Adrian Daily Telegram: Iwo Jima Marine receives flag flown above U.S. Capitol
March 28, 2016
More than 70 years later, U.S. Marine Corps veteran Lyman Cory still remembers seeing the American flag raised on Mount Suribachi during the World War II Battle of Iwo Jima.
Wounded in that battle, Cory recalled that time again Friday when he was presented with his own American flag.
"This reminds me, I saw the first flag when it went up," Cory said as he was presented the flag, which had flown over the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C. "I had nothing to do with it except I was doing my thing in my area, but an officer was close by and someone had radioed him that the flag was going up, and I looked up just in time to see it go up."
"We thought when the flag went up we had the battle under control. The thing is, there were a lot more people killed and wounded after the flag went up than before the flag went up."
U.S. Rep. Tim Walberg, R-Tipton, presented the flag. It included a certificate that the flag had flown March 10 over the Capitol "in honor and recognition of valiant service to the United States of America and the United States Marine Corps ..."
"This is a privilege," Rep. Walberg said. "When I've had an opportunity to meet Marines and other military all across the spectrum, I've always been impressed with the commitment to duty, honor and country."
Cory, who turned 90 last month, was one of the 19,217 Americans wounded in a month-long battle to take the island from dug-in Japanese forces. Another 6,821 U.S. service members in the 1945 battle were killed.
"The saddest part of walking off the island was leaving your buddies, and we always said ‘That's the way the ball bounces,'" Cory said.
Cory said he's often considered that the island of Iwo Jima was similar in size to Adrian, and the number of casualties was roughly the same as the entire Adrian population.
Cory noted that he was only 19 when he'd shipped out for Iwo Jima.
"We left for Iwo Jima on the day after Christmas, 1944, and it was Feb. 19 before we actually landed, so we had a long time at sea with practice landings," Cory said. "The convoy when we left Pearl Harbor was only about six or seven ships, but every place we went the convoy kept getting bigger. By the time we got to Iwo, there were 700 or 800 ships."
Walberg recounted one of several stories of the battle that Cory had written, this one about when Cory, a supply private, was ordered to bring up a pot of coffee to the front lines through sniper fire.
"He set the coffee down in the middle of the battlefield," Walberg said, "then turned and high-tailed back and radioed to his leader that 'If you want your coffee, you're going to have to come get it because I left it out on the field.' So they picked the fastest runner, and who was that? Lyman Cory."
Cory retrieved the coffee safely, but casualties grew among his fellow Marines. He recalled one soldier he'd started to know.
"We had a pretty hectic day, and we got in our holes at night," Cory said. "A kid named Abel, he was a replacement and wasn't in my company when we trained, he and I got to talking in the hole, and he said, 'I'm going to pray all night that I get shot tomorrow so I can be evacuated. I want a wound that will send me home. I've all of this action that I want any part of.'
"When we ran out the next morning, a machine gunner opened up on me and I dove into the ground between two others that had just been machine gunned. I was looking around to see what my situation was, and I saw Able coming to help me. He ran right along beside me no farther than from here to the window."
Cory choked up as he described watching Abel being shot in the neck.
"I handled those situations. I never faltered, and I never broke down or nothing, but then I think about it, it's something I can't forget. I see him dying a thousand times. I wake up at night and see him."
"This is very good," said Jerry Potter, a nephew of Cory's who helped organize Friday's event, "because these guys need closure. They'll never get closure."
The idea for the flag presentation was made by another of Cory's relatives, Jamie Richardson, who had worked for Walberg's campaign while in college. The flag was awarded during a family gathering on family property on Vischer Road near Lime Lake. Richardson praised Cory for instilling a sense of service and freedom in several family generations.
The wound that took Cory out of the six-week battle came on March 13, 1945. He and a Thompson submachine gunner were trying to flush out a Japanese rifleman when another Japanese soldier shot Cory in the hip.
"It went in here, through my cartridge belt, never exploded a cartridge," Cory said. "Shrapnel from the cartridges went into my flesh, and I had my hand grenades here in my field jacket pocket. That bullet never set off a hand grenade, never hit one. If it would have, with all those hand grenades, I would've been nothing but mince meat."
This article originally appeared in the March 27 edition of the Adrian Daily Telegram.
Wounded in that battle, Cory recalled that time again Friday when he was presented with his own American flag.
"This reminds me, I saw the first flag when it went up," Cory said as he was presented the flag, which had flown over the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C. "I had nothing to do with it except I was doing my thing in my area, but an officer was close by and someone had radioed him that the flag was going up, and I looked up just in time to see it go up."
"We thought when the flag went up we had the battle under control. The thing is, there were a lot more people killed and wounded after the flag went up than before the flag went up."
U.S. Rep. Tim Walberg, R-Tipton, presented the flag. It included a certificate that the flag had flown March 10 over the Capitol "in honor and recognition of valiant service to the United States of America and the United States Marine Corps ..."
"This is a privilege," Rep. Walberg said. "When I've had an opportunity to meet Marines and other military all across the spectrum, I've always been impressed with the commitment to duty, honor and country."
Cory, who turned 90 last month, was one of the 19,217 Americans wounded in a month-long battle to take the island from dug-in Japanese forces. Another 6,821 U.S. service members in the 1945 battle were killed.
"The saddest part of walking off the island was leaving your buddies, and we always said ‘That's the way the ball bounces,'" Cory said.
Cory said he's often considered that the island of Iwo Jima was similar in size to Adrian, and the number of casualties was roughly the same as the entire Adrian population.
Cory noted that he was only 19 when he'd shipped out for Iwo Jima.
"We left for Iwo Jima on the day after Christmas, 1944, and it was Feb. 19 before we actually landed, so we had a long time at sea with practice landings," Cory said. "The convoy when we left Pearl Harbor was only about six or seven ships, but every place we went the convoy kept getting bigger. By the time we got to Iwo, there were 700 or 800 ships."
Walberg recounted one of several stories of the battle that Cory had written, this one about when Cory, a supply private, was ordered to bring up a pot of coffee to the front lines through sniper fire.
"He set the coffee down in the middle of the battlefield," Walberg said, "then turned and high-tailed back and radioed to his leader that 'If you want your coffee, you're going to have to come get it because I left it out on the field.' So they picked the fastest runner, and who was that? Lyman Cory."
Cory retrieved the coffee safely, but casualties grew among his fellow Marines. He recalled one soldier he'd started to know.
"We had a pretty hectic day, and we got in our holes at night," Cory said. "A kid named Abel, he was a replacement and wasn't in my company when we trained, he and I got to talking in the hole, and he said, 'I'm going to pray all night that I get shot tomorrow so I can be evacuated. I want a wound that will send me home. I've all of this action that I want any part of.'
"When we ran out the next morning, a machine gunner opened up on me and I dove into the ground between two others that had just been machine gunned. I was looking around to see what my situation was, and I saw Able coming to help me. He ran right along beside me no farther than from here to the window."
Cory choked up as he described watching Abel being shot in the neck.
"I handled those situations. I never faltered, and I never broke down or nothing, but then I think about it, it's something I can't forget. I see him dying a thousand times. I wake up at night and see him."
"This is very good," said Jerry Potter, a nephew of Cory's who helped organize Friday's event, "because these guys need closure. They'll never get closure."
The idea for the flag presentation was made by another of Cory's relatives, Jamie Richardson, who had worked for Walberg's campaign while in college. The flag was awarded during a family gathering on family property on Vischer Road near Lime Lake. Richardson praised Cory for instilling a sense of service and freedom in several family generations.
The wound that took Cory out of the six-week battle came on March 13, 1945. He and a Thompson submachine gunner were trying to flush out a Japanese rifleman when another Japanese soldier shot Cory in the hip.
"It went in here, through my cartridge belt, never exploded a cartridge," Cory said. "Shrapnel from the cartridges went into my flesh, and I had my hand grenades here in my field jacket pocket. That bullet never set off a hand grenade, never hit one. If it would have, with all those hand grenades, I would've been nothing but mince meat."
This article originally appeared in the March 27 edition of the Adrian Daily Telegram.
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