by Joseph Coleman

Created on: April 24, 2009

I think, constantly, of my father; how he must have felt that day. Especially this time of year when we honor them, our Warriors deceased. We remember them at this time of sun and green grass.

It was February, 1945. You were all in that boat, heading towards who knew what! All you were allowed to know was that it was "big", and, they called it "Iwo!".

What were you thinking, Dad, as the boats neared the shores? God, you were so far away...remember?

The ships moved closer to the mountain. I couldn't believe how small it was. I was expecting something "big" like they had told us this invasion was. There were hills in Iowa bigger than this!

"Does anyone have anything to say?" the Chaplain asked.

"Yeah," Parnelli yelled, "why we doin' this again?" he laughed along with some of the others.

"To end the suffering of others," the Chaplain replied, seriously. I'm a good Catholic so, I understood this. I held the Crucifix around my neck often, and I prayed. I knew why Hitler was such an bad guy, but the Japanese, I never understood them.

"Ain't no rich kids in this boat!" Sarge growled. "We're all poor as church mice and, we got us a job to do, so buck up, boys! Cause, today, our job is to kill!" Sarge didn't want religion to put any soft thoughts in our heads. I don't quite understand that, but...but, I know the truth. That is what Marines do. And, I am, a Marine first, last, and eternally.

"We're gonna' kick them sons a' bitches back to Tokyo!" Sarge said. His job is to, constantly, drum this thing home, and into our brains. But, it's hard to keep home out of guy's brain, but you gotta think about yourself, and the other guys today; this ain't no time to think about home. I check out all the things I'll need to help us stay alive. Marines don't think about "me". There are three things a Marine thinks about when he's got that helmet on: fighting, killing the enemy, and any other Marine.

"Anybody need anything?" the Sarge scowled.

"Yeah," I piped up with my Alabama accent, "I sure could use a cold beer from Burnsey's Bar! Can I go now!"

Laughter breaks open a nervous moment.

"Shit Alabam', Ben yells, "I think you've drank enough for all of us!" humor is important. It makes the guys feel some semblance of home. That's good because the soon-to- die...still live.

I can't think of dyin' although, it is on everybody's mind. I mean War does kill people and, some of us ain't goin' home walkin'! There was a kid over in the corner crying. I went over to him. I'm the oldest one here, except

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