I’m always moved by the death of an old soldier such as Dunkirk veteran William Brindley whose funeral was reported in weekend editions of The Sentinel.
It goes without saying that the passing of Bill represents a great loss to his family and friends.
Sadly his death also further erodes our links with a tumultuous period in this country’s history.
With the passing of each such individual then the risk of us losing perspective on what happened 70-odd years ago increases just a little.
You see, warfare has changed beyond all recognition in the last 40 years – both from the point of view of the combatants themselves and the public left mithering over them back at home.
I would argue it actually changed for us here in the UK back in 1982.
In a week or so we will be in reflective mood as we mark the 30th anniversary of the start of the Falklands Conflict.
It was all over in 74 days but the ‘war’ had a profound effect on the psyche of our nation.
For the first time, we didn’t have to just rely on national newspapers for updates on how ‘Our Boys’ (and girls) were doing.
Nightly television news bulletins beamed pictures into our living rooms and we viewed the horrors of war in full colour – albeit a heavily-edited version of the actual events.
We learned about the heroics of 2 Para and Lieutenant Colonel H. Jones’ at Goose Green.
We discussed the fall of St. Georgia, the battle for Mount Tumbledown and the strategic importance of the airfield at Port Stanley.
We marvelled at the Harrier Jump jet’s vertical take-off and landing (VTOL) ability and gave due respect to Prince Andrew for flying the Royal Navy’s Sea King helicopters into the danger zone.
We came to know that ‘the Argies’ had Skyhawk jets and French-made Exocet missiles. We watched the Sir Galahad burn. We watched HMS Sheffield sink.
The Falklands may have been almost 8,000 miles away and we may never have heard of them before April 1982 but for a couple of months that year we all lived and breathed the battle for those islands.
These days, thanks to the wonders of modern technology, any conflict anywhere in the world seems immediate, close and personal and we now take for granted up-to-the-minute television news updates.
Take, for instance, the reporting on the life or death clashes in Iraq or Afghanistan – which has been made so much easier thanks to the internet and satellite communications.
Wars and conflicts these days – while no less bloody or tragic – are better scrutinised, better explained and better understood.
What’s more, the advent of ‘smart bombs’ (or precision-guided munitions to give them their correct term), aerial drones (unmanned aerial vehicles) and more and more powerful and clinical weapons means that the art of warfare itself has changed radically. It’s simply no longer a case of who has the most troops, tanks and heavy artillery.
This certainly isn’t warfare as Bill Brindley and his mates in the North Staffordshire Regiment would recognise it.
Of the 1,000 men in the regiment who went to France with Bill only half of them returned. Let us stop for a second and just think about that: 500 men from just one regiment.
That’s more than the total number of deaths suffered by the UK thus far during operations in Afghanistan.
Our Bill lied about his age to get into the Army and signed up when he was just 17.
During the British Expeditionary Force’s evacuation from Dunkirk wounded Bill’s hospital ship was hit by a torpedo and sunk.
He was fished out of the water by a civilian in one of the many small boats which took part in the operation to rescue allied troops from Hitler’s encircling armies.
He then returned to the fray with the 8th Army – serving in North Africa, Italy, France and finally Germany.
This is Boy’s Own stuff – it really is. But the truth is, Bill’s story was fairly commonplace back then because it was a time of ordinary men and women doing extraordinary things.
These days the media analyses the minutiae of every tiny skirmish to the nth degree.
Just imagine what Sky News would have made of the Dunkirk evacuation – an event so momentous and powerful that we still refer to it to this day when referencing a never-say-die spirit.
Bill’s generation is special because they fought in a global war which threatened the sovereignty of our nation and shaped the very history of the world.
I dare say that never again will we see conflict on such a scale and with so much at stake for so many.
Bill and his comrades sailed and flew overseas not as global policemen but as genuine freedom fighters knowing that defeat meant their loved ones would suffer.
They were our last line of defence and their relatives and friends back in Blighty had absolutely no idea how the war would pan out or what fate would befall their husbands, sons, fathers and brothers.
Without the Bill Brindleys of this world who knows what Britain in 2012 would look like.
The Second World War generation may be dying off but we will remember them because we should remember them.
What’s more, it’s up to us left behind to instil in future generations the importance of the sacrifices they made and the debt we owe them.
Read my Personally Speaking columns every Tuesday in The Sentinel