Dog Soldiers: Part 3 of 3: Love, loyalty and sacrifice on the front line

Rich was the perfect person to hand the letters to me. I wasn’t home at the time but when he gently told me he had something for me I skipped the shopping and headed back. I took the envelope from him and held it tight. I can’t tell you what I was thinking but I remember taking a good deep breath before Jimmy and I went into the bedroom to read it together. I want to share the letter he wrote to me. I never thought I could do that but I’m ready. All I ask is that you please remember that he was a young lad writing this to his family – just in case he was killed in action. That’s the massive tragedy of it all: he wrote it thinking it would never be read.

In a weird way I was happy, happy that his letter included something for everyone and, when it came to his funeral arrangements, he knew what he wanted. Liam was only 26 years old, with his whole life ahead of him: a job he loved and a girlfriend he adored – life was sweet. The thought of him sitting down to write a ‘final’ letter still haunts me but it also makes me smile. Liam didn’t write letters – I was the one who wrote the letters – and there he was writing the most important letter of his life.

I took that deep breath:

Hi ya Mum

Wow!! Where do I start? … Obviously if you read this then the worst has happened (well this is weird lol) but I don’t want anyone to feel down or wonder if things could’ve been different if … What’s meant to be is meant to be!! I want everyone to get drunk and try to move on with their lives. One thing I do want to say though is that I’ve had a fantastic life, I’ve got the best family in the world – you’re all amazing despite your own little flaws. I look and listen to all the people I’ve met moan and groan about their families all the time and I cannot comment. I’ve had an amazing upbringing and I thank you all for that!! … Mum you mean the absolute world to me and I know this sounds like a bit of a cliché (if that’s how you spell it!!) but I honestly cannot find the words to describe what you mean to me!! How you spawned me I don’t know. Lol! …

Here’s something for everyone …

Jimmy … You gave up so much to make me the man I became and I can’t thank you enough.

Laura, one of my older yet younger sisters … I am so so proud of you, everything you have done and are going to achieve …

Nicola … You really are an amazing young lady and I’ve always said that god forbid if I ever had kids if they turned out to be half as smart, beautiful or as brave as you are I would be one lucky man.

Ian … you truly are a legend dude, always there for me despite all our arguments and fallouts in the past. I always knew you would be there to support me whatever decisions I made.

Now for the boring bit. I want everyone to get drunk and every year I want my mates to mark my death with a rugby match. And for my funeral I want you to play Metallica’s ‘The Day that Never Comes’, ‘The Funeral’ by Band of Horses and ‘Sailing’ by Christopher Cross.

And sorry lads I want you all (he lists the names) to carry my fat ass … I figure with your combined weight you will manage it! I have a whole list of jobs for other people but I know the Army still has to function!

‘Each day’s a gift and not a given right.’ This was going to be my next tattoo and I’ve tried to live my life around this ethos and I would love for you all to do the same!! I’m sorry this letter is a bit short and sweet … but I hope I’ve given everyone a tiny idea as to how much you lot mean to me … You will always be in my heart and I’ll see you on the other side.

My love forever and always

X Liam X

‘A man will walk many miles whilst chasing his dreams.’

It was heartbreaking to read. I have only read the letter three times since that day but the contents have got me through many a dark moment, I can tell you. It was just typical Liam – like having him back in the room. It is really strange but Liam seemed to know exactly what people needed to hear from him and, at times, he gave us a rare glimpse of Liam thinking hard about his future. He even talks about if he had kids – bless him. He also said how he would like to be remembered with the annual rugby match and his mates enjoying a good booze-up in his name. My God he would wish he was there with them too.

Sometimes he forgot that the letter had to be in the past tense so there are alterations all the way through, like the mention of having kids: he forgot that it should have been ‘if I had had kids’, and where he had realised his mistake he scribbled it out and corrected it. Liam wrote as if he was speaking to all of us in turn and although it was typically random in his thoughts it was thoughtful and he was always a thoughtful boy. Laura says that’s what she misses most about Liam: whatever the situation he always said the right thing to make people feel better. She misses that most of all, and Nicola misses his sense of humour. Everything was laced with a laugh – even the last letter.

I didn’t want to think about the funeral but after the repatriation it was the focus of all my days. When the Army padre came to see me I could tell that he wasn’t impressed with Liam’s choice of music. I think it was the mention of Metallica that made his eyes roll but he seemed a good sport and admitted: ‘I’ve never done anything like that before but I’m sure there won’t be a problem.’ The RAVC slow march (Golden Spurs) had to be played on entering the church but at the close of the service and as the congregation left I requested (probably demanded) we play the Metallica and Christopher Cross tracks Liam wanted. It was important to me that Liam got to hear the music he had chosen and to know that his final wishes had been carried out.

I wanted to make sure that his funeral was everything he wanted and everything my family would have expected. The funeral directors had assured me that my wishes would be carried out and it was so important to get it right. The hardest decision was the one I had to make for myself. We had been told that Liam had taken the shot in his lip so the facial injuries were extreme. They were right to warn me and I wasn’t sure I wanted that to be the lasting image of my son that I carried in my head forever. So I made the decision not to view him, and the casket was closed when I got there. Some days I regret that decision and some days I don’t. It didn’t stop me going to him and talking to him every day up until the very last possible moment. I was going to take every opportunity to spend as much time on earth with my son as possible.

I suppose I have concentrated my memories of Liam on how he was when I last saw him and hugged him that day in February – larger than life and always smiling. Whenever I picture him in my mind there are things about him that never change and some that always make me smile and sometimes laugh out loud, which I do without thinking, and I can be in company at the time. I don’t care if people think I’m mad. I’m just thinking of my son and that’s how he was.

If you saw Liam in a T-shirt or his rugby shirt and jeans, you’d know he was happy. He was always more comfortable in his casuals and he had this habit of standing with his thumbs in his pockets – sometimes, if he was smoking, it would be just the one, but he always did it. That’s how I remember him. And how I always will.

I gave the funeral directors the details of what I wanted them to do – with every attention to the detail. I said I wanted Liam to be dressed in his favourite T-shirt and jeans so he would be more comfortable, and he was to have his thumbs in his pockets. And I warned them that I had gathered a few things that must go in the coffin with him and that included a packet of cigarettes and his lighter. I said they must be in there because he never went anywhere without his smokes. Michael, my stepson, was so kind and offered me a packet of his cigarettes but I’m sorry to say that I cruelly rejected them with: ‘No, Liam would never have smoked that rubbish!’ I felt awful afterwards and I hope Michael understood that at this point I was a mother on a mission and everything had to be right and as if Liam had chosen everything himself. After all, I wasn’t going to get another chance to do the best for my son.

My family and friends were fantastic. They were so helpful and understanding and let me get on with all my plans as I’m sure they realised that any attempt to stop me or talk me out of something was not going to work. There was one last thing I needed to hand to the funeral director, and that was my last letter to Liam. He wrote a final letter to me to say his goodbyes and so I wanted to do the same for him.

Writing to him in Afghan every day was easy. It made me feel so much better, as if we had chatted and everything was normal. I still have the unopened letter I wrote to him on the day he died. It was returned to me that way, so the letter I was about to write to him would be the first letter since then, and suddenly it didn’t feel so easy any more.

Writing a goodbye letter to my own son was the most agonising thing I have ever done in my life. You would think it would be easier knowing that he was never going to read it or tell you if he got upset, but that’s not how it was in my head at all. Saying goodbye to Liam in a letter was hard and made harder still knowing that it would be the very last letter, too. I can’t share my words but I know it started like this … and I know I signed off as I always did.

Hiya son

Remember you said writing your letter to me was the hardest thing you’ve ever done well this letter to you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

You are everything I could want in a son and a soldier …

Stay safe son.

Love you loads, Mum xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The flowers, it turned out, were easily decided upon. We had agreed as a family that everyone joining us at the funeral would be honouring Liam the soldier, the man, the son, brother, grandson, uncle, nephew and partner. To everyone who knew Liam he was BLT – the dude. So there it was, in white carnations, for all to see – DUDE. He would have liked that, because it made people smile. That’s what Liam always did. He made people smile. It was as if that’s what he was on Earth to do.

He not only had a gift with dogs but he was blessed with the ability to connect with people, too. If you had met him you would never forget him.

My son could light up a room just by stepping into it and I wanted to make sure that side of Liam was there right to the end and never forgotten.

As the lone piper played I honestly thought my heart would burst. I saw Liam’s friend, Karl Ingram, who was carrying my son for the second time, and I mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him as we gathered outside the church by the hearse. I had spoken to Karl at the repatriation and there he was again preparing to bear Liam on his shoulder. Leah wanted to make sure that the bearer party was made up of the men Liam had listed in his final letter. Karl had put his name forward for the job anyway, even before he knew that Liam had requested he carry his ‘fat ass’ twice. We were sad but we certainly knew we were amongst friends.

Liam’s funeral was at 1.30pm to allow people travelling from afar to get there in good time, and it seemed that everyone made it. The church was packed to the rafters and there were crowds of local people and press spilling out into the churchyard. There were TV cameras at every turn. We were so grateful to the good people of Tayport who accommodated all the chaos we caused around the church most of the day. I was incredibly touched by their warmth and understanding.

After the service we discovered that the roads had been closed to allow the cars access to the cemetery, and just outside the gates, lined up ready to greet us as we came out, the children from Tayport primary school stood quietly with their heads bowed. It was so incredibly moving.

When the tears started and finished I have no idea. I don’t think I cried the entire day because I remember Liam’s bearers making sure that the gathering after the funeral was very much a ‘celebration’ of my son’s life and not a wake. They really brought the house down when they took off their tunics and revealed their matching T-shirts bearing the legend ‘Our Hero. Liam Tasker’ above a photograph of Liam and Theo. They had been wearing them in his honour throughout the service.

There was plenty of alcohol consumed that day and plenty of stories shared about Liam, who I know some described as a ‘Marmite character’. I can understand that because his serious side could be as strong as the joker inside him, but even for those who didn’t see his funny side they still admired the man who trained a good dog to accomplish great things.

I think that was the most memorable message from the day – that Liam was good but with Theo they made each other great.

Lieutenant Colonel Chris Ham was present in Wootton Bassett and attended Liam’s funeral. He had seen my son and Theo work closely together so it was good for me and for everyone to hear him sing their praises. I understood when he said that it’s unusual for a dog to have one master in the Army and the pain it can cause when a bonded partnership is split for operational reasons. A dog can remain in theatre for two consecutive sixth-month tours but the handler will go home after one. That’s when the dog will be handled by someone else. At least Liam and Theo didn’t have to suffer the separation that Liam was dreading, and I believe they are together enjoying every day as they used to side by side. It helps me to have that picture in my head.

I still worry about Liam’s friends. I can’t help it. They are such a great bunch of people who made Liam’s life so full of laughter and blokey banter. At the funeral I had the chance to meet some of the lads and lasses he had been mentioning in his phone calls and conversations over the years in the REME as well as the RAVC and I could tell that memories of my son weren’t going to fade easily. They said lots of lovely things about him that made my heart sing: ‘BLT … large as life with a heart of gold …’ and Liam was ‘… a good mate, a good soldier and a perfectionist as a dog trainer. Theo was a cracking dog, and that said everything about Liam.’ His friend Ryan Earnshaw said, ‘Feels like we left a piece of the big man in Afghan. I miss him and he still owes me twenty quid!’

I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Liam’s girlfriend, Leah. She was beside us the whole time and she had her own pain to bear. They were very close and losing Liam was such a shock for the poor girl. She was the last person to speak to him on the Sunday before he died and they had been making plans for his homecoming, so there was lots of excitement about it all and then suddenly – nothing.

Leah also knew that Liam had been feeling a little bit down having to leave Theo in Afghan, but as she’s a Royal Army Vet Corps nurse, with her own posting due, she understood a lot more of what goes on behind the scenes than the rest of us. I know she did her best to try to calm Liam and reassure him that Theo would be waiting for him when he got back. She knew how much that meant to him and I was grateful that she could step in and help him as he was very agitated about the whole thing. He wanted to come home but he didn’t want to leave Theo. The bond had become that strong that I think Liam felt he was torn between leaving one family member to go and see others.

I will never forget what Leah told the papers after the funeral: ‘I am the proudest girlfriend there could ever be and there will be a LT-sized hole in my life forever.’ I cried for them both and I cried because I knew exactly what she meant. Nothing and no one would ever fill that gap. He was one of life’s uniques, and so was Theo.

Chapter 15

Hero dogs (#ua0277c5f-590f-592f-8d5e-489962cf32fe)

THEO

Two days after the body of Liam Tasker was repatriated to the UK the ashes of his faithful dog, Theo, were presented to Jane Duffy. Man and dog had made the journey together and it was Jane’s wish that Theo’s shell casing would find its final resting place at her son’s feet. Just as he would have wanted, as it was the place where the dog had spent so many nights when they were on operations in the Afghan desert.

Liam Tasker wasn’t into writing letters but a short time before he went on what was to be his final mission the young Lance Corporal started to pen a homage to his canine companion. He meant it to be a citation for an award that would show the world that his dog was a full-on, no-messing war dog. Full stop.