Remembering - Help for Heroes

I was at a meeting on Friday where a collection was taken for the Royal British Legion Poppy Appeal. Our leader annouced Remembrance Sunday as the day where we remember those who died in the Great War. "NO!" I wanted to scream. It's not just the First World War, it is EVERY war, EVERY conflict. Every single soldier who has died must be remembered that day.

I never know whether everyone in the Army feels the same way as me, but I cannot help remembering everyone I know who has died. I remember the ones who died in traffic accidents and from illness, not just those injured and killed in war zones.

At Sandhurst, where you go through Officer training, there is the Chapel of Remembrance. It's walls are covered with the names of all the officers who have died in wars since the First World War. I used to sit in services in there reading the names and wondering which of us standing there that day would end up as names on a marble clad pillar. Some of us are there now. There is a book at the front of the aisle in which are written every name of every officer killed. Each Sunday the page would be turned so that the names would always be changing and always remembered. One Chapel Sunday I was given the great honour of turning the page. How can I describe what that sort of honour felt like?

We had to do some tough mental stuff at times. One of my soldiers was killed in a car crash. I was quite young at the time. We had just come back from an operational tour in Bosnia, it had been a good time. I had been Duty Officer that night but I hadn't been called out once and had had a full night's sleep. My radio turned itself on at 7am to the local news, announcing that one of my soldiers had been killed and 2 injured. Their names were announced. First I was in shock, second I felt sick and third I was furious. Why hadn't I been told? Why wasn't I woken up? Why had I heard this on the radio?

When I got to work I had to stand in front of my platoon and tell them that their mate had been killed. The most difficult thing I have ever done. Later I went to see the others in hospital. They were shocked and Casey was traumatised. He told me what had happened, how he knew as soon as he saw him that his friend was dead. And there was the funeral. His father was an officer, had been a soldier himself. Was totally dignified. He thanked me for looking after his boy. I told him I hadn't done anything but he knew. He knew.

My soldier's name? Mark Townley. It was 15 years ago. I had one photograph with him in it and it got destroyed in a move. There is a memory of him, but it's only in my head now. I remember Mark Townley on every Remembrance Day. I expect his parents do too.

When you are in the forces or you have been, every piece of news about them is intensely personal to you. I feel every death that is announced as if I knew them. But I also feel for the others remaining. For every death that is reported there are 6 others who have been injured. Does anyone remember them? Or even know?

Help for Heroes? They are ALL heroes.