MWSAPCA Finalist 4 - Iwo Jima, August 14, 1945 by Jerry Yellin

Inspiration Image—IWO photo by Richard Lowry

Iwo Jima, August 14, 1945
My memories of August 14, 1945 are very clear. I flew P-51’s from Iwo Jima over Japan during WWII as a 21-year old Captain and Flight leader. On August 6, I returned from a mission when LT. Phil Maher jumped on my wing and shouted, “We dropped one bomb and wiped out a city, it’s over!”
There was a sense of relief in the entire squadron. No more 8-hour missions. No more guys being killed. We had survived. Our motto “Back Alive in 45,” seemed to have been fulfilled.
But it wasn’t to be.
A notice was posted in the ready room on August 13, with our assignments for the next day’s mission for all to read. The briefing would start at 1600 hours.
Major Jim Tapp, squadron commander stood in front of the map of Japan and started to talk, “Why another mission?” was called out from the gathering of pilots. Tapp responded,” We have to keep them honest. We will take off at 0800 but I doubt we will reach the target before the war is called off. If you hear the code word ‘Ohio,’ we will abort the mission and return to ‘Hotrocks’ (the code name of Iwo Jima).”
I was scheduled to lead Blue flight. Phil Schlamberg, a 19-year old pilot from Brooklyn, NY, was my wingman. Schlamberg, sitting next to me, leaned over, and said, “Captain, if I go, I won’t come back.”
Startled, I said, “Why?”
“Just a feeling I have,” Phil responded.
When the briefing ended, I approached Tapp and told him what Schlamberg told me and asked if there was a replacement.
“There isn’t anyone to take his place, Jerry. Doc Lewis can get him off if there is a medical reason and Schlamberg agrees,” Tapp replied.
When I asked Phil, he said, “No way.”
On the morning of the mission, I told Phil, “Just stay close on my wing, tuck it in tight, you will be OK. We will probably abort before we reach the target.”
No one heard the code word before we dropped our wing tanks and started strafing airfields near Tokyo. Phil was tight on my wing while we strafed our targets and on my wing when we started back toward the B-29 navigation plane. I looked over gave him a thumbs up and led the flight into some clouds. When we emerged into clear skies, Phil was gone, no radio transmission, no visual contact, just gone.
When we landed back at Iwo, we learned that the war had been over for three hours while we were over Japan.
In my mind Phil Schlamberg was the last man killed on a fighter mission over Japan and may very well have been the last man killed in combat in a war that took the lives of 60 million people.
Jerry Yellin Vero Beach, FL
POSTSCRIPT
I knew 16 young men who were killed during the war. I hated the Japanese all of my adult life. Then I attended a wedding in Japan on March 6, 1988, between the daughter of a Japanese Imperial Air Force veteran and my youngest son, Robert. This wedding between children of former enemies made me rethink, not only of my life as a warrior, but the lives of all of us who served in combat. Today I have three grandchildren living in Japan, aged 19, 17 and 13. They love me, I love them. I can’t help feeling that all of Humanity is the same, that the pure purpose of war is to kill and the pure purpose of life is to connect to all of Nature. It is up to the young people of our World to find a way to eliminate War and find a way to live in Unity with all of Humanity, in Harmony with Nature and find Peace for our Planet.

http://www.youtube.com/user/jerryellin

To vote for Jerry Yellin:
Send email to MWSAPCA4@gmail.com OR vote on this blog!

MWSA Peoples Choice Finalist 1 -- Calling by Mindy Phillips Lawrence

Inspiration Image -- “Father and Son” photo by Pat Avery

The re-enactment was the start of it. I, a small boy cradled in my father’s arms, had run my last lap around the battlefield where I’d sought out soldiers wearing Civil War uniforms and carrying vintage rifles. I was a small lad unaware of the greater significance of war and battle. It was a game to me then. Yet, when I was snuggled against my father’s chest, cheek resting on his gray woolen jacket, I knew I was protected from a dangerous, unknown world.
I had fun that day. While my father spoke with other soldiers, I held my mother’s hand and looked at the sites until she released her hold on me to look at the items in a craft tent. Then I wandered away. Fascinated by the tents set up by the soldiers, I entered one and sat. There, a soldier dressed in a color other than the color my father wore, showed me all the things he had there – his uniform, his cot, his gun. He talked to me about many things I was too young to remember and some I recall to this day. He told me that the soldiers in the Civil War didn’t want to be far from home but felt they had a purpose that was greater than sitting at their own hearth. They had gathered to decide the fate of a nation.
Soon a mounted soldier rode his horse to the tent where I was staying and found me. He told me my mother and father were worried and that I should come with him. He placed me on the horse, hugged me against him and rode to where my mother was waiting. “Where was he?” she asked. All the mounted soldier told her was, “Talking to another soldier, ma’am.”
I watched my father in battle. The cannon shook the ground with their sounding and kicked out great plumes of smoke from their barrels. The guns popped. One soldier fell to the ground then several more. A mounted soldier broke through the line and, followed by a foot soldier who took aim at him, dropped from his horse. At the end, they all got up from the ground and went home with their families, just as I went home with mine.
Even though I was very young, I remember that day as the planting of seeds inside me -- seeds like the fact that soldiers protect, that they fight for a cause and care enough for their families to leave them long enough to keep them safe.
I wear a uniform now because of the lessons I learned on the day I visited Gettysburg.

To vote for Mindy Phillips Lawrence:
Send email to MWSAPCA1@gmail.com
OR
Vote on this blog.