Every year throws up similar circumstances. A public figure appears without a poppy, poppy sellers are banned from somewhere or
other, a politician tweets during the two
minute silence. The poppies get bigger and jazzier.
Yet every year on Remembrance Day at 11am, silence falls just the same, as we remember those killed in the line of duty, and for some the act of remembrance is as personal as it can be.
Margaret Evison’s son, Lieutenant Mark Evison of 1st Battalion Welsh Guards, died after being shot in the shoulder while leading a patrol in Helmand Province, on 12th May 2009. Margaret recounts her experience in Death of a Soldier: A Mother's Story. It is Mark's story, written alongside his diary account of life in the patrol base with his platoon, written up to two days before he died, and a recollection of his comrades' wonderful bravery as they brought him home after he was shot. It is also the story of his family and friends at home, how his death impacted on them, and how his mother began to understand what modern war death means. Margaret describes the inquest which followed Mark's death, her trip to visit Afghanistan, to see what her son died for, and her growing awareness of the sacrifices we expect of our young soldiers and their families, and also the attitude of the establishment.
Margaret appeared on the LBC book club on talking about the book, and you can listen here.
21 April 2009
As it stands I have a lack of radios, water, food and medical equipment. This with manpower is what these missions lack. It is disgraceful to send a platoon into a very dangerous area with two weeks’ water and food and one team medics pack. Injuries will be sustained which I will not be able to treat and deaths could occur which could have been stopped. We are walking on a tightrope and from what it seems here are likely to fall unless drastic measures are undertaken. On top of this I seem to have hit a wall, feel dreadful and fear I may have a fever. I will speak to mum tonight and hopefully this will cheer me up…
Lt Mark Evison