My dear Father,

It is a strange feeling to me but a very real one, that every letter now that I write home to you or to the little sisters may be the last that I shall write or you read. I do not want you to think that I am depressed; indeed on the contrary, I am very cheerful. But out here, in odd moments the realisation comes to me of how close death is to us. A week ago I was talking with a man, a catholic, from Preston, who had been out here for nearly four years, untouched. He was looking forward with certainty to going on leave soon. And now he is dead - killed in a moment during our last advance. Well it was God’s will.

I say this to you because I hope that you will realise, as I do, the possibility of the like happening to myself. I feel very glad myself that I can look the fact in the face without fear or misgiving. Much as I hope to live thro’ it all for your sakes and my little sisters! I am quite prepared to give my life as so many have done before me. All I can do is put myself in God’s hands for him to decide, and you and the little ones pray for me to the Sacred Heart and Our Lady.

I hope that you will not move out of the old house yet. Write and let me know when anything happens. I see that you went to Preston a few days ago. It seems years and years since I tried to get drowned in the canal.

Well I have not much time left and I must end. With my dear love. Pray for me. Your son Frank.

— Lance-Corporal Frank Earley in a letter home; the following day he was seriously wounded to the chest and died hours later. He was 19.

March 06, 2013, 2:00pm / 84