Mostly, this documentary consists of interviews with five surviving members of Company K, a Marine unit that landed on Peleliu Island in the South Pacific and fought for about a month in nearly unbearable heat and humidity, against an enemy that outnumbered them and was fully prepared to die.
Their names are R.V. Bergin, Jay de l'Eau, Roy Kelly, William Leyden, Eugene Sledge, all enlisted men who knew one another chiefly by their nicknames -- Snuffy, Sledgehammer, Snafu. It's a common part of a rite of passage: When you join a small solidary group, you receive a different name. It was all very personal.
The misery these men experienced is almost indescribable. And the men talk in detail -- nicely edited -- about exactly what they observed and how they felt. The Marine Corps is a finely tuned elite assault force, and the Japanese were dedicated warriors. As Sledge puts it, "It was like two scorpions in a bottle." There are interpolated scenes of combat and some still photos. The documentary doesn't shy away from showing bodies crawling with flies or washing about on the beach, including Marines.
What's missing is the context of the fight for this two by six Golgotha. It wasn't necessary and was mishandled at the top. The Americans were intent on depriving Japan of the use of the island and its air field as a staging area for attacks on MacArthur's flank as he moved past it. But the Japanese never had any such plans, and when the island was finally taken the Allies never used it either.
In command of the Marines was General Rupertus. He had broken an ankle and was aboard one of the transports off shore and remote from the goings on. When the Marines ran up against a brick wall in the carefully designed enemy defenses, when they fell back spent, Ruptertus ordered another attack the next day, as if they were fresh troops. He treated units that had suffered more than 50% casualties as if they were whole, entire, eager to go. In this one respect he resembled Adolf Hitler in the last days of the Reich, ordering nonexistent divisions here and there. When reenforcements arrived from the US Army, Ruptertus sent them to a peaceful neighboring island because Marines needed no help from the US Army. He castigated the troops for moving too slowly -- three days was the deadline for taking the island, while in fact it took months. Not to impugn Reputus' judgment excessively. He was far from the action and there is a difference between substance and perception.
Both combatants on Peleliu must be considered among the bravest men who have ever lived. Yet the sacrifices themselves, which we hear about from these survivors, were unnecessary as, in a way, all wars are. Human culture has generated great achievements in the arts and sciences. Some are better than others. But the one constant through all of human history has been warfare. It's as if culture suffered from a chronic disease with frequent flare ups. It's a systemic problem but the people who pay the price are those we now call "boots on the ground."
Their names are R.V. Bergin, Jay de l'Eau, Roy Kelly, William Leyden, Eugene Sledge, all enlisted men who knew one another chiefly by their nicknames -- Snuffy, Sledgehammer, Snafu. It's a common part of a rite of passage: When you join a small solidary group, you receive a different name. It was all very personal.
The misery these men experienced is almost indescribable. And the men talk in detail -- nicely edited -- about exactly what they observed and how they felt. The Marine Corps is a finely tuned elite assault force, and the Japanese were dedicated warriors. As Sledge puts it, "It was like two scorpions in a bottle." There are interpolated scenes of combat and some still photos. The documentary doesn't shy away from showing bodies crawling with flies or washing about on the beach, including Marines.
What's missing is the context of the fight for this two by six Golgotha. It wasn't necessary and was mishandled at the top. The Americans were intent on depriving Japan of the use of the island and its air field as a staging area for attacks on MacArthur's flank as he moved past it. But the Japanese never had any such plans, and when the island was finally taken the Allies never used it either.
In command of the Marines was General Rupertus. He had broken an ankle and was aboard one of the transports off shore and remote from the goings on. When the Marines ran up against a brick wall in the carefully designed enemy defenses, when they fell back spent, Ruptertus ordered another attack the next day, as if they were fresh troops. He treated units that had suffered more than 50% casualties as if they were whole, entire, eager to go. In this one respect he resembled Adolf Hitler in the last days of the Reich, ordering nonexistent divisions here and there. When reenforcements arrived from the US Army, Ruptertus sent them to a peaceful neighboring island because Marines needed no help from the US Army. He castigated the troops for moving too slowly -- three days was the deadline for taking the island, while in fact it took months. Not to impugn Reputus' judgment excessively. He was far from the action and there is a difference between substance and perception.
Both combatants on Peleliu must be considered among the bravest men who have ever lived. Yet the sacrifices themselves, which we hear about from these survivors, were unnecessary as, in a way, all wars are. Human culture has generated great achievements in the arts and sciences. Some are better than others. But the one constant through all of human history has been warfare. It's as if culture suffered from a chronic disease with frequent flare ups. It's a systemic problem but the people who pay the price are those we now call "boots on the ground."
