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
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