On July 6, 1944, 21 year old Robert J. Rubel, a pilot in the 428th Fighter Squadron, flew his 22nd and last mission. It was the second mission of the day when he and his element leader were attacked by four FW-190's. Robert's P-38 was hit, caught on fire, and exploded in a fireball several hundred feet above the ground.
Before leaving home for England he wrote this poignant letter to his family.
Though all our hearts must break, our spirits never will,
Though so we must die, our ideals live forever.
Though many will be trampled underfoot,
Never the things for which we have fought.
These words of hope, of light, and courage, I send you in these days that see you grieving so much more than I shall grieve again.
As I write today, not really believing that what I write will be read by anyone, yet not quite ignoring the possibility that it might be, I am forced to stop and wonder over the world that will follow this period of adjustment; the world for which I was ready to die; the world that I may never see. Make it good - - it is your task - - it is my prayer.
There is now no time for remorse. We were caught in a great tide of misunderstanding. We were victims of that tide. I went forth, bravely, I believe, to hold off the tide; beat it back; make sure that man would never again fall victim to international hate. If I have died as bravely as I went forth to die, and in doing so accomplished to a greater or less extent the task that motivated me, then I have died happily, knowing that I have fulfilled my destiny.
As we look about us and note the sudden and tremendous turmoil that has visited all mankind, we cannot but realize that this is a part of a great and universal plan from which must come great and universal good. It has been my privilege to be a servant of this readjustment.
My words of parting this time must be as inadequate as they were the first time I left my home and loved ones for a new and great adventure. They can never tell of my love, my gratefulness for the things that were made available to me, of my joy in living, of the peace and happiness that were mine.
Let the Words of my Lips
And the Meditations of my Heart
Be Acceptable in Thy Sight O Lord
Who art my Rock and my Redeemer.
Bob Rubel
Before leaving home for England he wrote this poignant letter to his family.
Though all our hearts must break, our spirits never will,
Though so we must die, our ideals live forever.
Though many will be trampled underfoot,
Never the things for which we have fought.
These words of hope, of light, and courage, I send you in these days that see you grieving so much more than I shall grieve again.
As I write today, not really believing that what I write will be read by anyone, yet not quite ignoring the possibility that it might be, I am forced to stop and wonder over the world that will follow this period of adjustment; the world for which I was ready to die; the world that I may never see. Make it good - - it is your task - - it is my prayer.
There is now no time for remorse. We were caught in a great tide of misunderstanding. We were victims of that tide. I went forth, bravely, I believe, to hold off the tide; beat it back; make sure that man would never again fall victim to international hate. If I have died as bravely as I went forth to die, and in doing so accomplished to a greater or less extent the task that motivated me, then I have died happily, knowing that I have fulfilled my destiny.
As we look about us and note the sudden and tremendous turmoil that has visited all mankind, we cannot but realize that this is a part of a great and universal plan from which must come great and universal good. It has been my privilege to be a servant of this readjustment.
My words of parting this time must be as inadequate as they were the first time I left my home and loved ones for a new and great adventure. They can never tell of my love, my gratefulness for the things that were made available to me, of my joy in living, of the peace and happiness that were mine.
Let the Words of my Lips
And the Meditations of my Heart
Be Acceptable in Thy Sight O Lord
Who art my Rock and my Redeemer.
Bob Rubel
On July 6, 1944, 21 year old Robert J. Rubel, a pilot in the 428th Fighter Squadron, flew his 22nd and last mission. It was the second mission of the day when he and his element leader were attacked by four FW-190's. Robert's P-38 was hit, caught on fire, and exploded in a fireball several hundred feet above the ground.
Before leaving home for England he wrote this poignant letter to his family.
Though all our hearts must break, our spirits never will,
Though so we must die, our ideals live forever.
Though many will be trampled underfoot,
Never the things for which we have fought.
These words of hope, of light, and courage, I send you in these days that see you grieving so much more than I shall grieve again.
As I write today, not really believing that what I write will be read by anyone, yet not quite ignoring the possibility that it might be, I am forced to stop and wonder over the world that will follow this period of adjustment; the world for which I was ready to die; the world that I may never see. Make it good - - it is your task - - it is my prayer.
There is now no time for remorse. We were caught in a great tide of misunderstanding. We were victims of that tide. I went forth, bravely, I believe, to hold off the tide; beat it back; make sure that man would never again fall victim to international hate. If I have died as bravely as I went forth to die, and in doing so accomplished to a greater or less extent the task that motivated me, then I have died happily, knowing that I have fulfilled my destiny.
As we look about us and note the sudden and tremendous turmoil that has visited all mankind, we cannot but realize that this is a part of a great and universal plan from which must come great and universal good. It has been my privilege to be a servant of this readjustment.
My words of parting this time must be as inadequate as they were the first time I left my home and loved ones for a new and great adventure. They can never tell of my love, my gratefulness for the things that were made available to me, of my joy in living, of the peace and happiness that were mine.
Let the Words of my Lips
And the Meditations of my Heart
Be Acceptable in Thy Sight O Lord
Who art my Rock and my Redeemer.
Bob Rubel
Before leaving home for England he wrote this poignant letter to his family.
Though all our hearts must break, our spirits never will,
Though so we must die, our ideals live forever.
Though many will be trampled underfoot,
Never the things for which we have fought.
These words of hope, of light, and courage, I send you in these days that see you grieving so much more than I shall grieve again.
As I write today, not really believing that what I write will be read by anyone, yet not quite ignoring the possibility that it might be, I am forced to stop and wonder over the world that will follow this period of adjustment; the world for which I was ready to die; the world that I may never see. Make it good - - it is your task - - it is my prayer.
There is now no time for remorse. We were caught in a great tide of misunderstanding. We were victims of that tide. I went forth, bravely, I believe, to hold off the tide; beat it back; make sure that man would never again fall victim to international hate. If I have died as bravely as I went forth to die, and in doing so accomplished to a greater or less extent the task that motivated me, then I have died happily, knowing that I have fulfilled my destiny.
As we look about us and note the sudden and tremendous turmoil that has visited all mankind, we cannot but realize that this is a part of a great and universal plan from which must come great and universal good. It has been my privilege to be a servant of this readjustment.
My words of parting this time must be as inadequate as they were the first time I left my home and loved ones for a new and great adventure. They can never tell of my love, my gratefulness for the things that were made available to me, of my joy in living, of the peace and happiness that were mine.
Let the Words of my Lips
And the Meditations of my Heart
Be Acceptable in Thy Sight O Lord
Who art my Rock and my Redeemer.
Bob Rubel
Inscription
2LT 474 FTR GP CALIFORNIA
Gravesite Details
Entered the service from California
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
Advertisement
