It is huge. That’s the first thing you notice when you’re standing at the base of the Iwo Jima flag statue in Arlington, Virginia. Technically, its official name is the Marine Corps War Memorial, but nobody calls it that. Most people just pull over, look up at those massive bronze figures, and think about that one grainy photograph from 1945.
But there is a weird disconnect between what we see and what actually happened on that sulfurous island.
Most visitors assume they’re looking at a recreation of the moment the U.S. Marines won the battle. They aren’t. The flag raising depicted in the statue happened on February 23, 1945. The battle didn’t actually end until March 26. That’s an entire month of some of the most brutal, soul-crushing combat in human history occurring after the "victory" shot was taken. If you want to understand why this hunk of bronze matters, you have to look past the patriotism and see the messy, confusing reality of its creation.
The Second Flag and the Joe Rosenthal Shot
History is rarely a first-take kind of deal.
Early on the morning of February 23, a small group of Marines from the 2nd Battalion, 28th Regiment, climbed Mount Suribachi. They hauled up a small American flag—about 54 by 28 inches—and lashed it to a piece of water pipe. It was the first time a foreign flag had flown on Japanese soil in centuries. The Marines on the beach cheered. Ships offshore honked their whistles.
It was a big deal. But it wasn't the "statue" moment.
Secretary of the Navy James Forrestal saw the flag and decided he wanted it as a souvenir. Colonel Chandler Johnson, the battalion commander, wasn't having it. He figured the flag belonged to his boys. He ordered a second, much larger flag to be sent up—one that people could actually see from across the island—and told his men to bring the first one back down for safekeeping.
Joe Rosenthal, an Associated Press photographer, was hiking up the mountain just as the second crew arrived with the bigger flag. He almost missed the shot. He was actually piling up rocks to stand on so he could get a better angle when he saw the men starting to hoist the pole. He swung his camera around and snapped the shutter without even using the viewfinder.
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One 400th of a second. That's all it took to create the most reproduced image in the history of photography.
From Photo to Bronze: Felix de Weldon’s Obsession
Felix de Weldon was a sculptor serving in the Navy when he saw Rosenthal’s photo. He was so struck by the composition—the way the figures formed a pyramid of straining muscles—that he stayed up all night making a clay model of it.
That model eventually turned into the Iwo Jima flag statue we see today.
Building it was a logistical nightmare. De Weldon spent nearly a decade on the project. He didn't just guess what the men looked like; he used the survivors as models. Rene Gagnon, Ira Hayes, and John Bradley (who was later identified as Harold Schultz) actually sat for him. For the three men who died on the island—Franklin Sousley, Harlon Block, and Michael Strank—de Weldon used photographs and measurements to reconstruct their faces in clay.
The scale is hard to wrap your head around unless you're standing there. The figures are 32 feet tall. The flagpole is a 60-foot slab of brass. If the men were real, they’d be giants. Even the M1 Garand rifles and the carbines are scaled up to match the massive proportions.
When you look at the base, you’ll see the names of every major Marine Corps engagement since 1775. It’s not just about one hill in the Pacific. It’s a timeline of a branch of the military that prides itself on being the first ones through the door.
The Controversy of the "Flag Raisers"
For decades, we thought we knew exactly who was in that photo and, by extension, who was represented in the Iwo Jima flag statue.
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We were wrong.
The Marine Corps has had to officially change the identities of the men in the photo multiple times. For seventy years, everyone believed John Bradley was the guy in the middle. Turns out, it was actually Harold Schultz. Then, in 2019, another investigation revealed that Rene Gagnon wasn't where we thought he was either; it was actually Harold "Pie" Keller.
Does it matter? Honestly, it depends on who you ask.
For the families of the men who were misidentified, it was a massive deal. Imagine growing up believing your grandfather was the guy in the most famous statue in the world, only to find out he was actually a few feet to the left, or not in the frame at all. But for the Marine Corps, the statue represents the "uncommon valor" of the entire group, not just the six individuals.
Ira Hayes, one of the men correctly identified from the start, struggled immensely with the fame the statue brought him. He was a Pima Indian who just wanted to be a Marine, but he was hauled back to the States to sell war bonds. He hated it. He felt like a fake because his friends were still dying on the island while he was being treated like a celebrity for a "staged" photo (which it wasn't, but the "second flag" context made people think it was). He eventually died of exposure and alcohol poisoning, a tragic reminder that the men in the bronze are human beings, not just symbols.
Hidden Details You’ll Miss if You Don't Look Closely
If you make the trip to Arlington, don't just take a selfie and leave. There are things buried in the design that tell a deeper story.
- The M1 Garand: Look at the rifles. De Weldon spent an insane amount of time getting the webbing of the slings and the bolts exactly right. They aren't just "gun shapes." They are perfect replicas.
- The Canteens: Each man is carrying gear that matches what was standard issue in 1945. You can see the texture of the canvas pouches.
- The 13th Hand: There is a persistent urban legend that there are 13 hands on the statue, representing the 13 original colonies or a "hidden" hand of God. It's total nonsense. There are 12 hands. One for each of the six men. If you think you see an extra one, you’re likely just looking at a thumb or a fold in the sleeve that looks like a finger from a certain angle.
- The Base: The pedestal is made of Swedish black granite. It’s polished to a mirror finish. On it, you’ll find the words: "Uncommon Valor Was a Common Virtue." That was a quote from Admiral Chester Nimitz, and it’s basically the ethos of the entire Marine Corps.
Visiting the Statue: Pro-Tips for the Best Experience
Don't go at noon. Just don't. The sun hits the bronze in a way that washes out all the detail, and you'll be fighting three busloads of tourists from Ohio for a decent view.
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The best time to see the Iwo Jima flag statue is at night.
The lighting is incredible. The shadows emphasize the strain in the men's backs and the grip they have on the pole. Plus, it’s a lot quieter. You can actually hear the wind through the trees and get a sense of the solemnity the place deserves.
Also, if you're there during the summer, check the schedule for the "Sunset Parades." The Marine Drum and Bugle Corps and the Silent Drill Platoon perform right there at the base of the monument. It’s loud, it’s precise, and it’s probably the most "American" thing you’ll ever see. It usually happens on Tuesday evenings from late May through August.
Why the Statue Still Hits Hard in 2026
We live in an era where everything is digitized and ephemeral. We argue about everything. But there’s something about 100 tons of bronze and granite that forces you to stop.
The Iwo Jima flag statue isn't just about a victory in 1945. It’s about the sheer, grinding effort of human beings working together. It’s about the fact that three of the men who put that flag up never made it off that island alive.
When you stand there, you aren't just looking at a piece of art. You're looking at a physical manifestation of a moment where a bunch of kids from places like Harlingen, Texas, and Franklin, New Hampshire, did something impossible.
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
- Check the weather: The monument is completely outdoors with no cover. If it rains, you’re getting soaked.
- Park at the Netherlands Carillon: It’s right next door. You get to see two monuments for the price of one, and the bells are beautiful.
- Read "Flags of Our Fathers": If you want the real, gritty details of the men behind the bronze before you go, James Bradley’s book is the gold standard (even with the identity corrections).
- Walk the perimeter: Don't just stay in front. Walk all the way around the back to see the incredible detail in the boots and the gear packs.
- Respect the silence: It’s a memorial, not a playground. Keep the volume down.
The statue reminds us that history isn't a straight line. It’s messy. It’s full of misidentified heroes and second takes. But the courage? That part was real. You can see it in the bronze.