An older friend took me aside a few years ago and related a story he said he hadn't told for nearly 40 years.
"Let's take a walk," he said. "I had a bit of a nightmare last night, and I just think it's time to unload. You're a good listener."In his dream, my friend, a fabulously successful engineer, had gone back 50 years to one of the most horrific fights in American history - the battle for the island of Iwo Jima where young Marines died by the scores in an almost unparalleled blood bath.
"I was in the second wave," he said, "and it would be difficult for you to even imagine the carnage."
As he talked, it became clear that he was trying to once and for all put behind him the feelings he had about the Japanese and about that time when he had convinced himself that he would never return from a stinking Pacific hellhole few had even heard of.
The conversation took place at about the same time the Smithsonian Institution was preparing an exhibit around the Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima. The exhibit was highly critical of the decision to use the bomb and caused such a furor that the fabled Institution was forced to cancel.
"They (the Smithsonian curators) couldn't possibly have known what that bomb meant to those of us who had survived both Iwo and Okinawa and were faced with invading the home islands," he said. "What were they thinking?"
Exactly. They clearly weren't and neither was the distinguished chairman of the U.S. Commission on Fine Arts, J. Carter Brown, when he labeled the Marine's Iwo Jima Memorial "kitsch" recently.
Few monuments in Washington are more revered than the portrayal of the raising of the American flag over Mount Sirabachi. Brown, despite the fact he is only 63 and, like me, would have no first-hand idea the price paid for that tiny piece of hideous real estate, should have known better, particularly in this age of political correctness.
Brown, the former director of the National Gallery of Art, was quoted in transcripts as disparaging the monument's artistic value and its sculptor, Felix de Weldon, himself a former member of the arts commission. He was disdainful of the fact it was done from a famous photograph. It was fashioned from Joe Rosenthal's famous news picture, which won the photographer a Pulitzer Prize.
Unfortunately, Brown's injudicious remarks came in the thick of a fight over the establishment of an Air Force memorial close by the Iwo Jima site. A group of ex-Marines, (if it is possible to be an "ex" Marine) including a New York congressman, Republican Gerald Solomon, contend it would over-shadow the sacred memorial. Solomon has introduced legislation to halt the Air Force project.
I have no idea whether the Air Force project's opponents are correct. I certainly believe there is need for an Air Force memorial, but if there is a chance that it would not complement the Iwo Jima monument, consideration should be given to finding another site for it.
Solomon has called for Brown's resignation as chairman of the arts commission. That may be a bit harsh. It is fair to say, however, that Brown needs to clear up this matter. His remarks were insensitive and inappropriate.
In the Smithsonian's Enola Gay saga, the curators were born after World War II, and their ignorance was more understandable. For Brown, there can be no excuse.
As my friend and I talked about his experience, my own appreciation for the sacrifices made on that tiny island grew immeasurably. I felt privileged to have been chosen to hear it. Perhaps Brown should have the same experience - say while standing next to the "kitsch."