Letters | Iwo Jima

Forty years later, a Japanese construction crew, digging a foundation for a memorial, found the tunnel. Among the rusted canteens and bleached bones, a backhoe operator named Sato saw a small leather pouch. It crumbled at his touch. But inside, pressed against a decayed strip of cloth, was a paper square.

A distant crump of a mortar made the tunnel rain dust. A young soldier, no older than sixteen, whimpered in the dark. Haruo ignored him. He had only enough paper for this one letter. letters iwo jima

That evening, he walked down to the black-sand beach of Iwo Jima. The sun was setting, turning the Pacific into molten gold. He took the letter, held it in his palm for a long moment, then let the wind take it. Forty years later, a Japanese construction crew, digging

Dear Mother,