Beacon reader Bob Davies has been in touch with more on the story of Monmouth man Sgt Frank Collins, who was shot dead during the 1914 Christmas Day truce. The story, covered by the Beacon in February, tells the sad tale of the popular Monmouth postman, who died on the battle-field after a decorated and distinguished career with the territorial army. He died serving in the trenches with 2nd Battalion Monmouthshire Regiment – part of the South Wales Borderers – and for the second time was mentioned in Dispatches upon his death by Field Marshal Commander in Chief Sir John French, for: "gallant and distinguished service in the field".

SIR, By the end of 1914, troops on both sides knew that there was no possibility of a major battle for months. Along about two thirds of the thirty-mile-long British front an uneasy truce developed, soldiers coming to adopt a 'live and let live' approach. This reached its climax at Christmas Day. On Christmas Eve, both sides began to sing carols. Christmas Day dawned bright and frosty and before long men came out of their trenches, cautiously at first. For many soldiers the main reason for contacting the Germans was to reach a mutual agreement about the burial of the dead, some of whom had been lying between the lines for weeks. In some places, things went further and men began to fraternise. Before long Germans and British were swapping gifts, and even taking photographs.  British soldiers handed over food that they were getting bored with, including corned beef, Maconochie's stew, and Tickler's jam. They also passed over cigarettes and Christmas puddings. The Kaiser had sent strong cigars to his men as his Christmas present and many of these were handed over in exchange, as well as sausages, sauerkraut and wine. The truce for the Monmouthshire men began when a sergeant stuck a copy of the Pontypool Free Press on his bayonet and left the trench. Then Welsh and easy-going Saxons met in the middle and handed over gifts. One young Monmouthshire man had a conversation with an English-speaking medical student. They agreed they were fed up with the war and would rather be playing football. Another private wrote home to say that he had had one of the greatest experiences of his life on Christmas Day when he talked to the enemy. In the end, though, the Monmouthshire soldiers were to remember the day for two deaths. Ex-miner Private Percy Palfrey was shot in the neck and killed, as he returned from a burial party. Frank Collins' death was described in a letter sent by his friend Sergeant Jones to the Argus, under the heading 'Sergeant Treacherously Shot'. He said that his friend had taken tobacco and jam to the Germans, but "When he was coming back to the trench they shot him through the back and killed him. He fell down and said 'My God, I'm done'. They are dirty cowards, after giving them tobacco." The Germans sent an apology over later. Sergeant Collins lies ten miles south of Ypres in grave 1B9 in the Calvaire (Essex) Military cemetery. In the New Year, another postman carried the grim news to Mrs Frances Collins. He left behind three little children. In 1914, the oldest was just nine.  Bob Davies (Ewyas Harold)