Shadow of Suribachi

The men are, from left to right, Ira Hayes, Harold Henry Schultz, Michael Strank, Franklin Sousley, Harold 'Pie' Keller and Harlon Block. Keller was confirmed in 2019, while Schultz was confirmed in 2016.

Shadow of Suribachi: Raising The Flags on Iwo Jima (1995) is a book released during the 50th anniversary of the flag-raising(s) atop Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima during World War II which was written by Parker Bishop Albee, Jr. and Keller Cushing Freeman. The book mainly examines the controversy over the identification of the flag-raiser who was positioned at the base of the flagpole in Joe Rosenthal’s Raising the Flag on Iwo Jima photograph of the second flag-raising on February 23, 1945.

Overview

Though the authors cover and debunk the various staging myths that have haunted the famous photograph of six men (three were later killed in action after the flag was raised) raising the flag, much of the book is devoted to the story of Sergeant Hank Hansen who was first identified and believed to be in Rosenthal’s famous photograph which became the model for the Marine Corps War Memorial that was completed in 1954. Hansen was a member of the 40-man combat patrol mostly from Third Platoon, E Company, 28th Marines, that climbed up Mount Suribachi and raised the first of two flags atop Mount Suribachi on February 23, 1945. After the battle of Iwo Jima, Hansen (killed in action on March 1) was incorrectly identified as a flag-raiser in the photograph by E Company’s runner (messenger) during the battle, Rene Gagnon, who helped raise the second flag. E Company’s Third Platoon corpsman, John Bradley (incorrectly named a second flag-raiser), also misidentified Hansen as a second flag-raiser. Marine Ira Hayes was the only second flag-raiser (Gagnon, Hayes, and Block were not members of the 40-man patrol) who correctly said the person in the photograph thought to be Hansen was really Corporal Harlon Block. Block was not officially recognized as a second flag-raiser until January 1947.

Ira Hayes Questions Misidentification

Recounted is the story of how Ira Hayes (a surviving second-flag-raiser named by Gagnon) knew that it was actually Corporal Harlon Block and not Hansen in Rosenthal’s photograph (Block and Hansen were both killed in action on Iwo Jima, on March 1, 1945), and tried to bring the “error” to the attention of the Marine Corps lieutenant colonel who was interviewing him about the flag-raising in April 1945 (same person interviewed Gagnon on April 7, and days later, Bradley), in Washington, D.C., before the May 11, 7th War Loan drive (7th bond selling tour; Gagnon, Hayes, and Bradley were to take the actual second-flag with them to 33 U.S. cities across America to sell bonds to help pay for the war) but was told that since both Hansen and Block names were already released publicly as being flag-raisers in the photograph by the Marine Corps (on April 8) and since both were deceased, he should let it go (Hayes was ordered back to E Company in Hawaii on April 24 and left April 25 before the bond tour ended on July 4). Their story differs from that of most Hayes biographers as they transcribe a letter which Hayes wrote to Belle Block (Harlon’s mother) on July 12, 1946, confirming it was her son Harlon in the photograph (after she first wrote to him). The authors’ do not mention the “hitchhiking to Texas to tell them the truth” story.

After Belle Block sent Hayes’ letter to her congressman through Mr. Block in September 1946, the congressman wrote the Marine Corps asking them to look into the matter. Hayes (second flag-raisers Hayes, Block, Michael Strank, and Franklin Sousley were members of Second Platoon, E Company) gave an affidavit listing the names of the six flag-raisers (including Bradley) in the photograph to the Marine Corps during their investigation the following December (began on December 4) into the identities of the six flag-raisers in Rosenthal’s photograph, stating on the record that it was actually Block and not Hansen in the photograph, and pointed out several significant uniform discrepancies between the figure in the famous photograph and that of Hansen in photographs taken earlier that day and in Rosenthal’s “Gung Ho” photograph of several Marines (sixteen Marines and two corpsmen) including Hansen (wearing his cap and parachutist boots) under the second flag/flagstaff taken only moments after the second flag-raising.

Before seeing Hayes’ hand-written notes and identifications on the photographs, both Gagnon and Bradley sent notarized statements reaffirming their earlier identification of Hansen. After being shown Hayes’ material, Bradley wrote a letter to the investigators which he ended by saying, “...it could be Block.” Hayes’ material and Bradley’s letter were then sent to Gagnon, who, according to this book, gave in and acquiesced in a letter, the first paragraph of which was copied word-for-word from Bradley’s.

Conclusion

On January 15, 1947, the Marine Corps appointed investigating board found that the figure at the base of the flagpole in the photograph had been “incorrectly identified since April 8, 1945, as being Sergeant Henry O. Hansen.” Furthermore, they stated that “to the best of the ability of the Board to determine at this time, the above-mentioned figure is that of Corporal Harlan [sic] H. Block.”

Albee and Freeman conclude that it is ultimately impossible to tell, based only on the photographic evidence, who is at the base of the flagpole.

References

USMC Statement on Marine Corps Flag Raisers, Office of U.S. Marine Corps Communication, 23 June 2016

Shadow of Suribachi: Raising The Flags on Iwo Jima. Parker Bishop Albee, Jr. and Keller Cushing Freman. 1995. Praeger Publishers.

Survivors of Iwo Jima flag raising at unveiling of statue in New York, May 11, 1945. Joe Rosenthal’s iconic photograph made them celebrities at the War Bond rallies. L-R Rene Gagnon, John H. Bradley, and Ira H. Hayes. 

Hayes, Bradley and Gagnon with the flag, New York, May 11, 1945. 

Bradley in the White House stands next to a War Bond drive poster depicting the flag raising, May 11, 1945. 

Marine Private First Class Ira Hayes points himself out in the historic picture of the flag raising on Mount Suribachi, Iwo Jima. 

From left, Marine Private First Class Rene Gagnon, Pharmacist's Mate Second Class John H. Bradley, and Marine Private First Class Ira Hayes stand together as they look at a War Loan poster, which features an illustration of their likeness based on Joe Rosenthal's photograph of them and their comrades as they raise an American flag on Iwo Jima's Mt. Suribachi. 

From left, Marine Private Ira Hayes, Pharmacist Mate 2nd Class John H Bradley, US Secretary of the Navy James V Forrestal, and Marine Private Rene Gagnon, hoist a flag at the US Capitol. The Marines had been present at the historic Iwo Jima flag-raising on Iwo Jima. Here, they hoist that same flag in May 1945. 

John H. Bradley, left, Ira Hayes, middle and Rene Gagnon, right, are pictured at a memorial service after the war. Bradley and Gagnon were both thought to have been in the historical Iwo Jima photograph, but that has now proven to be false.

It appears that it was Corporal Harold 'Pie' Keller who was among the six men featured in the iconic photo, although he never mentioned it to his children. 

Marine Lt. Col. E.R. Hagenah, right, presents a bronze statue modeled after Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal’s picture of Marines raising the American Flag on Mt. Suribachi in Iwo Jima to Pres. Harry Truman, left, at the White House, June 4, 1945, Washington, D.C. Rosenthal is third from right and Felix de Weldon, sculpture of the statue, is at second from left. 

Pima Indian survivor of the Mt. Suribachi Flag-raising and Indian veteran of Bataan Death March with Los Angeles Mayor Fletcher Bowron Published caption: HEROES: Ira Hayes, left, a Pima Indian survivor of the Mt. Suribachi Flag-raising, and Sgt. Henry Reed, Indian veteran of Bataan Death March, call on Mayor Bowron. They are here on a trip to protest court rulings discriminating against their race in housing. 23 March 1947. 

Poster for the Seventh War Loan Drive (May 14–June 30, 1945). 

Seventh War Loan poster. 

The statue was nine years in the making. It was modeled after the photograph snapped by Joe Rosenthal, then with the Associated Press, on the morning of February 23, 1945. Rosenthal was in the Pacific on assignment with the wartime picture pool. Almost immediately upon release of the picture which soon won world-wide fame, Feliz De Welden, an internationally known sculptor on duty with the Navy, constructed a scale model of the scene. A life-sized plaster model followed. Heroic sized heads of the six Marines who participated in the flag-raising were then modeled in clay, over steel framework. Legs, arms, hands and shoes, in plaster, were added. The completed plaster model of the entire group in heroic size was cut into 108 pieces, then cast in bronze and welded together at the Bedi-Rassy Art Foundry in Brooklyn. Three trucks were needed to haul the statue to Washington for final assembling. Various stages in the making of the giant memorial are pictured on October 9, 1954. 

Felix W. DeWeldon, sculptor of the famous Marine Corps Memorial is shown putting finishing touches on the plaster model, prior to its being cut into sections for bronze casting.

Felix W. DeWeldon, sculptor of the famous Marine Corps Memorial is shown putting finishing touches on the plaster model, prior to its being cut into sections for bronze casting.

Felix W. DeWeldon, sculptor of the famous Marine Corps Memorial is shown putting finishing touches on the plaster model, prior to its being cut into sections for bronze casting.

Felix W. DeWeldon, sculptor of the famous Marine Corps Memorial is shown putting finishing touches on the plaster model, prior to its being cut into sections for bronze casting.

Felix W. DeWeldon, sculptor of the famous Marine Corps Memorial is shown putting finishing touches on the plaster model, prior to its being cut into sections for bronze casting.

Felix W. DeWeldon, sculptor of the famous Marine Corps Memorial is shown putting finishing touches on the plaster model, prior to its being cut into sections for bronze casting.

Felix W. DeWeldon, sculptor of the famous Marine Corps Memorial is shown putting finishing touches on the plaster model, prior to its being cut into sections for bronze casting. 

Assembly work started September 13, 1954 on the huge Iwo Jima monument, depicting the raising of the flag on Mt. Suribachi, on a Virginia bluff overlooking the Potomac River across from the nation’s Capital. The heavy bronze statue, based on the celebrated photograph by the AP’s Joe Rosenthal, will stand on a bluff near Arlington National Cemetery. 

The Marine Band parades past the Marine Corps War Memorial – a study in bronze of the Iwo Jima Flag raising on during a memorial to Marine dead in connection with a reunion of Veterans of four Marine divisions. The Marine Corps War Memorial is seen in Arlington, Virginia. Joe Rosenthal, the Associated Press photographer who won a Pulitzer Prize for his immortal image of World War II servicemen raising an American flag over battle-scarred Iwo Jima. Rosenthal’s iconic photo, shot on February 23, 1945, became the model for the Iwo Jima Memorial near Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia. 

Mothers of two Marines who lost their lives after helping to raise the flag on Mt. Suribachi pose with three survivors and Vice President Nixon in front of the Iwo Jima monument, November 10, 1954 at the dedication ceremony in Washington. From left to right: John H. Bradley of Wisconsin; Goldie Price of Kentucky, mother of the late Pfc. Franklin R. Sousley; Nixon; Belle Block of Texas, mother of the late Cpl. Harlon H. Block; Pfc. Rene A. Gagnon of New Hampshire; and Pfc. Ira Hayes of Arizona. 

United States Marine Corps War Memorial by Felix de Weldon at night in Arlington, Virginia. 

Rene Gagnon comforts Nancy Hayes after the burial of her son Ira, one of the Iwo Jima flag-raisers, in Arlington National Cemetery, February 2, 1955. Gagnon and Hayes were among six Marines who raised the flag atop Mt. Suribachi in 1945. Hayes, a Pima Indian, died of exposure last week on the reservation where he lived in Arizona. 

Rene Gagnon hands a stone from Mt. Suribachi on Iwo Jima to widow of Japanese Lt. Gen. Tadamichi Kuribayashi, in Tokyo, Japan, February 25, 1965. Lt. Gen. Kuribayashi committed suicide on the Island after the Japanese were defeated at Iwo Jima. At the time, Gagnon was believed to be one of six U.S. Marines in flag-raising picture on the Pacific Island. From left at presentation in Tokyo are: Taro Kuribayashi, the general's son; a marine interpreter; Mrs. Yoshii Kuribayashi, Gagnon; his wife, and Rene Gagnon, Jr. 

Iwo Jima 20th Anniversary Ceremonies, 1965. 

General Wallace M. Greene, Jr., Commandant of the Marine Corps and General Holland M. Smith at the 20th Anniversary ceremonies for the battle of Iwo Jima in 1965. 

General Wallace M. Greene, Jr., Commandant of the Marine Corps and General Holland M. Smith at the 20th Anniversary ceremonies for the battle of Iwo Jima in 1965. 

Iwo Jima 20th Anniversary Ceremonies. Marine Corps wreath layers bow their heads during prayer at ceremonies commemorating the 20th anniversary of the landing at Iwo Jima in World War II. Left to right: General Wallace M. Greene, Jr., Commandant of the Marine Corps; General Holland M. Smith, USMC (Retired); Colonel Robert B. Carney; and the Lieutenant General Officer, Marine Barracks, 8th and Eye Streets, S.E. 

Iwo Jima 20th Anniversary Ceremony, 1965. General Wallace M. Greene, Jr., Commandant of the Marine Corps; General Holland M. Smith; Colonel Robert B. Carney; and the Lieutenant General Officer, Marine Barracks, 8th and Eye Streets, S.E. 

Iwo Jima 20th Anniversary Ceremony, 1965. General Wallace M. Greene, Jr., Commandant of the Marine Corps and General Holland M. Smith. 

Iwo Jima 20th Anniversary Ceremony. Marine Commandant, General Wallace M. Greene, Jr., General Holland M. Smith, USMC (Retired) and Colonel Robert B. Carney, Jr., receive the review during ceremonies marking the 20th anniversary of the landing in World War II. 

Holland Smith and a Priest at Marine Corps Memorial, Arlington, Virginia, n.d. 

Rene Gagnon, Holland Smith, Graves Erskine, and Constance Erskine, Cape Coral, Florida, circa 1960s. 

Starting third from left: Rene Gagnon, Holland Smith, Graves Erskine, Cape Coral, Florida, circa 1960s.

 

Examining the Evidence: USMC Reviews Iwo Jima Flag-Raising Photo

Positions of flag raisers with second flag raising on Iwo Jima, 23 February 1945.

by Col. Mary H. Reinwald, USMC (Ret)

A simple click of a camera’s shutter, and a small moment in Marine Corps history is preserved. Just one moment in the millions during the incredible battle for the small island of Iwo Jima. Circumstances, however, made this moment very different; the photograph took on a life of its own, and its subjects were immortalized. The time, place and dire straits in which the free world found itself contributed to the popularity of the photograph. The country, after several years in a cataclysmic two front war, was desperate for something positive. The photograph embodied so much for the American people. The men in the picture, regardless of what else they had done on Iwo Jima or in other battles throughout the Pacific, were viewed as heroes not just for raising a flag, but for raising the spirits of a nation.

But what if the men weren’t who we thought they were? What if a mistake, however inadvertent, was made?

On Nov. 23, 2014, the Omaha World-Herald published a story entitled “New Mystery Arises From Iconic Iwo Jima Image.” The story detailed the efforts of two history buffs, Stephen Foley and Eric Krelle, to prove that Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class John H. Bradley, the corpsman who was awarded the Navy Cross for his actions in the initial days of fighting during the Battle of Iwo Jima, is not in Joe Rosenthal’s iconic photograph of the flag raising on Feb. 23, 1945, as had been believed for almost 70 years. They presented substantial evidence that a mistake may have been made, and other media outlets began to express interest. The Marine Corps was notified of the new evidence, and after an initial review, a decision was made to do a more thorough analysis.

At the direction of the Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Robert B. Neller, a panel was convened to “accurately identify and appropriately credit” the flag raisers seen in the Rosenthal photo. On April 22, 2016, the panel, made up of both active-duty and retired Marines, as well as civilian historians, assembled at the General Alfred M. Gray Marine Corps Research Center at Marine Corps Base Quantico, Va., to review the newly discovered evidence and existing photographs, eyewitness statements, and a film shot during the flag raisings. The results of the board and its recommendations were briefed to Gen Neller on May 4, 2016. Lieutenant General Jan C. Huly, USMC (Ret), a former Deputy Commandant for Plans, Policies and Operations, served as president of the panel.

Background

U.S. forces landed on Iwo Jima on Feb. 19, 1945, and four long days later, the commanding officer of 2d Battalion, 28th Marine Regiment, Lieutenant Colonel Chandler W. Johnson, sent a patrol to secure Mount Suribachi. Sergeant Henry O. Hansen and PhM2c John H. Bradley were part of the patrol headed by First Lieutenant Harold G. Schrier, the executive officer of Company E. Private First Class Harold H. Schultz also was a member of the patrol. An American flag was raised that morning at approximately 1020. Staff Sergeant Louis R. “Lou” Lowery, photographer for Leatherneck, captured the first flag raising on film, and it is clear that PhM2c Bradley participated in the first flag raising.

A few hours later, a resupply patrol, tasked with replacing the first flag with a larger one, was sent to the top of Suribachi. Sgt Michael Strank, Corporal Harlon H. Block, PFC Ira H. Hayes and PFC Franklin R. Sousley were members of the resupply patrol; Joe Rosenthal, an Associated Press photographer, joined them as they made their way up the mountain. Sgt William H. Genaust and PFC Robert R. Campbell, Fifth Marine Division combat correspondents, also accompanied the patrol.

The second flag was raised at approximately 1220 as the first flag was lowered. Sgt Genaust filmed the preparation and raising of the second flag, but there is a break of undetermined length in his film between the flag raisers holding the flag in a horizontal position and later starting to lift the flag. PFC Campbell photographed the first flag as it was lowered. Joe Rosenthal photographed the second flag raising, and one of his shots became the iconic photo.

The fighting on Iwo Jima took a huge toll on the Marines involved in the second f lag raising. Both Cpl Block and Sgt Strank were killed in action on March 1, as was Sgt Hansen. PhM2c Bradley was wounded on March 12 and evacuated the next day. PFC Sousley was killed on March 21.

When Rosenthal’s photograph was sent back to the States, the sensation it created led to a decision to bring the flag raisers home to take part in a war bond tour. PFC Rene A. Gagnon returned to the United States in April 1945 and identified the flag raisers as Sgt Hansen, PhM2c Bradley, Sgt Strank, PFC Sousley, PFC Hayes and himself. Bradley and Hayes also were brought to Washington, D.C., that month, and they confirmed Gagnon’s identification of the flag raisers.

In July 1946, however, in response to a letter from the mother of PFC Harlon Block, Ira Hayes admitted that Block, not Hansen, was the Marine in Position #1 in the Rosenthal photo. A board was convened at Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps in December 1946 with Major General Pedro A. del Valle as the president tasked with determining the participants of the flag raising, specifically the individual in Position #1, as depicted in the Rosenthal photo.

The del Valle board released its findings in January 1947. The opinion of the board was that Cpl Harlon H. Block (Position #1), PFC Rene A. Gagnon (Position #2), PhM2c John H. Bradley (Position #3), Sgt Michael Strank (Position #4), PFC Franklin R. Sousley (Position #5) and PFC Ira H. Hayes (Position #6) raised the second flag on Mount Suribachi. The Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Alexander A. Vandegrift, approved the board’s results.

The Huly Panel

The Huly panel reviewed the results of the del Valle board, scrutinizing each individual in the Rosenthal photo, in keeping with the Commandant’s direction. The results of the Huly panel, however, differed from the results of the board from 70 years ago.

Position #1: Cpl Harlon Block

No new evidence or recent allegations contradicted Block being the man in Position #1. A comparison of photos taken by Joe Rosenthal throughout the actual flag raising with the film shot by Sgt Genaust shows the person in Position #1 with equipment and a facial profile consistent with Block. Coupled with Hayes’ identification of Block as a flag raiser in 1946 and confirmation by the del Valle board, no evidence suggests that Block is not the Marine in Position #1.

Position #2: PFC Rene A. Gagnon

Similar to Block’s identification, no new evidence has called into question Gagnon’s identification as the second flag raiser. Upon his return to the States in 1945, Gagnon identified himself as the Marine in Position #2; this identification was later corroborated by both Bradley and Hayes. Although his face is obscured throughout most of the film and photographs, a brief glimpse appears to be Gagnon, and the gear he wore in other clearly identifiable photos is consistent with the gear worn by the Marine in Position #2. As did the del Valle board, the Huly panel continues to believe that Gagnon helped to raise the second flag.

Position #3: PhM2c John Bradley to PFC Franklin Sousley

In addition to Gagnon’s initial identification of Bradley as the individual in Position #3, Bradley himself confirmed this according to a memo to the Director, Division of Public Information, Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps dated Sept. 24, 1946, from LtCol E.R. Hagenah, USMC, written for the del Valle board. In his own letter to Gen del Valle, dated Dec. 26, 1946, Bradley stated, “I was on top of the hill already and when the flag was raised I just jumped up and gave the group a hand.” In a letter to the same board dated 16 Dec. 1946, the Co E commander, Captain Dave Severance, also agreed that, to the best of his knowledge, Bradley was one of the flag raisers. The photographic evidence, however, does not support this.

As seen in both the Genaust film and other photographs taken atop Mount Suribachi, the individual in Position #3 is wearing an empty canteen cover, cartridge belt without suspenders, wire cutters, and a soft cover under his helmet; he is not carrying a rifle nor wearing a field jacket. Additionally, his trousers are not cuffed. The Suribachi photographs, including Rosenthal’s famous “Gung Ho” photo, also show Bradley without an empty canteen cover, wire cutters, or a soft cover under his helmet. The photos do show Bradley wearing a field jacket, with two medical unit 3s, a first aid pack, a K-bar, a full canteen cover and suspenders evident. Additionally, his trousers are cuffed, and he is wearing leggings.

If Bradley is not in Position #3, then who is? Surprisingly, determining the individual in Position #3 was relatively easy after closely analyzing photographs for specific equipment and gear. PFC Sousley, originally identified as the Marine in Position #5, is seen in photographs atop Suribachi wearing an empty canteen cover, a cartridge belt without suspenders, wire cutters, and a soft cover under his helmet. He is not seen wearing a field jacket, and his trousers are not cuffed— his gear is identical to the gear worn by the individual in Position #3. In addition, there is a moment in the Genaust film and in a Rosenthal photo where the face of the individual is seen briefly. The individual resembles Sousley. In the Huly panel’s opinion, Sousley was in Position #3, not Position #5, in Rosenthal’s photo.

Position #4: Sgt Michael Strank

As was the case with Block and Gagnon, no new evidence was discovered to call into question Strank’s participation in the second flag raising. Although the del Valle board determined that the individual in Position #4 was Sgt Strank, the Huly panel worked to confirm this since Position #4 was the most obscured in both the photo and the film. But it was both the film and the Rosenthal photos that once again helped to confirm what was already known.

The Huly panel, after thorough review, ruled out the possibility that the obscured individual in Position #4 could have been Bradley. The individual in Position #4 is not wearing medical unit 3s or any of the other gear that Bradley was. Before the break in the Genaust film, it appears #4 was wearing a soft cover; after the break, however, the individual appears to be wearing a hard cover. The clarity of the film is such that it is not absolute, but one thing is certain based on other photographic evidence—Bradley only wore a helmet. Strank, however, is seen wearing a soft cover beneath his helmet in several photographs.

In addition, in the Genaust film, the ring finger on the left hand of the individual in Position #4 is evident; the finger is bare. Photos clearly identifiable as Strank show that he was not wearing a ring on that finger. Bradley’s left hand, however, clearly shows a ring on his ring finger in photos.

Position #5: PFC Franklin Sousley to PFC Harold Schultz

But if Sousley is in Position #3, who’s in Position #5? The equipment, or lack thereof, indicates that it can’t be Bradley. Again, Genaust’s film and the photos taken by Lowery, Campbell and Rosenthal were thoroughly reviewed and a key piece of evidence helped to greatly simplify the identity—a broken helmet liner strap.

Only one Marine photographed on that fateful day on Mount Suribachi had a broken helmet liner strap hanging from the left side of his helmet, and that was PFC Harold H. Schultz, another member of Co E. And, as importantly, the individual in Position #5 had a distinctive rifle. The sling of #5’s rifle was attached to the stacking swivel—not to the upper hand guard sling swivel as was appropriate. Again, photos show that the only Marine with his sling attached in that manner was PFC Schultz.

However, and so very puzzling, no previous identification or claim that PFC Schultz was a flag raiser has ever been found.

Position #6: PFC Hayes

The easiest of all to identify. In addition to Gagnon and Bradley identifying Hayes from the beginning, Hayes himself admitted that he was a flag raiser, and the photographic evidence strongly supports these claims.

Questions Remain

While the Huly panel’s results may be correct, further forensic analysis is needed, and given today’s technology, entirely possible. Gen Neller has directed that such analysis be conducted in the hopes that the flag raisers’ identities can be confirmed with as much certainty as possible.

Regardless of the outcome, other questions remain. Why weren’t the flag raisers identified clearly from the beginning? Why did John Bradley, Ira Hayes and Rene Gagnon identify Bradley as the individual in Position #3? Why didn’t Hayes or even Bradley correct the record when the Hansen-Block mistake came to light in 1946? Why did it take well into the 21st century for someone to conduct a forensic analysis of the photo? Why did no one notice the absence of a corpsman’s gear on anyone depicted in the photograph and the memorial? And perhaps most puzzling, why did Schultz never say anything?

Seventy years later, and with few survivors left who served on Iwo Jima, the questions may never be completely answered, but there are some plausible explanations as to why a mistake of this magnitude was made.

First, and perhaps most importantly, no one at the time could have anticipated the impact of that one photo. Even Rosenthal initially had no idea what he had captured.

In addition, to everyone present on Mount Suribachi that day, the second flag raising was not necessarily memorable. When the first flag was raised, shouts and celebrations were heard from the Marines on the beach as ships in the surrounding waters sounded their horns. Little attention was paid to the second flag as it went up. Even Lt Schrier, the patrol leader, wasn’t looking. In his own words, “At the time the picture was taken, I was busy taking down the original flag, and cannot definitely identify any member [of the second flag raising].”

A third significant factor adding to the confusion surrounding the identities is that the battle for the island of Iwo Jima raged for weeks after the flag raising. The flag went up and the Marines continued the fight. And the fight was a costly one; by the time Iwo Jima was secured, 5,931 Marines had been killed in action and another 17,372 were wounded. The dead included four of the Marines identified as flag raisers (Strank, Sousley, Block and Hansen). Bradley was among the seriously wounded; only Gagnon and Hayes emerged from their time on Iwo Jima physically unscathed.

And there may have been another reason, one that creates a disturbing picture of what happened when the surviving flag raisers returned to Washington, D.C. From the letter Ira Hayes wrote to Harlon Block’s mother in 1946: “I tried my darnedest to stay overseas but couldn’t, all because they had a man in there that really wasn’t, and beside [sic] that had Sousley and myself switched around. And when I did arrive in Washington, D.C. I tried to set things right but some colonel told me to not say another word as two men were dead, meaning Harlon and Hansen. And besides the public knew who was who in the picture at the time I didn’t want no last minute commotion.” After the initial identification was made, right or wrong, were the remaining three under pressure not to make waves?

Perhaps the biggest mystery of all, if it is PFC Harold Schultz in Position #5 as the evidence indicates, why didn’t he ever say anything? There is no record of any claims made or even any letters he may have sent saying he was a flag raiser. From what little is known about him, Schultz was a solitary man both in the Corps and in civilian life. He didn’t marry until he was in his 60s and, even then, only briefly mentioned the flag raising to his new family. After Schultz died, his stepdaughter found a copy of Rosenthal’s “Gung Ho” photograph in his desk drawer. Schultz had written his name and the names of other Marines on the back. He made no mention of the flag raising.

Ironically, the significance of Rosenthal’s photo and the Marine Corps War Memorial that it inspired is not who raised the flag, but rather who and what they represented. While the desire to correct the historical record is both understandable and necessary, that moment on top of Mount Suribachi more than 70 years ago will still hold a special place in the hearts of Marines and in the history of the Corps, regardless of who raised the flag.

  

Cpl Harlon H. Block.

PFC Rene A. Gagnon. On October 16, 2019, the Marine Corps announced publicly that Corporal Harold Keller was actually the flag raiser thought to have been Gagnon.

Michael Strank, U.S. Marine Corps in 1939.

Sousley in 1944.

Marine Corps recruit photo of Hayes in 1942.

Pfc. Ira H. Hayes, a Pima, at age 19, ready to jump, Marine Corps Paratroop School, Camp Gillespie, 1942.

PFC Harold Schultz was not recognized as one of the six second flag raisers until the Marine Corps announced on June 23, 2016, that he was in the historic photograph which was taken by combat photographer Joe Rosenthal of the Associated Press. The Marine Corps also stated that Schultz was incorrectly identified as Private First Class Franklin Sousley in the photograph who was incorrectly identified as Navy corpsman John Bradley, who is not in the photograph. Schultz is the second of three Marines in the photograph who were not originally identified as flag raisers.

Another View of the Iwo Jima Flag Raisings

Robert Sherrod, TIME Magazine War Correspondent. Pacific Theater: Attu, Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima, Okinawa.

by Robert L. Sherrod

For what it is worth, here is the way it looked to me. I set foot on Iwo’s coarse, black sand late on the afternoon of D-Day, 19 February 1945, with fifteen officers and men of the 24th Marines, 4th Division, the senior of whom was Lieutenant Colonel Austin R. Brunelli, the regimental executive officer. Of our LCVP load, incidentally, only one was killed and one wounded during the twenty-six-day Iwo battle, which must have been the lowest casualty rate for any unit of any description.

I spent two days on that very hot beachhead, then I walked back to the water line to catch a boat back to my transport, the Bayfield, where I would write stories about the battle’s bloody beginning.

On 23 February, after two days on board the Bayfield, I was ready—and moderately willing—to go ashore again. This time I hitched a ride with the 4th Division commander, Major General Clifton B. Cates, in an LSM; the surf had become so heavy an LCVP could not penetrate to the beach. Soon after our craft was underway I recall that a photographer took a picture of the general and me. Just then we spotted a flag flying atop Mount Suribachi, which I recorded in the pocket notebook I always carried: “Approaching control boat. Can see troops standing on Suribachi and flag flying.” The time was 1140; I thought the flag had just been raised but others say it went up at 1030. General Cates looked at the flag and said, curiously, “I’m glad—Keller Rockey [the 5th Marine Division commander] is a fine fellow”—as though he believed the capture of Suribachi signaled the end of the battle, and he had missed it.

It was 1230 before General Cates and I got ashore on Yellow Beach 1. I left Cates because I had already spent two days with his division, and I wanted to see how the Fifth was getting along (the three division command posts—the Third was also beginning to land now—were within spitting distance of each other anyway). The V Marine Amphibious Corps commander, Major General Harry Schmidt, had also come ashore by now and was conferring with General Rockey at his command post (CP).

The executive officer of the 28th Marines, Lieutenant Colonel Robert H. Williams, came in to brief the generals on conditions on the southern end of the island. They congratulated Williams on the capture of Suribachi. “It wasn’t so tough,” he said, “there wasn’t a great deal of opposition after we got past the guns at the base of the mountain.” He lamented the shortage of prisoners; the 28th had captured only two, both badly wounded.

When I continued walking toward Suribachi I stopped at the command post of Col. Harry (“The Horse”) Liversedge, the tall, Lincolnesque commander of the 28th, who said his men tried hard to capture prisoners: “Before we blow a cave we give them a chance. We send an interpreter up to the cave and he tells the Japs they’ll be well treated if they surrender.” He added, “They never do.”

With several other correspondents, among them John Lardner of the New Yorker and Alwyn Lee, a droll Australian, I had intended to climb the 556 feet to the top of Suribachi but it was in the late afternoon and the way was steep for old newsmen in their thirties. We slept in a hole in the G-2 area of the 5th Division command post, courtesy of Lt. Col. George Roll. I didn’t reach the top of Suribachi until a year and a half later, via jeep.

I find nothing more about the flag raising in my Iwo notes; I don’t recall being conscious of the change to a second flag—the one made famous by Joe Rosenthal’s photograph. Nearly everyone on the island faced northward, away from Suribachi.

The Rosenthal photograph, unquestionably the visual triumph of World War II, made its mark on the United States only two days after Joe clicked his shutter—it hit the front pages on 25 February, I later learned—because by 1945 the process of transmitting film had been speeded up. A plane took film once a day from Iwo to Guam, where the Navy had a good darkroom. The developed photographs were then wirephotoed to San Francisco for world-wide distribution.

On Iwo we—rather I—didn’t know anything about the tremendous impact of the Rosenthal photograph, and Joe himself has always candidly admitted that he initially thought the flood of congratulatory messages he received referred to the “gung-ho” shot of helmet-waving Marines that he posed after the flag raising. (Rosenthal complicated matters by replying “Yes” to the AP’s query, “Was the photograph posed?”)

My editors on Time led the 5 March issue of the magazine (on the newsstands 1 March) with Joe’s photograph but the editors of Life were more suspicious: it had to be posed, they believed, so they didn’t run it. Since I was still on Iwo, I didn’t yet know of these decisions. I didn’t even know the flag’s picture had been taken.

I left Iwo Jima 9 March on Adm. Kelly Turner’s flagship, El Dorado, and managed to get several stories written before we docked at Apra Harbor, Guam, forty-nine hours later. It was an exciting time on Guam: photographs of the B-29’s first firebombing of Tokyo, flown during the night of 9-10 March, showed sixteen miles of Tokyo burnt out—and Iwo was already being used as a haven for those AAF planes which had been damaged over Japan.

I find the first mention of Rosenthal’s masterpiece in my notes of 12 March: Joe had become so famous he was going stateside for a lecture tour, although some said the photograph was a fake. “But what a picture,” I scribbled.

Among those disturbed by the authenticity of Rosenthal’s photograph was Staff Sergeant Louis Lowery of Leatherneck, who came to see me. He was more than lukewarm under the collar, calling the Rosenthal photo “grand photographically but, in a fashion, historically phony, like Washington crossing the Delaware.” What Lowery was sore about was the failure to credit him with photographing the first or “real” flag raising. The quality of the photographs was for him a secondary issue.

The AP got wind of my dispatch to Time, Inc., from Guam, and made rather stiff representations to the editors: Rosenthal’s photograph was neither phony nor posed, and Time and Life had better not say so. Oddly, the editors never told me of the AP’s protest, and I didn’t find out about it until nearly twenty years later, when I was lunching with an AP editor in New York. There is no doubt that I went a bit overboard and I hereby apologize to the AP and Joe Rosenthal. I’m glad my dispatch was published in neither magazine.

Time ran the “Story of a Picture” in the “Press” section of its 26 March issue, and Life, same date, also explained the confusion about who-got-there-first, using Rosenthal’s and Lowery’s photographs as well as Emanuel Leutze’s “Washington Crossing the Delaware,” which shows the Father of His Country standing up in the boat; it was painted from models on the Rhine River many years after the American Revolution. These stories were based chiefly on dispatches I filed from Guam.

This was the first time the public had a chance to distinguish between the first and second flag raisings, I believe. Muddying the water was an AP story from Iwo which coincided with the wirephoto of Rosenthal’s photograph: this story identified Platoon Sergeant Ernest I. Thomas, Jr. of Tallahassee, Florida, as “the Marine who raised the flag atop Mount Suribachi.” The photograph dominated page 1 of the New York Times 25 February; the news story about Thomas, on page 28, did say the “small flag was supplanted soon by a larger one on a high staff,” but that told readers very little. A third story, on page 22, identified Rosenthal as the AP photographer who took an “outstanding series of pictures of the Iwo invasion.” A reader would be justified in believing that Rosenthal of page 22 photographed Thomas of page 28 as the chief flag raiser on page 1. What was needed was someone to point out that Rosenthal didn’t photograph the original flag raising—which was the one which Thomas helped to raise.

Sergeant Thomas was the platoon sergeant of the platoon that helped raise the flag, though certainly not “the Marine who raised the flag.” (He took over the platoon after his lieutenant was wounded on D-plus-two and won a Navy Cross posthumously for his heroism that day.) When his death (on 3 March) was revealed by AP (from Tallahassee, 29 March) Thomas had become “the Marine who planted the United States flag on Mount Suribachi… he put the flag on the mountain top, then had his men dig in around it and guard it through the night.” It is no wonder that the bewildered Florida legislature demanded that Thomas be given the credit he failed to receive when the names of Rosenthal’s flag raisers were published.

Ever since 1945 the citizens of “Boots” Thomas’s home town, Monticello, Florida, led by his boyhood friend Dr. James Sledge, have grimly insisted that Thomas be given his due; his gravestone in Roseland cemetery, I learned when I visited Monticello in December 1980, is inscribed “Ernest I. Thomas Jr., Sgt. USMCR, Mar. 10, 1924-Mar. 3, 1945. Killed in action on Iwo Jima five days after raising the first flag on Mt. Suribachi.” (Actually it was eight days.) Furthermore, plans were being made to erect a memorial alongside Highway 90 on 22 February 1981; it would carry a bas-relief of a Lowery photograph that showed Thomas standing atop Suribachi, rifle at the ready. At one time Dr. Sledge and friends hoped to collect $100,000 from the public for the memorial but they decided to go with the $7,000 in hand.

Not everyone on Guam favored enlightening the public. Edward Steichen, the illustrious photographer, pleaded with me not to reveal that Rosenthal’s photograph wasn’t the real first one; for the greater glory of the Marine Corps it was better unsaid, he said. Steichen also showed me movies made by the late Sergeant William Genaust, who stood alongside Rosenthal atop Suribachi. It was remarkable that Genaust and Rosenthal recorded almost precisely the same action on their film—a clip from the movie could substitute for the still—yet the movie man’s work (and his name) are lost in the dimness of time.

I admired Captain Steichen, USNR, at age 66 probably the oldest officer in the Pacific—a year older than Douglas MacArthur—and I admired the photographic team he had put together, quite a few of them former colleagues of mine on Life whom he had commissioned lieutenant commanders and lieutenants. The photographic record of the latter stages of the Pacific war is certainly enriched by their efforts. But I had to disagree with him: I said the truth about the flag hoistings would come out eventually, and it was better now than later. I filed the story.

According to Robert Elson in the official company history, The World of Time, Inc., Daniel Longwell, Life’s executive editor, who had rejected the Rosenthal photograph, repented, saying, “The country believed in that picture, and I just had to pipe down.” Not all Time, Inc., editors joined him; five years after the war Arthur Tourtellot refused to publish the photograph in Life’s Picture History of World War II.

I sometimes encounter veterans of Iwo who label Rosenthal’s photograph as “posed, re-enacted, fake” and some nagging doubts do remain (why would six husky men be required to raise a flag on a thin piece of Japanese pipe with a following wind?). As for myself, I have long since accepted Joe’s version as stated in his oral history interview with Ben Frank: “All of the fortunate things that can happen in one picture happened together without any urging on my part.”

The validity of the photograph is something else again. In my opinion—and I find many Iwo types who feel the same way—the implications are all wrong. Iwo wasn’t a matter of climbing the parapet and heroically planting the flag there. It was tortuous, painful slogging northward on the porkchop-shaped island, which eventually cost us 6,821 killed and 19,217 wounded. Suribachi was a symbol, and it was nice to have our flag up there, but the action—and the horror—lay elsewhere—where three of the Rosenthal flag raisers, as well as Sergeant Thomas, were killed. The inaccuracy was quaintly compounded by the fact that the photograph that characterizes Iwo depicted the second flag raising.

Of the clashes between British and French cavalry at Waterloo John Keegan writes in his book, The Face of Battle: “A little inquiry reveals, in any case, that formations were much less dense and speeds much lower than casual testimony, and certainly the work of salon painters, implies.” The renowned Iwo photograph is the salon painting of World War II.