Pte Frank Henry Burman's grandchildren only have two records of his First World War experiences. One is a poignant letter written to his wife days before he was killed in action, and the other is the emotionless, standard army issue communication recording his death.

Frank's letter to his wife, Helen, was found in a pocket in his uniform after he was killed at the Somme on March 2, 1917.

In this ordinary letter made remarkable by its tragic timing, the young Pte Burman gives a glimpse into the life of a First World War soldier.

He writes about his life in the trenches and a friend who is suffering from trench foot, caused by prolonged exposure to damp, cold conditions. He voices concerns for the two young sons he has left behind, discusses the difficulty in getting money exchanged in France, and asks his wife to pass on his love to family members.

The letter begins with words of thanks to Helen for the food and treats she had posted over to him. She had sent cake and mincemeat which Frank, then 28, said he enjoyed, saying: 'My dear you don't know how pleased I was to get it.'

Complaining of a cold, Frank remembers to thank Helen for the handkerchiefs she had sent in a previous parcel, saying how they had 'come in very handy'. And he only hints at the difficulty brought by something so ordinary in the trenches, bemoaning the fact he has no means of washing the handkerchiefs after using them.

What shines throughout the letter is Frank's unfaltering optimism that the war would end and that he would return. He speaks lovingly about his children, friends and relatives waiting at home and writes: 'I am quite looking forward to seeing you all again, tell Leslie [their son] not to find too much work for me to do as I shall want a good rest when I do get home.' He signs off with five kisses, and a promise to try to write more if he could find the time.

Helen found herself a widow just five years into their marriage, and was faced with the prospect of bringing up two young children.

Perhaps the most poignant passage in the letter is where Frank wrote of his hopes that, as February 1917 drew to a close, he was 'another month nearer [to] coming home, never to go away for so long again.'

But Frank never did come home – and Helen never remarried.

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