USMC

Remembering Marines Charles McMahon, Darwin Judge Last American KIAs in Vietnam, April 29, 1975

On this day 44 years ago, America’s involvement came to a close when North Vietnamese soldiers completed their invasion of the south and stormed the capital of Saigon, now Ho Chi Minh City.

Those iconic images of Soviet-made tanks crashing thru the gates of the Presidential Palace and U.S. sailors pushing helicopters off the sides of American aircraft carriers to make room for others airlifting the “at-risk” South Vietnamese civilians to safety will burn forever in those of us who lived then.

That final day, 20 years after the United States got firmly embroiled in that war was when the reality and finality of our involvement there hit home. The last two Americans killed in Vietnam were U.S. Marines Charles McMahon and Darwin Judge, they were Embassy Guards assigned to Tan Son Nhut Air Base and were killed in a rocket attack as the North Vietnamese Army (NVA) shelled the base as the U.S. was airlifting the last of the aircraft and Vietnamese government and civilians out of harms way.

LCPL Judge was just 19 and from Marshalltown, Iowa. He was a baby-faced, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Eagle Scout. The All-American boy from the Mid-West.

CPL McMahon, then and forever 21, however, was from my hometown of Woburn, Massachusetts, and one of us locals. How in the world could this happen? We all wondered. The Paris Peace Accords had been signed in 1973, more than two years before these events played out. The United States was supposedly out of Vietnam.

After the U.S. pulled out in 1973, the only American personnel left were in the U.S. Embassy. During the airlift, the Marine guards were stationed at the airbase, which was considered a safe spot. But just 11 days after arriving in the country, the post that the two Marines were guarding was blasted by a direct hit of a rocket. Both Judge and McMahon were killed instantly.

Growing up in the blue-collar town of Woburn, the war in Vietnam could have been on the dark side of the moon. We watched it every night on the news and many of our townspeople served there, including several family members. But it seemed very remote as if it could never touch us. Despite that, several town members of Woburn fought in Vietnam and a few died there but those happened earlier in the war and those were before our recollection.

It was a strange time. Our town had a slew of proud World War II and Korean War vets and the feelings toward them was always a huge positive. But the anti-war sentiment that began in the mid-to-late 1960s grew and the Vietnam veterans were unfairly judged as the easy targets for the wrath of the people, who just wanted the war to end. Even in the patriotic suburb of Woburn, Vietnam vets were ignored and no one wanted to hear what they had to say.

McMahon’s death came as a shock. Prior to enlisting in the Marine Corps, McMahon was a fixture at the Woburn Boys Club. He and his boyhood friend George Holland were two of the older guys there and they taught swimming, served as lifeguards and served as mentors for the younger kids in town.

McMahon was the kind of older kid who could get anyone to do anything and always seemed to have a flock of kids around him. Growing up, I can remember seeing him jumping off the bridge in Hampton Beach, New Hampshire as traffic was backed up waiting to get over the bridge there. It was a good-sized drop down to the ocean below. His father and mother both worked at the General Foods Jello factory in town were some of our school bus drivers.

Holland was a natural all-around athlete and was a huge mentor to the younger kids. He looked like he was tailor-made for a Marine recruiting poster before he even joined. When the two enlisted in the Marines, it surprised no one. The man who ran our local Boys Club in town was named Charlie Gardner and he was a Marine thru and thru. He looked like a Marine even long after his wartime service in Korea. But he’d regale the older kids with stories of the Corps.

Holland remembers Gardner as being the Marine recruiter’s best friend. “There was a Gunny (Gunnery Sergeant) recruiter in Medford,” he said. “He’d come down to the Boys Club to see Charlie Gardner and ask,’ how many kids you got for me?’” Gardner was such an influence, that even during the anti-war days of the early ‘70s, Gardner convinced many young Woburnites to join the Marine Corps.

For the daredevil-turned-Devil Dog McMahon, the Marines which were supposed to be a stepping stone to the Massachusetts State Police became a calling. Holland remembers, “he loved the Marines as much as anybody I ever saw in the service,” said Holland. ” I think he would have stayed in the Marines a long time.”

The two touched base when Holland was awaiting a clearance to go to a nuclear submarine facility and McMahon was finishing up Embassy Guard School. This was at Henderson Hall in Washington D.C. “Charlie was a Lance Corporal and I was a “Lance Coolie” assigned to the Mess Hall,” Holland said with a laugh. “Oh, how he loved busin’ my chops during that time.”

McMahon (left) and George Holland (center) skiing just days before McMahon shipped out to Saigon.

The two got away for a weekend skiing just before McMahon was reassigned to Saigon. And posed for a picture with friends, not knowing it would be the last time, they’d be photographed together.

They discussed McMahon’s upcoming Saigon assignment. “We didn’t think he’d even leave,” Holland recalls. “Everything was falling apart in South Vietnam, the North had invaded and we thought before he’d even ship out the country would fall.”

But he did go and was only in Saigon for a few days before being killed on a fluke missile strike. Holland spoke with Marines who had survived the final days and they remembered that with the huge influx of Vietnamese civilians trying to get into the US Embassy, the Gunny in charge of the Embassy Guards assigned McMahon and Judge to Tan Son Nhut as it was deemed “safer” for the new guards on the watch.

In their assault on the city, the NVA unleashed a flurry of rockets for South Vietnamese positions. One rocket fell well short of its target and unintentionally landed on the two Marines’ position. They were killed instantly.

The Marines moved their two killed comrades to a local hospital where they were placed in the morgue. During the frenzied pullout of the final American personnel only hours later, the Americans thought they’d airlifted McMahon and Judge’s bodies offshore. But in the final chaos, they’d been inadvertently left behind.

The move was devastating to the Marines’ parents back in the states. “Charlie’s parents were really upset about this,” Holland said. No one could blame them. It took nearly a year but Sen. Ted Kennedy approached the North Vietnamese thru channels and arranged for their bodies to be flown to Thailand and finally home to the states.

“I was stationed at the sub base in Connecticut when my C.O. called me into his office,” Holland said. “You have to get up to Boston and meet CPL McMahon’s casket with his parents.”

The funeral was one of the biggest in Woburn’s history. “It was like a huge parade going thru town,” Holland said. “It seemed like everyone in town was there.”

The survivors formed the Fall of Saigon Marines Association to keep McMahon and Judge’s memories alive. This association, with 65 surviving members, awards $1,000 scholarships each spring to an Eagle Scout in Marshalltown and to the “Top Boy” and “Top Girl” at the Boys and Girls Club of Woburn.

Coincidentally, the first Marine killed in Vietnam was an Air Force Airman Richard Fitzgibbon from Stoneham, Mass. Fitzgibbon and McMahon grew up just three miles apart. Fitzgibbon was killed in 1955, twenty years later, McMahon and Judge were the last. Fitzgibbon’s son was killed in Vietnam as well.

With the enduring conflict in Afghanistan where both fathers and sons are both serving in combat zones, it is fitting that we today honor the first and last from Vietnam. They aren’t forgotten.

“Thanks for remembering Charlie today,” Holland said. “We’ll never forget him.”

Photos: McMahon family, Wikipedia

Release of Film Combat Obscura Draws Marine Corps’ Ire

Over at NEWSREP in a report written by Stavros Atlamazoglou, he’s saying the Marine Corps is not happy with the way that the Marines were depicted in the film Combat Obscura by former Marine and current Columbia University film student Jacob Lagoze.

In the film, where Lagoze and several other combat cameramen were attached to the Marine infantry battalion during a deployment in Afghanistan, they filmed the troops in the act of some very questionable activities. So much so that the Corps tried to block the release of the film.

U.S. Marines filling their cigarettes with Afghan hash or smoking marijuana while on guard duty. Profound language and unprofessional behavior. Extreme violence. “Combat Obscura” is certainly not your average recruiting film. And that’s the reason why the United States Marine Corps (USMC) doesn’t want you to watch it.
This war documentary was filmed and directed by Lance Cpl. Jacob Miles Lagoze, a former combat videographer and current film student of Columbia University School of the Arts. Lagoze and his fellow combat cameramen were attached to the 1st Battalion, 6th Marines and followed their infantry brethren during an arduous 2011 deployment in Helmand Province. Helmand, situated in southern Afghanistan, is considered one of the toughest places in country because it’s the spiritual home of the Taliban movement. It also contains vast poppy fields used to produce drugs, which complicates the situation on the ground and makes it that much harder for coalition troops to operate. Two huge bases were constructed in Helmand: the U.K.’s Camp Shorabak (formerly Bastion); and the U.S.’s Camp Leatherneck.
“Combat Obscura” triggered an angry response from the USMC. For months, it tried to block the film’s release, citing that it utilizes unauthorized U.S. Department of Defense footage. “The actions depicted in the film of these few betrayed the trust and safety of their fellow Marines; they selfishly put their own self-interests over their unit, and by doing so put their entire team at risk,” said Major Brian Block, a USMC spokesperson, as interviewed by Task & Purpose.
“While we contend that at least some of the content of the film — produced with Marine Corps equipment, during a Marine Corps deployment, and not cleared for public release by any official release authority — is rightly the property of the U.S. Government, we do not plan to pursue any legal action against Mr. Lagoze at this time,” added Major Block, implying to the potential public-relations backlash that would stem from such an action.

To read the entire article click here:

Photo: YouTube

Marine Col. Peter J. Ortiz, OSS, Career Reads Like Fiction

Marine Colonel Peter J. Ortiz, OSS, Story Reads Like Fiction

The OSS was an eclectic organization; General William Donovan wanted operators, he didn’t care about a soldier’s background or his political beliefs. The OSS wanted as Donovan said, “PhDs who can win a bar fight.” McGeorge Bundy said of the organization, “The OSS was a remarkable institution: half cops and robbers and half faculty meeting.”

But perhaps the most fascinating operator in the OSS was Marine Lieutenant Colonel Peter J. Ortiz. Ortiz’s story reads like a Hollywood fiction story. There were actually two Hollywood films made about Ortiz’s exploits, “13 Rue Madeleine” starring James Cagney and “Operation Secret” starring Cornell Wilde. Ortiz was one of the few Marines who saw combat in Europe during World War II. He was the recipient of two Navy Crosses, an OBE (Order of the British Empire) and numerous French awards. After the war, he became an actor and was in several films.

Ortiz was born in New York to an American Mother of Swiss descent and a French-born Spanish father. He was educated in France and spoke 10 different languages including Spanish, French, German and Arabic.

He did two stints in the French Foreign Legion, the first of which was in 1932 just for the adventure. He father tried to buy his way out once he found out but Ortiz wouldn’t leave. He stayed until 1937 and worked his way up from private to acting Lieutenant. Ortiz was awarded the Croix de Guerre with two palms, one gold star, one silver star, and five citations; the Croix des Combatants; the Ouissam Alouite; and the Medaille Militaire during his first tour and was offered a permanent commission as a Lieutenant if he’d reenlist for five more years and become a French citizen. But he turned them down and returned to the U.S.

He worked briefly in Hollywood as a technical adviser until WWII broke out. With the U.S. officially neutral, he reenlisted in the Legion in October 1939 and by 1940 had gotten a commission again. In 1940 he was wounded and taken prisoner. He escaped 15 months later making his way back to the U.S. thru Lisbon in December of 1941. He was awarded the Croix de Guerre (one palm, one silver star, two citations), Croix des Combattants during his second tour.

He joined the U.S. Marine Corps in June 1942 as a private, but due to his combat experience, his commander at the recruit depot wrote to the Commandant of the Marine Corps about him in July, requesting that he be given a commission. The letter, extraordinary in its own right, considering the subject of it was in boot camp .

Private Ortiz had made an extremely favorable impression upon the undersigned. His knowledge of military matters is far beyond that of the normal recruit instructor. Ortiz is a very well set up an and makes an excellent appearance. The undersigned is glad to recommend Ortiz for a commission in the Marine Corps Reserve and is of the opinion that he would be a decided addition to the Reserve Officer list. In my opinion, he has the mental, moral, professional, and physical qualifications for the office for which he has made application.

With the upcoming invasion of French North Africa looming, the Marine Corps, knowing of Ortiz’s knowledge of French, Spanish, and Arabic, he was offered to the Army to assist in the upcoming campaign. Although he’d only been a 2LT for three months, he was bypassed for 1LT and promoted directly to Captain. He was assigned as the Assistant Naval Attache in Tangiers, Morocco as a cover.

Ortiz organized a patrol of Arabs to scout German forces on the Tunisian front. And while doing so, his men got into a firefight with the Germans. Ortiz was badly wounded in the hand during the action. MG Donovan, Director of OSS, forwarded to the Marine Commandant a message from Algiers which stated, “While on reconnaissance on the Tunisian front, Captain Peter Ortiz, U.S.M.C.R. was severely wounded in the right hand while engaged in a personal encounter with a German patrol. He dispersed the patrol with grenades. Captain Ortiz is making good recovery in hospital at Algiers. The Purple Heart was awarded to him.” Donovan read Ortiz’s after-action report and wrote on it, “Very interesting, please re-employ this man as soon as possible.”

While recuperating in Washington early in May, 1943, Ortiz was reassigned to the Naval Command, OSS. He would become part of the Jedburgh operation.

On January 6, 1944, Ortiz who had over 150 parachute jumps while in the service of the French was air-dropped into the Haute-Savoie region of German-occupied France as part of the three-man “Union” mission, with Colonel Pierre Fourcaud of the French secret service and Captain Thackwaite from the British Special Operations Executive.

Their mission was to evaluate the status of the Maquis and the resistance in the area and impress upon them that to conduct Guerrilla Warfare in their areas, especially after D-Day was the most important factor for everyone involved. But the Maquisards lacked weapons and ammunition. The team arranged several drops of supplies and arms for the Maquis.

Although they jumped into France in civilian clothing, they still carried their uniforms and once there, they became the first Allied troops on the mainland of France since 1940. Thackwaite wrote about Ortiz, that he “knew not fear and did not hesitate to wear his U.S. Marine captain’s uniform in town and country alike” which while it was a morale boost to the French, was infuriating to the Germans.

His team was able to rescue four RAF pilots and Ortiz would accompany them to the border with Spain. Then in an act of derring-do that was particularly amazing, Ortiz raided a German military garage and took off with ten Gestapo vehicles, even snagging a pass which he used frequently. He was awarded the O.B.E. for his action.

His legend grew, there are several stories of him waltzing into German occupied towns in full uniform and having a go with the German troops. While the stories vary, they reinforce the fact that he was not afraid to go anywhere in his operational area. In the book “Herringbone Cloak–GI Dagger: Marines of the OSS” written by LTC Robert Mattingly, perhaps the best version of these events unfolded:

Ortiz, in particular, was fond of going straight into the German-occupied towns. On one occasion, he strolled into a cafe dressed in a long cape. Several Germans were drinking and cursing the maquis. One mentioned the fate which would befall the filthy American swine when he was caught. (The Nazis apparently knew of Ortiz’ existence in the area with the maquis) This proved a great mistake. Captain Ortiz threw back the cape revealing his Marine uniform. In each hand, he held a .45 automatic. When the shooting stopped, there were fewer Nazis to plan his capture and Ortiz was gone into the night.

Operation Union was ended on May 20 and the team exfilled to London. He was then decorated with the first of two Navy Crosses and promoted to Major. Ortiz returned to France on August 1, 1944, the head of a mission entitled UNION II. This OSS mission was no longer a Jedburgh operation but an Operational Group. These were heavily armed teams which were tasked with direct action against the Germans. They were not only to conduct sabotage but they were to also seize key installations to prevent retreating German units from destroying them.

OG members, unlike Jeds, were always in uniform. Along with Ortiz on this mission were Army Air Forces Captain Francis Coolidge, and Marine Gunnery Sergeant Robert La Salle, Sergeants Charles Perry, John P. Bodnar, Frederick J. Brunner, and Jack R. Risler, as well as a Free French officer, Joseph Arcelin, who carried false identification which showed him to be a U.S. Marine.

Things went wrong from the start on the second mission. Perry’s static line snapped causing him to fall to his death on the jump in. The rest of the team buried him on the drop zone. The men were advising the “Bulle” Battalion to support the Allied landings in Southern France. The Army Air Corps dropped 864 bundles of weapons, equipment, and supplies to support the team and their efforts.

The Germans (157th Alpine Division-Reserves) however was on the resistance’s tail almost immediately. On the 14th of August, the Germans shelled the town of Montgirod where they had entered and forced them and the Bulle Battalion into the mountains outside of town. They quickly surrounded them. On the 18th their luck ran out. They ran into a German column of trucks and troops numbering several hundred in the town of Centron.

The Germans kept the men under fire and the fighting was going from house to house. French civilians urged the men to surrender since the Germans had liquidated two entire towns of citizens for reportedly harboring the resistance. Ortiz didn’t want that to happen.

He walked out in full view of the Germans who kicked up the dirt around him with machinegun fire. In perfect German, he asked to speak to the Commander. He agreed to surrender his men if the German officer, a Major Kolb would spare the town any reprisals. Kolb agreed and then he and men were incredulous and then livid when only Bodner and Risler came out. The Germans thought they were in action against a company-sized element, when in fact, the three Marine OSS men held off a battalion.

He spent the rest of the war as a POW but made numerous attempts to escape. His final one in April of 1945 had Ortiz and three others escape and spend 10 days wandering around looking for British Army units. They were starving and eventually went back to their prison of war camp where they were cheered by the other POWs.

On April 29, 1945, the camp was liberated by the 7th Guards Armored Division and the men were returned to Allied control. When he returned to London, Ortiz was given his second Navy Cross. He returned to civilian life and was a technical advisor for Hollywood films. He was good friends with director John Ford and he put Ortiz in several of his films including “Rio Grande” with John Wayne, Maureen O’Hara, and Victor McLaglen. And “Wings of Eagles” also with Wayne and O’Hara.

Peter Ortiz with Maureen O’Hara in Rio Grande

By his own admission, he was a terrible actor but thought that the making of films was a lot of fun. He died of cancer in 1988, the only battle he ever fought and lost.

With the news of last week where certain historians question the legacy of OSS and that of the US Army Special Forces, I wonder if many Marines know the legacy of Peter Ortiz. While so much of the Corps history centers around the island campaigns of WWII, one officer had an incredibly, packed career in just a short amount of time in Europe. And when it comes to Special Operators, he stands among the best.

Photos: National Archives, Republic Pictures

On This Day in 1983, Marine Barracks in Beirut is Truck Bombed

During the Lebanese Civil War of 1983, two suicide trucks laden with explosives are driven into the barracks at Beirut’s airport where the Multi-National Force in Lebanon (MNF) peacekeepers were staying. A total of 307 people are killed. 241 Americans, 58 French, 6 civilians and the two bombers. A terrorist group calling themselves Islamic Jihad claimed responsibility and said that their goal was to drive the MNF out of Lebanon.

This was the single deadliest day in the Marine Corps since the Battle of Iwo Jima and for the U.S. military since the Tet Offensive in Vietnam in 1968. Another 128 were wounded. The blast was the equivalent of an estimated 21,000 pounds of TNT.

The second attack on the French Drakkar barracks occurred just minutes after the attack on the Americans housed the 1st Parachute Chasseur Regiment as well as the 9th Parachute Chasseur Regiment, 58 French paratroopers were killed with another 15 wounded. For the French military, it was their single largest loss of life, since the civil war in Algeria.

Although political leaders stated otherwise publically, these attacks caused the removal of the MNF in Lebanon. They’d been put in place since the PLO was ousted from Lebanese territory in 1982.

U.S. Vice President Mike Pence called the bombings in 2017 “the opening salvo in a war that we have waged ever since—the global war on terror”

Background to the Bombing:

On June 6, 1982, the Israelis invaded Lebanon under the pretext of creating a buffer between the PLO and the Syrian forces inside of Lebanese territory. The Israeli “Operation Galilee” was conducted to create that 40 km of space and had the approval of the United States as well as the democratically elected President, Bachir Gemayel.

However, Gemayel was a part of the Christian Phalangists and the bitter enemy of the Druze and Muslims. The Phalangists attacked a PLO refugee camp and other Muslim and Druze communities while the Israelis turned a blind eye. Gemayel was assassinated in September 1982 by a bomb and was replaced by his brother Amine.

The Muslims of Lebanon, especially the Shiites, resented the MNF peacekeepers believing that the Americans were siding with the Christian Phalangists. They steadily harassed by mortar and artillery fire.

The Americans and French troops were hamstrung by the ridiculous “peacetime” rules of engagement, in the middle of a civil war. Being neutral the U.S. and French had to follow strict guidelines for peacekeepers.

When on a post, mobile or foot patrol, keep a loaded magazine in the weapon, bolt closed, weapon on safe, no round in the chamber.
Do not chamber a round unless instructed to do so by a commissioned officer unless you must act in immediate self-defense where deadly force is authorized.
Keep ammo for crew-served weapons readily available but not loaded in the weapon. Weapons will be on safe at all times.
Call local forces to assist in self-defense effort. Notify headquarters.
Use only the minimum degree of force to accomplish any mission.
Stop the use of force when it is no longer needed to accomplish the mission.
If you receive effective hostile fire, direct your fire at the source. If possible, use friendly snipers.
Respect civilian property; do not attack it unless absolutely necessary to protect friendly forces.
Protect innocent civilians from harm.
Respect and protect recognized medical agencies such as Red Cross, Red Crescent, etc.

In 1982, the Iranians built a base inside of Syrian-controlled territory in Lebanon. That base, opened by the Islamic Revolutionary Guards and housing Hezbollah, is still operational today. Hezbollah was and still is, a proxy for the Iranians who get their orders straight from Tehran.

On September 26, 1983, the NSA intercepted an Iranian diplomatic communications message from the Iranian intelligence agency, the Ministry of Information and Security (MOIS),” to their ambassador, Ali Akbar Mohtashemi, in Damascus, Syria.

The message directed the ambassador to “take spectacular action against the American Marines.” The Marines in Beirut were never notified about the intercepted message in a timely fashion. The government would finally notify the Marine commanders about the intercepted threats on October 26: a full three days after the bombing.

American military commanders and government officials failed to connect the dots that an incident on April 18, 1983, when a suicide bomber had detonated an explosives-laden delivery van outside the U.S. Embassy in Beirut, killing 63 people, including 17 Americans.

Things heated up between June and September with a number of incidents. Druze militias had confrontations with Lebanese Forces in a number of places and shelled the Beirut airport, closing it temporarily. That is where the HQs of the Marine 24th Amphibious Unit (24th MAU) was located.

Sunday, October 23, 1983:

Early on the morning of October 23, just before 6:30 a.m., a 19-ton yellow Mercedes-Benz truck driven by Iranian citizen Ismail Ascari pulled into the Beirut International Airport.

Believing the truck be the water truck, the Marines were expecting, it was instead filled with explosives. The driver accelerated and crashed easily thru the 5-foot barrier of concertina wire, then passed between two sentry posts and through an open gate in the perimeter chain-link fence, crashed through a guard shack in front of the building and smashed into the lobby of the building serving as the barracks for the 1st Battalion 8th Marines.

As the building collapsed upon itself, it immediately crushed to death within the mountain of rubble, 241 U.S. military personnel—220 Marines, 18 Navy sailors, and three Army soldiers.

On the day of the bombing, the Marine sentries were ordered to keep a loaded magazine inserted in their weapon, bolt closed, weapon on safe and no round in the chamber. Only one sentry was actually able to chamber a round in his weapon but by then the truck was already crashing into the building.

As the truck slammed through the entrance and come to a halt in the midst of the lobby, there was an ominous pause of a second or two, then the truck erupted in a massive explosion, lifting the building in the air, shearing off its steel-reinforced concrete support columns (each 15 feet in circumference) and collapsing the structure.

As the building collapsed upon itself, it immediately crushed to death within the mountain of rubble, 241 U.S. military personnel—220 Marines, 18 Navy sailors, and three Army soldiers.

Major Bob Melton the Logistics Officer for the 24th MAU, called to his commander Colonel Tim Geraghty, “My God, the BLT building is gone!” Rabbi Arnold Resnicoff and assistant chaplain for the U.S. Sixth Fleet recalled that “Bodies and pieces of bodies were everywhere. Screams of those injured or trapped were barely audible at first, as our minds struggled to grapple with the reality before us.”

Within 10 minutes of the attack and a few miles north of the airport, another suicide bomber driving a pickup truck targeted the barracks of the 3rd Company of France’s 1st Parachute Chasseur Regiment. Guards immediately recognized the hostile intent of the driver and shot and killed him, stopping the truck 15 yards short of the building. However, either the terrorist or the gunfire initiated the explosive. Though only half as powerful as the bomb that had leveled the Marine compound, the second blast brought down the French barracks, killing 58 paratroopers.

Ironically many of the French troops were standing outside on the balconies of the building, as they had heard what had occurred at the U.S. base just down the coast and were trying to identify what happened there.

Recovery and rescue efforts began immediately. U.S. troops were harassed by intermittent sniper and artillery fire from Druze units. The last survivor, LTJG Danny Wheeler a Chaplain for the 1/8th Marines was pulled out of the rubble late that night. While others survived the blast, by the time they were rescued, they would succumb to their injuries.

The French immediately launched an airstrike in the Beqaa Valley against Iranian Revolutionary Guard units. The U.S. planned a massive strike in conjunction with the French at the Sheik Abdullah barracks in Baalbek, Lebanon, which housed Iran’s IRGC and was believed to be training Hezbollah militants. But the attack was called off when US Defense Secretary Casper Weinberger lobbied against it, because, at the time there was no definitive proof Iran was behind the attack.

The U.S. would leave in February of 1984, as the Marines departed on board ships, the battleship New Jersey, firing her 16-inch guns pounded Druze and Syrian artillery and missile positions in the Beqaa Valley. The Syrian commander in Lebanon was killed during the nine-hour bombardment of nearly 300 shells. Lebanese civilians would later remark on the bombardment of Volkswagen-sized artillery shells and long bombardment.

The U.S. learned a valuable and costly lesson in Beirut and would not deploy troops again with inadequate means to defend themselves.

Photos: DOD

Flag Raising on Mount Suribachi, One of America’s Iconic Moments

On February 23, 1945, World War II was raging across the globe. In Europe, brutal fighting continued as Germany was being squeezed from two sides by the American and British in the west and the Russians in the east. In the Pacific, the Japanese were putting up fanatical resistance in the Philippines and on a tiny volcanic speck in the Pacific called Iwo Jima, the fight for just an eight-square-mile speck of land was the scene of some of the bloodiest fighting of the war.

The tiny island was of vital strategic importance, as the Japanese used its three airfields to attack U.S. B-29 bombers that were bombing mainland Japan as well as an early warning station. If the U.S. could secure the island, bombers crippled on their way back to Tinian island would have a safe place to land.

The island was dominated by a large dormant volcano 546 feet in height on the southern half that towered over the rest of the island. It was called Mount Suribachi. The Japanese constructed a maze of tunnels and bunkers on the island and their artillery was pinpointed by spotters on Suribachi. On the morning of February 23, about 40 U.S. Marines fought their way to the top and raised a flag around 10:20 in the morning, four days after coming ashore. It became one of the most well-known photographs of the US military.

First Lieutenant Harold G. Schrier, executive officer of Easy Company, 2nd Battalion, 28th Marine Regiment, 5th Marine Division and assisted by Platoon Sergeant Ernest Thomas and Sergeant Oliver Hansen raised the flag. The sight caused the ships in the fleet to blow their horns and the troops below to bellow out with cheers.

The din caused the Japanese troops, who had been holed up in their caves under a bombardment, to come out to investigate. They began attacking the Marines but were quickly neutralized. Schrier was awarded the Navy Cross for leading the attack up Suribachi that morning. Later in March, he would also be awarded the Silver Star for heroism on Iwo.

Schrier’s men were photographed during the first flag raising on Suribachi by Staff Sergeant Louis R. Lowery of Leatherneck magazine. The men were also assisted by Corporal Charles W. Lindberg, Privates First Class James Michels and Raymond Jacobs, Private Phil Ward, and Navy corpsman John Bradley. The flag, however, was too small to be seen by the men on the northern slope of Suribachi.

The Secretary of the Navy, James Forrestal, who witnessed the flag raising from the ships below, decided that he wanted the flag as a souvenir. The 2nd Bn. Commander, LTC Chandler Johnson wasn’t happy to hear that. He wanted the flag as a souvenir for the unit. He directed his Asst. Operations Officer, 1LT Ted Tuttle to go to the beach and find a replacement flag. And he instructed him to make it a bigger one. Tuttle went to LST-779 (Landing Ship Tank) where he procured a 96” x 56” flag and returned to the HQs. Johnson gave the flag to PFC Rene Gagnon with orders to give it to Schrier and raise the replacement flag.

Johnson then sent Sergeant Michael Strank, one of Second Platoon’s squad leaders, was to take three members of his rifle squad (CPL Harlon H. Block and PFCs Franklin R. Sousley and Ira H. Hayes) and climb up Mount Suribachi for the replacement flag raise on top; the three took supplies or laid telephone wire on the way up to the top. Gagnon, the battalion runner (messenger) for Easy Company, also carried fresh SCR-300 walkie-talkie batteries to take to the top.

Photographers Joe Rosenthal and Sergeant Bill Genaust were climbing the hill and met Lowery coming down. They considered turning around but Lowery insisted the view was spectacular for taking photos. They met Strank and his three men who had climbed Suribachi without incident. Just as the photographers arrived at the summit, the Marines under Strank were finishing attaching the new flag to a hunk of old Japanese water pipe.

Rosenthal was piling rocks to stand on when he nearly missed the picture of a lifetime. With no time to look thru the viewfinder, Rosenthal took a snap photo and had no idea whether he captured the moment or not. Several years later he wrote, “Out of the corner of my eye, I had seen the men start the flag up. I swung my camera and shot the scene. That is how the picture was taken, and when you take a picture like that, you don’t come away saying you got a great shot. You don’t know.”

Sergeant Genaust, was standing right beside Rosenthal and was shooting movie film and captured the moment perfectly as well. His film footage was later shown in newsreels.

Tragically, of the six flag-raisers in the picture – Ira Hayes, Harold Schultz, Michael Strank, Franklin Sousley, Rene Gagnon, and Harlon Block – only Hayes, Gagnon, and Schultz survived the battle. Strank and Block were killed by an artillery round six days later. Sousley was shot and killed by a Japanese sniper on March 21, just a few days before the island was considered secure. Genaust was also killed in action a few days after the flag raising.

Rosenthal sent his film to Guam to be processed. Once there an editor who saw it immediately recognized the significance of the shot and wired it to the AP office in NYC. Seventeen hours after Rosenthal took the shot, it was everywhere, or in today’s parlance, his picture went viral.

Because of the confusion about the second flag raising, reports began circulating that the photo taken by Rosenthal was staged. Nothing could be further from the truth. As Genaust’s film shows, the events happened quickly and were in no way staged. But the rumors persisted for years.

Unfortunately, the members of the first flag raising crew have never gotten their proper due and many were called liars if they stated that they had indeed raised the flag over Suribachi.

Both flags now permanently reside in the Museum of the Marine Corps in Triangle, Virginia, right outside Quantico.

Rosenthal’s iconic picture was awarded a Pulitzer Prize in 1945, the only such time an award was granted the same year as the picture was taken. It remains one of the most recognizable icons of the American military in our history. The photo was later recreated by sculptor Felix de Weldon who designed the Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington, VA.

The three surviving members went on a Bond selling tour and were featured in a cameo at the end of the 1949 John Wayne classic, “The Sands of Iwo Jima”

Photos: US Archives