The beginning and ending of this film involves some scholars seeking knowledge about a war with shovels and archeological care.
Back in 1995 I read a long article in the New Yorker about shallow graves around Stalingrad. It seems there were thousands and thousands of soldiers to be covered in 1945 and now the wind, rain, and erosion are forcing some souvenirs into the daylight. Among them were many mail pouches of outgoing letters from German soldiers to their families. There was even some effort to deliver those letters 50 years late, when possible.
After viewing Clint Eastwood’s Japanese film my ersatz grandson said, “why didn’t the headquarters in Japan send help to the soldiers on Iwo Jima?” I tried to explain to this child of excess that in 1945 there was nothing left in Japan to send except radio waves of a children’s chorus singing praises for the warrior protectors of their homes.
My wife’s uncle was one of the 21,000 dead soldiers on this little island in 1945.
