Sad News – RIP Ray Parke...

I was checking my non-work email accounts the other day prior to the new term and found that I had received an email from Fraser Gambling on January 13th, bits of which I reproduce below:

“Hi Robert,
Last Tuesday, January 12th 2025, our great friend, Ray, passed away at the Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital 3 months short of his 100th birthday.”

This is of course sad news. Ray Parke was the last surviving member of George “Dig” Klenner’s 218 Squadron crew and featured in The Eighth Passenger written by by Bomb Aimer Miles Tripp (first published in 1969, revised 1985 and 1993).

Klenner Crew, 218 Squadron,March 1945
The 218 Squadron Klenner crew, photographed on 11 March 1945 after completing their 40th and final operational flight.
From L-R Miles “Mike” Tripp (Bomb Aimer), Ray Parke (Flight Engineer), George Bell, (Navigator), George “Dig” Klenner (Pilot), Paul Songest (M/U Gunner), Les Walker (Wireless Op), Harry McCalla (Rear Gunner).

Fraser mentioned that a while ago Ray had found a poem in one of his old 218 Squadron Association Newsletters and asked Fraser to include it in a message about his passing.

I confess I’d never seen it before, so I looked it up. The poem is “Remember Me” and was written by none other than American cultural anthropologist, author and speaker Margaret Mead (1901 – 1978)

The copyright implications of reproducing an artistic work not yet in the Public Domain are a a little dodgy despite the words having been reproduced all over the Web. Here is a link to the poem on the website poemist.com which happens to be one of the better visual renditions of the text.

Ray Parke in the rear of Lancaster Mark X KB889 at the Imperial War Museum Duxford in March 2023 with a view of the infamous Elsan chemical toilet. (Photo by Fraser Gambling – used with permission.

I am deeply touched me that Fraser did mention me to Ray and said he’d been in touch with me following up my earlier blog articles on The Eighth Passenger. I’m happy to play some small part in keeping those memories alive. As Margaret Mead said in the last line of her poem: “For if you always think of me, I will never be gone”

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