Aboard the Iwo Jima, hero recalls epic battle

NORFOLK

Sixty-six years ago Wednesday, Hershel "Woody" Williams was face down in the black volcanic sand of Iwo Jima when he heard the cheers.

He and thousands of other Marines and Navy corpsmen were trying to break through Japanese defenses on the South Pacific island during what became one of the bloodiest battles of World War II.

"The Marines around me started yelling and screaming and firing their weapons in the air and jumping up and down," Williams recalled. "I really couldn't figure out what was going on."

He lifted his head slightly, his eyes following his comrades' gaze upward to Mount Suribachi.

"There was Old Glory flying," he said. He raised his M 1 rifle and started shooting into the air.

The flag-raising and its iconic photograph, published later in American newspapers, lifted the country's spirits and later was memorialized with a large statue adjacent to Arlington National Cemetery.

Williams' own valor on Iwo Jima was recognized with the Medal of Honor. On Wednesday, the Navy invited him to visit the WASP-class amphibious assault ship named for the epic battle.

Williams' mission that day in 1945 was to help clear a path for his comrades. He braved enemy machine guns, snipers and mines. He did it with a flamethrower.

Gripping a nozzle attached by a hose to a 70-pound tank strapped to his back, he shot the liquid flames into enemy positions for four hours while dodging bullets and repeatedly returning to safer areas to refill his tank.

At one point, he climbed atop a Japanese pillbox and stuck the nozzle of the flamethrower through the pillbox's air vent, killing the troops inside. When enemy riflemen tried to stop him with their bayonets, he charged them and destroyed them with a burst from the flamethrower.

Williams' only protection during the assault came from four Marine riflemen, two of whom were killed that day.

His actions allowed the Marines to push past a key Japanese stronghold. Before the month long fight was won, almost everyone in Williams' unit, the 21st Marine Regiment, 3rd Marine Division, had been killed or wounded. He suffered a shrapnel wound later in the battle.

In all, 6,821 Marines and corpsmen died or went missing on Iwo Jima, and an additional 25,851 were wounded.

Mental images of those days are as vivid as yesterday, said Williams, now 87 and retired in West Virginia.

"Just the words 'Iwo Jima' bring back many memories," Williams told more than 500 crew members gathered for the annual ceremony paying tribute to the men who took the island. "Some good. Some not so good."

Shortly before his speech, Williams visited the ship's "Suribachi Room," where war artifacts are kept in display cases near a wall etched with the names of Americans who were killed in the battle. Nearby are framed photographs of Williams and the 26 other men who received the Medal of Honor for actions on Iwo Jima.

Williams is the only one of the 27 still alive. He is one of 16 living World War II recipients of the Medal of Honor.

He repeated for his audience Wednesday what Marine Commandant Alexander Vandegrift told him in October 1945, shortly after President Harry S. Truman presented the Medal of Honor to Williams.

"That medal does not belong to you," Vandegrift said. It belongs to all the Marines who never came home. Don't do anything to tarnish it, he said.

The words stuck.

"I wear it especially for two Marines who, on Feb. 23, 1945, gave their lives protecting mine," Williams said. "I claim only to be the caretaker of the medal."

Afterward, the sailors in the audience crowded around him seeking an autograph, a snapshot or simply to salute him and shake his hand.

It's one thing to read about the battle or see the weapons, said Lesley Collins, a hospital corpsman. "This guy was actually there."

Williams, despite his age, didn't seem to tire from greeting the parade of sailors. He said he felt honored to meet them.

"We have Americans who are patriotic enough, love their country enough, that they are willing to volunteer and serve, knowing they could give their life," he said. "To me, that's amazing."

Bill Bartel, (757) 446-2398, bill.bartel@pilotonline.com