Robert was a bombardier and navigator on a B-29, Aircraft Serial Number 42-6390, nicknamed the Gallopin' Goose in the China-Burma-India Theater. On December 7, 1944 the 19th mission was to destroy the Manchuria Airplane Company in Mukden. Seven B-29s were lost on that mission. The Gallopin' Goose was the first to be "rammed" and went down about fifteen miles before the intended target at Lin-Hao-Tun, Manchuria. All but one of the ten person crew died that day. S/Sgt. Arnold G. Pope, the tail gunner, was the only one to parachute from the plane. He was picked up by the Japanese and was held as a POW for a period of time. According to historical records, S/Sgt. William Wooten, a crewman aboard the "Windy City II" witnessed the ramming. "The fighter came in at us low and I gave him 50 rounds when he was 400 yards away. The fighter's right engine started smoking and burning." Sgt. Wooten saw pieces of the canopy fly off. Going down out of control and smoking profusely, the fighter then pulled up and slipped under 42-6390, hitting the left horizontal and vertical stabilizer and tearing them off. "I saw one parachute come out of 42-6390 before it hit the ground."

The Pacific War Chronology states that on December 7, 1944 108 B-29s left Chengtu, China to bomb the airplane factory and an adjacent arsenal at Mukden. Of the 108 planes, 80 aircraft hit their primary target and 10 others hit a rail yard short of the primary target, several others did strike alternate targets. On February 23, 1945 Lt. Robert Roseland was awarded the Air Medal for outstanding and meritorious achievement for combat flights of more than 100 hours, from bases in India to bases in China. He was promoted to the rank of 1st Lieutenant March 10, 1945.

Bob was born on June 2, 1920 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin to Joel E. Roseland and Violet (Johnson) Keiper. He had three younger sisters: June Reed, Carla Becker and Anne Stuyvesant. His hair was the color of burnished copper and he had brown eyes and a dimple in his chin. He graduated Cum Laude from North Division High School in Milwaukee. His favorite subject was math which is where he excelled. He loved music, played the tuba in the school orchestra and played the sousaphone in a community band as well.

When Bob finished high school there weren't many jobs available so he stayed an extra year at school so he could to continue using the tools in the Industrial Arts Department. He had drawn up the plans to construct a full sized desk of oak wood which he was to be a gift for his mother.

After Bob completed the extra year of schooling he enrolled in classes at the Milwaukee Normal School, now known as the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. He left after one year to attend a vocational school and took all the math classes he possibly could. After completing two years he left school and took a job at Allis Chalmers, where he worked the night shift as a pressman.

My father enlisted in the Army Air Corps on July 25, 1942 but was not called up for duty until January 30, 1943. He graduated from Navigator School in Monroe, Louisiana in September, 1943. About the same time he was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant. He completed Bombardier School in December, 1943.

Bob and my mother Elizabeth Doris Hermann were married on February 12, 1944 by a U.S. Army Chaplain in Clovis, New Mexico. Their witnesses were Captain Roger Parrish and Mrs. Roy Pate.

My mother went back to her family home in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, while my father was overseas. She was home alone when the fateful telegram arrived stating that Lt. Roseland was "presumed missing in action" as of December 7, 1944. Later the information was updated to "killed in action" of the same date. I was born into this world on January 29, 1945, six weeks later.

For a long time the family did not know where Bob's remains were located. My grandmother wrote a letter of inquiry and was told that any remains were being held in Hawaii. On August 25, 1950 a reburial service was held at the National Cemetery at the Rock Island Arsenal in Illinois, Section D Grave #265. Nine names are listed on the white grave marker. The flag that had been draped over the coffin was folded in the traditional manner and was presented to my Grandmother Roseland. My father's name has been memorialized at the War Memorial Center which overlooks Lake Michigan in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Around the reflecting pool on the lower level are also the names of many others who were from Milwaukee County and gave up their lives in this war.

My mother remarried after a few years and had three more children. I grew up in a family where we didn't talk about my father. My mother's new husband adopted me which meant that my birth certificate was reissued with my new last name. In my recollection I have never have been called by the last name that I was born with.

It wasn't until I was an adult that I dared to write to my Grandmother Roseland to ask about my father. She was more than willing to tell me about him. The information she sent to me was priceless and allowed him to become more than just a photo of someone in a uniform. I kept those letters in a special place. They were my only tangible link to a father I never met.

I used the GI Bill to attend college and study accounting but never completed a degree program. Eventually I married a wonderful man from North Dakota, an Agricultural Engineer who mostly worked as a design engineer during his professional life. I spent the majority of my work life in the health care field. I now manage a small gift shop in Georgia where we live. We raised five children, one girl and four boys: Linda (Buckhouse) Mayger (an accomplished elementary educator); Todd (a retired U.S. Army helicopter pilot who was awarded three Air Medals with Valor for his tours in Iraq); twins Eric and Evan (both very successful engineers like their father); and Robin (a satellite imagery technician who served two tours with the U.S. Army in Iraq). We have eight living grandchildren and a great-granddaughter named Ellie. Our son Evan and grandson Noah have gone to heaven to be with their grandfathers.

After my father's oldest sister June died, her daughter Judy sent me some letters that her mom had saved. They were letters from my father to June dated from February, 1943 to December 1, 1944. I could not believe that I was actually holding something my father physically touched and actually wrote. It was so moving to actually see the handwriting that everyone said was so difficult to read. Reading the letters gave me an insight into the personal relationship my father had with his sister and it was easy to see his sense of humor. Through these letters my father became less of a two dimensional photograph and more of a multidimensional person. I cannot fully describe the emotions I felt when I read his letters for the first time. To this day those emotions well up every time I read his written words. Although I never got to meet this great man, my father, I am proud to be his daughter and could not love him more.