We must honour our heroes

They should not be forgotten and the turnout at services across the country on Remembrance Sunday showed that they never will be.

This year’s event was all the more poignant in our house with my wife’s cousin still nursing serious injuries sustained in Afghanistan.

With that in mind, I took our children to a local service. After the silence I approached one of the veterans and shook his hand. I had been introduced to William several years ago.

I asked him how he had been and he gave me the usual response of “fine”. He then said he “might have a story for me”.

He told me a good friend and fellow veteran had suffered a heart attack and sadly died earlier this year before adding that he was “disgusted” with the events which led to his death.

William asked me not to name him or say where he lived for fear that his family could be placed in danger. He did not live in this district however.

We sat down and William said that his friend would often be called names by a group of teenagers who would loiter on the street corners as he walked home from his local Royal British Legion club. He had mentioned them to William over a pint or two but insisted they were “nothing to worry about”.

The name calling then turned to egg throwing. There was no apparent reason for this. This man had never reacted to the name calling so it appears the teenagers had now become bored and, rather than leave him alone, had decided to up the ante.

William walked home with him one day and headed over to the yobs still wearing school uniform. In the typical style of a bully when confronted they did nothing and eventually walked off.

Believing the problem was now solved the two friends, who fought in the Second World War together, headed home and celebrated with a whisky.

Sadly, the teenagers were back the next day and this time one of the yob’s fathers was with them. He confronted William’s friend and warned him never to “touch” his children again even though he had been a mere spectator during William’s row.

The situation was explained to the father who did not seem to care. The father, clearly a fully paid up member of the Jeremy Kyle-generation, labelled our stunned war hero a “paedo”, much to the amusement of the baying bunch of hooligans.

The confrontation was obviously too much for William’s friend. He returned home feeling “unwell”. His wife insisted he go to the doctors but in typical fashion, he did not want to make a fuss.

A couple of days later he was still feeling – to use his own words – “hazy”. Later that day he suffered a heart attack and never recovered.

I asked William if the matter had been reported to the police. He said he asked the family the same question and the response was: “What’s the point?”

I wondered how many people had seen William’s friend suffer abuse as he walked along this busy road. I wondered if anyone had thought about stepping in. I wondered if this was happening to other war veterans up and down the country.

Most people in Britain hold our armed forces in the highest esteem and the crowds on Sunday again showed that millions believe it is only right that we honour the fallen.

At the service I attended, a seven-year-old boy proudly wore his great grandfather’s medals. William asked him to always show respect, not only to those who fought in the war, but to his elders in general.

The boy looked up and said: “Always. They are all heroes.”

With a tear in his eye William said quietly to me: “If only all thought that way, my best friend might still be alive.”