The most famous image in American history was
Joe Rosenthal's photo of the second flag raising over Mount
Suribachi on the island of Iwo Jima in February of 1945, toward
the end of the first week of battle. (The first flag was
considered too small to be seen clearly from a distance, so a
larger flag was brought in from one of the ships.)
The photo is memorialized in Washington, DC, in the Marine Corps
Memorial. It is an image we all know. It is an image that tells
the world that Americans planted the flag of freedom at great
price.
What many of us don't know is that the battle for this piece of volcanic
real estate that reeked of sulphur was one of the bloodiest of
World War II.
Beginning on February 19, 1945, Marine forces, 70,000 strong,
fought an unknown number of deeply entrenched Japanese defenders
inch by inch, yard by yard, for five weeks. In the end, the
Marines took over 25,000 casualties, with more than 6,000 killed
in action taking the island.
We would fail in our duty, not just to each other as Americans,
but to our brothers and sisters around the world, if we failed
to remember the eloquent eulogy delivered by an American rabbi
at the dedication of the Marine Cemetery at the end of the
fighting.
Rabbi Roland B. Gittlesohn was the first Jewish Chaplain for the
Marine
Corps. More than 1,500 Jewish Marines were in the invading force
at Iwo Jima.
Rabbi Gittlesohn was in the thick of the battle, ministering to
fallen Marines of every faith under enemy fire. He shared
their fear, horror and despair. His unending efforts to comfort
the wounded and inspire the fearful earned him three
decorations.
After the battle, the Division Chaplain, Warren Cuthriell, a
Protestant minister, asked the rabbi to deliver the
memorial sermon at a combined religious service dedicating the
Marine Cemetery on Iwo Jima.
Cuthriell wanted all the fallen Marines honored in a single,
non-denominational ceremony. Unfortunately the Marine Corps,
being a reflection of America, was still strongly prejudiced. A
majority of the Christian chaplains objected to having a rabbi
preach over predominantly Christian graves. The Catholic
chaplains, in particular, and in keeping with what was then
Church doctrine, opposed any form of joint prayer service.
To his credit, Cuthriell refused to alter his plans. But
Gittlesohn wanted to spare his friend Cuthriell further
embarrassment, and so decided it was best not to deliver his
sermon.
Instead, three separate services were held. At the Jewish
service, to a congregation of 70 or so who attended, Rabbi
Gittlesohn delivered the powerful eulogy he originally wrote for
the combined service: "Here lie men who loved America because
their ancestors generations ago helped in her founding, and
other men who loved her with equal passion because they
themselves or their own fathers escaped from oppression to her
blessed shores.
Here lie officers and men, Negroes and
whites, rich men and poor . ..together. Here are
Protestants,Catholics and Jews together. Here no man prefers
another because of his faith or despises him because of
his color. Here there are no quotas of how many men of each
group are admitted or allowed. Among these men there is no
discrimination. No prejudices. No hatred. Theirs is the highest
and purest democracy.
Whosoever of us lifts his hand in hate against a brother, or who
thinks himself superior to those who happen to be in the
minority, makes of this ceremony and the bloody sacrifice it
commemorates, an empty, hollow mockery.
To this, then, as our solemn duty, sacred duty do we the living
now dedicate ourselves: to the right of Protestants, Catholics
and Jews, of white men and Negroes alike, to enjoy the democracy
for which all of them have here paid the price. . We here
solemnly swear that this shall not be in vain. Out of this and
from the suffering and sorrow of those who mourn this will come,
we promise, the birth of a new freedom for the sons of men
everywhere."
Among Gittlesohn's listeners were three Protestant chaplains who
were so incensed by the prejudice voiced by their colleagues
that they boycotted their own service to attend Gittlesohn's.
One of them borrowed the manuscript, and
unknown to Gittlesohn, distributed thousands of copies to his
regiment. Some Marines enclosed the copies in letters home. An
avalanche of coverage resulted with major news magazines
publishing excerpts and the entire sermon being read into The
Congressional Record.
The Army broadcast the sermon to American troops throughout the
world.
In 1995, the last year of his life, Rabbi Gittlesohn re-read a
portion of the eulogy at the fiftieth commemoration ceremony at
the Iwo Jima Memorial in Washington. In his autobiography, Rabbi
Gittlesohn reflected,
"I have often wondered whether anyone would ever have heard of
my Iwo Jima sermon had it not been for the bigoted attempt
to ban it."
