GHOSTS OF IWO JIMA

GHOSTS OF IWO JIMA

By Andy Weddington

Wednesday, 10 June 2026

He spoke well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.  - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

Not fifteen minutes into H-Hour on D-Day - 19 February 1945 - a TBM Avenger - lead aircraft - was blown out of the sky. 

The plane crashed into the sea about 100 yards from the base of Mount Suribachi. 

The crew - three U.S. Navy Sailors and a U.S. Marine - added to the KIA count. 

Combat raged for over a month. 

American dead and wounded exceeded well over 25,000.

Our home library holds more than a handful of books about Iwo. 

I've read them. 

Sobering. 

Now, for that Avenger loss (typically crew of three Sailors), I have cause to again read. 

As time permits, will. 

The pilot - Lieutenant Commander Frank Peterson - was the squadron Commanding Officer. He started the U.S. Naval Academy in 1929 but did not finish. His path to earning 'wings of gold' circuitous returning to the Navy in 1936. He was an experienced pilot. Combat flying he knew. 

Major Raymond Collins - attached to 5th Marine Division - was seated just behind the pilot. He was Chief Aerial Observer for the invasion forces. Major Collins was commissioned a second lieutenant in 1939 following graduation from VMI. 

Aviation Radioman 1st Class(ARm1c) Merlan Emberson was in the fuselage belly. He, as rating indicates, was the radioman and bombardier. Petty Officer Emberson enlisted in the Navy before the war. He, too, knew combat flying. 

Aviation Ordinanceman 1st Class (AOm1c) Lambertus Stoffels was in a glass ball in the Avenger's rear manning a .50 machine gun. His job was to protect the airplane. It was his first combat mission. 

Last week while researching family on the Internet my wife again (last year first discovery) came across the name Merlan Clifford Emberson. 

He's been somewhat of an enigma. 

Not so much anymore. 

He was 26 the day he died. Married. And had a not quite 2 years-old daughter he'd not seen since a few weeks after birth. 

Merlan was an uncle to my wife. 

Never before was he mentioned by family. 

Four days after that Avenger and crew went down near the base of Suribachi, Marines raised a flag atop the mountain. 

Ten years, to the date, after that flagraising was born - 23 February 1955 - Robert A. Sommer. 

Following his father's service, 17 years-old Bobby, frustrated and wanting adventure, left high school and enlisted in the Navy.

He was an underway Sailor.

He knew his job. Worked hard. Played harder (red service stripe proof).  

The U.S.S Midway one of many. 

Twenty years of dedicated, faithful, and honorable service later Boiler Technician Chief (BTC) Bobby Sommer retired. 

His life tragically cut short 03 June 2000 - succumbing to a brutal service-connected neurological disease. 

My wife and I bedside at Walter Reed when he died. 

Bobby never knew about Merlan. 

We have family tradition that on the deceased's date of birth and date of death we dine out to reflect, to remember, and to raise glass in honor.

February 23 and June 03 we've honored for 26 years. 

Now we add Merlan. 

February 19 and August 04 (birth in 1918 - which happens to be date my father-in-law, too U.S. Navy (WWII Tin Can Sailor), died in 2001; born 9 years after Merlan). 

I imagine Longfellow would be gobsmacked by the Internet - a mind-boggling tool to trace footprints, locate graves, and identify angels (some fallen). 

As Donald Fagen, of Steely Dan, sang in his and the late Walter Becker's hit 'Kid Charlemagne,' "This life can be very strange ... "