THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, February 19, 1995 TAG: 9502180025
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY PAM STARR, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 132 lines
IT WAS 9:20 a.m. on Feb. 19, 1945, and the beach at Iwo Jima was already strewn with dead U.S. Marines from the Fourth and Fifth divisions.
Twenty-two thousand Japanese soldiers were hiding in a labryinth of concrete bunkers, fortified caves and underground tunnels on the tiny island, about 750 miles south of Japan, and were defending it to the death.
Lawrence Farmer, a 22-year-old from Danville, Va., struggled to run forward in the soft volcanic ash amid the deafening mortar and artillery fire. His canvas backpack bulged with radio batteries. His military boots, soaked with salt water and packed with sand, felt like lead weights.
Farmer was an artillery forward observer, the most dangerous job in the artillery. He had to find targets for the gunners, radio back with the locations and give them directions.
He had advanced just 20 yards when a canister ball shot from a cannon struck the middle of his back, right over his spine.
``I felt like I was standing up and someone came up behind me with a baseball bat and hit me as hard as he could,'' says Farmer, now 72, while he sits in his Kempsville home and leafs through a photo album filled with pictures of the Pacific War. ``I let out a Hollywood scream like you wouldn't believe. It was such a hard explosion.''
He staggered back to the ship, helplessly watching fellow Marines drop from enemy fire. A man's hand exploded while he ran. One officer was blown in half trying to free his boat from the sand.
``It was like the worst war picture ever made,'' says Farmer, grimly. ``It was a good movie if you like the gruesome kind.''
The Battle of Iwo Jima is considered one of the most gruesome in Marine Corps history. After just two days of fighting, Marine casualties totaled more than 2,000.
It took nearly a month to capture the entire island. Japan knew that the U.S. Air Force wanted Iwo Jima as a landing spot for refueling B-29 bombers. In response, the Japanese fortified the island with artillery and anti-tank units. Nearly 25,000 Marines - 30 percent of the landing force - died or were wounded.
Farmer ended up on a hospital ship. While lying on a canvas stretcher he asked the doctor for an unusual favor. Not only did he want to have the canister ball - he keeps it in a jar to this day - but Farmer asked to be sent back to Iwo Jima.
A rumor had circulated through the ranks that the ship would sail to Australia. If that happened, explains Farmer, it would mean delays in getting his pay and mail. In addition, he would be separated from his friends.
``Man, I did not want to go to Australia,'' he recalls, shaking his head. ``You're like a person without a country. I had my dungarees and put them on over my pajamas. I went back and stayed with the guns. We still had Japanese who fired shells at us, but nothing real close to me.''
The Americans captured Iwo Jima on March 16. Farmer received a Purple Heart for his part in the battle. After the war he enrolled at the College of William and Mary and earned a sociology degree in 1951. PROTECTING THE POWERFUL
Since the Battle of Iwo Jima a half centry ago, Farmer has remained in the line of fire. He worked as a state parole officer until 1954, when the U.S. Secret Service accepted him as an agent.
``As a special agent, you're always on duty,'' he says. ``If anyone who was interviewing for a job asked me what the office hours were, I knew he wasn't suitable.''
Autographed pictures of famous figures line the office walls, like a fascinating personal account of who's who in world politics: Dwight D. Eisenhower, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, Richard M. Nixon, Gerald R. Ford, Jimmy Carter, Karl Gustav of Sweden, the shah of Iran, Emperor Hirohito and Empress Nagako of Japan.
Farmer, chuckling, points out that he would have been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor had he killed the emperor 50 years ago. In an interesting twist of fate, Farmer found himself in charge of security for the emperor's visit to Williamsburg in 1975.
``That's the irony of it,'' he says, his blue eyes twinkling. ``But it was my job to provide the best security possible. We were a little worried about what might happen - we knew there was some anti-Japanese sentiment.
``I considered it the most dangerous visit we ever had. But we gave him excellent security - nothing happened.''
Farmer remembers dining with two Japanese policemen in a restaurant at the time. The foreigners asked Farmer if he had been in the Pacific during the war and he said yes. They nodded slowly and sat back in their chairs.
Unable to resist a little mischief, Farmer yelled in Japanese: ``Come out with your hands up! Do not be afraid!'' The men raised their arms overhead, eyes wide with surprise.
He laughs at the memory. ``It was the only phrase I remembered in Japanese,'' he says. ``We had a good laugh together.''
The emperor even played Cupid, in a way, with Farmer and his second wife, Gudrun, nicknamed ``Pety.'' She was the estate manager for Nelson Rockefeller and was invited to a dinner in Williamsburg for Hirohito. Farmer was there, of course, and became enamored of the vivacious, dark-haired widow. They wed two years later and stayed married for 13 years, until her death in 1990.
``We used to like to tell people that we met through the Emperor of Japan,'' he says, smiling.
Farmer's favorite president was Richard Nixon, because of his graciousness and easy-going manner. Jimmy Carter was a ``pleasant fellow, down-to-earth.'' The Kennedys were well-liked among the agents, too. Jack and Jackie, as Farmer calls them, allowed the agents to raid the refrigerator at the Palm Beach estate.
``But we weren't there to socialize,'' he adds. ``We were there to protect them.''
Farmer retired from the Secret Service in 1978. But the urge to serve stayed with him. He had investigated thousands of documents through handwriting analysis as an agent and parlayed that expertise into another career. He has been working as an examiner of questioned documents ever since and conducts studies mostly for attorneys, doctors and law enforcement officials to be used in trials.
But at this time every year Farmer's thoughts turn to the Battle of Iwo Jima, though he says he doesn't like to dwell on the past. He's a member of the Fourth Division Association and organized a reunion last June at a local restaurant with 16 veterans and their wives. Today he's going to call four of the men he served with.
``You feel particularly close to anyone who was wounded,'' he says. ``Everyone who landed on Iwo Jima never forgets that day.'' ILLUSTRATION: MORT FRYMAN/Staff color photos
Farmer displays the canister ball that struck him, top, and tells of
surprising two Japanese policemen years later: ``Come out with your
hands up! Do not be afraid!''
Graphic
JOHN EARLE/Staff
IWO JIMA
SOURCE: The West Point Atlas of American Wars, Naval Institute
Proceedings
by CNB