Marcus R. Humphrey

Marcus R. Humphrey, 89-1/2, of Gettysburg, passed away at Gettysburg Hospital on Thursday, Jan. 10, 2013. Mr. Humphrey was born in 1923 in Omaha, Neb., son of the late Marcus R. Humphrey Sr. and Mabel Frappia Humphrey. He graduated from Pawnee City High School in Pawnee City, Neb., in 1941. In the summer of 1941, he hitch-hiked to Canada to join the Royal Canadian Air Force. He was sent to England and served in the Royal Air Force 408 Squadron as a pilot of a Lancaster bomber. He flew 30…

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In Remembrance of 408 Squadron Members

In Remembrance of 408 Squadron Members   When the geese come back in the Spring And they learn that their friend has gone, I wonder will they take to wing And try to follow him on? When they look for their friend again As they’ve done in the years before, Will they stay with us who remain Or seek him the wide world o’er? They loved him, the young and the old, Wild geese and the whistling swan! What then, when the flocks are told The man who was kind…

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408’s Proud Banner

408’s Proud Banner Long may 408’s proud banner wave,       The banner that flew o’er the braveAs they flew in the dark of night  To keep the torch of freedom burning bright. Our bombers helped to vanquish those Who sought their jackboot to impose  Upon those fine, free men in many lands,  Who looked to us with pleading hands, To help them in their hour of need  And see that they, again, were freed. Nine hundred men have paid the price, Nine hundred more would do it twice. No price for…

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The 408 Squadron Groundcrew

The 408 Squadron Groundcrew Again the evening dusk doth deepen into dark, As the weary ground crew leave the aircraft, in its dispersal park, They’ve labored here since the early light of dawn, And soon the laden aircraft, once more, into the night is gone. They’ve labored here, day long, to patch each wounded plane, That returned to base in early morn; so it may fly again This night, and carry forth its dreaded load of fearful death, Perhaps, to be delivered with the aircrew men’s last breath. These ground…

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Requiem for a 408 Squadron Airman

Requiem for a 408 Squadron Airman   The nation sends its sons once more To fight for freedom on a foreign shore, They fly into the dark night sky To bomb their target, and, perhaps, to die These airman had no time to see The graves of their paternity, In Flanders fields, or otherwise, Before they died in the dark night skies. The briefing’s done its time to go, We’re off to Essen to see the show, And take a load of a nasty surprise, To drop it out of…

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