The story of an SAS (Special Air Service) soldier who lost his comrades is one filled with deep sorrow, profound guilt, and a reflection on the harsh realities of military life. Over a decade of service, this soldier attended eighteen funerals for his fellow soldiers, each representing a life cut short, and a brotherhood irreparably altered.
For any soldier, the loss of comrades is a painful experience, but for this particular SAS soldier, the pain was compounded by personal connections with many of those who had fallen.
One loss, however, stood out above the others and had a profound effect on him.
The guilt that followed was immense. He questioned his decisions, wondering if he had been too lenient during Fergus's selection, and whether a harsher approach might have prevented Fergus from ever joining the SAS—and consequently, from being in the position where he lost his life.
Yet, as the years went by, he came to a difficult but necessary realization: these soldiers, including Fergus, were pursuing their dreams. They had chosen this path with full awareness of the risks involved. His role was merely to facilitate their entry into the regiment, not to dictate their fate.
In the end, the story of this SAS soldier is a poignant reminder of the human cost of war and the personal battles that soldiers continue to fight long after they leave the battlefield. The loss of comrades, particularly those who were close friends, leaves scars that time cannot easily heal. It is a testament to the bonds formed in the crucible of military life, and the enduring impact of those who are lost too soon.