Henry J.P. Landrydied of drink, on a dirty mattress, in one of the last of the Boweryflophouses. It was an ignominious end to decades spent in the shadows.

Landry had once been a Marine, and some New Yorkers who never evenknew him just didn't want a veteran to end up in an anonymous grave atPotter's Field.

So as he lay in the morgue for 10 months, a Manhattan detective, a former Marine and a Queens funeral director worked through bureaucracy to get him a proper burial.

Now Landry lay in final rest in grave No. 3196 in the green expanse of Calverton National Cemetery - a dignified denouement to his rueful story.

"It was obvious he suffered from loneliness," said 1st Grade Detective Ming Li. "I felt that we as citizens have to support people who served to protect our country."

"We take care of our own," said Al Cavallo of the Marine Corps League.

"I was determined for him to be buried," said Anna Michaelides, director of Dignity Memorials provider Kennedy-Roth Funeral Home in Woodside.

Li, of the Fifth Precinct in Chinatown, was called to the Providence Hotel on June 9, 2008, where Landry was dead in room 131 - actually a grim, 4-by-6-foot cubicle.

The signless hotel, jammed between a produce market and a cheapclothing store, is where the lowest of the down and out live for a fewdollars a night in the vanishing underbelly of the gentrifyingneighborhood.

On the third floor, where Landry lived in a dark, Dickensian warrenof cubicles, a mangy cat strolled and a man in a cardboard hat andfilthy clothes staggered in the heat on a recent day.

"Now you see why I wanted him to have a proper burial," Li said softly.

Drank himself to death

Jackie Smithlives across the hall. A bed, a hot plate and small refrigerator leavefew inches of room. Clothes hang from the rope mesh that serves as aceiling for the cubicles.

"Henry was the greatest, nicest guy," said Smith, 74. "I didn't seehim for two days, and I yelled up, 'Henry, are you okay?' But he wasdead."

Smith said his pal drank five bottles of wine "every day, seven days a week ... rotgut."

He said Landry was proud to be a Marine, and had worked in theGarment District, at a zipper factory, but then spent 42 years on theBowery "when it was the Bowery - with people lying in doorways."

Landry died of chronic alcoholism, the medical examiner ruled. Hewas 66, but Li said he looked to be 80 or 90. He had long gray hair anda straggly beard, and he weighed less than 90 pounds.

He had no family left, but there was a Veterans Administration card on his nightstand.

"If no next of kin, you wind up in Potter's Field in a 4-by-6 pieceof wood," Li said. "I didn't feel this was right for a war veteran tosuffer."

Li contacted the Manhattan VA office, which verified that Landry hadbeen in the armed services, and told Li that as long as Landry washonorably discharged he qualified for burial in a military cemetery.

Li then contacted the military archives in St. Louis and was told he could act as next of kin. In September, he received Landry's proof of service and honorable discharge.

The papers said Landry had an eighth-grade education. He enlisted at 18 from his hometown, Hopatcong, N.J. He served for 15 months as a rifleman and was discharged in 1961.

Li searched the Internet for Marine advocates and found Cavallo, who said, "Don't worry - Marines leave no one behind."

Li held onto Landry's papers. Meanwhile, Cavallo asked Michaelides to provide burial services.

She had to get proof of a positive ID of Landry. Smith identifiedhim from a morgue photo, and dental records were used to confirm it.

"He was nicknamed the Iceman because he was in the morgue so long," said Cavallo. "Anna kept on the ME's office and the Department of Defense."

His final journey

In March, she got the paperwork she needed and picked up Landry'sdischarge from Li. On April 14, she took Landry's body from the morgue.

The next day, in a downpour, Patriot Guard Riders provided a motorcycle escort for the hearse to the Suffolk County line, and Suffolk sheriffs then escorted it to Calverton.

Fifty former Marines were there. A Marine Corpschaplain said a prayer, a 21-gun salute was fired and taps sounded. Thehonor guard gave the triangular-folded American flag to Michaelides.

"He had a beautiful casket," she said. "We donated it, the hearse and our time."

Li received an award from the New York City Marine Corps Council on June 30 for humanitarian aid to a former Marine.

Landry's grave is marked by a simple white headstone identical to the 207,719 others in Calverton. It reads, "Henry J P Landry, PVT, US Marine Corps, Jan 5 1942 Jun 9 2008

"He restores my soul"

A few strangers restored Landry's dignity, renewing our faith in human kindness.

poshaughnessy@nydailynews.com