PRIVATE Arthur Bellamy sent this, his last message home, to his mother Sarah Jane Bellamy, at Cox Tor Farm, Peter Tavy. He died on September 2, 1918, just two months before the Armistice. The last few lines were lost in a fire.

'The following were our evening hymns When the nights were bright and fine, Sung by many a Devonshire lad In that solitary front line.

Sing me to sleep where bullets fall Let me forget the war and all. Damp's my dugout, cold my feet, Biscuits and bully all to eat.

Sing me to sleep in some old shed As dangers rattle aroud my head, Stretched out on my waterproof Dodging the raindrops through the roof.

Sing me to sleep where bombs explode And shrapnel shell on our abode. Over the sandbags helmets you'll find Graves in front and graves behind.

The Times is grateful to authors Alex Mettler and Gerry Woodcock for allowing the use of this extract from their book 'We Will Remember Them', which features the men of Tavistock who died in the First World War.