Showing posts with label World War Two. Show all posts
Showing posts with label World War Two. Show all posts
"Wake up Marx We gotta go!" his co-pilot R.K Locker shouted in his ear, as he shook Robert furiously out of haste but mostly out of fear of what would take place in the next 3 hours.
"Really? Where are they sending us this time?" Robert asks out of excitement at the prospect of completing his 20th mission.
"I don't know. Captain just told us to get our butts out of bed and skedaddle down to the briefing room."
At that Robert Marx jumped out of bed, ready for the new adventure that awaited them.  He had flown 19 missions before and landed his plane safely every time and this time he planned to do the same, but with even more caution since it would be his 20th mission and he wanted to do it well. Locker and Marx ran down to the briefing room along with several others from their squad. They sat in the briefing room with the captain for 1 hour. They were being sent over to France from Norwich England to go support the Battle of the Bulge and bring relief to other planes. The captain went over every logistic of how they were to fly, how high they were to fly and when to drop the bombs with them before each man of the squad, 7 in all, went to the locker room to suit up.
"Are you ready Marx?" Pettigrew the left wing gunner asked tenatively.
"Yeah...they are just Germans. Well' be ok." Robert replied affirmatingley.
They walked out onto the air strip as the bombs were being loaded into the belly of the B-24 along with several boxes of extra bullets for the gunners. The B-24 could hold up to 8000 pounds of bombs in its belly. Robert and his men saluted the American flag flying high in the sky and climbed into thier plane positions. Marx was pilot so he got into the cockpit, and ajusted his head gear to hear what the control tower crew had to say.
"Marx, everything is clear. Be awful careful of the fog, it seems to be getting heavier by the minute."
"Roger that Yale. I'll be alright."
Marx revved up the engines, ready for the thrill flying gave him. He taxied down the runway and turned around ready to go. He checked with the crew to make sure they were ready and floured the engine. Immediatley the plane started roaring and speeding down the runway. It started flying into the air with a surge of power and then fell back to the ground again.
"Marx, is everything all right?" the voice over the com cracked.
"Hopefully. Our old plane here isn't wanting to fly into the sky today," Robert replied with his usual wit. He tried again to bring the plane up into the sky, but failed. Robert looked around in a panic. They were nearing the end of the runway and the plane should have been flying right now, but instead it was still speeding towards the end. He looked around at the crew's anxious faces and tried one last time to bring thier plane up into the sky. But to no avail. The plane did not have enough power to surge thorough the heavy fog and it rammed straight into a row of trees at the end of the runway. The impact from the trees forced the bombs to explode and 5000 pounds of raw power killed every man on that plane. My great-great uncle tried his hardest, but in the end he lost the fight. But he left a memory for me and all my family of never giving up. Robert Marx, you will never be forgotten.

A part from one of the crewman's jackets. Maybe Robert's.

The cross dedicated to the crew that is placed in the field where they crashed.



His grave at Cambridge Cemetary in England






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