"I was only 25 years old when I was widowed in the summer of 2008. My husband was an armourer attached to 2nd Battalion the Parachute Regiment in 2008. He maintained weapons at the forward operating base in Kajaki. My husband was killed in action on 22nd July 2008 as a result of an Improvised Explosive Device striking the ambulance he was driving in Helmand Province, Afghanistan. Just before he was killed, he had helped in the rescue of a colleague. My husband was a selfless, caring man. We had an extremely close relationship since we met in 2004.
The AWA has been a tremendous help in the aftermath of my husband's death. When your husband dies in the forces, everyday people find the death of a soldier extremely hard to deal with. They don't quite know what to say, so avoidance is their way of dealing with it. By becoming a member of the AWA you realise you are not alone and that other ladies are going through the same thing. More importantly what you are feeling isn't right or wrong. As members are varied in the amount of time they have been widowed they help the newer widows with mundane paper work and know about what sources of help are available.
"Having endured many sudden incidents such as Sierra Leone, difficult tours to Northern Ireland and Kosovo, the last thing I expected was for my husband to simply not return home from work one day. But on a stormy day in September 2003, that was exactly what happened. My husband was killed in a road traffic accident in the middle of camp, aged 32, leaving me behind, 29, pregnant with a toddler, living in Germany.
The support I received from our family’s officer and from ARRC was excellent. Nothing was too much trouble, and no question was too silly to ask. My family’s officer was attentive and sensitive, knowing when was a good day to pass on the mountain of information, and when was a day to put it safe into a file for me to look at later. Bereavement does funny things to your mind and some days are better than others.
Once the immediate aftermath was taken care of, I made the difficult decision to move back to the UK to live with my parents. Again, I received the utmost care and attention. The difficulties began when I arrived back in the UK. Although I was handed over to a UK-based unit, there was little contact. I was told: ‘if you need anything, just ask’. But I had never needed to ask for anything before, I didn’t know what I could or could not ask for and I didn’t like to intrude or be a nuisance. In some ways the Army forget that we wives are ‘service members’ too, we live and breathe the service way of life and I found it extremely difficult and lonely to adjust to civvy street.
One big stepping stone in my long road to recovery was coming across the AWA. My second daughter was just six weeks old when I made the long trip down to Amport. Initially I did not want to go, as I couldn’t imagine what I would have in common with a group of grey haired old ladies. (That was my image of a ‘widow’ care of the televised Remembrance service every November). How wrong I was! My friends and family convinced me to make the long drive and I cried the whole way. At the big gates I very nearly turned back. But I was spotted, and received a warm and generous welcome. I couldn’t believe the ages of the women in the room, they were all like me!
That was the start of a very special bond. Through the AWA I have made life-long friends and I have been able to share experiences and memories with others who know how it feels. I have been able to laugh and cry without fear of judgement. I have also been able to participate in numerous activities and have found out much information and advice, ranging from financial support (resettlement/pensions) to ideas on how to support my children.
One of my proudest achievements was being able to serve as a steering committee member, as I felt ‘useful’ again and felt I had a part to play once more. I had a positive outlet for all of my negative energy and have been able to help others in similar situations. As a member of the AWA I have been able to contribute to MOD publications, I have been invited to talk to CNO/CVOs, and I have attended government meetings in relation to veterans, inquests and bereavement. With my girls I helped launch the funding campaign for the Armed Forces Memorial and have helped develop the FAB holiday project to support children of bereaved service families. The AWA has given me a purpose and has offered opportunities that I wouldn’t have believed possible. The ongoing support and friendship has given me the courage to branch out and try new things and take steps towards new directions. I have emotional and practical support from those that really do understand. I am also richer in the friends and contacts that I have made along the way.
"When you marry someone in the Army, you join a very different way of life, often moving at short notice to different postings and foreign countries. You have to live with the fact that your husband may face great danger during the course of his work but nothing can prepare you for having to deal with a sudden and totally unexpected death, in my case when my husband was not in uniform.
In August 2000 whilst on leave in France he collapsed and died of a massive heart attack in front of myself and young daughter while he was out for a run. I was 39 and our daughter four and a half years old. We had completed a posting to Belgium in the summer of 2000. My husband had taken over his next job in the UK, but domestically we were in transit, our belongings were all in packing boxes somewhere en route while we had some precious time together on leave in France.
In the days following his death we received lots of support from the British Consul and Military Attache in Paris by phone, and from a VO sent to me in France from Belgium, family members and other friends. Once the funeral had taken place in the UK I wasn’t given a VO in the UK and I had chosen to live temporarily with my parents, not in a quarter for what I considered to be a ridiculously short period of time before having to move yet again so was a long way from the Regiment. Lots of written offers of help but I had no knowledge of who to turn to when I did need help.
A chance meeting with another service widow changed my life! She knew about pensions and started a whole new process to see if I should be receiving both a War Widows Pension and an attributable pension in addition to the Forces Family Pension I had been granted. Three years after my husband’s death I was awarded both – it made a huge financial difference and unless I had met that lady I would never have known that I was not receiving the correct pension.
I became involved with the AWA at its beginning several years after my husband’s death, how I wish the AWA had been there to turn to when I needed guidance and direction. Being widowed at a young age can be very isolating, no-one knows what to say to you, but somehow you have to find the strength and courage to rebuild your life. It was such a relief to know there were other ladies like me. The AWA is now there to offer support and friendship and has provided me with lots of useful information, my daughter has also met other children who have lost their father. Whatever our age or rank, we all share this devastating bond. There is always someone to lend a supportive ear without having to explain everything and who truly ‘understands’.
"I was 30 years old with two children, a son who was eight and daughter aged five when on Father’s Day in 2005 our lives changed forever in the worst possible way. My husband had a motor bike accident; his injuries were so severe that I had to make the decision to “let him go”.
My husband was a Corporal in The Royal Engineers, having served 16 years. While the Army were fantastic at the time and soon after, I now feel that I have no connection. I get a Corps Christmas card each year.
What the AWA means to me...
The first time I heard of the AWA was when I received a leaflet about the Amport weekend in 2006. I ummed and aahed about whether to attend, expecting everybody else’s husbands to have been killed in action.
How wrong was I?
In the car park after a four and a half hour journey wondering if I was doing “the right thing” I met a lady also unpacking her car. It was also her first time. We began chatting and imagine my surprise when we got to the obvious topic only to find that our husbands had died in the same way only a month apart. Was it fate?
The “Amport weekend” and the connections made there spread far and wide. In my everyday civilian life I do not know anyone like me. Being part of the AWA I am amongst friends who know exactly what is going on. When we’re together we can just be us, we do not need to have our “Everything’s great” mask on, because frankly it isn’t!
But hey, we survive because we have no choice and if you’re lucky, you get to a point and start living again!
"I was widowed in January 2007, aged 32, when my husband took his own life on tour in Northern Ireland. Being on my own in a strange country, away from family and friends with two very young children was extremely frightening to say the least. After the funeral you are more or less left to fend for yourself after the ceremonies have ended and the visitors have gone and you are left to pick up the pieces alone.
I received an information pack from AWA from my Army visiting officer, and wrote to them about four months after my husband’s death. I wasn’t sure if they would be able to help – my request was to be put in touch with a widow who had also lost her husband to suicide. I received an email from their secretary the next day, they said they would find me someone to talk to. Another widow rang me two days later – the relief I felt was intense. My first words to her were, “Help me – I’m going mad!” But I was not alone and there was someone in the same situation as me who I could share my thoughts with, thanks to the AWA.
Through the AWA, I was able to speak to another widow, who had shown me that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Three and a half years later I have a network of friends through the AWA, we are mutually supportive and their friendship has helped me get my life back on track.
"I was 42 years old when my husband was shot by terrorists in Athens on 8th June 2000. Looking back I can remember that day as if it was yesterday and the absolute panic and isolation I felt at being so far away from home and on my own. My two young daughters were thirteen and fifteen and at boarding school in England. It was absolutely dreadful.
At that time my husband was working as a Military Attaché in Athens so we were basically part of the Foreign Office and they have a very different mind set from the Army. One had to be so politically aware and it was almost like watching a horror movie unfold. It would have been so useful to have had another military widow to talk to.
Despite having a very good visiting officer I trusted nobody outside my family. In the first few weeks following my husband's murder I began to have all the usual guilt feelings. I began to have a lot of doubts about lots of things. It seemed to me that the system seemed to think that Stephen knew all the risks and death could be one of them…EVEN IN ATHENS …I DON’T THINK SO! No one mentioned Board of Enquiry or Criminal Injuries. Because of my Northern Ireland background and my brother-in-law we eventually got details of both. Again if the AWA had been around I would certainly have made contact.
In my case, my husband’s murder became news very quickly and despite all the support of all the people around me, a Scotland Yard family support officer and my relatives, it would have been nice to talk to someone who had been widowed in similar circumstances as I really needed someone who actually knew what I was going through. Trying to keep all the balls in the air, being brave for the children, my mother-in-law, keeping my financial worries to myself, and just trying to get through the day was hard.
Please help the AWA by giving us your support. There are a lot of younger widows out there who have young babies and children and they all have a long journey to travel. Thank you.
"In June 2006, at the age of 36 and with a young son of four, I lost my husband to cancer. My husband was diagnosed with colorectal bowl cancer at the age of 32, when we had been married only 18 months and our son was five months old. I watched my healthy husband slowly and painfully die over the following years until his untimely death a month past his 37th birthday.
On the death of my husband I was contacted via letter by the AWA. After reading the letter I put it to one side and did not do anything about it until almost a year later. I was not ready at this stage to be with other ladies in the same position as myself as it was too much to take in. I also felt that because my husband was not lost in combat, but from an illness and at a time when we’re out in Afghanistan and Iraq, meant I would not have anything in common with any of the other widows and therefore shouldn’t be there. I found out at a much later date that I couldn’t have been further from the truth: the AWA is made up of widows from all kinds of situations, and different walks of life.
When a newsletter from the AWA dropped through my door in the spring of 2007 I took more interest in what they were all about and started to wonder if they could help me. It was not just losing a husband but a way of life that I enjoyed and being in a secure environment. All of a sudden you are thrust out there and on your own and unless you have been in the military it is hard to understand the lifestyle you have had and therefore lost. Only ladies in the same situation would understand. It was with this in mind that I decided to attend my first weekend at Amport House one year and two weeks after the death of my husband.
Without the AWA’s help and support over the years and particularly that first meeting with them at Amport House, I would not have known half of what I do now or have been able to get through it all. It is the best decision I have made and I joined at a time that was right for me, even though in hindsight I wish I had done it earlier. The fountain of knowledge that they provide to new and not so new widows is paramount to helping us move forward. The friendships made are for life, knowing someone is just a phone call away is a lifeline.
Young or old, with or without children and regardless of the situation that brought you to becoming a widow, the AWA will always be there to support you and get you through those difficult days and nights for as long as you need them and for that I will always be very grateful – thank you.