Changes

We've imagined it, been told about it, read about it. In essence , there's little left to learn.

In particular , his testament is to one Lincolnshire family "The Beecheys" of whose 13 children, the eight brothers all went to war... and only three of them came out alive. Of those three - one would be physically shattered by the experience and another would come home to face the influenza epidemic. Their mother would need to enlist their MP to fight for the pittance of a pension due to her for her lost sons.

It impossible not to become involved in this account... because the Beecheys grow back into the real live people they once were. For the most part , they are allowed to tell the story themselves, with Walsh providing only so much linking narrative as is necessary to put the letters in context. Pages and pages are devoted to the minutiae of service life. Through the letters home we don't just witness again the absurdities of trench life - in both their horror and their humour - we get a real feel for the things that occupy minds perhaps too fraught to think on other things, or maybe welcoming a chance not to... requests for socks and mufflers and vests, we expect... but for a waistcoat because even in the mire, the soldier feels more a man for wearing one, or because he misses a place to put his watch. The joy of a pork pie or a jam triangle.

Do all of the Beechey's come over as heroes? Well, you'll have to judge for yourself. There It is scarce that there is a word of criticism or complaint from any of them... other than against the racketeers and the weather and the filth of one kind or another... and all did what they saw to be their duty. But even in families personalities differ and varying attitudes whisper behind the lines.

Strangely moving are the things not said in the letters. Official testimonies from officers and medics tell more of the strain that we are so familiar with: the shell-shock, the exhaustion, the blatant overwhelming fear (which being of real and present danger should be rational and not shaming). None of these appear appears in the letters home to Mother (Amy Beechey) or her daughters. The boys continue to go on ''quite well'' even when things get a bit rough. ''But if you could send a bit of dripping... ''

The strain is hard to disguise at times, when leave is cancelled or wills are sent home; when recovery from illness or injury is reported with some resignation. Or when the Beechey deaths begin and Amy is faced with cheerful enquiries from one brother after one of whose death he has yet to hear.