Do not forget us
On this Memorial Day, we bow our heads in reverence to the countless Armenian American heroes who sacrificed everything—leaving behind their homes, their families and the futures they once dreamed of. They rest in cemeteries across the United States and around the world, while many others remain lost to the sea, the earth and the skies they once soared. Their lives are woven into the very fabric of our freedom, and their memory is carried by the winds that blow across distant lands.
Among them is Second Lieutenant Harry Kasbarian—a young man whose future vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving only heartbroken parents, devastated friends and a country forever indebted to his sacrifice.
Born on December 30, 1920, in Long Island City, New York, Harry was the beloved son of Aram and Sirvart Kasbarian—Armenian refugees who had witnessed the worst of humanity during the Armenian Genocide. After enduring unimaginable pain, they carried their sorrow across the Atlantic Ocean, hoping to give their children a better life in the United States. To them, Harry was a treasure, a true gift from God, and a reason to believe that, despite everything they had suffered, life could still offer happiness and hope.
Harry had the aspirations of any teenager—thinking about falling in love, figuring out who he was, enjoying time with friends and dreaming of someday achieving his goals, making his parents proud and showing the world what he was capable of.
When World War II broke out, Harry knew what he had to do. Like so many Armenian Americans, he understood that liberty was fragile—easily lost and worth any sacrifice. As a navigator with the 715th Bombardment Squadron, 448th Bombardment Group of the U.S. Army Air Forces, he flew into battle, fully aware of the peril. Bomber crews had a life expectancy that was heartbreakingly short, yet Harry pressed on—driven by duty and love for the country that had given his family refuge, and by the silent, unspoken prayers of his parents, echoing in his heart.
On January 5, 1944, during a mission to bomb German manufacturing factories in Kiel, Harry’s B-24 bomber was struck by enemy anti-aircraft fire. Explosions ripped through the aircraft, smoke poured from the engines, and the bomber began its final descent. In an instant, it crashed into the frigid waters of the Baltic Sea, vanishing beneath the waves. Harry was only 23 years old. His body was never recovered.
Today, his name is inscribed on the Wall of the Missing at the Cambridge American Cemetery in England—a remembrance wall stretching nearly 500 feet and bearing the names of 5,127 heroes who gave everything they had for our freedom.
For Harry’s parents, January 5, 1944 became a day frozen in time—a haunting marker of what the war had stolen from them. For the rest of their lives, they carried the grief of losing their son. Aram passed away on November 10, 1972, and Sirvart followed on March 6, 1984, holding a heartache only a mother would know. Now, they rest, side by side, at Cedar Grove Cemetery in Flushing, New York.
As I write this tribute, I can’t help but imagine Harry—and all those young men who never grew old—watching us. I imagine them standing among us, unseen but present, looking at the world they fought for—the children laughing in playgrounds, lovers embracing beneath fireworks and families gathering at dinner tables. They see friends sharing stories in bars and the sun setting over cities filled with life. They see flags waving proudly in the breeze—symbols of the country they died to defend. They witness weddings, births, anniversaries—moments of joy and love that they never got to celebrate. They see us living, breathing, loving—everything they lost, everything they gave to us.
And as they look at us, what would they say? Would they smile, knowing their sacrifice was not in vain? Would they weep for the life they never had? Or perhaps they would whisper, “Do not waste this gift. Do not forget us.”
Today, and every single day, we must live in a way that honors them.
Live in a way that echoes their courage.
Live in a way that justifies their sacrifice.
Live in a way that makes them proud.
Live in a way that whispers: “We remember you.”
John Dekhane
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These stories must be told, again and again. RIP Harry Kasbarian. We remember you.
This brought me to tears. What a moving piece. Thank you, John.
Amazing job. Thanks John, for all the hours you put to make those researches.
Such a sad and touching article describing great sacrifice. My parents and grandparents are buried at Cedar Grove and at my next visit I will leave a remembrance at the Kasbarian gravesite as well.
The story of this young brave soldier is heartbreaking, I thank you John for honoring him. And all of the other men and women lost to this awful war. May we never forget them .
Thank you, Lt. Harry Kasbarian for your service and ultimate sacrifice. May you rest easy♡
Thank you for your service and ultimate sacrifice Lt. Harry Kasbarian, may you Rest in Eternal peace♡