I was so haunted by a soldier’s tattoo I had to tell his story

It was the picture in the newspaper article that stayed with me. Haunted me even. A large tattoo of seven beautiful, bright red poppies and, above them, the silhouettes of seven soldiers.

This striking tattoo that had been inked across the back of Rob French, a former Royal Marine, was absolutely beautiful. But absolutely heartbreaking too.

Because the caption below the photograph explained that the seven poppies and the seven silhouettes were drawn to represent Rob’s seven colleagues, all of whom died within weeks of each other in Afghanistan in December 2008.

This was November 2017 and Rob was quoted in the newspaper saying: ‘Around this time of year the public start wearing poppies to show that they remember the fallen, but for me and all the other servicemen and women who have been to war, every single day is Remembrance Day.’

A few weeks later, unable to get Rob’s story out of my mind, I tracked him down. He warily agreed to meet me on condition that the story wouldn’t focus on him or portray him as a hero. On this he was adamant.

He had only agreed to have the original story published, he said, to raise awareness for the Royal British Legion’s Poppy Appeal.

‘This is not for me,’ he made clear. ‘It is for them. I am always remembering them. I carry on with my life but with them on my back they are always with me.’

He told me how they had all died.

Marine Damian Davies, Sergeant John Manuel and Corporal Marc Birch were killed when a 13-year-old suicide bomber approached them with a wheelbarrow packed with explosives. Lance Corporal Steven ‘Jamie’ Fellows was blown up in a separate incident the same day.

Marine Georgie Sparks and Marine Tony Evans had their lives taken by insurgents armed with rocket-propelled grenades during a foot patrol in Helmand province.

Lance Corporal Benjamin ‘Ben’ Whatley, aged 20, was killed by enemy fire during a fierce battle on Christmas Eve.

Rob, 42, who served for nine years in the Marines, had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and was clearly haunted by their loss, especially Ben’s. He’d been killed two weeks after Rob, a machine gunner, was sent home with a broken wrist.

‘I have always felt that if I was still there I might have been selected to take that position on the same rooftop and therefore taken the round that hit Ben. I still live with that guilt now.’

For a long time the guilt was overwhelming, until, in 2015, Rob reached out for help from the charity Combat Stress. He was referred to one of their therapists and around the same time decided to remember his old colleagues with the tattoo. ‘So that they could be with me, pushing me on, rather than in front and holding me back,’ he explains.

The therapy and the tattoo gave him some measure of peace but the guilt never really goes away. Neither does the PTSD. Rob still suffers from night terrors and flashbacks to his time in Afghanistan that are so real he can literally feel the heat of the Afghan sun, smell the smells of the local bazaars.

Listening to Rob’s story I wondered how many others, like him, were living with PTSD? I started to research the war in Afghanistan. I read countless newspaper articles and testimonies of British soldiers who had served there. I read about the horrific things they had been through, the shocking things they had seen.

I learned that, as of July 2015, a total of 454 British forces personnel or MOD civilians had died while serving in Afghanistan since 2001. I also discovered that 2000 British soldiers and veterans are feared to have killed themselves since the Afghan invasion started.

Two thousand.

In 2012, more soldiers and veterans took their own lives than were killed in combat in Afghanistan.

All good people like Rob who fought for their country and paid the ultimate price.

I thought about those soldiers and Rob a lot. And then I decided to create a fictional hero. A decent man struggling to get his life back together after serving in Afghanistan. A good man, like Rob, and so many others, still haunted by the deaths of the friends they lost out there.

When many years later I rang Rob to tell him I had a book deal he was thrilled. Not for him – again he begged me to tell that the story was not about him – but that it might raise awareness of the issues surrounding PTSD.

We caught up about his life. Rob is now studying for a degree in psychology and training to become a therapist specialising in PTSD and trauma. ‘My work has given me purpose – to be able to help other people going through what I went through,’ he told me.

‘Counselling turned my life around. Now, even when things are tough I realise that I owe it to the lads that did not come home for me to try and have a good life, not to throw it away, to help others.’

Family too has given him new purpose. He has two sons, Joseph, 11, and Oliver, seven, and a daughter Freyja, two, from his second marriage to Charlotte. ‘I know I’m one of the lucky ones,’ says Rob, who lives in Weston Super Mare.

But he never forgets those who aren’t as lucky. He works tirelessly to raise money for military charities and awareness for PTSD. He was even among the guests for the Coronation of King Charles III in Westminster Abbey in recognition of all he has done to raise awareness for PTSD.

There will always be reminders, always be bad days. Just this last Christmas two more ex comrades committed suicide and Rob is still struggling to come to terms with their loss.

But being there for his family, his new career and his charity work keeps him going. He is passionate about helping veterans suffering from PTSD.

I hope that my book, Six Poppies, helps shine a small light on what they all go through.