Veterans address today's war

Soldiers cannibalized aluminum from this downed Japanese Zero and made souvenir bracelets with it. (Photos courtesby Crawford Henson) [Click to enlarge]

"When the Iraq war started and what they had were weapons of mass destruction, I was all for it until they found out Saddam didn't have none," said Crawford "Bead Cook" Henson, 84, of Railroad Avenue, Shelbyville. "Now, I'm all against it. I don't know how we could have made such a big mistake."

"I'm like Crawford," said Beamon Smith, another octogenarian at the reunion. "We shouldn't have gotten into the shape we are in."

Several of nearly 20 veterans of one of the bloodiest battles during World War II were asked for their opinions on the war in Iraq. Some focused on recent developments. Others looked further back.

The anti-aircraft guns manned by the 483rd protected P-38s like this one. (Photo courtesy Crawford Henson) [Click to enlarge]

"When President Carter got rid of a lot of the CIA and the FBI, we didn't have enough people to tell us what's going on," Smith said. "I'd like to see all the boys and girls get back home."

Comparisons and contrasts were drawn between WWII and Iraq.

"In WWII, we were fighting for the freedom of the United States," said Marvin Boyd of Lawrence County. "Now, it's for freedom against the terrorism."

These veterans come to the reunion with wives, children, grandchildren, and in-laws. One couple married as a result of friendships forged during reunions. Some of the younger men have been to other wars. Korean veteran Dale Sanders, 76, of Hopkinsville, Ky., is one. His 20-year-old grandson is a Marine, heading for Iraq in September.

"We shouldn't have been there to start with because the U.S. cannot be the police of the world," Sanders said.

Other opinions sought included their thoughts on civilian deaths during war.

"At the time of dropping the (atomic) bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, there was no outcry about killing civilians," Boyd said. "Now, there is a big outcry when three civilians are killed."

Asked the open-ended question for his opinion on the war in Iraq, George Johnson, 86, of Florence, Ala., said, "It's awful. There are a lot of religious groups in that country. They don't fight like us. They blow themselves up and think they get a ticket right to heaven."

Is he for or against the war?

"It's awful to cut and run," Johnson replied. "I don't know that we ought to just go ahead and go out in some order. We're tired of seeing the men get killed. It's a bad situation.

"Those last ... who got killed and were finally found," he said of missing soldiers found mutilated, "they were in bad shape. I don't think that ought to go on. They [Iraqi insurgents] are not satisfied to just kill."

Marvin Boyd goes to the York VA Medical Center in Murfreesboro for health care and sees soldiers who've returned from Iraq without arms or legs.

"You go home thanking God for the shape you're in," the Lawrence County resident said, attributing his lack of war wounds to "luck," although a comrade differs.

"There is no luck," said Smith. "The good Lord was looking after you."

The Iwo Jima survivors were in the Army's 483rd Anti-Aircraft Artillery unit assigned to protect fighter planes, pilots, runways and their own installations established after a bloody invasion of the Pacific island.

James H. Jones, 82, of Murfreesboro, was a machine gunner on an M-51, an air-cooled machine gun on a turret on a truck trailer to protect the runway from low flying aircraft, he said.

"We know we shot down one plane," Jones said. "We were in only three air raids.

"Of the 42 of us who left Murfreesboro at the same time, we had only one casualty. He was hit by friendly fire, shrapnel from 90-mm anti-aircraft fire.

"The planes were coming in so low that a round went through trees and exploded," Jones said.

Photos of Iwo Jima were taken by Henson and his fellow soldiers who made a dark room from an old cistern, the Shelbyville resident said. Some of the pictures show aircraft; a fallen Japanese Zero, and an American P-38 fighter ready for take-off.

Shelbyville businessman David Dickerson sent film and photo paper from his photography shop in the Gunter Building on Shelbyville's public square, Henson said.

Sometimes photos were confiscated by officers who insisted on being told who'd made the pictures, Henson said.

"All of them said they didn't know," Henson said of others' answers. "I said the wrong thing. I said, 'I'd recognize him if I saw him again.'

"I looked at 100,000 men," he said of the result of officers' orders that followed his admission. "It took me five days."

The forced and bogus search for soldiers was a result of his photo sales business and yet it somehow had another advantage for Henson even though the enterprise was shut down: He was forced to eat with the officers and therefore had better food.

The South Pacific island of Iwo Jima was immortalized by another photo: Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal's shot of the American flag being raised on the top of Mount Suribachi.

"I was there on the dad-gum island," Rufus Bobo, a retired Union Carbide employee living in Columbia, said when asked if he was there to see the flag raising.

Lytle Turpin, 84, originally from Shelbyville but now of Melborne, Ky., said: "We were down there where we could see well and we saw them carrying the flag and the flag pole up there. You could see them put it up."

Henson said: "One had a flag under their shirt at their chest that they were going to put up anyway. They went up and expected to get shot and they put up the small flag."

Turpen said, "After the small flag went up, there was nothing going on," such as enemy fire.

Added Bobo, "After that went down, they put the other up."

It was the second flag raising photographed by Rosenthal, a legitimate event for two reasons: One, it was a larger flag; and secondly, it wasn't staged.

There has been a controversy over whether the famous photo was staged. It wasn't, according to a lengthy article by AP writer Mitchell Landsberg.

"Horns and whistles were blowing" when the flag went up, Henson said. "It brought thrills down your back.

"There were 70,000-80,000 men there and they all saw it," Henson said, discounting his claim of having to look at 100,000 men in five days.

"I didn't see it put up, but I did see it fly," said Jones. It came off the flag ship of the convoy. It was put up when we were at the foot of Mount Suribachi."

The Battle of Iwo Jima took 6,821 American lives, including 5,931 Marines, according to the AP.

The Army's 483rd AAA was "the lost battalion," according to Smith. "We were attached to everything but the WACS and the WAVES."

Now, they are attached to each other after 49 reunions.

The first was at the home of Willie Mae Aycock, 81, of Tuscumbia, Ala., the general secretary of the reunion's organization. It was in May of 1958 and 17 men and their families attended.

"This is really the 60th anniversary of them getting back home on Jan. 1, 1946," Aycock said. "Most of them got back then."

Those were the married men. A number of single men stayed to clear the island of guns, vehicles, ordinance and other fixtures of war, the veterans said. They loaded the scrap on a barge and dumped it at sea.

Aycock is a widow. Clifford E. Aycock, came back and worked as a rural mail carrier. They were married 60 years when he died March 18, 2005.

"On our first anniversary, he was on a ship about to land on Iwo Jima," she said.

She's continued to work with other secretaries for the reunions that have been in Rotary Park in Lewisburg, Lake Winnespesaukaha near Chattanooga, her home and a few other locations. More have been at Henry Horton State Park than other places. The reunion was moved to Columbia when then Gov. Don Sundquist closed state parks in an attempt to save state funds.

Annie Griffeth, 81, of Milledgeville, Ga., came to Henry Horton State Park again this year for the reunion. Her daughter Pam met Keith Smith, son of Beamon and Sibyle Smith of Loretta, at the reunion in 1979. The young Smith couple points to the stairs in the lodge as the place where they met while in their early 20s. They'll have been married 26 years on Oct. 11. Annie's husband, William, died in 1984. Of course she still attends.

"It means that much to me," she said.

Aycock's son, Kenneth Aycock, spoke at the memorial service during the reunion eight years ago and he recalled how important they've been since the first one at his family home.

"We had 17 men and a total of 53 including families," he said. "Crawford Henson (of Shelbyville) couldn't come but he called long distance about every five minutes to talk."

The closing event for the reunion Sunday was another memorial service to remember comrades who've died. One is Howard Burnice Lamb who would have turned 82, had he not died of cancer on March 27, 2003, according to his son, John Howard Burnice Lamb. He said his father didn't talk much about Iwo Jima, although one of his stories was confirmed by a vet at the reunion: They did dig a pit next to their tents to bury beer.

There have been as many as 105 veterans to come with their wives and children to a reunion of the artillery unit, according to a Nov. 9, 2005, story in the Wayne County (Tenn.) News. On Friday night, 16 veterans posed for a photo to commemorate the 60th anniversary of their leaving Iwo Jima and their 49th reunion.