08/29/2026
During World War II, 20-year-old U.S. Army Air Forces Sgt. Henry “Harry” Younge enjoyed playing his trumpet for his B-29 bomber crew during bombing missions from Guam to Japan. His trumpet skills even landed him a performance on the radio show “Time to Smile,” which was scheduled to broadcast live from Guam on April 24, 1945. Unfortunately, Younge was never able to share a single note with his fellow Americans.
Nine days earlier, Younge was manning the tail gun during a night raid over Tokyo when Japanese anti-aircraft fire tore into his bomber. Despite damage and flames, Younge’s pilot continued to target and dropped their bombs, but as fire spread, the B-29 lost altitude. When the pilot ordered the crew to bail out, Younge donned his parachute and leapt out into the darkness.
Younge survived his landing but did not survive the war. He was eventually sent to the Tokyo Military Prison, where, more than a month later, he died in a fire. On the night of May 25, another raid on Tokyo caused fires throughout the city. When the flames reached the prison, the chief jailor gave orders to evacuate, but only about half the Americans were released. Witnesses later reported that the Americans who did make it out were cut down with swords. The next day, the dead Americans were interred in a single mass grave.
Back in the United States, Younge’s three sisters, Jewell, Betty and Jeanne, were preparing to head to New York to attend the radio show, until they learned their brother had been shot down and his fate was unknown. The performance was canceled.
Younge’s mother, Florence, never accepted her son’s death. Betty’s daughter, Janet Clement, would later recall the look on her grandmother’s face. “She was lost,” Clement said. “I knew what heartache looks like from seeing her.” Forty years after his disappearance, Betty told a reporter, “He’s always in my memory.”
Younge would remain unidentified for 80 years. A year after Japan formally surrendered to the Allies, the U.S. Army’s American Graves Registration Service discovered the buried remains of 65 prisoners killed in the fire and identified 25 of them. In 1950, the remaining 39 were buried at Fort McKinley Cemetery (now the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial) in the Philippines.
It would not be until 2018 that Clement received a letter from Michael Krehl, the grandson of a prisoner killed in the fire. He wanted the 39 men buried in Manila identified; but to do so, the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency (DPAA) needed a threshold of at least 60 percent of the men’s family DNA to begin the disinterment of the unknowns. Clement concurred.
In the spring of 2022, DPAA exhumed the 39 unknowns and began the identification process. Clement and other relatives provided DNA samples. Three years later, Clement received the call she had been waiting for. “We did it!” she declared while pumping her fist in the air after learning that her uncle had been identified. She had been searching for clues to her uncle’s fate for years. Her mother, Betty, had passed away never knowing what happened to her brother. “The last thing I said to my mom was, ‘I think I can bring Harry home,’” Clement said. With her uncle found, she and her family chose to have him laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery with other relatives buried there.
On Aug. 3, 2026, Clement, her older sister Lynn Olsen and younger brother Robert Harry Clement gathered in Section 81 of Arlington National Cemetery with other descendants and friends to bid a final goodbye to the uncle they never knew. At the full military funeral honors with es**rt, U.S. Army Chaplain (Capt.) Albert Addison told the family that Younge “endured captivity as a prisoner of war” and shed his blood for his country. The chaplain’s prayers were followed by a firing party firing three volleys and a bugler sounding Taps. After the honor guard folded the flag held over Younge’s casket, 1st Sgt. Colin Thompson presented it to Olsen. “This is something sacred,” she later said. “It's something to be cherished.”
After the service, Olsen spoke about the never-ending grief her grandparents and parents felt. “There was always the shadow of not knowing where he was and our parents passed it down to each of us,” she explained. “My mother always said, ‘He never had a chance to have a girlfriend.’”
Clement praised DPAA, the volunteers and the contractors who helped identify her uncle. “I had an absolutely great team of people working towards the same goal, not just for Uncle Harry, but for all the other unidentified fliers.”
Although Clement called the funeral service a celebration because her uncle was finally home, she lamented on his untimely death. “Imagine being 20 years old, you're about to reach out and take a life dream that you're not even old enough to have completely dreamt yet, and it’s gone.”
Neither the U.S. military nor Younge’s family ever gave up on him. Now, his family can speak of his legacy and know that he is safely home at Arlington National Cemetery.
🖊 Kevin Hymel
📸 U.S. Army photos by Elizabeth Fraser
