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Robert Fisk Reads His Mail
Once a week, my mail package arrives from The Independent foreign
desk in London. It contains anything up to 250 letters and parcels,
and wherever I am – in the hot smog of Cairo, amid the Atlantis towers
of Dubai or on my own flower-smothered balcony in Beirut – I never
cease to be amazed.
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Fisk's Readers
Most letters are garbage but this one stood out.
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Kathie
Somervil-Ayrton Writes
A letter from Kathie
Somervil-Ayrton of Marienbad . She recalls an article I wrote about
the funeral of a Norwegian friend in a heavily Teutonic church in
Oslo, and the brief mention I made of the graves of wartime RAF crews
outside the entrance.
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The Legend Of Cyril Berger
In one of the ... war
graves you mention ... lies my Uncle Cyril Berger, lost on the
coast of Norway until, I understand, his aircraft and the bodies
of the crew were found much later.
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Cyril Was Just A Young Man
He couldn't wait for the Americans to get into WW2, so he joined
the RAF.
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His Momma
His mother begged him not to go, but rumors of cattle cars
going to Auschwitz infuriated him.
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An
American In The RAF
Cyril came from New York to
be trained as an airman ... and I was allowed to go with my father to
meet him at the station ... but now I am the last to remember him – so
vividly – and as I am 78 – when I die there will be no one left – this
is, of course, in the nature of things. But when, at 19, one dies for
one's country and what that country stands for – it should not pass
unnoticed if possible."
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His Last Mission
Shot down over the coast of Norway.
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The Luftwaffe Trembled
Nothing put fear in the hearts of the Messerschmitt 109 aces
like the these 'Boys from Brooklyn',
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