Died of wounds received in action aged 22
Buried in Bray Military Cemetery, Bray-sur-Somme, with 746 others. Plot II. D. 40.

Frank Woolf was the younger of the two sons, by his second marriage, of Alfred Haldinstein of Thorpe Hall, Norwich. He had five younger sisters.

Alfred Haldinstein’s father, Philip, had emigrated from Breslau in the 1840s and married Rosa Soman, daughter of David Soman. In 1799, David Soman, an emigrant from the French Revolution, bought a building in Norwich where he made fur caps. As the boot and shoe trade took over from the former headwear, he also became Phillip Haldinstein, as a shoe manufacturer.  In 1853, the business passed into the hands of Haldinstein, and later merged with the Swiss manufacturer, Bally, to become Bally and Haldinstein of Norwich. One of Frank’s aunts married Arthur Samuel who was Norwich’s first Jewish Lord Mayor and, later, became the 1st Lord Mancroft.

Thorpe Hall is a magnificent house, now Grade II* Listed. It is mainly late 16th Century incorporating an earlier 14th Century house. It is situated on the eastern side of Norwich some 1.5 miles from the heart of the city, on part of the site of the Palace of the Bishops of Norwich and by the River Yare which runs westwards around the edge of the city and eastwards towards Breydon Water which connects to the Broads network.

Educated at Norwich Grammar School, Frank went up to Christ Church as a Scholar in 1912. He served in the ranks before being gazetted in 1915 as a Captain in 8th Signal Coy. Royal Engineers.

He died of wounds and is buried in Bray Military Cemetery, Bray-sur-Somme, together with 746 others. His name is on the Thorpe St. Andrew Memorial, Norwich.

Probate was granted to George Emanuel Haldinstein on 3 January 1918. He left £275-15s-0d.

In his Preface to “Authority in the Modern State” 1919, Harold Laski says:
 “This book would have gone to my friend Frank Haldinstein, scholar, of Christ Church and captain in the Royal Engineers. But his name has been added to the list on which the Oxford of my generation will write with undying pride.

When I look back on certain magic nights at Oxford and re-read these pages in the light of their memory, I realise how halting they are compared to the things they would have said. But I take it that for them the one justification of this conflict would have been the thought that we who are left are trying in some sort to understand the problems of the state they died to make free. To have known them was an education in liberty.”