I wish I knew more about my great uncle Frank. He was younger than I am now when he died, and I've known about him for many years. We have a collection of postcards that were sent between him at the front and his family home which gave a good insight into what it must have been like for him. It was fascinating to see that when he wrote in the morning, it was expected to arrive home in Norwich in the afternoon of that day. It was through these we discovered that his half-brother was held in a POW camp, which was never spoken about by the family, and survived. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Frank. I have two different dates of his death; 7th October and 17th October 1918. If it's the latter, then he died on my birthday, albeit some 66 years before I was born. What is so sad about this is, he nearly made it to the end of the war. I intend, one day, to go to Belgium to visit his grave. If possible, around the time he died, and lay a wreath for him. As long as I live, he will not be forgotten, and I hope that he, and his comrades who fell in the line of duty with him, will never be forgotten.

Rob Barker