New Year's Eve and bidding farewell to 2009 and welcoming in 2010. Not reached midnight yet but am praying for no developments and if that is the case can only hope that the coming year provides the same good fortune as the old one.
Of course it's not just the end of the year but the finale of the first decade of the twenty-first century, where on earth did that go? Remember the big millennium party the village threw, counting down to midnight with close ones and H disgracing himself completely by grabbing someone else's champagne, drinking it and then puking up all over the place. Happy days.
Spent this afternoon doing all those irritating little chores that are so easy to shelve but then grow in magnitude . Been into the village, written thank-you letters and sorted out the washing as superstition has it you must not wash clothes on New Year's Day or you would risk 'washing one of the family away', and am certainly not in the frame of mind where I want to tempt providence. The weather's been poo and had a trip to the dump, which is actually one of life's secret pleasures - almost nothing beats the satisfaction gained from throwing out a loud of old crap. Well almost nothing.
Friends kindly invited me to what will be a super party tonight, good company and inevitable bouts of boisterous hilarity, but may opt out and go for the quiet contemplative evening at home. Not sure my mood would match the rest of the guests and nobody likes a party pooper. One day life will be fun again, won't it? Actually it's not a case that it's never fun at the moment it's just there's this huge cloud of uncertainty casting a big black shadow over everything, and it never really goes away.
R going out with girlfriends to a posh club and H ensconced in Edinburgh for the big Hogmanay bash, which C always used to love to attend too.
Please God they'll all be there together next year.
Happy New Year everyone and thank you.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
A Postscript
Tonight is a full moon, the second in fact during the month of December which actually makes it a 'blue moon', and as such in ancient times was regarded as the harbinger of good luck and transformation. So according to legend, wishes must be made in the hope that this auspicious night will grant them life and who knows maybe wishes really will come true.
Thursday 31 December 2009
Wednesday 30 December 2009
Day 88 Week 12
One of the things about social descending and finding yourself unexpectedly a member of the nouveau pouvre is that you have to become incredibly resourceful. Actually social descending is the wrong descriptive - in many ways I am richer, more fulfilled and surrounded by nicer people than I could ever hope to include as friends and neighbours - more so than at any other stage in my life. It's just I have to be frugal where once I was extravagant.
So it is for many years now that I have cut and coloured my own hair and carried out other such essential maintenance on a maturing body e.g. waxing and facials. Goodness it's a chore though. One of the main motivations is that with advances in the efficiency of cosmetic products the passing of the years can be somewhat disguised. A second incentive is that I save over a hundred pounds a month by avoiding outside agencies and doing it myself - but I just find it all so boring. The day has come to put off no more however and as we have yet more torrential rain the time was set aside for the monthly restoration routine.
It's supposed to make you feel all uplifted and rejuvenated but for some inexplicable reason I've been swept by the most enormous tsunami of sadness and just want to cry like a baby. Must fight this. Have so much to be grateful for. Must hold on to the positive and eliminate the negative. Must keep the spirits up and not tumble into bleakness. Oh God it's hard. Maybe it's a sense of 'it's over', as I had so completely focussed on hopefully surviving Christmas with an intact family unit that it hadn't occurred to me what it would feel like afterwards. If we're very fortunate and blessed it will be more of the same and can't bear to contemplate the alternative.
So much to be thankful for, that's the prayer.
R upstairs in her room and boyfriend due for dinner. H on his way to Scotland for Hogmanay and I'm cooking bubble and squeak and apple cider sausages.
No news from abroad and another parcel sent out this afternoon with love, kisses and wishes for safe keeping.
Please keep C and everyone safe Lord.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
So it is for many years now that I have cut and coloured my own hair and carried out other such essential maintenance on a maturing body e.g. waxing and facials. Goodness it's a chore though. One of the main motivations is that with advances in the efficiency of cosmetic products the passing of the years can be somewhat disguised. A second incentive is that I save over a hundred pounds a month by avoiding outside agencies and doing it myself - but I just find it all so boring. The day has come to put off no more however and as we have yet more torrential rain the time was set aside for the monthly restoration routine.
It's supposed to make you feel all uplifted and rejuvenated but for some inexplicable reason I've been swept by the most enormous tsunami of sadness and just want to cry like a baby. Must fight this. Have so much to be grateful for. Must hold on to the positive and eliminate the negative. Must keep the spirits up and not tumble into bleakness. Oh God it's hard. Maybe it's a sense of 'it's over', as I had so completely focussed on hopefully surviving Christmas with an intact family unit that it hadn't occurred to me what it would feel like afterwards. If we're very fortunate and blessed it will be more of the same and can't bear to contemplate the alternative.
So much to be thankful for, that's the prayer.
R upstairs in her room and boyfriend due for dinner. H on his way to Scotland for Hogmanay and I'm cooking bubble and squeak and apple cider sausages.
No news from abroad and another parcel sent out this afternoon with love, kisses and wishes for safe keeping.
Please keep C and everyone safe Lord.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Tuesday 29 December 2009
Day 87 Week 12
Another Rifleman from 3 Rifles was killed yesterday, that's a hundred and seven taken this year and we haven't reached the thirty-first of December yet. May he RIP.
Guiltily sent the group text to inform it wasn't C, as the poor soul has not yet been named, and as ever am stunned into humility by the love and kindness people return in their response. Am also keenly aware that this is a lottery and cannot for one second put the lost boy and his family out of my mind. There but for the Grace of God go we.
Weather atrociously wet and went for a long walk by the river with H. Listening to hilarious tales of his training at Dartmouth, cold blistering rain lashing our faces and boots squelching in the mud but it was wonderful nonetheless. Was told off soundly for screaming with delight as the train suddenly rattled along the bridge next to us as we crossed the Thames, making the whole structure shake as if it was about to collapse. Doubly reprimanded for then waving at the engine driver, still it was fun.
Miss having my children with me all the time so much. Apart from the fact they're my produce, they're just really good company and thankfully imbued with a tremendous sense of humour. We invariably end up laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, but somehow C's current predicament eludes levity.
The US is on heightened security as a result of the attempted airliner bombing and scarily there appears to be a connection with the UK. We obviously haven't got a clue what is really going on and maybe for the sake of collective sanity that's just as well.
R at her boyfriend's and H popped over to see his father as he's off up to Edinburgh for the new year and this is his last chance to see him before he goes back, and then everything sadly reverts to the correct order.
No news from C so hopefully he's fine and just hope the poor boy killed wasn't one of his lads. Not that it makes the loss any easier it's just I know how utterly unbearable C would feel if it was. Prayers, prayers and more prayers.
I'm just about to have my traditional Irish supper of gammon, cabbage and potato felicitating a trip down the memory lane of childhood.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Guiltily sent the group text to inform it wasn't C, as the poor soul has not yet been named, and as ever am stunned into humility by the love and kindness people return in their response. Am also keenly aware that this is a lottery and cannot for one second put the lost boy and his family out of my mind. There but for the Grace of God go we.
Weather atrociously wet and went for a long walk by the river with H. Listening to hilarious tales of his training at Dartmouth, cold blistering rain lashing our faces and boots squelching in the mud but it was wonderful nonetheless. Was told off soundly for screaming with delight as the train suddenly rattled along the bridge next to us as we crossed the Thames, making the whole structure shake as if it was about to collapse. Doubly reprimanded for then waving at the engine driver, still it was fun.
Miss having my children with me all the time so much. Apart from the fact they're my produce, they're just really good company and thankfully imbued with a tremendous sense of humour. We invariably end up laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, but somehow C's current predicament eludes levity.
The US is on heightened security as a result of the attempted airliner bombing and scarily there appears to be a connection with the UK. We obviously haven't got a clue what is really going on and maybe for the sake of collective sanity that's just as well.
R at her boyfriend's and H popped over to see his father as he's off up to Edinburgh for the new year and this is his last chance to see him before he goes back, and then everything sadly reverts to the correct order.
No news from C so hopefully he's fine and just hope the poor boy killed wasn't one of his lads. Not that it makes the loss any easier it's just I know how utterly unbearable C would feel if it was. Prayers, prayers and more prayers.
I'm just about to have my traditional Irish supper of gammon, cabbage and potato felicitating a trip down the memory lane of childhood.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Monday 28 December 2009
Day 86 Week 12
Well a quiet day but enjoyable nonetheless as no news is always good news.
Had chance to catch up on the world and was horrified to discover some idiot had tried to blow up himself along with several hundred other passengers on an aircraft. Obviously he feels passionately that there is a worthy cause to fight and die for, but why does that always have to include the slaughter of innocents. Has done, I know, for millennia but then that brings us back to the old point of learning from past mistakes and not repeating them.
Have just read a fascinating feature in the Sunday newspaper about how the impact of developments in wartime trauma treatment has had a beneficial effect on accident and emergency procedures in the NHS. The Colonel in charge of the Camp Bastion Field Hospital described how the wounded, who would have certainly died not too many years ago, are now surviving. Seemingly Sunday is the day of most activity, the theory being the killing stops for Friday prayers, planning the attacks is done on Saturday and then they are carried out on what the medical team call "Holy Shit Sunday". Statistically four people are harmed for every one killed and the total number of British losses and injuries combined since 2001 is more than thirteen hundred.
Then I read that every soldier operating in the 'isolated, mud-walled forward bases in rural Helmand' has been given thorough training in the immediate treatment of limb amputation and must always carry a tourniquet as the body can loose all its blood within forty seconds. That must include C.
God I hate this war.
Heard on the village grape vine that two of C's junior school friends have been sent to prison for a very long time. And then there was a serious incident at our local pub the other night when two more of his childhood peers (one of whom is out of the nick on licence) viciously assaulted two unsuspecting guys having a pint, one being an off duty policeman. Consider whether I would rather C remained at home and was continually in trouble or accept he deals in violence but in the name of the rule of law - an arresting conundrum. The answer is I suppose I am privileged to be proud of his actions and thankfully not forced to be ashamed of them.
R upstairs having a snooze and H gone for a run as he feels his fitness levels have plummeted and when he returns to Dartmouth he suspects he will be humiliated by the juniors. Heavy snow forecast for the Chilterns tomorrow so might be housebound again.
No news from C. More prayers said.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Had chance to catch up on the world and was horrified to discover some idiot had tried to blow up himself along with several hundred other passengers on an aircraft. Obviously he feels passionately that there is a worthy cause to fight and die for, but why does that always have to include the slaughter of innocents. Has done, I know, for millennia but then that brings us back to the old point of learning from past mistakes and not repeating them.
Have just read a fascinating feature in the Sunday newspaper about how the impact of developments in wartime trauma treatment has had a beneficial effect on accident and emergency procedures in the NHS. The Colonel in charge of the Camp Bastion Field Hospital described how the wounded, who would have certainly died not too many years ago, are now surviving. Seemingly Sunday is the day of most activity, the theory being the killing stops for Friday prayers, planning the attacks is done on Saturday and then they are carried out on what the medical team call "Holy Shit Sunday". Statistically four people are harmed for every one killed and the total number of British losses and injuries combined since 2001 is more than thirteen hundred.
Then I read that every soldier operating in the 'isolated, mud-walled forward bases in rural Helmand' has been given thorough training in the immediate treatment of limb amputation and must always carry a tourniquet as the body can loose all its blood within forty seconds. That must include C.
God I hate this war.
Heard on the village grape vine that two of C's junior school friends have been sent to prison for a very long time. And then there was a serious incident at our local pub the other night when two more of his childhood peers (one of whom is out of the nick on licence) viciously assaulted two unsuspecting guys having a pint, one being an off duty policeman. Consider whether I would rather C remained at home and was continually in trouble or accept he deals in violence but in the name of the rule of law - an arresting conundrum. The answer is I suppose I am privileged to be proud of his actions and thankfully not forced to be ashamed of them.
R upstairs having a snooze and H gone for a run as he feels his fitness levels have plummeted and when he returns to Dartmouth he suspects he will be humiliated by the juniors. Heavy snow forecast for the Chilterns tomorrow so might be housebound again.
No news from C. More prayers said.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Sunday 27 December 2009
Day 85 Week 12
Christmas over without any untoward news from the front line and just want that to continue until the whole business is over. Is that too much to ask for?
Well H and I arrived at my cousin's gorgeous home in the grounds of one of England's most breath taking stately homes, and we greeted each other in the way you do when you haven't seen someone you love for too long and then we sat down to eat lunch at about one thirty. It was as if time had flashed backwards, for my cousin is the most fabulous cook, and we feasted with her and her family at the huge but welcoming table on cold turkey, cold pork, goose, sausage, venison stuffing, salads, home made pate, the best coleslaw I've ever eaten, hot jacket potatoes, home made pickles and chutneys all accompanied by unending glass filling and catching-up on time apart. It was like a Tudor banquet. Then the cheese came out and the rumour has it I consumed a whole wheel of Stilton, which is a definitely stretching the point.
C and R were missed.
Then after lunch finished at - seven o'clock - we all tumbled into the fourwheel drive to lurch off-road across the fields to the local pub. It was like being on the set of the Archers. Roaring fires, loads of regulars with tales to tell - including discovering the wife of one came from my home village in Nottinghamshire - and more alcohol. Low beams strewn with holly and the delicious smell of wood smoke wafting through the air. Leaving the pub with much cheering and hugging with new found buddies and then we re-bounced back over more rustic terrain to the house for yet more gastronomic merrymaking consisting of Italian red wine risotto followed by home made ice cream, with of course more quaffing of red wine.
Absolutely fabulous.
H and his contemporary cousin then repeated the pilgrimage to the pub and vaguely remember going to bed at about midnight. Goodness it was fun - but as ever tainted by the thought that personal enjoyment came at a time when progeny suffering great hardship.
This morning arrived with the sound of a very large bull mounting a cow outside my bedroom window (lots of grunting and slipping around), before back to the convivial table no one ever wants to leave for a fabulous breakfast, followed by a walk around some of the most spectacular Capability Brown grounds in the country. Disturbing pheasants in the woods, reading the inscriptions on the many extraordinarily exquisite follies and watching the swans splash on the frozen lake with the winter air crisp and fresh. Sad farewells then home.
Think I could be two stone heavier than yesterday.
And now H, R and I off up to London to see my brother and his gorgeous young family.
Lots of toasting absent friends and prayers for their safety.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Well H and I arrived at my cousin's gorgeous home in the grounds of one of England's most breath taking stately homes, and we greeted each other in the way you do when you haven't seen someone you love for too long and then we sat down to eat lunch at about one thirty. It was as if time had flashed backwards, for my cousin is the most fabulous cook, and we feasted with her and her family at the huge but welcoming table on cold turkey, cold pork, goose, sausage, venison stuffing, salads, home made pate, the best coleslaw I've ever eaten, hot jacket potatoes, home made pickles and chutneys all accompanied by unending glass filling and catching-up on time apart. It was like a Tudor banquet. Then the cheese came out and the rumour has it I consumed a whole wheel of Stilton, which is a definitely stretching the point.
C and R were missed.
Then after lunch finished at - seven o'clock - we all tumbled into the fourwheel drive to lurch off-road across the fields to the local pub. It was like being on the set of the Archers. Roaring fires, loads of regulars with tales to tell - including discovering the wife of one came from my home village in Nottinghamshire - and more alcohol. Low beams strewn with holly and the delicious smell of wood smoke wafting through the air. Leaving the pub with much cheering and hugging with new found buddies and then we re-bounced back over more rustic terrain to the house for yet more gastronomic merrymaking consisting of Italian red wine risotto followed by home made ice cream, with of course more quaffing of red wine.
Absolutely fabulous.
H and his contemporary cousin then repeated the pilgrimage to the pub and vaguely remember going to bed at about midnight. Goodness it was fun - but as ever tainted by the thought that personal enjoyment came at a time when progeny suffering great hardship.
This morning arrived with the sound of a very large bull mounting a cow outside my bedroom window (lots of grunting and slipping around), before back to the convivial table no one ever wants to leave for a fabulous breakfast, followed by a walk around some of the most spectacular Capability Brown grounds in the country. Disturbing pheasants in the woods, reading the inscriptions on the many extraordinarily exquisite follies and watching the swans splash on the frozen lake with the winter air crisp and fresh. Sad farewells then home.
Think I could be two stone heavier than yesterday.
And now H, R and I off up to London to see my brother and his gorgeous young family.
Lots of toasting absent friends and prayers for their safety.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Saturday 26 December 2009
Day 84 Week 11
C was able to ring home on Christmas afternoon and as the turkey did not arrive in time they killed their pet goat and ate it for lunch, after which they played football against the Afghan National Army and were promptly hammered. This was not a day off from duties however and he said he's been 'out and about' previously. He thanked everyone for all the parcels sent out.
He then rang our oldest friends and chatted with them, followed by father, brother and sister. Believe we have the Sun newspaper to thank for that - never thought I'd utter those words.
I had an unexpectedly delightful Christmas which turned into a very grown up dinner party lasting until ten in the evening with lots of discussion of a very lively and humorous nature. The impending dreaded Christmas experience without C at home was avoided by making it a different sort of occasion with scrumptious food, diverse company and ironically not a child in sight. Well that is child in the legal sense of the word as the two grown up sons of our hosts were witty and charming and full of anecdotes, and then I walked home and felt a huge pang of nostalgia for my own brood. Please God next year they'll be here.
It's one of the consequences of divorced couples that the off spring alternate their yuletide between the separate parties. So as H pointed out that meant I didn't get to have the day with just two out of the three this year, and that next year would (hopefully) be with C back at home - as last year was - and wouldn't I rather have it that way round than the other. Indeed I would.
Off to my cousin's for a couple of days with H and really looking forward to seeing them all and sharing vast amounts of alcohol, again mouth watering grub and more witty conversation. R spending the day with boyfriend's family.
No news from C so Lord let's keep it that way please.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
He then rang our oldest friends and chatted with them, followed by father, brother and sister. Believe we have the Sun newspaper to thank for that - never thought I'd utter those words.
I had an unexpectedly delightful Christmas which turned into a very grown up dinner party lasting until ten in the evening with lots of discussion of a very lively and humorous nature. The impending dreaded Christmas experience without C at home was avoided by making it a different sort of occasion with scrumptious food, diverse company and ironically not a child in sight. Well that is child in the legal sense of the word as the two grown up sons of our hosts were witty and charming and full of anecdotes, and then I walked home and felt a huge pang of nostalgia for my own brood. Please God next year they'll be here.
It's one of the consequences of divorced couples that the off spring alternate their yuletide between the separate parties. So as H pointed out that meant I didn't get to have the day with just two out of the three this year, and that next year would (hopefully) be with C back at home - as last year was - and wouldn't I rather have it that way round than the other. Indeed I would.
Off to my cousin's for a couple of days with H and really looking forward to seeing them all and sharing vast amounts of alcohol, again mouth watering grub and more witty conversation. R spending the day with boyfriend's family.
No news from C so Lord let's keep it that way please.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Friday 25 December 2009
Day 83 Week 11
Christmas Day.
Remember last year coming downstairs at six in the morning to find both boys sitting up, spark asleep on the sofa, side by side, with the laptop on their knees. They'd decided to watch a film when they came in from the pub but didn't have the stamina or sobriety to stay the course, and so it was at the crack of dawn on Christmas Day I made cranberry and bread sauce accompanied by carols and two snoring boys.
Obviously things are different this year.
R and H asleep upstairs and I'm listening to the service from Chester Cathedral and there's a gaping hole in our family. With the Grace of God it will prove to be a temporary chasm but it is still enormous in its volume. The love and prayers that we are collectively sending invisibly through the ether around the world are immeasurable.
Please God bless everyone and keep them safe from harm.
H and R having lunch with their father and I was overwhelmed by offers from family to stay wth them, but I felt I couldn't leave the house today. And so my dear friend has kindly invited me to their home and it will be delicious food combined with gentle conversation, and then back to the familial nest in the evening. Hopefully it will be a very quiet and uneventful day and then it will be business as usual.
H and R just explaining why only part of my present can be wrapped (at this very moment- in paper that I actually bought myself) because the other half isn't yet available. Oh and I've just had to give them my selotape and scissors too. Well at least it made me laugh.
Speaking to family on the phone just now and I'm handing the blog over to H and R to post messages to C.
C! H here, the annual christmas eve night out wasn't the same without you, everyone said so and we toasted you and your lads at midnight. Just gave mum her presents from ALL of us, she says thanks. Any way, we all miss you and I'm already planning the social for you return. Lots of love, H.
Happy christmas C! Not really feeling that great today as i clearly am paying for the annual winkers session last night, which as H already said, wasnt the same without you. You were very missed as you are today, but ill eat twice as much to make up for your absence! Love you so much and miss you more, R x
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Remember last year coming downstairs at six in the morning to find both boys sitting up, spark asleep on the sofa, side by side, with the laptop on their knees. They'd decided to watch a film when they came in from the pub but didn't have the stamina or sobriety to stay the course, and so it was at the crack of dawn on Christmas Day I made cranberry and bread sauce accompanied by carols and two snoring boys.
Obviously things are different this year.
R and H asleep upstairs and I'm listening to the service from Chester Cathedral and there's a gaping hole in our family. With the Grace of God it will prove to be a temporary chasm but it is still enormous in its volume. The love and prayers that we are collectively sending invisibly through the ether around the world are immeasurable.
Please God bless everyone and keep them safe from harm.
H and R having lunch with their father and I was overwhelmed by offers from family to stay wth them, but I felt I couldn't leave the house today. And so my dear friend has kindly invited me to their home and it will be delicious food combined with gentle conversation, and then back to the familial nest in the evening. Hopefully it will be a very quiet and uneventful day and then it will be business as usual.
H and R just explaining why only part of my present can be wrapped (at this very moment- in paper that I actually bought myself) because the other half isn't yet available. Oh and I've just had to give them my selotape and scissors too. Well at least it made me laugh.
Speaking to family on the phone just now and I'm handing the blog over to H and R to post messages to C.
C! H here, the annual christmas eve night out wasn't the same without you, everyone said so and we toasted you and your lads at midnight. Just gave mum her presents from ALL of us, she says thanks. Any way, we all miss you and I'm already planning the social for you return. Lots of love, H.
Happy christmas C! Not really feeling that great today as i clearly am paying for the annual winkers session last night, which as H already said, wasnt the same without you. You were very missed as you are today, but ill eat twice as much to make up for your absence! Love you so much and miss you more, R x
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Thursday 24 December 2009
Day 82 Week 11
Phew. Christmas Eve. Not good but the bad times make the good times worthwhile and must hold on to the positive.
Saw the Chinook delivering presents and supplies to 3 Rifles at one of their forward operating bases on the news. Desperately scanned the assembled throng for a glimpse of C but it was all over so quickly. Doesn't matter really because they're all in the same boat under exactly the same conditions, just with a different map grid reference. Goodness it looks bleak.
Don't want to dwell on the maudlin but this is not a good time and actually ache inside, just miss him so much.
Woke up with the tone of the day set and then had a deep conversation with H who thankfully made it home at midnight. He also finds it difficult but after much soul searching he rationalised that this is all C ever wanted to do, and of course he would be tired but the army would be watching him closely as the last thing they would want is someone buckling being responsible for the safety of others. Apparently C did phenomenally well at Sandhurst and finished highly in his group - H said when he spoke to C's colleagues they told him they were awestruck by his soldiering particularly at such a young age. H went on to say he felt that if he had joined up after university he would have swept the board for everything. H hugged me tightly and reminded me that the last thing C would want is for home to be miserable and fall apart as a result of his career choice and we had a duty to keep things together for him to come home to.
Still bloody hard though.
Then more kindness and goodness of human nature as my colleague from work drove out through the snow to drop off presents, and H took me shopping and then the dearest friend ever took me out to avoid dwelling, and when I arrived home C's gorgeous girlfriend and two of his best mates had dropped off presents and a card on the doorstep.
R out with boyfriend and H dressed in his kilt on a pub crawl in Uxbridge. All winding up in our local inn and then on to the country club to dance the night away.
Prayers and reflection for those facing mortal challenges.
Happy Christmas and a safe New Year.
Thank you Everyone.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Saw the Chinook delivering presents and supplies to 3 Rifles at one of their forward operating bases on the news. Desperately scanned the assembled throng for a glimpse of C but it was all over so quickly. Doesn't matter really because they're all in the same boat under exactly the same conditions, just with a different map grid reference. Goodness it looks bleak.
Don't want to dwell on the maudlin but this is not a good time and actually ache inside, just miss him so much.
Woke up with the tone of the day set and then had a deep conversation with H who thankfully made it home at midnight. He also finds it difficult but after much soul searching he rationalised that this is all C ever wanted to do, and of course he would be tired but the army would be watching him closely as the last thing they would want is someone buckling being responsible for the safety of others. Apparently C did phenomenally well at Sandhurst and finished highly in his group - H said when he spoke to C's colleagues they told him they were awestruck by his soldiering particularly at such a young age. H went on to say he felt that if he had joined up after university he would have swept the board for everything. H hugged me tightly and reminded me that the last thing C would want is for home to be miserable and fall apart as a result of his career choice and we had a duty to keep things together for him to come home to.
Still bloody hard though.
Then more kindness and goodness of human nature as my colleague from work drove out through the snow to drop off presents, and H took me shopping and then the dearest friend ever took me out to avoid dwelling, and when I arrived home C's gorgeous girlfriend and two of his best mates had dropped off presents and a card on the doorstep.
R out with boyfriend and H dressed in his kilt on a pub crawl in Uxbridge. All winding up in our local inn and then on to the country club to dance the night away.
Prayers and reflection for those facing mortal challenges.
Happy Christmas and a safe New Year.
Thank you Everyone.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Wednesday 23 December 2009
Day 81 Week 11
Another tearful day. Last night heard that one more Rifleman from 3 Rifles Battle Group has been killed. Heard via the news and shakingly sent the round-robin group text that C was at least safe at that moment and yet again overwhelmed by the response of love and support. 3 Rifles motto is 'Swift and Bold' and I just hope and pray he didn't suffer in agony for very long.
Then just heard on the lunchtime news that yet another soul taken - that's three lost in twenty four hours. It's a slaughter.
May they Rest in Peace.
As usual out of the blue my mobile rang and there was the innocuous number on my screen telling me it was C calling from Afghanistan
Me: "Sweetiepie how are you?" (Successfully hiding true feelings with ridiculously upbeat tempo)
C: "Yeh OK - how's things at home?" (Again his voice is so sober and mature)
Me: "All the better for hearing from you. How's it going?"
C: "Yeh fairly knackering really - it's getting to that point in the tour when we're all bloody exhausted"
Me: "Don't you get any rest or can't you say" (Long pause)
C: "No we don't actually get any time off - we just grab some sleep when we can"
Me: "You're on duty all the time?" (Stupid question I know, but it was sinking in)
C: "Yeh guess that's pretty much the case"
Me: "Two more Riflemen lost - were they with you?" (Damn - blurted it out and didn't mean to)
C: "No Ma, nowhere near me" (C was always a crap liar - but went along with it for is sake)
Me: "So all your men are OK?"
C: "Yeh we're good - just pretty shattered"
Me: "Have you seen J?" (Boy from next village)
C: "Yeh Ma - I told you he's in my Platoon but in the other half"
Me: "What do you mean the other half - are there two officers?"
C: "No Ma - the Sar's in charge of the other half"
Me: "So have you got another Sergeant?"
C: "No Ma - I'm basically doing both jobs now" ........
Total and utter brain scramble. When C was deployed H told me not to worry because as he was an inexperienced pup he would be kept well and truly out of the way, and anyway everyone knows it's the sergeants who really run the army. But here was C telling me he didn't have a sergeant any more and that he was doing both his role and that of platoon commander. No wonder he sounds so grave. He's twenty-one year's old for goodness sake, he should be having fun and enjoying life to the full and here he is responsible for the well being of fifteen men, literally making life and death decisions and carrying the burden of guilt that a split second's lack of concentration could cause. Oh my darling boy. Please Lord keep them all safe.
The conversation finished with him telling me that he's spoken to his girlfriend again and that he was going to ring a soldier friend once we'd finished our call. I told him he could go as I didn't want to be greedy and use all his time up as I was really happy now because we'd been able to speak. Then he was gone and then I couldn't stop crying.
Knock at the door and the most beautiful bouquet of flowers was delivered to me from a really special friend. Then my phone rang again and this time it was my cousin wanting to know how things were and reassuring me C must be a pretty special guy if he was doing all that and reminding me I had to be strong and positive. Then a card arrived from my Irish cousin and it was full of love and prayers. And then a friend arrived and gave me the most beautiful bunch of holly with clusters of red berries to bring the yuletide into the house. And once again am humbled and eternally grateful for the love and kindness people give so generously.
Not heard from R so hoping the party was a success. Not heard from H so hope he's OK and manages to defeat the elements and return home for Christmas. Still snow so am confined to looking out the window again.
More prayers and as my cousin said positive thoughts for the protection of people exposed to jeopardy.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Then just heard on the lunchtime news that yet another soul taken - that's three lost in twenty four hours. It's a slaughter.
May they Rest in Peace.
As usual out of the blue my mobile rang and there was the innocuous number on my screen telling me it was C calling from Afghanistan
Me: "Sweetiepie how are you?" (Successfully hiding true feelings with ridiculously upbeat tempo)
C: "Yeh OK - how's things at home?" (Again his voice is so sober and mature)
Me: "All the better for hearing from you. How's it going?"
C: "Yeh fairly knackering really - it's getting to that point in the tour when we're all bloody exhausted"
Me: "Don't you get any rest or can't you say" (Long pause)
C: "No we don't actually get any time off - we just grab some sleep when we can"
Me: "You're on duty all the time?" (Stupid question I know, but it was sinking in)
C: "Yeh guess that's pretty much the case"
Me: "Two more Riflemen lost - were they with you?" (Damn - blurted it out and didn't mean to)
C: "No Ma, nowhere near me" (C was always a crap liar - but went along with it for is sake)
Me: "So all your men are OK?"
C: "Yeh we're good - just pretty shattered"
Me: "Have you seen J?" (Boy from next village)
C: "Yeh Ma - I told you he's in my Platoon but in the other half"
Me: "What do you mean the other half - are there two officers?"
C: "No Ma - the Sar's in charge of the other half"
Me: "So have you got another Sergeant?"
C: "No Ma - I'm basically doing both jobs now" ........
Total and utter brain scramble. When C was deployed H told me not to worry because as he was an inexperienced pup he would be kept well and truly out of the way, and anyway everyone knows it's the sergeants who really run the army. But here was C telling me he didn't have a sergeant any more and that he was doing both his role and that of platoon commander. No wonder he sounds so grave. He's twenty-one year's old for goodness sake, he should be having fun and enjoying life to the full and here he is responsible for the well being of fifteen men, literally making life and death decisions and carrying the burden of guilt that a split second's lack of concentration could cause. Oh my darling boy. Please Lord keep them all safe.
The conversation finished with him telling me that he's spoken to his girlfriend again and that he was going to ring a soldier friend once we'd finished our call. I told him he could go as I didn't want to be greedy and use all his time up as I was really happy now because we'd been able to speak. Then he was gone and then I couldn't stop crying.
Knock at the door and the most beautiful bouquet of flowers was delivered to me from a really special friend. Then my phone rang again and this time it was my cousin wanting to know how things were and reassuring me C must be a pretty special guy if he was doing all that and reminding me I had to be strong and positive. Then a card arrived from my Irish cousin and it was full of love and prayers. And then a friend arrived and gave me the most beautiful bunch of holly with clusters of red berries to bring the yuletide into the house. And once again am humbled and eternally grateful for the love and kindness people give so generously.
Not heard from R so hoping the party was a success. Not heard from H so hope he's OK and manages to defeat the elements and return home for Christmas. Still snow so am confined to looking out the window again.
More prayers and as my cousin said positive thoughts for the protection of people exposed to jeopardy.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Tuesday 22 December 2009
Day 80 Week 11
Thank goodness R made it safely to her boyfriend's - well he had to drive out to meet her and escort her to his house, I know it was an ordeal because every so often she'd text and say 'OK so far Mum'.
Our village looked like a disaster movie - scores of stranded cars and at midnight the main road to London was solid in both directions with droves of silent people trudging away from abandoned vehicles. Our local John Lewis actually made up beds and had the snow-refugees sleeping in the store overnight - Dunkerque spirit prevailing and a delicious breakfast thrown in to boot. Remember we used to have weather like this when I was a child and never recall everything grinding to a halt.
Watched the Military awards on the TV last night. It may seem a cliche to say it was absolutely awesome - but that's just what it was. Also there was a therapeutic aspect to it because suddenly it wasn't so scary and somehow began to make some sort of almost sense. The thing that never ceases to amaze is that these warriors of ours are just so normal and not in the least bit arrogant or pretentious, simply ordinary, honest, caring people predisposed to be prepared to die for the wellbeing of others. Such noble deeds accompanied by unassuming modesty.
Felt particularly effected to see 2 Rifles' receive the Best Unit award, the desperately injured included along with those blessed by returning unscathed - well by physical injury at least.
Then the news this lunchtime was live from Lyneham and Wooton Bassett again as the bodies of three more were brought home. Hushed crowds paying respectful homage as the coffins pass, one of them containing yet another eighteen year old and the other two were only in their twenties. Whilst the families can be proud that they lived decent lives it is still so, so sad.
A friend just called by and it was good to see her and chat and laugh and just been light hearted for an hour. R been collected by her father in his four by four to be taken up to London to see her Scottish family. H still working on returning home for Christmas and hopefully it's looking more hopeful now the back log has been cleared on both sides of the Channel. No news from C so just praying he and his comrades in 3 Rifles are being protected from harm and kept safe.
Fellow soldier's Mum really struggling and I know just how she feels. God bless her and her boy.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Our village looked like a disaster movie - scores of stranded cars and at midnight the main road to London was solid in both directions with droves of silent people trudging away from abandoned vehicles. Our local John Lewis actually made up beds and had the snow-refugees sleeping in the store overnight - Dunkerque spirit prevailing and a delicious breakfast thrown in to boot. Remember we used to have weather like this when I was a child and never recall everything grinding to a halt.
Watched the Military awards on the TV last night. It may seem a cliche to say it was absolutely awesome - but that's just what it was. Also there was a therapeutic aspect to it because suddenly it wasn't so scary and somehow began to make some sort of almost sense. The thing that never ceases to amaze is that these warriors of ours are just so normal and not in the least bit arrogant or pretentious, simply ordinary, honest, caring people predisposed to be prepared to die for the wellbeing of others. Such noble deeds accompanied by unassuming modesty.
Felt particularly effected to see 2 Rifles' receive the Best Unit award, the desperately injured included along with those blessed by returning unscathed - well by physical injury at least.
Then the news this lunchtime was live from Lyneham and Wooton Bassett again as the bodies of three more were brought home. Hushed crowds paying respectful homage as the coffins pass, one of them containing yet another eighteen year old and the other two were only in their twenties. Whilst the families can be proud that they lived decent lives it is still so, so sad.
A friend just called by and it was good to see her and chat and laugh and just been light hearted for an hour. R been collected by her father in his four by four to be taken up to London to see her Scottish family. H still working on returning home for Christmas and hopefully it's looking more hopeful now the back log has been cleared on both sides of the Channel. No news from C so just praying he and his comrades in 3 Rifles are being protected from harm and kept safe.
Fellow soldier's Mum really struggling and I know just how she feels. God bless her and her boy.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Monday 21 December 2009
Day 79 Week 11
Still more snow and I'm supposed to go to the hospital, que faire?
The thing with idealism is that it always evaporates when realism pops it head up and says 'guess what, you cherished a child-like belief in that, but actually this is the reality' and then it smacks you across the metaphorical face. Shattered dreams can work one of two ways, they can destroy and fester and eventually poison the bearer into bitterness or they can be used as a salutary lesson and galvanise the spirit into a more productive and essentially better course of action. Or sometimes they're just a wake-up call.
Today would have been my twenty-seventh wedding anniversary and there was snow on the ground that day too. I have nurtured a belief for nearly thirty years now that my life has taken a certain course of action as a result of an episode of murky behaviour in my past for which I am considerably less than proud.
The resulting atonement meant a journey off Karmic discovery as the epicentre of impact spread waves of consequence through the lives of those implicated directly or indirectly. Actually had an enormous guilt trip about how I had damaged paths in the short and long term not just for those nearest me, but also everybody included in the concentric circles of fall out. Simply put I chose one over another and had for many years now assumed I must take responsibility for my actions and seek contrition. To now discover that actually maybe I got everything base over apex and it was the reassessment and not assessment that was a chimera has left me, temporarily at least, feeling ashamed and debased.
My ex had his faults but he was never a materialist.
Daughter drove me to the hospital and it then took us two and a half hours to drive the four miles home. Stranded lorries, cars being pushed by strangers, blizzarding snow in abundance, and little car sliding all over the place like those images of geese trying to land on frozen water. Arrived home and she blithely said 'I'm of to boyfriends' and so is now driving again, this time on her own, through the Arctic conditions eight miles up hill and down dale in the night. Keep her safe please Lord.
H stranded in France and is trying to reschedule the return for the 23rd, but they'll be lucky if they can.
Not heard from C so more prayers and positivity there. Sadly the news came on the radio a moment ago that another one has died. May God rest his soul. Tragically it may have been a terrible accident as he may have been shot by one of his own.
Meus mendum commodo indulgeo mih.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
The thing with idealism is that it always evaporates when realism pops it head up and says 'guess what, you cherished a child-like belief in that, but actually this is the reality' and then it smacks you across the metaphorical face. Shattered dreams can work one of two ways, they can destroy and fester and eventually poison the bearer into bitterness or they can be used as a salutary lesson and galvanise the spirit into a more productive and essentially better course of action. Or sometimes they're just a wake-up call.
Today would have been my twenty-seventh wedding anniversary and there was snow on the ground that day too. I have nurtured a belief for nearly thirty years now that my life has taken a certain course of action as a result of an episode of murky behaviour in my past for which I am considerably less than proud.
The resulting atonement meant a journey off Karmic discovery as the epicentre of impact spread waves of consequence through the lives of those implicated directly or indirectly. Actually had an enormous guilt trip about how I had damaged paths in the short and long term not just for those nearest me, but also everybody included in the concentric circles of fall out. Simply put I chose one over another and had for many years now assumed I must take responsibility for my actions and seek contrition. To now discover that actually maybe I got everything base over apex and it was the reassessment and not assessment that was a chimera has left me, temporarily at least, feeling ashamed and debased.
My ex had his faults but he was never a materialist.
Daughter drove me to the hospital and it then took us two and a half hours to drive the four miles home. Stranded lorries, cars being pushed by strangers, blizzarding snow in abundance, and little car sliding all over the place like those images of geese trying to land on frozen water. Arrived home and she blithely said 'I'm of to boyfriends' and so is now driving again, this time on her own, through the Arctic conditions eight miles up hill and down dale in the night. Keep her safe please Lord.
H stranded in France and is trying to reschedule the return for the 23rd, but they'll be lucky if they can.
Not heard from C so more prayers and positivity there. Sadly the news came on the radio a moment ago that another one has died. May God rest his soul. Tragically it may have been a terrible accident as he may have been shot by one of his own.
Meus mendum commodo indulgeo mih.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Sunday 20 December 2009
Day 78 Week 11
Another poor lamb taken. Twenty nine years old - his adult life should just be beginning. May he RIP. Oh the poor family. Any life lost is sad but a young one's passing is a tragedy.
It may seem strange to grieve for a complete stranger but the sense of mourning that accompanies the news of another death of always makes me cry. I suppose it's a sense of all for one and one for all, these little individual components that make up the homogenous whole that is the army. The Unknown Soldier best explains the concept - no one knows who he really is but he somehow symbolises the loss of a whole generation and indeed subsequent generations, his anonymity serves to heighten the impact.
There was the most beautiful sunset tonight, the sky faded from blue into gold, resting above orange and then deep red, and the delicate new moon shone pink and looked as if it was winking. Made a wish and hope it comes true.
This is so strange, I'm sitting in my dining room with my excuse of a tree and outside still looks like Lapland and it's dark and cold and was totally silent but now the Police helicopter is sitting right over the roof of my house at an extremely low level. It's clattering rotor blades are echoing around and the walls are banging. Then realise that's what it must sound like in Afghanistan, well hopefully it should if the machines weren't so few. Suddenly a choir is singing Silent Night and am consumed with thoughts of soldier's in bleak hostile trenches making contact with an enemy in precisely the same condition as themselves. Briefly they came together and stopped the killing, only to be admonished for fear of subversion and an unofficial truce.
Usually have a huge fir-pine glistening with silver and gold dominating the room by now but this year couldn't face having one at all, and then felt that we had to bring the greenery into the house and so the compromise is a little live shrub in a pot with a small string of lights, and somehow it's perfect. Modestly respecting the time of year but not over burdened with indulgence and consumerism.
Iran teetering on the brink of internal unrest as well as confrontation with neighbouring states. A leading reformist cleric and critic of the government has died and it is feared the funeral tomorrow could erupt into violent demonstrations against the president. Yet more instability.
R out and about with friends, hopefully safe as the paths and roads are lethal. H rang home yesterday and may encounter severe difficulties trying to return home from France and not heard from C so thank goodness no developments.
Thank you everyone for all your kind wishes and parcels sent out to C and his guys.
Prayers, prayers and more prayers just for peace and calm and protection from harm. The Chinese statement 'may you have an interesting life' really can be a curse.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
It may seem strange to grieve for a complete stranger but the sense of mourning that accompanies the news of another death of always makes me cry. I suppose it's a sense of all for one and one for all, these little individual components that make up the homogenous whole that is the army. The Unknown Soldier best explains the concept - no one knows who he really is but he somehow symbolises the loss of a whole generation and indeed subsequent generations, his anonymity serves to heighten the impact.
There was the most beautiful sunset tonight, the sky faded from blue into gold, resting above orange and then deep red, and the delicate new moon shone pink and looked as if it was winking. Made a wish and hope it comes true.
This is so strange, I'm sitting in my dining room with my excuse of a tree and outside still looks like Lapland and it's dark and cold and was totally silent but now the Police helicopter is sitting right over the roof of my house at an extremely low level. It's clattering rotor blades are echoing around and the walls are banging. Then realise that's what it must sound like in Afghanistan, well hopefully it should if the machines weren't so few. Suddenly a choir is singing Silent Night and am consumed with thoughts of soldier's in bleak hostile trenches making contact with an enemy in precisely the same condition as themselves. Briefly they came together and stopped the killing, only to be admonished for fear of subversion and an unofficial truce.
Usually have a huge fir-pine glistening with silver and gold dominating the room by now but this year couldn't face having one at all, and then felt that we had to bring the greenery into the house and so the compromise is a little live shrub in a pot with a small string of lights, and somehow it's perfect. Modestly respecting the time of year but not over burdened with indulgence and consumerism.
Iran teetering on the brink of internal unrest as well as confrontation with neighbouring states. A leading reformist cleric and critic of the government has died and it is feared the funeral tomorrow could erupt into violent demonstrations against the president. Yet more instability.
R out and about with friends, hopefully safe as the paths and roads are lethal. H rang home yesterday and may encounter severe difficulties trying to return home from France and not heard from C so thank goodness no developments.
Thank you everyone for all your kind wishes and parcels sent out to C and his guys.
Prayers, prayers and more prayers just for peace and calm and protection from harm. The Chinese statement 'may you have an interesting life' really can be a curse.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Saturday 19 December 2009
Day 77 Week 10
Heard from fellow soldier's Mum and thank goodness no bad news to share but she's really finding it hard, all she wants is her boy home safe and well. Sent her lots of love and positivity, which she always sends too.
Actually had gorgeous dreams for the second night running. No hideous torture or demons or devastation just blissful contentedness - you know the feeling when you wake up and for a split second the fantasy was reality but then you realise it was merely sub-conscious happiness and it's back to square one with a thud.
The postman's just been and so picked up the mail from the doormat and thought nothing untoward when I saw a large white A4 envelope addressed to C. Opened it as required and then my head began to spin and the air rushed through my ears and I had to run to the loo and promptly vomited. It was the renewal notice for C's insurance and there in cold, black writing was the following list; quadriplegia, paraplegia, death, loss of both limbs, loss of both eyes, loss on one limb or one eye, loss of speech, loss of hearing, burns. The list of every form of agony and anguish a parent could read that could affect their offspring was clinically chronicled along with personal possessions such as applemac and mobile phone. The vicious substance that is modern war combined with tedious paperwork struck again, for there was a litany of the worst, most dreadful nightmare imaginable and it arrived with my gas bill, bank statement and junk mail offering double-glazing and a jacuzzi.
Want my dream world to be my real world.
Saw on the BBC website a story tucked away behind the climate change conference and ex-lions rugby player announces he's gay, that Iraq has ordered Iran to move away from their border and has accused the Iranians on invading their territory and taking control of an oil well. Have a ghastly feeling this could be one of those little stories that escalates into catastrophe, let's hope and pray not.
No news from C so KBO as Churchill used to say. R enjoyed her party at Heathrow and night in a posh hotel. Not heard from H so hope skiing and apres ski good. Snow still in abundance and am yet again stuck in my little house - at least I'm warm and cosy and not under attack from bombs and bullets though.
More prayers for the well being of loved ones.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Actually had gorgeous dreams for the second night running. No hideous torture or demons or devastation just blissful contentedness - you know the feeling when you wake up and for a split second the fantasy was reality but then you realise it was merely sub-conscious happiness and it's back to square one with a thud.
The postman's just been and so picked up the mail from the doormat and thought nothing untoward when I saw a large white A4 envelope addressed to C. Opened it as required and then my head began to spin and the air rushed through my ears and I had to run to the loo and promptly vomited. It was the renewal notice for C's insurance and there in cold, black writing was the following list; quadriplegia, paraplegia, death, loss of both limbs, loss of both eyes, loss on one limb or one eye, loss of speech, loss of hearing, burns. The list of every form of agony and anguish a parent could read that could affect their offspring was clinically chronicled along with personal possessions such as applemac and mobile phone. The vicious substance that is modern war combined with tedious paperwork struck again, for there was a litany of the worst, most dreadful nightmare imaginable and it arrived with my gas bill, bank statement and junk mail offering double-glazing and a jacuzzi.
Want my dream world to be my real world.
Saw on the BBC website a story tucked away behind the climate change conference and ex-lions rugby player announces he's gay, that Iraq has ordered Iran to move away from their border and has accused the Iranians on invading their territory and taking control of an oil well. Have a ghastly feeling this could be one of those little stories that escalates into catastrophe, let's hope and pray not.
No news from C so KBO as Churchill used to say. R enjoyed her party at Heathrow and night in a posh hotel. Not heard from H so hope skiing and apres ski good. Snow still in abundance and am yet again stuck in my little house - at least I'm warm and cosy and not under attack from bombs and bullets though.
More prayers for the well being of loved ones.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Friday 18 December 2009
Day 76 Week 10
Are human beings really like swans and intended to mate for life? Mulling over the way attitudes towards the nuclear family have changed and can't decide yay or ney.
Well was supposed to see my doctor yesterday but sadly he has had a family bereavement so that was cancelled, and then was supposed to go to the hospital today but our village is under six inches of snow so that was scuppered, so am well and truly confined to barracks. Then my dear buddy from work was going to take me to a carol concert in Windsor this evening but that's obviously off the agenda now. Best laid plans. The walls are marching in and cabin fever has arrived.
On a serious note the condition on the roads is treacherous and the M40 is closed because of yet another horrendous accident. R intent on going out tonight though.
Wonder if Afghanistan is snow-bound and thoughts turn to being exposed to freezing cold weather as well as all the other awfulness. Must send some thermal underwear out in the next parcel. Can't settle to anything today, am a human butterfly flitting about from one plant to the next, or in my case one unfinished task after another. Rang work this morning and as ever am overwhelmed by the messages of support and best wishes - just like they say it makes the most enormous difference when people show they genuinely care.
Fellow soldier's mum very down and finding this time very difficult too.
Received a lovely card through the post from my aunt and uncle today, always enjoy speaking to them as the connections with family are always special, it's that sense of belonging. Got this yearning to go back to childhood and a time when things seemed so safe and secure. Quite illogical I know.
R has just rung home and asked "Mum, can you like, run me a bath please - like not one too shallow or like too hot just like a normal one", actually glad to have the discipline of a set of instructions to follow.
Walked into the village yesterday evening and went into the gift shop and there standing in front of me was C's gorgeous girlfriend. She's just started work and had just got back from uni. We hugged each other and then discussed C and how it was all going. She'd been lucky enough to speak to him the day before and she thought he sounded OK but suspected he was homesick, then she said how much she missed him and how she was also feeling detached from normality. So much unquantified sorrow.
No news from Afghanistan so hope and pray all is well. Not heard from H so presume skiing living up to expectation and R has just had the dutifully drawn bath.
Want to feel eighteen again.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Well was supposed to see my doctor yesterday but sadly he has had a family bereavement so that was cancelled, and then was supposed to go to the hospital today but our village is under six inches of snow so that was scuppered, so am well and truly confined to barracks. Then my dear buddy from work was going to take me to a carol concert in Windsor this evening but that's obviously off the agenda now. Best laid plans. The walls are marching in and cabin fever has arrived.
On a serious note the condition on the roads is treacherous and the M40 is closed because of yet another horrendous accident. R intent on going out tonight though.
Wonder if Afghanistan is snow-bound and thoughts turn to being exposed to freezing cold weather as well as all the other awfulness. Must send some thermal underwear out in the next parcel. Can't settle to anything today, am a human butterfly flitting about from one plant to the next, or in my case one unfinished task after another. Rang work this morning and as ever am overwhelmed by the messages of support and best wishes - just like they say it makes the most enormous difference when people show they genuinely care.
Fellow soldier's mum very down and finding this time very difficult too.
Received a lovely card through the post from my aunt and uncle today, always enjoy speaking to them as the connections with family are always special, it's that sense of belonging. Got this yearning to go back to childhood and a time when things seemed so safe and secure. Quite illogical I know.
R has just rung home and asked "Mum, can you like, run me a bath please - like not one too shallow or like too hot just like a normal one", actually glad to have the discipline of a set of instructions to follow.
Walked into the village yesterday evening and went into the gift shop and there standing in front of me was C's gorgeous girlfriend. She's just started work and had just got back from uni. We hugged each other and then discussed C and how it was all going. She'd been lucky enough to speak to him the day before and she thought he sounded OK but suspected he was homesick, then she said how much she missed him and how she was also feeling detached from normality. So much unquantified sorrow.
No news from Afghanistan so hope and pray all is well. Not heard from H so presume skiing living up to expectation and R has just had the dutifully drawn bath.
Want to feel eighteen again.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Thursday 17 December 2009
Day 75 Week 10
The commanding officer in charge of the two Riflemen killed on Tuesday was speaking of their bravery. They were on patrol with soldiers from the Afghan National Army - two of whom were also killed - when they intercepted two suicide bombers on motorbikes and so instead of possibly scores of people being blown up at Sangin Bazaar, including many women, children and the elderly, only four lives were taken. They paid the ultimate price.
Heard the Secretary General of Nato, Anders Fogh Rasmussen, being interviewed on the BBC World Service the other night, on the eve of his visit to Moscow. He outlined at length the cultural and institutional obstacles involved in trying to promote efficiency and indeed honesty within the Afghan security forces. He admitted that at least eight to ten thousand soldiers desert from the ANA each year and the same number from the developing police force, the problems there also being compounded by the fact that may officers are heroin addicts. He outlined the need to develop trust and confidence with the people and to that end the tactics had been changed to 'working and living with and amongst', as opposed to being stationed on a base and dealing with individual skirmishes as they occurred. Sometimes it feels as if our people are expected not to simply be military personnel but actually miracle workers quite happy to pay the ultimate sacrifice.
When questioned about the change in attitude to Russia, with a softening of the diplomatic language including the word 'friend' being used, he initially gave the response that their interests were our interests and a safer Europe meant a safer world etc. But on further questioning he admitted the Afghan security forces had complained that western equipment was too complex and unsuitable for their climate and terrain, and that they preferred the simpler more reliable Kalashnikov. What an irony that the stalwart of late twentieth century terrorists and revolutionaries, and consequently the scourge of the western-capitalist block, the AK-47 (so named Avtomat Kalashnikova model of 1947) is now the target of weapons procurement by NATO.
Find I am becoming increasingly cynical about the whole thing. Certainly not doubting in any way the adherence to duty and responsibility by our soldiers, sailors and airmen, just the abject lack of morals sometimes applied by those making political decisions. Also find it so depressing that repeatedly over the ages the good intent of so many religions is hijacked by fanatics who twist the goodness and compassion of the creed into self-serving monstrosity.
Not heard from C so hoping that particular negative is in fact a positive to be cherished. R home and has a job interview in the morning, and H confirmed France is beautiful.
I'm off to the doctor this afternoon for a check up, but it's started to blizzard and hope to goodness it doesn't settle because I'm terrified of falling over - again. I have a bit of a reputation for being clumsy and accident prone.
Lots of prayers for loved ones everywhere.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Heard the Secretary General of Nato, Anders Fogh Rasmussen, being interviewed on the BBC World Service the other night, on the eve of his visit to Moscow. He outlined at length the cultural and institutional obstacles involved in trying to promote efficiency and indeed honesty within the Afghan security forces. He admitted that at least eight to ten thousand soldiers desert from the ANA each year and the same number from the developing police force, the problems there also being compounded by the fact that may officers are heroin addicts. He outlined the need to develop trust and confidence with the people and to that end the tactics had been changed to 'working and living with and amongst', as opposed to being stationed on a base and dealing with individual skirmishes as they occurred. Sometimes it feels as if our people are expected not to simply be military personnel but actually miracle workers quite happy to pay the ultimate sacrifice.
When questioned about the change in attitude to Russia, with a softening of the diplomatic language including the word 'friend' being used, he initially gave the response that their interests were our interests and a safer Europe meant a safer world etc. But on further questioning he admitted the Afghan security forces had complained that western equipment was too complex and unsuitable for their climate and terrain, and that they preferred the simpler more reliable Kalashnikov. What an irony that the stalwart of late twentieth century terrorists and revolutionaries, and consequently the scourge of the western-capitalist block, the AK-47 (so named Avtomat Kalashnikova model of 1947) is now the target of weapons procurement by NATO.
Find I am becoming increasingly cynical about the whole thing. Certainly not doubting in any way the adherence to duty and responsibility by our soldiers, sailors and airmen, just the abject lack of morals sometimes applied by those making political decisions. Also find it so depressing that repeatedly over the ages the good intent of so many religions is hijacked by fanatics who twist the goodness and compassion of the creed into self-serving monstrosity.
Not heard from C so hoping that particular negative is in fact a positive to be cherished. R home and has a job interview in the morning, and H confirmed France is beautiful.
I'm off to the doctor this afternoon for a check up, but it's started to blizzard and hope to goodness it doesn't settle because I'm terrified of falling over - again. I have a bit of a reputation for being clumsy and accident prone.
Lots of prayers for loved ones everywhere.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Wednesday 16 December 2009
Day 74 Week 10
Two more soldiers from my son's company were killed yesterday. The suicide bombers also killed two members of the Afghan army who were working with the Rifles' trying to instil confidence and a sense of security within the indigenous population. May they RIP.
The awful truth that if you hear it first on the media then it's not one of your own kith and kin prevails, and now the routine is I send a group text to all my contacts to inform them C was OK that time.
My words seem feeble and pathetic within the context of such grief so I am extracting from the diary of Major Richard Streatfeild covering his time on the front with 3 Rifles, as posted on the BBC website. The following are his words posted 11th December 2009
"The comfort of the sleeping bag in the chill morning air. The invigorating shock of the occasional cold shower. Clean combats dried in the dusty air.
"Hot coffee, bacon slice, beans and porridge. The acrid ammonia of the desert rose and the rich odour of the deep trench latrine. 80 pounds of armour, ammunition, kit and clobber.
"The crackle of radio communications. clipped and terse.
"High walls, narrow alleys, open fields, dusty roads and clothes; heat shimmer, rain on hot stones, mist in the green zone.
"The Somme like suction of the irrigated poppy field. Waist deep in water bobbing with excrement.
"Sweat and steam on protective specs. Careful steps. The adrenaline injection of imminent action. The crack and thump of lead trough the air, the fizz of a rocket propelled grenade.
"The hornet drone of the helicopter spitting fire. The high octane low pass of the jet.
"Sweat, mud, blood, fear, bravery. Calm after the storm. Eerie calm. Tobacco spat, bines puffed, the smoke of dung fires.
"Bravado, banter, humour, laughter. Grief like a stone. The IED explosion, the slam of a metal container door to similar to distinguish. Nervous relaxation.
"Sunset on jagged peaks, bright stars, crisp nights, moon shadow. Noodles, meat and boiled tinned carrots, chocolate sponge.
"The tapping of the keyboard reporting to commanders. Late nights and gentle snoring of men at rest" .......
*****************
....... "There is no such ting as a normal day in Afghanistan.
"One of my Platoons has begun to partner a Platoon from the Afghan National Army (ANA). The Afghans have already got a small team of UK mentors in their camp, but this move is part of the renewed effort to help the ANA take on the insurgency with more vigour.
"All the planning and conduct of patrols is done jointly. The Platoon has worked extremely hard in the last forty eight hours to give their new home enough protection.
"The insurgents have responded in a number of ways but today they out did themselves.
"The ANA Platoon had received some information that the insurgents were going to try to strap an IED to a donkey and send it towards the camp. Donkeys do not have the reputation of being the most compliant animal, so it was treated with some scepticism at first.
"Then in the afternoon the gate guard realised there was something suspicious going on. A group had just let go of a donkey a short way from camp and hurried off. He tried to divert the animal with flares and other warnings.
"Obstinacy not being the best quality in that situation, the beast of burden eventually had to be stopped with a rifle shot.
"The team went out and established there was something very suspicious under the bundle of hay carried by the donkey.
"Eventually one brave ANA warrior set fire to the hay with a flare from a distance, and 30 seconds later there was a considerable explosion. No one was hurt ...... it is impossible to report a donkey IED up the chain of command without ....... a feeling that the world is slightly off its axis".
The Major then went on to describe how two young Afghan children aged nine were horrifically injured by an IED, and despite the efforts of the soldiers to save them they died on the helicopter on the way to Camp Bastion.
R on her way home for the holiday and broke - had to release emergency funding to facilitate travel home. H in France and hopefully enjoying avant-piste, and Buckinghamshire graced with snow.
God bless those in danger.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
The awful truth that if you hear it first on the media then it's not one of your own kith and kin prevails, and now the routine is I send a group text to all my contacts to inform them C was OK that time.
My words seem feeble and pathetic within the context of such grief so I am extracting from the diary of Major Richard Streatfeild covering his time on the front with 3 Rifles, as posted on the BBC website. The following are his words posted 11th December 2009
"The comfort of the sleeping bag in the chill morning air. The invigorating shock of the occasional cold shower. Clean combats dried in the dusty air.
"Hot coffee, bacon slice, beans and porridge. The acrid ammonia of the desert rose and the rich odour of the deep trench latrine. 80 pounds of armour, ammunition, kit and clobber.
"The crackle of radio communications. clipped and terse.
"High walls, narrow alleys, open fields, dusty roads and clothes; heat shimmer, rain on hot stones, mist in the green zone.
"The Somme like suction of the irrigated poppy field. Waist deep in water bobbing with excrement.
"Sweat and steam on protective specs. Careful steps. The adrenaline injection of imminent action. The crack and thump of lead trough the air, the fizz of a rocket propelled grenade.
"The hornet drone of the helicopter spitting fire. The high octane low pass of the jet.
"Sweat, mud, blood, fear, bravery. Calm after the storm. Eerie calm. Tobacco spat, bines puffed, the smoke of dung fires.
"Bravado, banter, humour, laughter. Grief like a stone. The IED explosion, the slam of a metal container door to similar to distinguish. Nervous relaxation.
"Sunset on jagged peaks, bright stars, crisp nights, moon shadow. Noodles, meat and boiled tinned carrots, chocolate sponge.
"The tapping of the keyboard reporting to commanders. Late nights and gentle snoring of men at rest" .......
*****************
....... "There is no such ting as a normal day in Afghanistan.
"One of my Platoons has begun to partner a Platoon from the Afghan National Army (ANA). The Afghans have already got a small team of UK mentors in their camp, but this move is part of the renewed effort to help the ANA take on the insurgency with more vigour.
"All the planning and conduct of patrols is done jointly. The Platoon has worked extremely hard in the last forty eight hours to give their new home enough protection.
"The insurgents have responded in a number of ways but today they out did themselves.
"The ANA Platoon had received some information that the insurgents were going to try to strap an IED to a donkey and send it towards the camp. Donkeys do not have the reputation of being the most compliant animal, so it was treated with some scepticism at first.
"Then in the afternoon the gate guard realised there was something suspicious going on. A group had just let go of a donkey a short way from camp and hurried off. He tried to divert the animal with flares and other warnings.
"Obstinacy not being the best quality in that situation, the beast of burden eventually had to be stopped with a rifle shot.
"The team went out and established there was something very suspicious under the bundle of hay carried by the donkey.
"Eventually one brave ANA warrior set fire to the hay with a flare from a distance, and 30 seconds later there was a considerable explosion. No one was hurt ...... it is impossible to report a donkey IED up the chain of command without ....... a feeling that the world is slightly off its axis".
The Major then went on to describe how two young Afghan children aged nine were horrifically injured by an IED, and despite the efforts of the soldiers to save them they died on the helicopter on the way to Camp Bastion.
R on her way home for the holiday and broke - had to release emergency funding to facilitate travel home. H in France and hopefully enjoying avant-piste, and Buckinghamshire graced with snow.
God bless those in danger.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Tuesday 15 December 2009
Day 73 Week 10
Good to have H home. He's going in the early hours but is such good company and he's treated us to an M & S supper tonight.
Heard from fellow soldier's Mum and she's finding this a very hard time to deal with too. She misses her boy and was also devastated when she accidentally missed a call from him. Christmas is obviously being avoided by swathes of people all over the country, all just wishing it would go away.
More helicopters are finally to be sent to Afghanistan but at the cost of slashing the existing defence budget. RAF home bases are to be closed amongst other measures to fund the war, but surely with the existing threat to our own shores often coming from the sky that just smacks of irresponsible short-termism? Find it all rather depressing really. H concerned about the impact it's going to have on our own security and that worries me as he's not one to exaggerate.
R hopefully enjoying uni and have not heard from C so am relieved for the moment.
Lots of prayers and love to absent friends.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Heard from fellow soldier's Mum and she's finding this a very hard time to deal with too. She misses her boy and was also devastated when she accidentally missed a call from him. Christmas is obviously being avoided by swathes of people all over the country, all just wishing it would go away.
More helicopters are finally to be sent to Afghanistan but at the cost of slashing the existing defence budget. RAF home bases are to be closed amongst other measures to fund the war, but surely with the existing threat to our own shores often coming from the sky that just smacks of irresponsible short-termism? Find it all rather depressing really. H concerned about the impact it's going to have on our own security and that worries me as he's not one to exaggerate.
R hopefully enjoying uni and have not heard from C so am relieved for the moment.
Lots of prayers and love to absent friends.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Monday 14 December 2009
Day 72 Week 10
Had the most wonderful surprise and last night after I'd got ready for bed (yes - half past six - quite a late one actually) the phone rang and H had decided to come home and not go skiing straight from Brighton. So gorgeous to have him home for a few days. He took me out this afternoon and we sent a couple of parcels out to C. R was in a really lovely mood and enjoyed the ball very much and then she popped back to uni, but only for a few days because it's the end of term on Friday. Tempest fugit.
Had a crushingly scary thought and hoped it was just a happy moment of kismet that he's home. The last time this happened was when Lusty broke down and he was able to attend C's leaving do against all odds - suffering a lot of ribbing along the lines of 'what did you do to her, and what will happen when you get caught'. Being an avid believer in destiny and things happening for a purpose, the like of which we don't necessarily understand for a long time hence, can nurture a fertile imagination and must work on just being grateful he's here and no more than that.
Spoke to my line manager today and felt really nostalgic for my colleagues and work. They really do the most worthwhile job and everyone is so kind and professional and just bloody good at what they do - even ofsted said so. I think it will be good to rejoin the human race and become a fully functioning person (God willing) in January - it's alarming how quickly one can become institutionalised into invalidity.
Just cooking dinner and saying a few prayers for the happiness and well being of those away from home.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Had a crushingly scary thought and hoped it was just a happy moment of kismet that he's home. The last time this happened was when Lusty broke down and he was able to attend C's leaving do against all odds - suffering a lot of ribbing along the lines of 'what did you do to her, and what will happen when you get caught'. Being an avid believer in destiny and things happening for a purpose, the like of which we don't necessarily understand for a long time hence, can nurture a fertile imagination and must work on just being grateful he's here and no more than that.
Spoke to my line manager today and felt really nostalgic for my colleagues and work. They really do the most worthwhile job and everyone is so kind and professional and just bloody good at what they do - even ofsted said so. I think it will be good to rejoin the human race and become a fully functioning person (God willing) in January - it's alarming how quickly one can become institutionalised into invalidity.
Just cooking dinner and saying a few prayers for the happiness and well being of those away from home.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Sunday 13 December 2009
Day 71 Week 10
Golly - week 10. Thank goodness for him being safe so far and just pray that's the way it continues.
The weather is bitterly cold and it's just two weeks to Christmas Day and there's a rumour it could snow. C loves the snow, he always goes sledging and throws himself around with cheerful abandon and even ended up on the front page of the local paper one year, when for all the world our common looked like something out of the Alps.
My dear neighbour has just popped round and bless her, as she knew I was struggling with the whole time-of-year/Afghan thing, so she's lent me her light box to see if that will help to lift the spirits. Another friend rang me out of the blue and said 'what's up' as if she could sense exactly how I was feeling at that moment in time. Then my dear colleagues from work have sent cards and e-mails full of love and best wishes, and my line manager has left me a lovely message on my answerphone just checking how things are and hoping things are good. I cannot explain what it means when people are so kind and care so much.
I was talking to a close friend about the sense of not belonging that accompanies someone going off to a war zone, it's as if you live in a different world to everyone else. In the first and second world war people were united by a common sense of purpose. Everyone had someone away fighting or defending somewhere, and those at home were also under attack from the skies above so there was no separation of resolve. But this is different. I remember when my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer and that was the same feeling - looking at people as an outsider and not feeling as if we inhabited the same planet.
See that the Prime Minister has visited the troops and stayed overnight in Sangin. He has said that there will be more and better resources made available but that there will be cuts in other areas to pay for them. He stressed that it was a vital campaign to wage and that if we withdrew there would be a direct threat to home security. Let's hope that's true.
Another parcel and letter to be despatched but apparently we're now being asked not to send stuff out to loved ones as logistics cannot deal with the vast amount being sent from home.
R out with boyfriend and the graduation ball was awesome. H visiting old friends in Brighton and then off skiing in France and staying in the chalet of a friend.
Lots of love and prayers for the safety of everyone.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
The weather is bitterly cold and it's just two weeks to Christmas Day and there's a rumour it could snow. C loves the snow, he always goes sledging and throws himself around with cheerful abandon and even ended up on the front page of the local paper one year, when for all the world our common looked like something out of the Alps.
My dear neighbour has just popped round and bless her, as she knew I was struggling with the whole time-of-year/Afghan thing, so she's lent me her light box to see if that will help to lift the spirits. Another friend rang me out of the blue and said 'what's up' as if she could sense exactly how I was feeling at that moment in time. Then my dear colleagues from work have sent cards and e-mails full of love and best wishes, and my line manager has left me a lovely message on my answerphone just checking how things are and hoping things are good. I cannot explain what it means when people are so kind and care so much.
I was talking to a close friend about the sense of not belonging that accompanies someone going off to a war zone, it's as if you live in a different world to everyone else. In the first and second world war people were united by a common sense of purpose. Everyone had someone away fighting or defending somewhere, and those at home were also under attack from the skies above so there was no separation of resolve. But this is different. I remember when my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer and that was the same feeling - looking at people as an outsider and not feeling as if we inhabited the same planet.
See that the Prime Minister has visited the troops and stayed overnight in Sangin. He has said that there will be more and better resources made available but that there will be cuts in other areas to pay for them. He stressed that it was a vital campaign to wage and that if we withdrew there would be a direct threat to home security. Let's hope that's true.
Another parcel and letter to be despatched but apparently we're now being asked not to send stuff out to loved ones as logistics cannot deal with the vast amount being sent from home.
R out with boyfriend and the graduation ball was awesome. H visiting old friends in Brighton and then off skiing in France and staying in the chalet of a friend.
Lots of love and prayers for the safety of everyone.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Saturday 12 December 2009
Retrospective
DAY67 WEEK 9
Wednesday 9 December 2009
Sorry for the hindsight nature of the blog just now, but was persuaded to attend H's graduation after seeking medical approval. As the time for departure approached I experienced the most tremendous sense of panic at the prospect of leaving home for a few days and very nearly chickened out of the whole thing. But thankfully was persuaded that actually to get away for a short while was possibly just what was required right now, and it was pointed out that I would feel even more wretched knowing I wasn't with my first son on such a special occasion.
So on Wednesday my dear friend collected me and I sat on the back seat with my leg elevated, and we stopped every hour for me to walk around and do my physio, and finally eight hours later we arrived in Dartmouth. The highlight of the journey had been a call from C who was really sorry he couldn't be with us and I suspect more homesick than usual. He said everything was OK though and described the whole thing as five per cent terror interrupting ninety-five per cent boredom.
As we pulled up outside our hotel my eyes couldn't believe what they saw because there, right next to our parked vehicle was H on his mobile phone. Apparently the scream I let out left my chauffeur's ears ringing, but it was completely involuntary and so very good to see him after such a long time. We hugged and hugged and hugged and then I gave H the letter that had arrived from Afghanistan from C.
The hotel was beautiful, four poster bed and sunken bath and they had even up graded us from the original booking. Then H casually said 'mum, you're having lunch with Prince Edward tomorrow' and this time I didn't scream and just dropped my jaw. Then H said 'well, aren't you going to ask me why?', and when I was finally able to speak and ask for an explanation, it turned out H had won best Warfare Cadet. The prize for such was a beautiful edition of a complete history of the Royal Navy with citation, twenty-five pound cheque and an invitation to cocktails and lunch in the station Commodore's drawing room with the prince.
Then C rang again from Afghanistan and just about managed not to cry.
DAY 68 WEEK 9
Thursday 10th December 2009
Actually slept well for the first time in ages and then prepared for the day.
Intense security is always a constant reminder of the times we live in and was scanned and searched and finally put on a coach for the Naval College.
H had arranged for me to be given appropriate seating as the tradition is the guests should stand for the whole affair. Then the ceremony began and it was spectacular. All the cadets marched onto the square in their platoons and it then transpired H was leading his men and women. Much marching up and down followed, all accompanied by the Royal Marine's band paying jolly old tunes and clashing their cymbals loudly, and then Prince Edward inspected them all. Part of which involved H being introduced to the prince and then doing the same honour for his comrades by accompanying HRH during the inspection. Just wished C could have been there and very quietly wiped away a tear of joy and sadness that was slowing sliding down the side of my face.
Then we had to accompany HRH and the Commodore out of the ante room where everyone was having cocktails and over to his house for the lunch. I was determined not to have my walking stick in any subsequent photographs and so H took my arm and helped me down the steps as all stood to attention alongside.
The Commodore's house was exquisite and the view from the many french windows over the estuary was breathtaking. My ex-husband was extremely pleasant and charming and there was no awkwardness whatsoever. We discussed C and Afghanistan and both agreed C was finding today difficult, and it was comforting to speak to the only other person in this world who is experiencing C being at war as I did. We'd spent so many years squabbling that we'd forgotten common territory and it was good to rediscover it.
The Prince chatted to us and H for about ten minutes and discussed the training and congratulated him on doing so well, and he is so witty and easy to talk to. HRH asked me if this was the first graduation service I had attended and my ex and I looked at each other and laughed and I said 'actually sir, I've been to the Army, the Navy and the Air Force' - but that's another story for another day. I told him my younger son was with the Rifles and he very soberly said it was so brave of them but they were doing such a good job.
The food was delicious and it was like being on the set of a movie - never eaten lunch three people away from royalty before. Couldn't forget C though and just prayed he was safe.
We then went back to the hotel for a rest and out for a meal in the evening as H wanted everyone to dine together. Halfway through the meal C rang again and spoke to his father, then H, then me and everyone else, and he sounded so tired and old and it was obvious he wished he was with us, and in fact in spirit was. That was when the flood gates opened. Stifled the tears but had to make apologies and leave and once back at the hotel room just buried my head in the pillow and cried, and cried, and cried.
DAY 69 WEEK 9
Friday 11th December 2009
R stayed on for the ball with a champagne breakfast on Saturday morning but we checked out and left for home. Repeated the routine on the return leg and broke the journey with a stay at a friend's beautiful house in Somerset, finally arriving home yesterday evening.
Felt utterly desolate. To arrive back to the silent, dark house was like a kick in the stomach - this is a bloody nightmare and doesn't ever get any easier, just more of a struggle. It's like a war of attrition slowly and deliberately grinding you into the ground.
DAY 70 WEEK 9
Saturday 12th December 2009
Lazy day. Did my physio but feel really tired as I suppose I did more in the last three days than possibly in the last three months combined.
Heard from fellow soldier's Mum and all well with her thank goodness.
No news from C and we all agreed he's probably used his entire phone allocation for a very long time with all the calls home during the graduation. Put together another parcel for him (hugs and kisses) and a friend is developing some photographs to send him.
God willing everyone safe and happy.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Tuesday 8 December 2009
Day 66 Week 9
Well that was scary - couldn't log in and it kept telling me to go away and that I didn't exist and I had enabled cookies???? Often thought IT was a dark art.
Missed another call last night. This is quite extraordinary because I literally have the phone welded to my personage and on the two occasions I misplace it, I miss calls. This time I had left it in my coat pocket in the downstairs loo with the door closed, only for ten minutes, but sod's law kicked in and that was that.
Received a letter from C this morning. It was so sweet, thanking me for parcels and for sorting out all the financial confusion at the start, I was so touched but I don't want him to feel indebted in the least, it's my privilege to be able to help him in any way I can. He made the inevitable quip about H being the second favourite son - they have this rivalry that each is the favourite and the truth is I neither have a most favourite or least favourite child, each is an integral third of a whole that is infinite and immeasurable. He said it was OK out there and that he was getting used to things now and would I please give the letter he'd written to H. The funny thing is his handwriting has changed and it looks like an old man's script, much neater though.
H is due to graduate at Dartmouth on Friday and it looked for a while as if I wasn't able to go. But a friend has taken three days of work to drive me down (sitting with leg elevated on the back seat like a resplendent old duchess), and H has arranged for reasonable adjustment to be made re standing, walking and leg room and so it is possible for me to attend. The awful thing is though I am dreading leaving the village - suppose someone needs to get hold of me urgently, how would they know where to contact me. And so, irony of ironies, for the second year running I get to see my ex-husband on his birthday. Every silver lining has a cloud.
Is there really any conspiracy attached to coincidence or is it just fate. What are the odds of both boys ending up as officers in the forces and each graduating on their father's birthday?
Saw another poor boy was killed yesterday RIP.
Watched the widow of the bomb disposal expert on Newsnight last night and she looked as if the light had gone off inside her, she did speak extremely well though. She emphasised the hidden toll of the badly injured - a lot of them truly horrific in nature and how we must not forget them and their sacrifice. From 2001 to 2009 there have been two hundred and six service personnel killed in total and in this year alone we have just lost the hundredth casualty - puts into context what a bloody battle this is.
Dreadful car bombs in Baghdad killing over a hundred people and injuring five hundred. The Chilcot Enquiry has been told that there was no forward planning whatsoever for what would happen after the invasion when the vacuum of Saddam needed to be filled. So we have more carnage. Why do we never learn from history.
Just feel so tired all the time.
R back at uni and the house is quiet. Lots of love to those away.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Missed another call last night. This is quite extraordinary because I literally have the phone welded to my personage and on the two occasions I misplace it, I miss calls. This time I had left it in my coat pocket in the downstairs loo with the door closed, only for ten minutes, but sod's law kicked in and that was that.
Received a letter from C this morning. It was so sweet, thanking me for parcels and for sorting out all the financial confusion at the start, I was so touched but I don't want him to feel indebted in the least, it's my privilege to be able to help him in any way I can. He made the inevitable quip about H being the second favourite son - they have this rivalry that each is the favourite and the truth is I neither have a most favourite or least favourite child, each is an integral third of a whole that is infinite and immeasurable. He said it was OK out there and that he was getting used to things now and would I please give the letter he'd written to H. The funny thing is his handwriting has changed and it looks like an old man's script, much neater though.
H is due to graduate at Dartmouth on Friday and it looked for a while as if I wasn't able to go. But a friend has taken three days of work to drive me down (sitting with leg elevated on the back seat like a resplendent old duchess), and H has arranged for reasonable adjustment to be made re standing, walking and leg room and so it is possible for me to attend. The awful thing is though I am dreading leaving the village - suppose someone needs to get hold of me urgently, how would they know where to contact me. And so, irony of ironies, for the second year running I get to see my ex-husband on his birthday. Every silver lining has a cloud.
Is there really any conspiracy attached to coincidence or is it just fate. What are the odds of both boys ending up as officers in the forces and each graduating on their father's birthday?
Saw another poor boy was killed yesterday RIP.
Watched the widow of the bomb disposal expert on Newsnight last night and she looked as if the light had gone off inside her, she did speak extremely well though. She emphasised the hidden toll of the badly injured - a lot of them truly horrific in nature and how we must not forget them and their sacrifice. From 2001 to 2009 there have been two hundred and six service personnel killed in total and in this year alone we have just lost the hundredth casualty - puts into context what a bloody battle this is.
Dreadful car bombs in Baghdad killing over a hundred people and injuring five hundred. The Chilcot Enquiry has been told that there was no forward planning whatsoever for what would happen after the invasion when the vacuum of Saddam needed to be filled. So we have more carnage. Why do we never learn from history.
Just feel so tired all the time.
R back at uni and the house is quiet. Lots of love to those away.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Monday 7 December 2009
Day 65 Week 9
Can't blog today. Am utterly spent. Just don't want to play at this anymore.
R hopefully safe back at uni and H rang and is very busy finishing off. Not heard from C just said the usual prayers for the safety of those away.
Speak soon, A soldier's Mum x
R hopefully safe back at uni and H rang and is very busy finishing off. Not heard from C just said the usual prayers for the safety of those away.
Speak soon, A soldier's Mum x
Sunday 6 December 2009
Day 64 Week 9
Can't believe it's been nine weeks. In some respects time has flown by and in others it has stood still. Grateful that all has been OK so far and just pray it continues in the same manner.
R home and being vile. She's in such a foul mood - snappy, surly, snide, am quite looking forward to her going back to uni dv. It's the incessant bitchiness that is so difficult to handle, actually it's just downright nasty. Just wish she could be pleasant. My mother used to say, just because you love somebody unconditionally doesn't mean you have to like them all the time, and I now know what she meant by that.
Went to a friend's house with another friend this afternoon and it was good to see them and enjoy their company, and then come away with a sense of positivity.
Passing through a meteor belt again tonight so hopefully will get to see one of the little beauties dance across the sky again. It's so cold though - at least that should mean a clear sky.
Not heard from H and wonder how his roommates have fared. In the small world that is the armed forces, the brother of one of H's comrades at Dartmouth is graduating from Sandhurst and is a colleague of one of C's friends. Well they do say you're never more than three people away from anyone.
Miss C enormously - have had enough now and just want him home and safe. Life used to be such fun and now it's so different.
Lots of love and best wishes to those away from home.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
R home and being vile. She's in such a foul mood - snappy, surly, snide, am quite looking forward to her going back to uni dv. It's the incessant bitchiness that is so difficult to handle, actually it's just downright nasty. Just wish she could be pleasant. My mother used to say, just because you love somebody unconditionally doesn't mean you have to like them all the time, and I now know what she meant by that.
Went to a friend's house with another friend this afternoon and it was good to see them and enjoy their company, and then come away with a sense of positivity.
Passing through a meteor belt again tonight so hopefully will get to see one of the little beauties dance across the sky again. It's so cold though - at least that should mean a clear sky.
Not heard from H and wonder how his roommates have fared. In the small world that is the armed forces, the brother of one of H's comrades at Dartmouth is graduating from Sandhurst and is a colleague of one of C's friends. Well they do say you're never more than three people away from anyone.
Miss C enormously - have had enough now and just want him home and safe. Life used to be such fun and now it's so different.
Lots of love and best wishes to those away from home.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Saturday 5 December 2009
Day 63 Week 8
Extremely short blog as my little car (and I know it sounds ridiculous but also old buddy) has actually died. Far too complicated for me to understand what end went and blew what out, but alas tango-two-two-zero is no more. A dear friend, who used to be in the trade, was my knight in shining armour and has sorted out a new one for me, and all I have to do is pay for it. Success plucked from the jaws of disaster and am now the proud owner of one of those little 'citiminis' that looks like the Noddymobile and runs on air and costs next to nothing to tax. If this one turns out to be half as good and loyal as the last then I will be extremely fortunate and have nothing to complain about - literally the only time my old car broke down was the other week and prior to that nothing failed, just wear and tear.
Did a short walk around the village last night and it was like something out of Dickens, there was even a snow machine with the little children running through the artificial flakes. It looked for all the world like one of those European Christmas fairs and the pouring rain certainly did not spoil the fun.
Then R had her friends around as planned and I was banished to my bedroom with Andrew Marr and his brilliant history of the twentieth century. They were very well behaved and lots of giggling and gossip and 'oh-my-God-nooooooo', followed by 'yeh, like, I know', again followed by more oh-my-Godding. I think I must have been a very boring, serious teenager. I was allowed out of my cell for the lighting of the cake and the look of excited bewilderment on her face was just as it has always been, and then she got to make her wish.
H over the moon at passing and so excited about the rest of his training. He stays on at Dartmouth for the warfare bit, but will live a little more comfortably than he has done so far.
Not heard from C and have said my prayers for everyone in danger anywhere, to be please kept safe.
Raining again.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Did a short walk around the village last night and it was like something out of Dickens, there was even a snow machine with the little children running through the artificial flakes. It looked for all the world like one of those European Christmas fairs and the pouring rain certainly did not spoil the fun.
Then R had her friends around as planned and I was banished to my bedroom with Andrew Marr and his brilliant history of the twentieth century. They were very well behaved and lots of giggling and gossip and 'oh-my-God-nooooooo', followed by 'yeh, like, I know', again followed by more oh-my-Godding. I think I must have been a very boring, serious teenager. I was allowed out of my cell for the lighting of the cake and the look of excited bewilderment on her face was just as it has always been, and then she got to make her wish.
H over the moon at passing and so excited about the rest of his training. He stays on at Dartmouth for the warfare bit, but will live a little more comfortably than he has done so far.
Not heard from C and have said my prayers for everyone in danger anywhere, to be please kept safe.
Raining again.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Friday 4 December 2009
Day 62 Week 8
Well it's R's birthday and she was taken out for dinner by her boyfriend last night and she's having friends around for drinks tonight here. Can't believe how quickly the years have flown, doesn't seem five minutes since she was born - and in all honesty going even further back, to when I was nineteen myself. Would I do things differently if I had a magic wand? The answer would have to be a definite no because I wouldn't want anything different about my kids whatsoever and that's what really counts. Might tweak a few of the minor details though.
She was such a good little baby, placid and nice natured and absolutely no trouble whatsoever. She was even born really quickly - we arrived at the hospital and half past midnight in a bitterly cold December wind, and out she popped at one-fifteen. My pain relief consisted of two paracetamols - not to be recommended as an effective treatment for labour pains. And then she was the most amenable little girl, kindness personified and with such a sweet countenance. Happy memories. Moving swiftly through the teenage years, can honestly say how proud I am to have such a gorgeous darling daughter, well most of the time!
At last some good news. H just rang and he's passed his course and is now a Sub Lieutenant in the Royal Navy. The week was gruelling and he said he had four hours sleep in six days and he had to play the role of four officers from captain down and apparently did really well, so proud mummy moment and well done H. It wasn't a given that he was through and some poor people have failed and have to repeat at least the last six weeks, and some have gone completely. Then I said 'you know it's your sister's birthday today don't you luvvie?', and he said 'shit, no, yes, no, yes it's not, what date is it today, let me look at my watch, it's the third, no it's not til tomorrow'. So I replied 'did you forget to put the date back at the end of last month darling because November only has thirty days?' and he said 'bugger'. Lets hope his 'navy head' is more organised.
Saw my friend and fellow soldier's Mum yesterday afternoon and it was so good to speak to her. Her son did successfully survive his first tour thank God, but she told me she thought she was going mad during the six months. He's a lovely boy but sadly out of a group of four who joined up and went to Harrogate together, all the others are gone. All so young.
Not heard from C so lots of prayers that all is safe and well. Another parcel ready to go with love and kisses and hugging.
It's the village Christmas open evening tonight. There's carols around the Christmas tree with all the village schools in attendance, and the shops open late and offer mulled wine and mince pies. The scouts provide a barbeque outside the greengrocer's who in turn roasts chestnuts on the pavement, and the church is open with the choir rehearsing more festivities. Everything of course accompanied with hats, gloves, scarves and clouds of white breath in the crisp early evening air. It's all together so traditional and like being beamed back in time.
Back to reality and R looked at me with utter disdain when I asked if she'd come and take a stroll with me down to see the little ones doing what she used to love to do, when not that much younger. 'You must be like, joking, like, and anyway, like, why would I want to do that? Here's a list of the drinks for tonight'. Will try and be brave and put in an appearance but memories of happier times might turn me into a coward with avoidance tactics.
The day is golden and have just had my broken kitchen drawer fixed.
Love to all.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
She was such a good little baby, placid and nice natured and absolutely no trouble whatsoever. She was even born really quickly - we arrived at the hospital and half past midnight in a bitterly cold December wind, and out she popped at one-fifteen. My pain relief consisted of two paracetamols - not to be recommended as an effective treatment for labour pains. And then she was the most amenable little girl, kindness personified and with such a sweet countenance. Happy memories. Moving swiftly through the teenage years, can honestly say how proud I am to have such a gorgeous darling daughter, well most of the time!
At last some good news. H just rang and he's passed his course and is now a Sub Lieutenant in the Royal Navy. The week was gruelling and he said he had four hours sleep in six days and he had to play the role of four officers from captain down and apparently did really well, so proud mummy moment and well done H. It wasn't a given that he was through and some poor people have failed and have to repeat at least the last six weeks, and some have gone completely. Then I said 'you know it's your sister's birthday today don't you luvvie?', and he said 'shit, no, yes, no, yes it's not, what date is it today, let me look at my watch, it's the third, no it's not til tomorrow'. So I replied 'did you forget to put the date back at the end of last month darling because November only has thirty days?' and he said 'bugger'. Lets hope his 'navy head' is more organised.
Saw my friend and fellow soldier's Mum yesterday afternoon and it was so good to speak to her. Her son did successfully survive his first tour thank God, but she told me she thought she was going mad during the six months. He's a lovely boy but sadly out of a group of four who joined up and went to Harrogate together, all the others are gone. All so young.
Not heard from C so lots of prayers that all is safe and well. Another parcel ready to go with love and kisses and hugging.
It's the village Christmas open evening tonight. There's carols around the Christmas tree with all the village schools in attendance, and the shops open late and offer mulled wine and mince pies. The scouts provide a barbeque outside the greengrocer's who in turn roasts chestnuts on the pavement, and the church is open with the choir rehearsing more festivities. Everything of course accompanied with hats, gloves, scarves and clouds of white breath in the crisp early evening air. It's all together so traditional and like being beamed back in time.
Back to reality and R looked at me with utter disdain when I asked if she'd come and take a stroll with me down to see the little ones doing what she used to love to do, when not that much younger. 'You must be like, joking, like, and anyway, like, why would I want to do that? Here's a list of the drinks for tonight'. Will try and be brave and put in an appearance but memories of happier times might turn me into a coward with avoidance tactics.
The day is golden and have just had my broken kitchen drawer fixed.
Love to all.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Thursday 3 December 2009
Day 61 Week 8
It's bitterly cold here in our village and everyone's wrapped up against the elements as winter is well and truly upon us. The Christmas lights along the high street are so pretty, all silver and blue and sparkly, but try as I might I just can't do Christmas this year. Must reverse the mindset though because H and R will want to celebrate traditionally and it's not fair on them to be all humbug. Truth is can't really enjoy anything anymore.
Heard on the radio that the General in charge of South Afghanistan has changed the emphasis of the campaign from trying to defeat the insurgency to protecting the local population. This involves working closely with the infant (and patently corrupt) police force and living amongst the indigenous community. Oh God C must be living out amongst the people, most of whom are apparently really gentle folk but they must be so exposed and vulnerable out in the countryside. Also he is so trusting and gullible and has always tended to see the good in human nature and never be suspicious or wary. It's all too horrid.
My aunt rang this morning and more parcels to be dispatched to the front. Everyone is so kind. Apparently Nottinghamshire is freezing too and with a north wind whipping down maybe snow could be on its way. Afghanistan must also be piercingly raw. Hope they've got enough warm clothing and equipment.
R hopefully on her way home and it's her nineteenth birthday tomorrow. More internet shopping has arrived. Not heard from H so he must still be bobbing about on the river.
Thank you everyone for all your kind support over the problems and difficulties C has to face.
God bless everyone
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Heard on the radio that the General in charge of South Afghanistan has changed the emphasis of the campaign from trying to defeat the insurgency to protecting the local population. This involves working closely with the infant (and patently corrupt) police force and living amongst the indigenous community. Oh God C must be living out amongst the people, most of whom are apparently really gentle folk but they must be so exposed and vulnerable out in the countryside. Also he is so trusting and gullible and has always tended to see the good in human nature and never be suspicious or wary. It's all too horrid.
My aunt rang this morning and more parcels to be dispatched to the front. Everyone is so kind. Apparently Nottinghamshire is freezing too and with a north wind whipping down maybe snow could be on its way. Afghanistan must also be piercingly raw. Hope they've got enough warm clothing and equipment.
R hopefully on her way home and it's her nineteenth birthday tomorrow. More internet shopping has arrived. Not heard from H so he must still be bobbing about on the river.
Thank you everyone for all your kind support over the problems and difficulties C has to face.
God bless everyone
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Wednesday 2 December 2009
A Footnote
C just rang and this time I was fortunate and did not miss his call.
He sounded very sober and then it transpired why. He has sadly had the privilege of being with one of his men as he passed away. He simply said "one of my guys died Ma", and then told me the details. May God Rest His Soul and that of all the other departed.
So so sad. The poor boy and his family.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
He sounded very sober and then it transpired why. He has sadly had the privilege of being with one of his men as he passed away. He simply said "one of my guys died Ma", and then told me the details. May God Rest His Soul and that of all the other departed.
So so sad. The poor boy and his family.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Day 60 Week 8
Well, I sat in the car in the sunshine as planned and bless, on two occasions people tapped on the window and asked if I was OK. I suppose it must have looked odd but it was too cold to sit outside and I had the radio for company - still sweet of them to care. And then the strangest thing happened and the 'Marie Celeste' came outside to wander for a while and didn't realise I was there, and so she was startled when I got out of the car, and she actually smiled. I do have the loveliest bunch of neighbours and what with them, my family and friends, and my colleagues, think I just might survive this dv.
Was just talking to fellow soldier's Mum and she's heard from her boy and thankfully he's safe, and she said it's really strange because whilst she's talking to him she feels so utterly happy and then the moment the call finishes she crashes down into total sadness. And that's just how it is. Utter elation at hearing them and then boom, crushing loss when they've gone.
Just found a message on my phone from another soldier's Mum and I'm going to ring her back when this is finished. Her boy isn't out there at the moment, but he's already completed one tour and when I last spoke to him last he said he was looking forward to going out again - because that way he makes some money. Isn't it sad that young people have to go through all this because that's the only way they can supplement low wages. Unless, of course, they're back for rest and respite leave and can moonlight guarding officials shredding evidence of MPs creative expense claims. Something's gone hideously wrong somewhere.
Speaking of which, amongst the many rumours doing the rounds at the moment is one saying that the two weeks leave they are given in the middle of the tour is to be scrapped to save on the cost of the flights, and the other is that the length of the tours is to be increased to nine months, again a cost cutting exercise.
Thank goodness Obama has made a decision and I thought he spoke really well to the troops. He obviously didn't commit the extra resources lightly and seems to genuinely feel his reponsibility for the safety of the serving men and women, and thank heavens he seems to be a really intelligent independent thinker. There must be an awful lot going on behind the scenes and probably just as well we don't know it all.
One of H and C's friends from the next village is also out there with 3 Rifles. He's actually in the TA and knew for six months he was going out - but didn't tell his mother until the last minute because he daren't. Funny isn't it that these young people can be more afraid of their mums than of the Talliban.
Was going to cancel all Christmas festivities and then someone pointed out that I had to light my Advent candle as it was a light for those away to follow home. Overwhelmed by everyone's support - thank you.
Please Lord keep all safe and well
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Was just talking to fellow soldier's Mum and she's heard from her boy and thankfully he's safe, and she said it's really strange because whilst she's talking to him she feels so utterly happy and then the moment the call finishes she crashes down into total sadness. And that's just how it is. Utter elation at hearing them and then boom, crushing loss when they've gone.
Just found a message on my phone from another soldier's Mum and I'm going to ring her back when this is finished. Her boy isn't out there at the moment, but he's already completed one tour and when I last spoke to him last he said he was looking forward to going out again - because that way he makes some money. Isn't it sad that young people have to go through all this because that's the only way they can supplement low wages. Unless, of course, they're back for rest and respite leave and can moonlight guarding officials shredding evidence of MPs creative expense claims. Something's gone hideously wrong somewhere.
Speaking of which, amongst the many rumours doing the rounds at the moment is one saying that the two weeks leave they are given in the middle of the tour is to be scrapped to save on the cost of the flights, and the other is that the length of the tours is to be increased to nine months, again a cost cutting exercise.
Thank goodness Obama has made a decision and I thought he spoke really well to the troops. He obviously didn't commit the extra resources lightly and seems to genuinely feel his reponsibility for the safety of the serving men and women, and thank heavens he seems to be a really intelligent independent thinker. There must be an awful lot going on behind the scenes and probably just as well we don't know it all.
One of H and C's friends from the next village is also out there with 3 Rifles. He's actually in the TA and knew for six months he was going out - but didn't tell his mother until the last minute because he daren't. Funny isn't it that these young people can be more afraid of their mums than of the Talliban.
Was going to cancel all Christmas festivities and then someone pointed out that I had to light my Advent candle as it was a light for those away to follow home. Overwhelmed by everyone's support - thank you.
Please Lord keep all safe and well
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Tuesday 1 December 2009
Day 59 Week 8
Decided it's the time of year and am making myself go out into the sunshine for an hour (sitting in the car with the window open - poor man's conservatory) to absorb some lovely vitamin D and defeat SAD syndrome. Yes, that's it, it's just the time of year. Nothing more than the winter blues.
Hope everything alright in Afghanistan.
The funeral was so sweet. My neighbours are simple folk and the service was full of love and both widower and son spoke so beautifully and definitely from the heart for their lost one. The local priest took the service, her surviving husband works as the caretaker of the church hall and she was certainly sent off with genuine affection and respect. It was like going back in time. The congregation returned to the house for a cup of tea and a sandwich afterwards, just for a short while and then, respects having been paid, everyone quietly said farewell and left.
Heard from H - he's going to be home soon dv and apparently his nipples bled when he did the final run with the Marines. Charming. Spoke to R and she was sweet - always a joy when it is so.
We will survive this. We have to - for the sake of those doing it. It's only because of the time of year.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
Hope everything alright in Afghanistan.
The funeral was so sweet. My neighbours are simple folk and the service was full of love and both widower and son spoke so beautifully and definitely from the heart for their lost one. The local priest took the service, her surviving husband works as the caretaker of the church hall and she was certainly sent off with genuine affection and respect. It was like going back in time. The congregation returned to the house for a cup of tea and a sandwich afterwards, just for a short while and then, respects having been paid, everyone quietly said farewell and left.
Heard from H - he's going to be home soon dv and apparently his nipples bled when he did the final run with the Marines. Charming. Spoke to R and she was sweet - always a joy when it is so.
We will survive this. We have to - for the sake of those doing it. It's only because of the time of year.
Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x
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