MWSA Finalist 2 -- Six Bronze Men -- Jack L. Wells

Inspiration Image — IWO photo by Richard Lowery

Straining to lift a heavy water pipe and place it and its five by eight flag at noon on a windy mountain top on a remote island. So why should such a statue even exist, let alone inspire?
These young men weren’t special. Just following orders and executing a task assigned as one of the multitude of tasks they would perform that February day. They were a hodge podge of youth from Ohio, New Hampshire, Texas, Pennsylvania or Wisconsin or even a native American from Arizona. One wasn’t even a native born American. His father and he had emigrated from Slovakia and he had only become naturalized 9 years earlier. Most were under 20. None had been to college. One wasn’t even assigned to do the task, he just pitched in when asked because the pipe was heavy and he happened to be close by. They were tired, dirty and looking forward to catching lunch soon. With names like Strenk, Sousley, Bradley, Gagnon, Block or Hayes, they weren’t famous or even in charge: just men doing their jobs in the cold wind.
Some guy with a camera wandered by and took a quick snapshot as the job was being completed. Just one black and white picture of the many he took that day that even he wouldn’t know was special until days later when the film was developed.
And their effort wasn’t even the first flag pole to be raised on the mountain, it was just a replacement for a smaller one placed a couple of hours before. It wasn’t a victory yet; not even close. It was just the beginning of what would take three more excruciating weeks. So their work that day was of small consequence. Not a big deal.
Half of the men lifting the pipe would be dead in a month. The other half would live longer but with emotional problems. One would die in less than 10 years. And two would live 30 or more years. All three would be reluctant to talk about that day or the weeks that followed.
Then why would someone make a statue of these men from that black and white photo and place it in a location of honor?
Because of what they represented: They were the sons, brothers, husbands, and best friends of America. The average guys that had gone off to fight and die for their country against the worst challenge America had faced since the Civil War. And the picture of the six of them became a symbol of sacrifice, determination and victory.
They were five US Marines and one US Navy corpsman atop Mount Suribachi on the Island of Iwo Jima. It was February 23, 1945.
And the bronze statue of them raising that flag stands proudly today by our nation’s capital reminding service men and women and a nation that bravery and heroism is usually just average Joes and Janes doing their jobs under difficult circumstances. It reminds us of the strength of our diverse nation. It reminds us that by working together we can remain free.
Six bronze men. Who would have thought they could mean so much?

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Send email to MWSAPCA2@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.

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Send email to MWSAPCA1@gmail.com
OR
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