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Ira Hayes was one of the six Marines photographed raising the flag at Iwo Jima. In popular memory he is the dumb Indian who became a Marine hero at Iwo Jima and died at 36, a drunk.
“Ira Hayes: the Akimel O’odham warrior, World War II, and the Price of Heroism,” by Tom Holm, shows there was more to Hayes. It reveals him as an intelligent, sensitive man, scarred by Post Traumatic Shock Disorder, who was never allowed to heal.
Holm examines Hayes and his tribe, the Akimel O’odham. With long military traditions, it was longtime United States ally against Spain, Mexico, and other Indian tribes. Their reward? To be robbed of their water rights, and wealth. They became impoverished in the late 19th century.
Hayes, coming from a warrior tradition, fit naturally in the Marines, becoming an outstanding Marine. Holm shows Hays as smart, outgoing, and sensitive in high school. In boot camp he was disciplined and sober, the one who did not drink on leave. Hayes became parachute and Raider qualified. In combat on Bougainville, he proved a brave and competent combatant.
His misfortune was being photographed raising the US flag at Iwo Jima. That led to unwanted participation in the Seventh War Bond tour.
By Iwo Jima’s end Hayes was suffering from PTSD, then called combat fatigue. He watched close buddies die, comrades at Bougainville and Iwo Jima. He felt the dead were heroes, not him. Tribal tradition taught modesty as an important warrior value. It discouraged contact with the dead ever-present at Iwo. Instead of needed rest Hayes was forced into public view. His actions were spotlighted and celebratory drinks pushed onto him. Under this stress all three surviving Marines overindulged. Hayes, an Indian, was singled out for drinking. Pulled from the tour he was sent back to his unit without being allowed home leave.
There were other stresses. A dead buddy was one of the other flag raisers but went uncredited. Hayes was ordered to stay silent. He left the Marines to be free to tell the truth. He returned to an impoverished existence. After defending his county, he could not voting in Arizona. With untreated PTSD, made to feel worthless, and singled out and punished for his drinking because he was a drunken Indian, he spiraled down.
Holm’s book makes grim reading. It remains worth reading. Although a tragedy, Ira Hayes’s life remains worth honoring.
This review was written by Mark Lardas who writes at Ricochet as Seawriter. Mark Lardas, an engineer, freelance writer, historian, and model-maker, lives in League City, TX. His website is marklardas.com. It appeared in a different form in Epoch Times.
This post was promoted to the Main Feed by an editor.
Discussion (8)
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A few decades ago, my father, who had been enlisted in the Navy late in World War II, painted a picture of the Iwo Jima Memorial in Washington D.C. He added a dramatic sky for effect. My wife always sheds tears when she hears the song about Ira Hayes by Johnny Cash.
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County names are in bold type. Ira Hayes was enrolled in the Gila River Indian Community located in Pinal County and Maricopa County. See the lower center of the map.
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An uncle who I never got to meet died in fighting on Okinawa, in the same time period.
Reading about Hayes reminds me of so much that is slowly being forgotten about that war.
PTSD was barely acknowledged even decades later when those who served in Vietnam were plagued by it.
Our veterans deserve better than some people's skepticism and indifference.
I am glad to know the author took the time and effort to record this man's life. He is just one of many who deserve being honored yet are so often unacknowledged.
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It's interesting that he did this song. I don't know what inspired him to do it.
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Like many Country & Western singers, Johnny was attracted to sad stories and tales of woe. My wife got to hear the Ira Hayes song many times because I used to hold weekly chess parties at our house where master-level players would gather to play quick informal games while listening to music, eating junk food, and drinking beer (you've got to know avid chess players, an unusual lot!). A big favorite at these parties was Johnny Cash music. And one of my friends, an Eastern Indian named Pappu, would drink and drink while playing, and end up getting drunk. He would then call out for the playing of "Drunken Ira Hayes," one of his favorites. He would then sing along in his drunken heavy Indian accent which would bring reams of laughter from the rest of us.
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