In November 1940, my eldest brother Harold was flying in a formation of six Gloster Gladiators of 80 Squadron on an offensive patrol over the border between Greece and Albania, when they were intercepted by nine Italian Fiat CR42 fighters. In the ensuing combat, his aircraft collided with one of the enemy's causing both to crash. According to the records of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, Harold has no known grave and is commemorated on the El Alamein Memorial: his squadron being on detachment from Middle East Command. According to a newspaper article written in January 1941 by the Daily Mail Special Correspondent, Yanina, his grave lies beside that of a Greek Evzone, in the churchyard of the Greek Church of the Twelve Apostles in the remote mountain village of Droviani. In the article, the correspondent described how he and three RAF men reached the village after a two hour ride on horseback over mountain paths and, by finding his grave, solved the mystery of the fate of Flying Officer H. Sykes, who had been missing for six weeks. Some 55 years later, I came across this article amongst family papers during a visit to Australia and decided to follow it up with the aim of getting Harold's name taken off the unknown grave list and obtaining official recognition of the site in Droviani. The most comprehensive official confirmation of the accuracy of the Daily Mail article, which I was able to trace, came from the Air Historical Branch of the RAF. Their more detailed records agreed completely with the search and findings as outlined in the newspaper. So similar were the two accounts that it is safe to assume that the Special Correspondent tagged along with the search party sent out by the squadron as soon the area in which the aircraft fell was surrendered to Greed troops. It is also safe to assume that although the gravesite had been located, nothing could be done about it and commemoration on the Alamein Memorial was the obvious and only answer at that time. Now that the reliability of the newspaper article was confirmed, the next step should be for me to travel to Droviani and find the gravesite for myself - but there was a problem; someone had moved the frontier and Droviani was no longer in Greece, but was now in Albania. After the war, Albania had become one of the most isolated countries in the world under its paranoid leader, Enver Hoxha. All links with both the USSR and the West were severed and even the ties with China, which were maintained for some time, were eventually cut. One of Enver Hoxha's more bizarre decrees called for the removal of all evidence of Allied assistance in driving the Italians from Albania. Such evidence included the British War Cemetery in the capital, Tirana, so this was totally obliterated, as were a number of isolated graves. This action was not supported universally and, especially in those villages, which formed Greek enclaves within the borders of Albania, the people protected the war graves from desecration by removing the markers. I did not know about this, just as I did not know about the border changes, when I started my search. If I had known, I think I would have found the prospect of looking for an unmarked grave, in the remote mountain village, in an officially declared atheist state which had become isolated from the rest of the world for half a century - far too daunting, especially if a major language varier were thrown in for good measure. As it so happened, my ignorance worked to my advantage. It led me to the Greek desk in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, where a most helpful person not only put me right about the boundary changes, but also put me into contact with two people without whose help I would have got nowhere: the Deputy Head of Mission and the Vice-Consul in the British Embassy in Tirana. As soon as the snow melted and the mountain roads became passable, they started a ground search in their own time at weekends and public holidays: such an activity was not included in their official duties. Their search involved round trips in excess of 600 km on atrocious roads and mountain tracks better suited to travel by mule. They used the small ferry port of Saranda, about 300 km south of Tirana, as their base and from the outset the gods smiled on them. They chose to stay in a small guesthouse where the co-owner was an English speaking Albanian, with a military school background who, inter-alia, organized mountain treks and knew he surrounding area well. This was a godsend as road maps showing mountain tracks to isolated villages were non-existent, as were such features as signposts. Without this chance contact the embassy pair would have had major problems with this help they reached Droviani,
