The headquarters group were so busy after
landing from the jump that they could not break away; but after a few hours when
there was a slight lull, Sgt. Carl N. Shaw called two volunteers who had asked for
the job, and guided them down to the western end of the parade ground. Here he
had noticed a stout, tall old telegraph pole standing out, gaunt and grim, in
the open. By this time, Jap resistance had begun to wake up and a few snipers
were firing toward the parade ground. "You
fellows may be under a little fire, so hustle with the job!" Shaw said as he
passed the flag over to Cpl. Frank G. Arrigo and watched
Pvt. Clyde I. Bates his assistant, uncoil the rope. The
pole was already spiked for climbing, and the two boys went up it like a pair of
monkeys. At first their action was not noticed, but before long the perimeter
rang with the sharp, high-pitched report of a Jap sniper's rifle. Another report
came, and then another, meanwhile our ground fire was directed toward the
sniper's hiding place, though no definite target could be seen. The two boys
hurried their work, but made sure the flag was secure. At last and with a final
fling, the flag tossed its folds into the plunging breeze. Here, on the very
edge of the perimeter, the flag remained for the next two weeks. Combat patrols
filed past it in the morning on their way out to look for Japs; and before dusk,
in the evening, they returned, bearing their wounded and their dead. Machine
guns and rifles volleyed around it. Mortars and artillery shells arched
overhead. A few stray shots, (either ours or the Japanese) cut through its
folds. Once, the high tide of a Jap banzai charge swept to the very base of the
staff, then recoiled in a welter of its own blood. Not until the real battle had
ended did the orders come to move the flag higher on the parade ground for an
official "flag-raising," which was broadcast all over the world;--but the real
flag raising was here, without benefit of publicity. It was here, in the midst
of the fighting, that the flag seemed to grow from a mere symbol into a great,
living personality. Here I shall always love to remember it, "beautifully
ensovreigned" , as Whitman phrased it and with the thrill of an incredible
battle around it.
