It was a mission David Russell could have turned away from as he had found himself in a position to get out of the occupied lands, but chose to stay and do his bit for those still on the run.
It would eventually cost him his life.
He was caught by a mixed Italian and German police regiment along with an Italian man, Giuseppe Vetterello, whose home he had been staying at.
He was charged as a spy and was told if he did not provide his captors with information about who he had been working in with, he would be shot.
He steadfastly refused, and was executed on February 28, 1945.
Russell revealed nothing, and accordingly saved many lives as had he spilled names those people would have been rounded up, and also executed.
"When I saw that plaque I started doing a bit of digging to find out more about him," Haines said.
The "bit of digging" led eventually to he and his late partner Maureen travelling to Italy and Scotland, which was where David Russell was born and eventually arrived in New Zealand from in 1938, to learn more about him.
They met members of his family while in Scotland, who were delighted to hear about their quest to discover more about Russell.
Haines also met and corresponded with archivists and historians throughout New Zealand.
During his journeys through Northern Italy seven years ago, and the terrain and towns frequented by Lance Corporal Russell, he met up with the deputy mayor of Ponte di Piave, where Russell had been incarcerated before being shot, and also caught up with some of the partisans who had worked with Russell, and others who had heard of him.
He had gathered information about who best to contact through correspondence with the Italian Embassy in Wellington.
In the region of Italy where he had based himself David Russell was revered as a hero — for he had refused to name the locals involved in assisting POWs get to safety.
And he saw the remarkable gravestone which had been built for him at the cemetery in Ponte di Piave.
"That was quite a poignant moment as this was what we had been working towards for so long," Haines said.
The gravestone had been placed there by the locals, replacing a basic cross the Germans had put in, although Russell's body had been removed in 1950 and taken to a British Military Cemetery — which did upset many locals.
Haines said on the 50th anniversary of Russell's execution a permanent memorial was erected over the original grave site which records his remarkable deeds of bravery.
"His sacrifice is well known to the present day generation of Ponte di Piave — the gravesite is never without fresh flowers."
At the Imperial War Graves Cemetery at Udine, where Russell now lies, Haines said that as he and Maureen approached his final resting place he had a strange feeling.
"Like this was what it was all about ... the journey which started several years ago for me when I found the plaque was now a reality," he said.
"We both felt quite emotional at this time as this seemed to be the culmination of all those hours of preparation."
But no, there was more emotion and discovery to come.
After they laid flax crosses and poppies on the graves of all the New Zealand servicemen there, they visited the deputy mayor, Luciano De Bianchi, and he provided Haines with more names and places to pursue.
Among them, a local butcher called Alberto, who through his father was able to arrange a visit to see the Tommaseo family who are the present owners of the villa where Russell had been taken and locked up, and later shot.
"We were taken into the basement where David was confined for several days before he was taken out and shot."
The pieces had all pretty well come together in what had been an emotional journey of learning and discovery about a humble man who had gone to war and gave up his life to save so many others.
And a man whose death had such an impact on those back in Napier who had worked at the hospital with him they made a change.
The hospital board decided to rename Upper Midgely Ward to David Russell Ward and a plaque describing his gallantry was accordingly erected at the entrance to the ward.
After Napier Hospital was closed up it was put aside, but after Haines came across it during his archive sorting mission it has again emerged, with pride.
He took it to show the DHB's chaplain, Heather Flavell. She was astonished and delighted to see it, and ensured it would return to display.
It was originally put up in the Fallen Soldiers Memorial Chapel but is now pride of place in a special public area devoted to the history of the hospital service in Hawke's Bay, along with a copy of the story he researched and compiled.
LANCE CORPORAL DAVID RUSSELL
In May 1938 David Russell stepped ashore in Wellington after arriving from Australia where he had travelled to from his birthplace in Scotland several years earlier to find work.
Fresh off the boat, he and his mate Ken saw a story in a newspaper about the rebuilding of Napier after the great earthquake, and how there were jobs going.
So off they went and after briefly working for Shell Oil, Russell got himself a job as an orderly at the Napier Hospital in November that year.
In 1939, after Britain declared war on Germany, there was a call to arms across the empire, and Russell duly enlisted — on September 13, 1939.
He was scheduled to leave for Trentham on January 11, 1940, and the night before he had a bit of a big night out.
Jack Mansfield was the duty telephonist that night and ended up chatting with Russell, who was unable to sleep in his quarters at the hospital, through the rest of the night.
They reminisced about the good times — the parties and nights out — that they'd enjoyed.
Mansfield later said "then he went to breakfast, said his goodbyes to everyone, then was gone on the express to Wellington — that was the last we saw of him".
On May 2 he sailed with the 2nd Echelon and in June arrived at Greenock in Scotland, just 50km from where he was born.
Then it was off to Aldershot for training, and then into action in Greece in 1941.
It was there he saved the life of his fellow Napier mate Maurie Cowlrick, who he had enlisted with, and was among the 5000 exhausted Kiwi troops later evacuated to Crete as the Germans pushed on.
He was involved in the heavy fighting on the island and at one stage his mate Cowlrick was so ill in the trek to get to the boats and escape to Egypt that he told Russell to leave him there — go and save himself.
"You are not bloody dying here," was Russell's reply and helped carry him across the mountain paths to eventual safety.
After arriving back in Egypt Russell's battalion was sent to Suez, then to El Alamein in the Libyan desert to build the Kaponga Box defences in the El Alamein line.
The battalion was involved in a series of running battles in the deserts of Libya, Egypt, Syria and Lebanon.
It was on July 15, 1942, after a daring night attack to take the Ruweisat Ridge overlooking El Alamein, that Russell found himself in the wrong hands.
The 22nd Battalion was overrun at dawn by tanks of the 15 Panzer Division and 275 of the men were captured, including Russell.
After a 24km forced march and being put on trucks to be taken to a holding camp Russell tried to escape, and suffered a bayonet cut to his chest for his failed effort.
He shrugged it off and did his time in the holding camp before being shipped to Italy in early November where he was sent to camp PG57 at Gruppignano in Northern Italy near the border with Yugoslavia.
He tried to escape a couple of times, and was again wounded for his efforts, and eventually transferred to another camp.
It was in September 1943 that he finally got away — one of hundreds of POWs who got out after the Italian Armistice was signed with the Allies in the wake of Mussolini's downfall.
However, the incoming Germans were determined to track the escapees down, and had become increasingly concerned over the number of partisan movements which were springing up in the region, and the prospects of the escaped and on the run troops joining them.
Many Italian families harboured soldiers and airmen despite the threat of immediate execution if caught.
Russell was helped by locals and made it to a British mission in the mountains where he would have been safe, and could have gone safely to Yugoslavia.
But he chose to return to the plains — to help other escapees.
He went on to visit as many escapees as he could, passing on information he had gained about possible escape routes and acting as an escape agent for many.
He wore civilian clothes and managed to pass himself off as an Italian in the eyes of the fascisti and German forces, and was apparently well liked by the Italians.
By early 1945 he was living with an Italian family headed by Giuseppe Vetterello, and it was in February that year his luck finally ran out.
He had been planning to get 47 men out by boat and it is understood he may have been captured after the Germans set up an entrapment scam.
He was picked up near Vetterello's home so he too was arrested and also taken to the German headquarters at Ponte di Piave.
One of the German officers by the name of Haupt tried to force Russell to betray Vetterello but he staunchly denied having ever met him.
He was badly beaten but stayed silent, so Vetterello was released.
Haupt was convinced Russell had information, correctly suspecting he had been in contact with other prisoners and partisans.
So he was chained to a wall in the stable and told he would be shot in three days if he did not come forward with the information he had.
He sustained a string of beatings, and on one occasion was handed over to an Italian officer who also tried to force him to speak, by using methods which may have included pushing hot wires under his fingernails.
Some accounts say he was not fed or watered for several days, and when told that if he did not talk he would be shot he simply replied, "let them shoot me".
One of his compatriots also involved in getting POWs to safety was Arch Scott, and he later wrote that even after they had taken Russell to the place where he would be shot they tried to make him talk one more time.
His response was "I will not tell you my job here nor where my companions are."
He was led into the grounds and told to stand against the concrete wall.
According to another of his soldiering mates, Alf Harbottle who was from Hastings, he requested a cigarette — having asked "don't I get a last request?"
Apparently, he took his time rolling it and while smoking it looked around at the world he was about to leave.
He was asked if he had anything to say and he shook his head, threw down the half-smoked cigarette and stood rigidly to attention.
His executors left him where he fell and that evening he was wrapped in a groundsheet and bundled on to a bullock wagon and taken to the cemetery, where he was quickly buried.
But the memories of his deeds and bravery did not die, and on July 26, 1949, King George VI presented the George Cross to David Russell's father, James Russell of Ayr in Scotland.
New Zealand Prime Minister Peter Fraser wrote to James Russell saying "while sincerely lamenting the circumstances of Lance Corporal Russell's untimely demise I should like to assure you that his noble sacrifice will forever be remembered by the Government and people of New Zealand".