Two Friends from Texas

A slender, 19-year-old marine reported for duty last week at the carpenter shop of Camp Pendleton, Calif. For one of the mightiest small fights in World War II, Pfc. Andrew Jackson ("Duke") Carter Jr. of Paducah, Tex. had only one mark to show; he had a deep red scar on his right hand.

In Mare Island Naval Hospital, 450 miles to the north, lay 22-year-old Sergeant William George Harrell, Carter's best friend and doughty ally in the fight. Sergeant Harrell had no hands.

The night they made Marine history, Carter and Harrell were riflemen of Company A of the 5th Division's 28th Marines--the regiment that planted the flags on Mt. Suribachi. It was March 2, long after Suribachi had been secured, and the 28th had moved into the line along the steep ravines of northern Iwo.

Before dark the two men dug their foxhole. One slept an hour while the other watched; then they swapped.

About 5 a.m. Harrell was awakened by rifle fire near his ear. By the light of the yellow star shells he saw Carter firing away at four Japs who had tried to filter through the line. They lay where they fell, ten feet away.

More Japs came. Harrell killed two with his carbine, at 25 yards. Another Jap popped into the ravine below. Carter got him. Then his Garand jammed.

The Grenades. While Pfc. Carter ran back a few yards to get another rifle from the company command post, the enemy started tossing hand grenades. One landed inside the foxhole. Harrell tried to find it and throw it back. It blew off his left hand. His left thigh was broken, too, and he bled from many wounds made by fragments of the grenade.

As Carter came back into the foxhole, two Japs charged. Carter fired twice, but his new rifle jammed, too. He grabbed a Jap rifle, yesterday's souvenir, and impaled one of the attackers on its bayonet. The other Jap swung his saber, split Carter's hand. But Bill Harrell still had one hand left. He raised the carbine, shot the saber-waving Jap.

Another Rifle. Carter ran back to get another rifle. While he was gone two Japs got into the foxhole. Harrell seemed to be dying, so the Japs tapped a grenade, left it beside his head. But Harrell had a little left. He pushed the grenade away from him with his remaining hand. The explosion took his hand off. It also killed the Japs.

When Duke Carter returned, the Japs had given up trying. As Bill Harrell was carried away he opened his eyes and muttered: "Get that saber for me." Carter got it, sent it home to his friend's mother in Mercedes, Tex.

After daylight other marines counted the dead Japs around the foxhole. There were twelve.

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