Sixty-seven years ago seems like yesterday, says Marine Corps veteran Felix Phillip “Doc” Peter, 89, a trained corpsman who with fellow soldiers faced heavy fire from enemy Japanese during World War II – a conflagration that ended 67 years ago.

He recently said battles on the islands of Iwo Jima and Saipan stand out most vividly in his memory. The Merrimack man, raised in the Boston area, was, back then, a member of Company B, Fourth Engineers. He was one of thousands of American troops who in 1945 spent much of February and March clawing their way through enemy strongholds.

Iwo Jima, translated as Sulpher Island in Japanese, was a hot spot some 650 miles south of Japan. Iwo Jima’s highest point is Mount Suribachi, an extinct volcanic peak. No natural water sources existed on the island. Sparse, brittle vegetation, hidden caves and deep volcanic sand were hostile elements.

Hospital Apprentice 1st Class Peter, a Navy-trained pharmacists mate, was a part of wartime action for four years, after completing boot camp at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. The camp’s expanse of 156,000 acres and 11 miles of beaches accommodated at times more than 40,000 Marines.

Peter was busy tending fallen soldiers near the summit of Mount Suribachi when, after more than a month of raging battles, fellow Marines nearby scrambled up the craggy peak to plant the American Flag.

A re-enactment on Feb. 23, 1945, using a larger flag – one visible from anywhere on the island – was captured on film by award-winning AP photographer Joe Rosenthal, then age 33. Rosenthal died at age 94 in 2006, but his photo lives on as a true depiction of Marine Corps spirit.

Peter said the iconic photo pays “real tribute” to the troops’ tenacity during the intense 36-day battle on Iwo Jima. Rosenthal’s obituary published in The San Francisco Chronicle, Aug 21, 2006, notes that 6,621 Americans died and 19,217 others were wounded. Japanese combatants numbered some 22,000. A scant 1,083 lived to witness the American victory, said the report.

“On Iwo, the enemy would get us from up high – in the caves,” Peter said. ”You could be 10 feet away from someone in the company and he’d get a bullet. I’d be helping one guy and running back to loosen a tourniquet on another. You were vulnerable to bombs or bullets any place you went.”

Peter, who recently shared his experiences with students from the National Honor Society at Merrimack High School, had reason to come home alive. He married his wife, Dorothea, in 1942 – 65 years ago. The lady that folks call “Dolly” is now a retired nurse who for some 18 years tended students at Tufts University. Five grown sons and daughters are also glad their dad survived. Peter was later employed in the U.S. Postal Service.

He also volunteered for many years with Goodwill Associates’ Fresh Air Camps for youth. Peter was also a guest speaker at Bishop Guertin High School about two years ago.

“Age doesn’t matter to me at all,” said Peter, whose son Robert is an Army veteran with tenure in Vietnam. Peter also is the grandfather of Florida resident Britton Stoakes, 22, an Army veteran with tours in Afghanistan to his credit.

“I got wounded more than once in those four years,” Peter said. “Got blown out of a bomb crater and sent to a military hospital. They found out I also had hookworms and Dengue Fever, spread by mosquitoes. I’d been in Saipan and it was all jungle.”

A newspaper account from The Boston Daily Globe of March 19, 1945, reveals a bit of Peter’s Saipan adventures. He won a Bronze Star there for his actions as the anchor man on a three-man, human chain dangling over the mouth of an enemy-occupied cave. Japanese soldiers were inside the cave, picking off troops down below.

Peter and two fellow Marines, G.S. Murphy of Philadelphia and Charles C. Bucek of McKees Rocks, Penn., clambered to the top of the cave. Heavy sniper fire shattered the rocks around them.

The published account, penned by Sgt. Jack Vincent, combat correspondent, states, “Bucek asked Murphy to hold his feet and started over. He crawled until he was dangling head downward over the cliff. At this point, Hospital Apprentice First Class Felix P. Peter figured it would be better to prevent a casualty than to treat one later and helped Murphy hold Bucek. Hanging downward, Bucek tossed several grenades into the cave and put the finishing touches to it with a heavy charge of explosive.”

Historical accounts from the Department of the Navy and many other sources give credence to Peter’s recollections. Saipan action is well chronicled. Peter caught a bullet in the hip there but his canteen deflected the projectile. The struggle on Iwo Jima is more famous.

According to the texts, the long encounter on Iwo Jima was marked by non-stop action. December 1944 marked the beginning of 74 straight days of aerial bombings meant to soften up the target. Amphibious landing forces delivered the 3rd, 4th and 5th Marine Divisions to the island.

Suicide pilots, Kamikaze, assaulted off-shore support ships. Troops cleared air fields, opening the way on March 4 for the first B-29 bombers to land. The 15th Fighter Group of the U.S. Air Force arrived March 6. The island absorbed ammunition by the ton. Nevertheless, the Japanese persisted in launching ever more manic attacks, including a night-time attack on March 8 that was stifled by the Fourth Division.

Peter said American troops made good use of gunboats, mortars, observation planes and intelligence reports. Air assaults, naval gunfire and artillery bombardments increased. White phosphorus smoke shrouded the island in a caustic mist.

Military websites note that on March 20, 1945, the Fifth Division squelched the last of the resistors. The Army’s 147th Infantry already had established a garrison. March 26 brought word that full control of Iwo Jima was a done deal.

“We were stronger,” Peter said. “Our men were bigger than they were. Our tanks were bigger than theirs. We were able to overpower them, eventually. I was on the front lines. Today, I think of what could have happened – and I’m happy. I can take a walk. I can talk to people. Everybody in town calls me ‘Doc.’ Not much bothers me now.”

Peter smiles as he lifts his old helmet off a table at his home. The helmet is heavy – 4 pounds – and covered in green camouflage fabric. His old, rectangular, medical kit bears scratches and dents.

He opens some boxes containing insignias, ribbons, awards – and a handwritten letter of thanks from a woman whose husband he saved on Iwo Jima. The man, Marine 2nd Lt. William G. Piper, had been wounded by mortar shrapnel. Peter knelt over him and administered plasma while shells burst all around them.

Among the other treasures are two Purple Heart medals, an American Campaign medal, an Asiatic-Pacific Campaign medal with 2 bronze stars, 2 Bronze Star medals with combat “V” devices, a Navy Unit Commendation ribbon, 2 Presidential Unit Citation ribbons, a World War II Victory Medal, an Honorable Service Lapel Button and a Combat Action ribbon.

“I’ve kind of held all of this back for years,” said “Doc” Peter. “Those Marines were brave and tough. Lots of them did way more than I ever did. I just wanted to help. I’ll be 90 in May and I still say I enjoy every day.”