The following is from the book "Attlebridge Arsenal, The Men and Aircraft of the 466th Bomb Group" by Earl Wassom and Chris Brassfield
"Sir, Madame,
I have not the pleasure of being known by you. Allow me then to introduce myself: John Bourdouche,farmer. Queue-du-Bois (Liege, Belgium). It was in my home that your son Robert took refuge on the 19th of June after a forced landing in Holland. It was in my home that he lived, hidden, but surrounded by attentions and affections that every good Belgian owes the citizens of free America.
It was in my home that he spent his days talking to me about you, telling me of his great joy when finally he would be able to see you again. It was at my home, alas, that he died, the 7th of September, without suffering, struck by a stray German bullet (that was certainly not meant for him) a few hours before the arrival of the American Army.
I closed his eyes. My wife and I wept for him very much. Wasn't he a little bit of our family? Hundreds of persons accompanied him to the cemetery in our village. The coffin was completely covered by a heap of flowers, a tribute of admiration and gratitude to Lt. Garrett who symbolized the valiant American Army, which twice, in less than thirty years, has crossed the ocean to deliver us from the German yoke.
May my letter somewhat lessen your grief, which I know is deep.
Please accept, Sir, Madam, the expression of my deep sympathy, of my admiration and my eternal gratitude."
John Bourdouche, Belgian farmer and member of the resistance.
The following is from the book "Attlebridge Arsenal, The Men and Aircraft of the 466th Bomb Group" by Earl Wassom and Chris Brassfield
"Sir, Madame,
I have not the pleasure of being known by you. Allow me then to introduce myself: John Bourdouche,farmer. Queue-du-Bois (Liege, Belgium). It was in my home that your son Robert took refuge on the 19th of June after a forced landing in Holland. It was in my home that he lived, hidden, but surrounded by attentions and affections that every good Belgian owes the citizens of free America.
It was in my home that he spent his days talking to me about you, telling me of his great joy when finally he would be able to see you again. It was at my home, alas, that he died, the 7th of September, without suffering, struck by a stray German bullet (that was certainly not meant for him) a few hours before the arrival of the American Army.
I closed his eyes. My wife and I wept for him very much. Wasn't he a little bit of our family? Hundreds of persons accompanied him to the cemetery in our village. The coffin was completely covered by a heap of flowers, a tribute of admiration and gratitude to Lt. Garrett who symbolized the valiant American Army, which twice, in less than thirty years, has crossed the ocean to deliver us from the German yoke.
May my letter somewhat lessen your grief, which I know is deep.
Please accept, Sir, Madam, the expression of my deep sympathy, of my admiration and my eternal gratitude."
John Bourdouche, Belgian farmer and member of the resistance.
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