Finding George Albert Landymore by Lauretta Harris nee Landymore Early in my research to find Landymore people who had served in World War I, I was puzzled to find no Landymore entry for George Albert on the commonwealth War Graves Commission website. George Albert Landymore was born in Camden, North London on 24th February 1897, the elder son of of George Walter Landymore and Amelia Miriam Moore. Shortly after his birth, the family moved to Bermondsey, SE London. Amelia Miriam died in 1909 and George’s father married secondly Eliza Seely at St Alban’s Church, Great Ilford Essex on 26th December 1909. When war broke, George joined up in the 5th Bn, London Rifle Brigade, London Regiment No 301040. After George was wounded and had recovered, he returned to France. George's name had been inadvertently misspelled on the CWGC website and tombstone. When we produced a copy of his birth certificate they most generously replaced his tombstone with a new one. My husband and I visited the cemetery on behalf of George's nephew who was too old to travel there himself. Here is the account of this journey to find the grave of a man who despite being wounded fought again and gave his life for us all. I hastened to telephone you on our return from France to let you know that your uncle’s gravestone has been replaced with one correctly inscribed. We had travelled westwards from Reims through the rolling hills of the champagne vineyards to Soissons where we stopped in the Saturday market to find some flowers. There was little choice so we took a bunch of home grown white dahlias and set out to find the cemetery. One’s heart gets heavier and heavier seeing signs to graveyards of the CWGC on every side - some tiny - some vast. So many dead and all so young. At last we came to Frevent and turned left along the D91 towards the exit for Ligny-sur-Canche. The sky was getting very dark and threatening. We hoped to be lucky in our search and find it before the next of the many icy torrential downpours of the past few days. We crossed the river. Some children were gathered there, fishing. They waved to us. The village of Ligny is a tiny hamlet - not at all prosperous by the look of the houses. The sign directed us to a single track lane which forked on the left into a farmyard. The right hand fork seemed not much more of a road. It passed another farm and went up over a slight hill with a little blue and white chapel on the right. We followed it for some distance, even though we felt we must have missed a turning somehow. There was a wood on the right, the trees golden and orange and brown, then some fields and then we found it. A small cemetery surrounded by a neat stone wall. Two stone seats were set into the wall on either side of the gate. They must have been so welcome for those who would have come on foot years ago. At the far end was the memorial cross, between two rows only of headstones. The left hand row was row A. We counted to 30 in the row and came to a gap. My heart sank. They had taken the incorrect stone to replace it... but then we counted the other way and found the new stone beautifully carved and correctly inscribed. My eyes just filled up with tears of sadness, but also of immense gratitude for the CWGC who take their task so seriously and who had worked with such speed and care to put matters right for you and your family. It was not an easy stone to carve as the regimental badge is one of the more ornate ones. I felt so glad that we could photograph it and show you that all was well - that there was as good an end as there could be to that part of the family history. I felt grateful too for the gardener who is tending this place with such conscientious care. There are different herbaceous plants in front of the headstones in a narrow border and red roses at the base of the memorial cross. Sadly there was no visitors’ book to write a note of thanks. It is a quiet valley, and although the military cemeteries are ultra neat and regimented in their appearance, this was more like a country churchyard in its surroundings than most. And the children fishing peacefully from the village bridge as they would have done all those years ago, made it seem worthwhile and why your uncle and his comrades had come so that the ordinary freedoms of childhood and of family life could be restored.