My son Ben, who joined the RAF in 2001, always assured us that he'd be three miles up from the Afghan insurgents, so nothing would get to him. He didn't realise that his own side was going to let him down. Ben died three years ago, when the ageing Nimrod spy plane he was flying exploded in mid-air near Kandahar, killing him along with 13 of his colleagues. He was 25 years old.
At home in Somerset, his mother and I heard on the news that a helicopter had come down. When the reports changed to mention a Nimrod, we rang the helpline number. An hour later the doorbell rang. I was in the other room when I heard my wife scream. It feels as if someone has scooped your heart out.
But planes don't explode of their own accord. After a months-long battle with the Ministry of Defence and the RAF over the release of documents relating to the catastrophe, an inquest last year finally ruled that the plane had not been airworthy and the that entire fleet should be grounded.
On leave before he went to Afghanistan, Ben confided in his older brother some of his concerns about the deployment. But when his brother asked him if he really believed that British troops should be there, he replied that the Afghan people had been terrorised by the Taliban for years and that he believed they would be freeing them.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/jul/13/afghanistan-army-casualties