young man who entered boot camp with questions about himself has not resolved those self-doubts.

Uncertainty, however, is one of the first challenges Marine recruits face in boot camp. Perhaps this is Pfc. Spencer's lesson: That one can live with a certain amount of stress and doubt � and not just live, but accomplish the mission.

In that way, boot camp doesn't end the journey of self-discovery. It has just brought him a little farther down the road.

His drill instructors always said that the lessons of boot camp remain with a person for a lifetime. So he knows the answers will come in time.

"One of the things I've said is, 'I think it remains to be seen.' "

E-mail dtarrant@dallasnews.com

Online at: http://www.dallasnews.com/texasliving/stories/060803dnlivrecruit3.2472.html

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOT YOURS TO GIVE

The Story of Col. David Crockett, a US Representative from Tennessee
Originally published in "The Life of Colonel David Crockett," by Edward Sylvester Ellis, 1884.

One day in the House of Representatives a bill was taken up appropriating money for the benefit of a widow of a distinguished naval officer. Several beautiful speeches had been made in its support. The speaker was just about to put the question when Crockett arose:

"Mr. Speaker--I have as much respect for the memory of the deceased, and as much sympathy for the suffering of the living, if there be, as any man in this House, but we must not permit our respect for the dead or our sympathy for part of the living to lead us into an act of injustice to the balance of the living. I will not go into an argument to prove that Congress has not the power to appropriate this money as an act of charity. Every member on this floor knows it.

We have the right as individuals, to give away as much of our own money as we please in charity; but as members of Congress we have no right to appropriate a dollar of the public money. Some eloquent appeals have been made to us upon the ground that it is a debt due the deceased. Mr. Speaker, the deceased lived long after the close of the war; he was in office to the day of his death, and I ever heard that the government was in arrears to him.

"Every man in this House knows it is not a debt. We cannot without the grossest corruption, appropriate this money as the payment of a debt. We have not the semblance of authority to appropriate it as charity. Mr. Speaker, I have said we have the right to give as much money of our own as we please. I am the poorest man on this floor. I cannot vote for this bill, but I will give one week's pay to the object, and if every member of Congress will do the same, it will amount to more than the bill asks."

He took his seat. Nobody replied. The bill was put upon its passage, and, instead of passing unanimously, as was generally supposed, and as, no doubt, it would, but for that speech, it received but few votes, and, of course, was lost.

Later, when asked by a friend why he had opposed the appropriation, Crockett gave this explanation:

"Several years ago I was one evening standing on the steps of the Capitol with some members of Congress, when our attention was attracted by a great light over in Georgetown. It was evidently a large fire. We jumped into a hack and drove over as fast as we could. In spite of all that could be done, many houses were burned and many families made houseless, and besides, some of them had lost all but the clothes they had on. The weather was very cold, and when I saw so many children suffering, I felt that something ought to be done for them. The next morning a bill was introduced appropriating $20,000 for their relief. We put aside all other business and rushed it through as soon as it could be done.

"The next summer, when it began to be time to think about election, I concluded I would take a scout around among the boys of my district. I had no opposition there but, as the election was some time off, I did not know what might turn up. When riding one day in a part of my district in which I was more of a stranger than any other, I saw a man in a field plowing and coming toward the road. I gauged my gait so that we should meet as he came up, I spoke to the man. He replied politely, but as I thought, rather coldly.

"I began: 'Well friend, I am one of those unfortunate beings called candidates and---

"Yes I know you; you are Colonel Crockett. I have seen you once before, and voted for you the last time you were elected. I suppose you are out electioneering now, but you had better not waste your time or mine, I shall not vote for you again."

"This was a sockdolger...I begged him tell me what was the matter.

"Well Colonel, it is hardly worthwhile to waste time or words upon it. I do not see how it can be mended, but you gave a vote last winter which shows that either you have not capacity to understand the Constitution, or that you are wanting in the honesty and firmness to be guided by it. In either case you are not the man to represent me. But I beg your pardon for expressing it that way. I did not intend to avail myself of the privilege of the constituent to speak plainly to a candidate for the purpose of insulting you or wounding you.'

"I intend by it only to say that your understanding of the constitution is very different from mine; and I will say to you what but for my rudeness, I should not have said, that I believe you to be honest.

But an understanding of the constitution different from mine I cannot overlook, because the Constitution, to be worth anything, must be held sacred, and rigidly observed in all its provisions. The man who wields power and misinterprets it is the more dangerous the honest he is.'

" 'I admit the truth of all you say, but there must be some mistake. Though I live in the backwoods and seldom go from home, I take the papers from Washington and read very carefully all the proceedings of Congress. My papers say you voted for a bill to appropriate $20,000 to some sufferers by fire in Georgetown. Is that true?

"Well my friend; I may as well own up. You have got me there. But certainly nobody will complain that a great and rich country like ours should give the insignificant sum of $20,000 to relieve its suffering women and children, particularly with a full and overflowing treasury, and I am sure, if you had been there, you would have done just the same as I did.'

"It is not the amount, Colonel, that I complain of; it is the principle. In the first place, the government ought to have in the Treasury no more than enough for its legitimate purposes. But that has nothing with the question. The power of collecting and disbursing money at pleasure is the most dangerous power that can be entrusted to man, particularly under our system of collecting revenue by a tariff, which reaches every man in the country, no matter how poor he may be, and the poorer he is the more he pays in proportion to his means.

What is worse, it presses upon him without his knowledge where the weight centers, for there is not a man in the United States who can ever guess how much he pays to the government. So you see, that while you are contributing to relieve one, you are drawing it from thousands who are even worse off than he.

If you had the right to give anything, the amount was simply a matter of discretion with you, and you had as much right to give $20,000,000 as $20,000. If you have the right to give at all; and as the Constitution neither defines charity nor stipulates the amount, you are at liberty to give to any and everything which you may believe, or profess to believe, is a charity and to any amount you may think proper. You will very easily perceive what a wide door this would open for fraud and corruption and favoritism, on the one hand, and for robbing the people on the other. 'No, Colonel, Congress has no right to give charity.'

"'Individual members may give as much of their own money as they please, but they have no right to touch a dollar of the public money for that purpose. If twice as many houses had been burned in this country as in Georgetown, neither you nor any other member of Congress would have Thought of appropriating a dollar for our relief. There are about two hundred and forty members of Congress. If they had shown their sympathy for the sufferers by contributing each one week's pay, it would have made over $13,000. There are plenty of wealthy men around Washington who could have given $20,000 without depriving themselves of even a luxury of life.'

"The congressmen chose to keep their own money, which, if reports be true, some of them spend not very creditably; and the people about Washington, no doubt, applauded you for relieving them from necessity of giving what was not yours to give. The people have delegated to Congress, by the Constitution, the power to do certain things. To do these, it is authorized to collect and pay moneys, and for nothing else. Everything beyond this is usurpation, and a violation of the Constitution.'

"'So you see, Colonel, you have violated the Constitution in what I consider a vital point. It is a precedent fraught with danger to the country, for when Congress once begins to stretch its power beyond the limits of the Constitution, there is no limit to it, and no security for the people. I have no doubt you acted honestly, but that does not make it any better, except as far as you are personally concerned, and you see that I cannot vote for you.'

"I tell you I felt streaked. I saw if I should have opposition, and this man should go to talking and in that district I was a gone fawn-skin. I could not answer him, and the fact is, I was so fully convinced that he was right, I did not want to. But I must satisfy him, and I said to him:

"Well, my friend, you hit the nail upon the head when you said I had not sense enough to understand the Constitution. I intended to be guided by it, and thought I had studied it fully. I have heard many speeches in Congress about the powers of Congress, but what you have said here at your plow has got more hard, sound sense in it than all the fine speeches I ever heard. If I had ever taken the view of it that you have, I would have put my head into the fire before I would have given that vote; and if you will forgive me and vote for me again, if I ever vote for another unconstitutional law I wish I may be shot.'

"He laughingly replied; 'Yes, Colonel, you have sworn to that once before, but I will trust you again upon one condition. You are convinced that your vote was wrong. Your acknowledgment of it will do more good than beating you for it. If, as you go around the district, you will tell people about this vote, and that you are satisfied it was wrong, I will not only vote for you, but will do what I can to keep down opposition, and perhaps, I may exert some little influence in that way.'

"If I don't, said I, 'I wish I may be shot; and to convince you that I am in earnest in what I say I will come back this way in a week or ten days, and if you will get up a gathering of people, I will make a speech to them. Get up a barbecue, and I will pay for it.'

"No, Colonel, we are not rich people in this section but we have plenty of provisions to contribute for a barbecue, and some to spare for those who have none. The push of crops will be over in a few days, and we can then afford a day for a barbecue. 'This Thursday; I will see to getting it up on Saturday week. Come to my house on Friday, and we will go together, and I promise you a very respectable crowd to see and hear you.

"'Well I will be here. But one thing more before I say good-bye. I must know your name."

"'My name is Bunce.'

"'Not Horatio Bunce?'

"'Yes

"'Well, Mr. Bunce, I never saw you before, though you say you have seen me, but I know you very well. I am glad I have met you, and very proud that I may hope to have you for my friend.'

"It was one of the luckiest hits of my life that I met him. He mingled but little with the public, but was widely known for his remarkable intelligence, and for a heart brim-full and running over with kindness and benevolence, which showed themselves not only in words but in acts. He was the oracle of the whole country around him, and his fame had extended far beyond the circle of his immediate acquaintance. Though I had never met him, before, I had heard much of him, and but for this meeting it is very likely I should have had opposition, and had been beaten. One thing is very certain, no man could now stand up in that district under such a vote.

"At the appointed time I was at his house, having told our conversation to every crowd I had met, and to every man I stayed all night with, and I found that it gave the people an interest and confidence in me stronger than I had ever seen manifested before.

"Though I was considerably fatigued when I reached his house, and, under ordinary circumstances, should have gone early to bed, I kept him up until midnight talking about the principles and affairs of government, and got more real, true knowledge of them than I had got all my life before."

"I have known and seen much of him since, for I respect him - no, that is not the word - I reverence and love him more than any living man, and I go to see him two or three times every year; and I will tell you, sir, if every one who professes to be a Christian lived and acted and enjoyed it as he does, the religion of Christ would take the world by storm.

"But to return to my story. The next morning we went to the barbecue and, to my surprise, found about a thousand men there. I met a good many whom I had not known before, and they and my friend introduced me around until I had got pretty well acquainted - at least, they all knew me.

"In due time notice was given that I would speak to them. They gathered up around a stand that had been erected. I opened my speech by saying:

"Fellow-citizens - I present myself before you today feeling like a new man. My eyes have lately been opened to truths which ignorance or prejudice or both, had heretofore hidden from my view. I feel that I can today offer you the ability to render you more valuable service than I have ever been able to render before. I am here today more for the purpose of acknowledging my error than to seek your votes. That I should make this acknowledgment is due to myself as well as to you. Whether you will vote for me is a matter for your consideration only."

"I went on to tell them about the fire and my vote for the appropriation and then told them why I was satisfied it was wrong. I closed by saying:

"And now, fellow-citizens, it remains only for me to tell you that the most of the speech you have listened to with so much interest was simply a repetition of the arguments by which your neighbor, Mr. Bunce, convinced me of my error.

"It is the best speech I ever made in my life, but he is entitled to the credit for it. And now I hope he is satisfied with his convert and that he will get up here and tell you so.'

"He came up to the stand and said:

"Fellow-citizens - it affords me great pleasure to comply with the request of Colonel Crockett. I have always considered him a thoroughly honest man, and I am satisfied that he will faithfully perform all that he has promised you today.'

"He went down, and there went up from that crowd such a shout for Davy Crockett as his name never called forth before.'

"I am not much given to tears, but I was taken with a choking then and felt some big drops rolling down my cheeks. And I tell you now that the remembrance of those few words spoken by such a man, and the honest, hearty shout they produced, is worth more to me than all the honors I have received and all the reputation I have ever made, or ever shall make, as a member of Congress.'

"Now, sir," concluded Crockett, "you know why I made that speech yesterday. "There is one thing which I will call your attention, "you remember that I proposed to give a week's pay. There are in that House many very wealthy men - men who think nothing of spending a week's pay, or a dozen of them, for a dinner or a wine party when they have something to accomplish by it. Some of those same men made beautiful speeches upon the great debt of gratitude which the country owed the deceased--a debt which could not be paid by money--and the insignificance and worthlessness of money, particularly so insignificant a sum as $20,000 when weighed against the honor of the nation. Yet not one of them responded to my proposition. Money with them is nothing but trash when it is to come out of the people. But it is the one great thing for which most of them are striving, and many of them sacrifice honor, integrity, and justice to obtain it."

http://www.therightchoice.org/library/crockett.htm