Dedication

This book is dedicated to all who have helped and contributed to

this book. You gave me the inspiration and I am indebted to you
all.
Rfn George Clark
Rfn Allan Arnold RIP
Rfn Will Aldridge RIP
Drummer Lee Rigby
Pte Daniel Wade RIP
The fallen in 2009
Lft James Amoore

Cpl Ricky Furgusson

Posthumously to

Actively to

To the families

2 Rifles
2 Rifles
2 Rifles
2nd Batt, Royal Fusiliers
3rd Batt, The Yorkshire Regiment
2 Rifles
2 Rifles 2011-2012
For his incredible dedication on
grooming 2 Rifles, Afghanistan, 20112012
For his courage and inspiration for
writing The Battle Scars
Every member of the United
Kingdoms Armed Forces too
numerous to mention may you all rest
in peace.
Every member of Armed Forces who
have served in armed combat in
Afghanistan and sustained horrific
injuries but have done so much to help
others. I salute you all.
God bless you all, my heart is with you.

HRH The Prince of Wales

HRH The Duchess of Cornwall
HRH The Duke of Cambridge
HRH Prince Harry
HRH The Queen
HRH The Duke of Edinburgh
HRH The Earl of Wessex

My thanks to you all for your interest and support throughout, my

son Georges deployment to Afghanistan 2011-2012.
And finally, an exceptional word of thanks to all at Help for
Heroes, and Combat Stress, who give unwavering support to those
who need them. My eternal thanks and respect. Id also like to
thank the great British public who recognise what we have in each
and every member of our Armed Forces. May we always be proud.

TELL IT HOW IT IS

Copyright Sherran Clark (2014)

The right of Sherran Clark to be identified as author of this work
has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of
the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or
otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this
publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims
for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British
Library.

ISBN 978 178455 302 9 (Paperback)

ISBN 978 1 78455 304 3 (Hardback)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2014)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LB

Printed and bound in Great Britain

Introduction
It may not come as a surprise to you to be reading yet another
book about war and Afghanistan. However, can enough ever be
written or read about this? Will we ever be lulled into a false
sense that war will ever stop, or never rear its ugly head in
another part of the world? Sadly not.
My book is one of many. It is not the first and I doubt it will
be the last. I have attempted to capture the war experience, not
only of the troops themselves, but of the loved ones left behind
who have to deal with its effects on a day to day basis.
This has taken over two years to write. Id like to say its
been a pleasure, but it hasnt. I will, however, say that its been
a labour of love, and an honour to highlight what all members
of the Armed Forces go through in the name of attaining peace
in war-torn lands and securing peace and freedom here in
England.
Recently that concept has been tainted by the murder of
Drummer Lee Rigby. Even a writer cant find the words to
make sense of why this took place in London in broad daylight.
As many have said, even dreadful casualties in Afghanistan are
part and parcel of the risks we have to accept when troops are
deployed. Witnessing a cold blooded murder on home soil is
something none of us were in any way prepared for.
Im sure Im not the only one who wonders why the world
cannot live in peace in this day and age,. Do we have to ask
ourselves what exactly kicks it off? Is it purely down to
cultural differences, or the distribution of wealth? Or is it purely
based on a desire to attain religious supremacy? There has to be
a reason, not just an excuse. This is not a recent dilemma. Its
been happening throughout the history of the planet, and as of
yet, has it done any good?
That is the question, but what is the answer? I am not a
politician, I am not a religious leader. I am just a mother of a
child who served in the British Army, and my story aims to
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capture the essence of what my son went through. I trust that

you will glean an insight and an understanding as to why I
chose to write in the first place. I also trust that you will gain a
better understanding of the war experience, and continue to
support our troops when they are overseas, but more especially
at home.

Section One

The Departure

Our Colonel, With Thanks

(2 Rifles)

Words may be a full days march

a tour away, in a desert storm,
maybe never uttered face to face
eyes front, within a heart beats warm.
A figurehead we serve with pride
gratitude that sings with one true voice,
2 Rifles Swift and Bold are we
and with honour through the ranks rejoice.
Queen and country signed up for
to fight, defend, our hallowed realm,
our Monarchs son, resplendent
and grateful, you are at the helm.
Times so hard they lay before us
no guarantee that well return,
Afghanistan the quilt blood-woven
with threads there frayed, lessons to learn.
Rarely do we shake your hand
when all salute, no words suffice,
what would we say, that hasnt been uttered
you know the pictures far from nice.
Green and brown, with boots dust laden
with rifles poised, sun-baked and tired,
our mission to defeat the enemy
with every bullet, ever fired.

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Times you come to visit me

raise spirits, more than you can know,
so much at stake we stand united
we stand before you, row by row.
Once at ease, if thats an option
amidst the camp that we call home,
a far cry from the warmth of home fires
daily patrols amidst war, we roam.
Miles away, there lies all familiar
lies all thats safe, lies all thats sweet,
and every footprint ever trod
each blister pierces 2 Rifles feet.
Dodge the traps that aim to kill us
the mighty Vallon, prepares the way,
with luck, and with Gods will maybe
such throbbing feet, march home one day.
Swift and Bold, out battalions motto
ingrained, and executed strong,
our purpose is to serve with all we have
until were home, where we belong.
Six months spent in combat, enduring
in camps, or within armoured tanks,
it isnt pretty, its war, were soldiers
your soldiers Colonel, salute you, with thanks.

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Swift and Bold

Praise the virtue, those the brave

the infantry, so primed and honed,
trained not to surrender fast
their mission, purpose, gallant loaned.
Crouch upon an unknown soil
where trust and friendship settle,
each grain beneath the riflemen
keeps them focused, on their mettle.
Body armour lies beneath
their camouflaged attire,
protecting skin and sinew
when exposed to guns that fire.
Weapons that adorn them
as though harnessed unrelenting,
become a constant part of them
for the job, the power, venting.
Swift and bold 2 Rifles
words that they encompass now,
speed and sheer determination
that raise hopes, and drama endow.
Never thinking all is lost
Every breath and movement clear,
To gain advantage, seize the task
No matter how tough or austere.

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Bonds there forged, defy the odds

all for one, and one for all,
no task is ever too much
whether great, or whether small.
United, close-knit, unified
Close as any men can be,
2 Rifles, swift and bold
From start to finish, brave infantry.
Deployed to do the job in hand
the training, now completed,
this time, reality embraced
to fight, then return, undefeated.
To help the land, the people
who in chaos will unfold,
restoring order, thats their task
brave 2 Rifles, swift and bold.

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Tell It How It Is

Dont dare paint a pretty portrait

Paint is now replaced with blood,
Colours merge in hues of red
Within, beneath, the blood-stained mud.
Dont dare ask me for a canvas
as there aint one big enough,
to store the images of war
dont look, dont stare, its far too tough.
Never think an image captured
can convey what we have seen,
just tell it how it is you know
its dirty, desolate, unclean.
Words that struggle labour, laden
ink that dries, is caught herein,
every letter, sentence, stanza
bleeds and vomits, dies within.
Dont dare tell me it is over
you dont know, you were not there,
and thank God that you werent
your tears of pity, and despair.
This aint some game shot in glamour
what you see tore us to shreds,
day and night, its ugly, endless
as you sleep in your beds.

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Am I damaged? Too damned right

will I forget? NO, no chance,
what I have seen will haunt me
Ill remember every circumstance.
Wars ingrained like a tattoo
your skin will crawl with every thought,
Ill tell you how it is my friend
Its the hardest battle Ive ever fought.

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If I Could

You dont have to say a word

Silence screams are all it takes,
as words that fail to raise a sound
I know how much your heart breaks.
At times like this its futile
I cant put your mind at ease,
its hard for you to let me go
as you wave goodbye, I freeze.
Too proud now to cry a tear
too proud, to let you know,
too proud, to show my weakness
and my thoughts of you just grow.
Youre suffering, youre frightened
as you watch me walk away,
but you know thats my duty
its the price I have to pay.
So much we have all shared
profiles raised in all degrees,
despatched to train as soldiers
groomed and primed in extremities.
I know that you are proud of me
and that thought I carry now,
it keeps me strong and focused
makes sense of all this somehow.

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All my life youve been there

as a parent, as a friend,
youve made me into the man that
stands before you, on you I can depend.
I know that this must be
That hardest thing youll ever do,
To trust in Gods protection
Till Im home again with you.
Yes its true its tough for us
but in honesty were fine,
were close, as any men could be
even more on the front line.
You cant be there in person
to protect your flesh and blood,
its so much harder for you
I know, your tears for me, a flood.
Just know that its destiny
every days not set in stone,
for you, for me, for anyone
every second, hour, flown.
And if I could Id change it
thats what Im trying to do,
and if I could, I would return
if I could, Id be with you.

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The Soldiers Lament

A boy that cries the day hes born

will shed many a tear,
a mother who looks on
will be his anchor, always near,
shell do her best to comfort him
and although she must step back,
her arms will hold him tightest
when he feels under attack.
A boy that cries alone at night
when the darkness blinds his eyes,
will never be alone
because his mother hears his cries.
Shell do her best to comfort him
and although she isnt there,
her love and understanding
tells him, she will always care.
A boy that cries in secrecy
on the verge of becoming a man.
can always turn to her
why? Because he knows he can.
Shell do her best to show him
that no matter how old he is,
her child will always be hers
and she will always be his.

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A man who cries in torment

will never be far from her side,
today he is a soldier
and hes filled her heart with pride.
Shell be the bullet that he fires
shell be the gentle breeze,
shell be beside him everywhere
just one thought, or tender squeeze.
A soldier stands before her now
its her tears tonight that fall,
her flesh and blood so precious
is the greatest gift of all.
Shell be the one to let him go
and although it breaks her heart,
she knows the bond will never break
and theyll never be apart.
A mothers love is strongest
Something you can depend upon,
It will survive a lifetime
Like a beacon, true and strong.
Shell be your blood, your oxygen
no matter where you be,
a mothers love is yours, my son
Im part of you, youre part of me.

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Im With You

There he stands, the soldier

resplendent, on parade,
trained, the task ingrained
thats the choice that he has made.
Joined the British Army
where one day hell go to war,
his eyes say more than spoken words
as he marches out the door.
Plucked from warmth and safety
to a world that beats in pain,
deployed to war from this great homeland
that he may never see again.
Taking risks and serving
Queen and country with great pride,
just know that you are not alone
as Im always by your side.
Deep within a heart beats strong
with a purpose great and true,
he knows it wont be easy
but its what hes there to do.
Every day that dawns for him
it may well be his last,
but you are never out of mind
as the shadows of night are cast.

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There he stands the soldier

with a rifle in his hand,
poised to slay the enemy
in this troubled, stricken land.
The sky is torn in torment
his soul cries out for peace,
his heart has only hope
that hell return, this nightmare cease.
Walk in glory, raise your head
know, youre all youll ever be,
the one whos given all you could
and with such integrity.
Should you not return to me
then one thing you know is true,
every breath you feel, whether yours
or mine soldier, just know Im with you.
Raise your eyes towards the sky
Walk with purpose, every day,
trust the love that made you
who will welcome you one day.
Return with pride and principle
that in hard times will ring true,
applause will be your just reward
when youre home, when Im with you.

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Mother To Mother

I saw the look of innocence

the anticipation, and the preparation,
your sons young, more so than mine
such a brave face yours, both fight for our nation.
From a brief request in a supermarket
that moment almost lost, was somehow saved,
found what you wanted for your precious boy
and a bond in that moment was made.
It brought back the time, when in your shoes
I too, scoured for things hed want to eat,
such experience, I vowed would not be wasted
was it fate? That you and I should meet?
They say that soldiers magnetise
like theyre drawn together like an unknown force,
then maybe the same applies to mothers
Ill be here for you, my pledge, of course.
I know only too well, every thought youre thinking
place your trust that all will go to plan,
as they have a dream to join the army
and from child, they grow into a man.
Your boy, sixteen, and full of vim and vigour
sees a future exciting, in the Paras soon,
off to train then based in Colchester, bless him
young yet brave, and focused, from your flesh hes hewn.

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I can taste each breath you draw each day

I can taste each worry you hold deep inside,
know youve got to let him go, its so hard
but your boy will fill your heart with pride.
Mothers play a role that has no boundaries
where no compromise has a place, I know,
were the mainstay, in their world, untethered
and in all ways needed, my support, Ill show.
And at times, a hug is all thats needed
I dont know you, neither do you know me,
but in time each Sunday, Monday, Tuesday
here at Waitrose, Esher, then there I will be.
It doesnt matter if Im busy, stop me
as time is not my master, if you need to talk,
everything you feel, then Im here to listen
each step taken, Ive done it, in your shoes walk.
Mother to mother, signed up in our Army
each child born a blank canvas from day one,
we dont know, how can we, what theyll grow into
be they a daughter, or whether they be a son.
I salute your son, mine has served, now its over
everything you go through, so have I,
you can lean on me in times of torment
mother to mother, on me, you can rely.

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