Woody’s death reminds us of greatness amid our woes

Published 1:30 am Friday, July 15, 2022

I officially kicked off my Summer Reading Season on the day of the Summer Solstice. I read Amor Towles’ The Lincoln Highway (loved it), The Guide by Peter Heller (liked it) and Monkey Boy by Francisco Goldman (didn’t care for it). Right now I’m reading Here Goes Nothing by Steve Toltz (and am loving it so much I hope it doesn’t end). On deck is Jonathan Franzen’s Crossroads, which weighs in at a hefty 580 pages and may push my Summer Reading Season into conflict with my Late Summer College Football Watching Season.

I’m accelerating my summer reading schedule a bit since we are in the midst of replacing our deck, which is where I like to do most of my summer reading. Our deck is in dire need of replacement. I believe it’s the only deck I’ve ever seen that has potholes, and the termites have been complaining about the deteriorating nutritional quality of the wood.

Wendy has been in Colorado visiting our new grandson Jack, and was therefore not around for the big 4th of July celebration. Turns out I didn’t do much to celebrate it myself. For the first time in recent memory, I did not purchase, launch, ignite, observe or dodge a single item in the festive family of fine firework products. My pyrotechnic abstinence was not motivated by any particular philosophical considerations. Rather I was busy reading and working in the yard on routine maintenance jobs I had neglected during what I’ll generously call our recently concluded “Spring.”

And the truth be told, between the sordid revelations of the Jan. 6 Commission, the grinding war in Ukraine, and the way the cold winds of change are blowing through the Supreme Court, I confess I wasn’t really in the proper frame of mind to completely enjoy a holiday celebrating the independence of our country. Or at least I wasn’t until I learned that Herschel “Woody” Williams died on the Wednesday before Independence Day at the age of 98 at his home in Huntington, WV.

Williams was the last surviving U.S. serviceman to have been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor in World War II. All Woody did to earn his MOH was to wade ashore at Iwo Jima and, in the span of four hours on that bloody beach, personally take out seven Japanese concrete reinforced pill boxes with his flamethrower while Japanese machine-gun fire ricocheted off the tank of jellied gasoline he carried on his back.

Seven thousand of Woody’s fellow Marines were carried off in body bags. To this day, Iwo Jima remains the site of the most casualties ever suffered by Marines in a single battle. Woody’s heroics were supported by four Marine riflemen that fateful morning in February of 1945. Two of them were killed. When Woody learned of the sacrifice of those two men, he insisted that the MOH he received belonged equally to each of them.

Woody witnessed the most famous flag-raising ceremony in history at Mount Suribachi before being called home to be presented with his medal by President Truman.

Woody’s life before joining the Marines wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. He was one of 11 siblings, only five of whom lived to adulthood. He was rejected by the Marines for being too short when he first tried to enlist only to reapply and be accepted when the Marines lowered their minimum height requirements to more quickly replace the many Marine casualties suffered by their island-hopping journey to Japan and the end of the war.

After the war, Woody spent some 33 years working for the Department of Veteran Affairs, primarily in support of Gold Star families, trying to make sure that the sacrifices of our fallen service men and women and their families are not forgotten or taken for granted. Woody knew first-hand how high the cost of freedom can be and how fragile it is.

Woody’s death last week was the end of an era, but the timing of his death just before the anniversary of America’s independence could not have been more appropriate or more inspiring. To his dying day, Woody considered himself to be the most fortunate person ever to have walked the earth. Men like Woody make it impossible to be cynical about those old-fashioned American values like honor, duty and service that have served our country for so long and so well.

Rest in peace Woody, and thank you for your service. And thank you too for the timely reminder that real heroes fight selflessly for their countries, not against it.

Tom Tyner writes a weekly humor column for this newspaper.