Hershel Woodrow Williams’ mind went as black as the beaches he had just stormed. Known affectionately as ‘Woody’, standing at a modest 168cm (5ft 6in) tall and having reached drinking age just few months prior, he struck an unlikely figure to be thrust into the fray at a time of immense peril. It was 23 February 1945, and American forces were faltering on the infamous Japanese island of Iwo Jima. A series of reinforced concrete pillboxes stood in the way of securing the first of two main airfields a short distance from the shore, each individual position staunchly defended by troops prepared to die for their cause. The Marines needed to fight fire with fire, leaving Williams, armed with his flamethrower and accompanied by five comrades, with the chance to stand tall.
The odds had rarely been in his favour, yet he had defied them at almost every turn. Born in Quiet Dell,
