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I was born ten years to the hour after my uncle, Sgt Alan Moore of 57 Squadron, Bomber Command, was killed. He was Flight Engineer in a Lancaster, N for Nan, flying from East Kirby. He had not long converted from Stirlings and was on ops heading for Stuttgart on the night of July 23rd/24th 1944 (I was born shortly after 1.00am on the 24th July 1954) when his plane was shot down by anti-aircraft fire — or so I have been told by the Bomber Command association.

Shortly before her death, my mother gave me all the memorabilia she had kept relating to Uncle Alan — his flight log book, last letter home, squadron photographs, 'wings' and, most poignantly, the telegrams from the War Office and the King. I have been to see his last resting place at Orleans (Mum never was able to make the trip) and planted a rose bush on his grave in the beautifully-kept War Graves Commission cemetry in the suburbs of Orleans. It is truly a beautiful place.

I have always wanted to meet — or contact — anyone who may have known my Uncle to find out what sort of person he was, what accent he had — anything. I have always felt a spiritual link with him (we have many similar facial features..) and feel I cannot rest until I find someone who knew him.

I know it is a long shot. but nothing ventured, nothing gained. I have already been in contact with 57 Sqaudron Association and Bomber Command Association.

Many thanks for any help — and a heartfelt thanks to all of you who were prepared to lay your lives on the line to defend our country. God bless you.

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