The country has just finished nationwide commemorations of the first day of the Battle of the Somme, with tributes, events and quiet contemplation on Friday 1 July 2016.
But when we look back to what was happening 100 years ago, soldiers continued to face first-hand the true horrors of fighting.
Their families would dread receiving a military telegram or letter on headed notepaper.
This was usually the sign that those left behind while their loved ones were away on the brutal battlefields of northern France would never see their brothers, sisters, mothers or fathers ever again.
These snippets from telegrams of Salford soldiers tell a different side – among all the heroism and patriotism celebrated back at home, there are so very many of these quiet, sad little stories.
Corporal George Goodwin, served with the South Lancashire Regiment and lived at Prescott Street, off Ordsall Lane in Salford.
At the time of his death he had been driving a horse and cart for Salford Corporation, the forerunner of Salford City Council.
Married with three children, George had already served in the army for 12 years before war broke out and enlisted again in 1914.
Army Chaplin Harrison wrote to George’s wife, which simply read: “I am sorry to tell you that your husband George passed away yesterday in the hospital after receiving a gunshot wound to his thigh which sadly became infected.
“Everything that could have been done to save him was attempted.
“His end was practically painless, I will write later and let you know where his poor, tired body is buried.
“I beg you to remember that his soul is now with at rest with his loved Father.”
More letters to reach Salford in the days following the Somme include to the family of Signaller Emrys Edwards who lived at York Street, Broughton.
The 23-year-old was serving with the Manchester Regiment when he was killed ‘instantaneously’ by a sniper’s bullet on Friday 1 July.
Tragically, days after his death was formally announced, his sister Dilys received a letter from Emrys which clearly hinted that he was going off on some kind of special mission.
Emrys’ letter hinted at “something big” that “was coming off” and said his family “should not worry if they did not hear from him for a few days”.
In the letter he asked that Dilys pass this message onto his mother as he didn’t want her to worry. He was never heard from again.
And then there were those who were simply ‘missing in action’ or MIA .Corporal John Molineux, 24, was serving with the Lancashire Fusiliers having left a life as an ironworker at Bradford’s Iron Works, Broad Street, Salford and left his father behind at Eliza Street in Salford.
John Molineux Snr received a letter through the post from Lieutenant T. Gordon Gribble.
It read: “It is with great regret I have to inform you that your son, John is missing, since July 1, when we we attacked the Germans here. He was in my platoon and I will miss him greatly for he was a great help to me”
Sergeant William Simpson, served with the 15th Lancashire Fusiliers and lived at Kennedy Road, Weaste. Before enlisting he worked at Simpson Brothers on Chapel Street, Salford, as a clerk.
Captain R. Yeid wrote his family with the ominous news: “I deply regret to tell you that your brother William has been missing since the action fought on July 1.
“When last seen he was gallantly leading his platoon into action and setting an example of coolness and courage which was of infinite value, we all regret the loss of of this gallant man and tender our heartfelt sympathies.”
His friend in the regiment, Sergeant J. Moulding also wrote to the family to say that his battalion were the first to lead the way over the top.
“You can imagine what he we had to face, they completely wiped us off the face of earth, we had a roll call this morning and found out who was killed, sadly I didn’t see Billy’s name there and pray to God he is a prisoner of war.”
These stories go on, and on.
Corporal Rowland Hill, 24, lived at Langworthy Road, Salford and was reported as being a keen violinist and before enlisting with the Salford Pals, was employed at Myerman and Company, Cooper Steet, Manchester.
His parents received a letter from Chaplain R. Balman who told them, “I am very sorry to tell you that your son, Rowland was not merely wounded on July 1, but killed.
“I was told by his comrades that he was last seen encouraging his men on when he was shot in the mouth and throat and sadly died from his injuries, his body was found on the battlefield and buried by his comrades.
“You can at least have the satisfaction of knowing that he died whilst doing his duty, may God give you the strength and courage in bearing this blow.”
Waiting by the door for a death note to appear would simply become a way of life.
And to be told of your son or husband’s death by somebody who, in all truth, probably never even knew them, must be a terrible way to hear.
Private James Healey, 32, was killed on 1 July 1916, he had lived at Durham Street, Greengate, Salford with his wife before joining the Lancashire Fusiliers, Salford Battalion in 1914.
Reverend Herbert Roeher told his wife in a letter: “I had hoped that I would have been able to write to you sooner a brief line of sympathy, but there has, alas been very many to who I have had to write.
“Your husband was well respected man, a good soldier and kind-hearted comrade, but to you his death is not that of a hero, but of your husband and that makes all the difference.
“You women have by far the heaviest burden to bear in war time and in your husband’s sacrifice you share, praying that God may comfort you in your distress.”
The final letter we look at speaks of Private William Fitzpatrick who was just 19 when he was killed. The teenager lived at Henry Street off Whit Lane and was his mother’s only son.
He joined the Loyal North Lancashire regiment in September 1914 and would die on 1 July 1916.
His mother was overwhelmed with grief when she opened a letter from Captain Everett of the British Army.
The burden of writing the letters was obviously a cross to bear for officers, too.
He wrote: “Dear Mrs Fitzpartick, do not grieve too much about the death of your boy. He was hit by a bullet when he was doing his duty for his country.
“You will of course meet him again some day and his future happiness is secured.
“I have given the cigarettes that you sent him to his comrades, I know that he would have liked that”
“Help all the other splendid women folk in Pendleton to be proud of their great achievement, it our women who bear the real burden.”
The poor women of Salford would have to endure many, many more of these heartbreaking letters for several years to come.
