FAIRMONT – Stay with me, Woody.
That’s what Doral Lee, a big kid from Minnesota, said to Hershel Woodrow “Woody” Williams, a little guy from Marion County, as they slogged through the volcanic sand of Iwo Jima on Feb. 23, 1945.
Iwo Jima: “Sulphur Island,” in Japanese.
Monday marked the 250th birthday of the U.S. Marine Corps. Today is Veterans Day, honoring everyone who ever wore the uniform in all branches of the service.
For many, a key marker in the history of the intrepid fighting force that is the Marines occurred that afternoon of nearly 80 years ago, on that aforementioned island with its dormant volcano, some 600 miles south of Tokyo.
Williams, who grew up near Fairmont in Marion County, was initially told he was too short for war.
Then, the Marines changed the height requirement – and the kid from Quiet Dell booked it double-time to the induction center.
Short and slight, he was. Williams was 5-foot-6 and weighed maybe 135 pounds.
‘I’ll try’
The flamethrower he shouldered definitely weighed 70 pounds, and with two tanks of jellied gasoline sitting on his shoulders, Woody’s war could only be fought standing up.
Which wasn’t good for any American on Iwo Jima.
If a Marine so much as twitched, a sniper’s bullet caused blood to stain the porous dust and rock, during what would turn out to be one of the deadliest campaigns in the history of the Corps.
Taking out that row of pillboxes, though, might mean a foothold – finally – for the Marines.
Williams: “I’ll try.”
Two buddies who were going to flank him and throw down cover were shot dead almost immediately.
That’s when Doral said, “Stay with me, Woody.”
Four hours later, the pillboxes were gone and the Marines – including Woody and Doral – were still there.
President Harry Truman would drape the Medal of Honor, the military’s highest recognition for battlefield bravery, across Woody’s shoulders, in a solemn ceremony in the Rose Garden.
Veterans Day – and a birthday party for the Marines this weekend
Another Marine from north-central West Virginia will be front and center for today’s Veterans Day proceedings in Morgantown.
Tom Hellyer, of Core, who fought in Vietnam and later was a drill sergeant for recruits mustering in at Parris Island, is parade marshal of the city’s Veterans Day Parade, which steps off at 6 p.m., on High Street.
And Saturday, Marine Corps League Earl Anderson Detachment No. 342, the Morgantown-based nonprofit that serves Marines and their families (active-duty or civilian life) from across Mon, Marion, Preston, Taylor and Harrison counties will fall in at Lakeview Golf Resort for its celebration of the 250th birthday.
Keynote remarks for the evening will be delivered by Marine and master sergeant John Hernandez, who is junior vice state commander of the Veterans of Foreign Wars for the state of California.
He has a Semper Fi connection with Joe Heubi, the current commandant of the detachment here. The two went through boot camp together at Twentynine Palms, Calif.
“I asked John if he could join us,” Heubi said. “Of course, he said yes. That’s what Marines do for Marines.”
Remarks from the caretaker
Semper Fi, from the Latin, translates to “Always faithful” – the motto of the U.S. Marines.
Williams, who died at the age of 98 three years ago, lived that motto to the end.
The Marine and last surviving Medal of Honor recipient from World War II made a career with the VA Hospital system, helping vets like him, home from the fighting.
Soldiers who didn’t always realize civilian life had its battles, too.
Meanwhile, Woody’s memories of that day in 1945 on Iwo Jima weren’t that sharp, he said, which he surmised was his subconscious protecting him.
He could still hear rounds pinging off those tanks – he wondered if he was going to be incinerated at any second – and that one wrenching moment of eye contact with a soldier charging him from one of those pillboxes.
Williams did remember reading the citation for the medal with a sense of post-traumatic detachment.
“I was thinking, ‘Was that me?’”
And he definitely had total recall of what he said after that ceremony in the Rose Garden.
“This medal isn’t ‘mine,’” he said. “It doesn’t belong to me. It’s for the Marines who didn’t come back. I’m just the caretaker.”
