In May 1918, Angela and Leopold Mond received a knock on the front door. It was the postman and he was delivering the letter every family in the United Kingdom dreaded: the notification of a loved one's battlefield death, in their case the death in action of their eldest child, their son, Lieutenant Francis Mond. The twenty-two year old Royal Flying Corps pilot, along with his Observer, Lieutenant Edgar Martyn, had been shot down over no man's land, both being killed instantly.

If there was one crumb of comfort, it was the news that a brave Australian officer, Lieutenant A.H. Hill, had gone out under fire and recovered both bodies: there would, at the very least, be a grave to visit after the war. And then, nothing.

No further news was forthcoming. Angela Mond wrote to the Imperial War Graves Commission asking for further details but there was confusion. No one knew where Mond's and Martyn's bodies were buried.

There had been an initial trail: both bodies had been taken to the village of Corbie and a lorr