'I carry that awful moment with me': Hero soldier who saved comrade in Taliban ambush on the meaning of Remembrance
A hero soldier who narrowly escaped death - risking his life to save his comrade after a Taliban ambush - has reflected on the enduring importance of Remembrance.
Andrew Radford served in the Household Cavalry for 18 years and received the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross for his heroic actions in Afghanistan in 2006.
During an ambush in Helmand Province, he risked his own life to save comrade Lance Corporal Martyn Compton, who had suffered severe burns and gunshot wounds after an explosion. His actions were credited with saving his colleague's life.
Mr Radford, who is now the chairman of Wrekin Reform UK, joined thousands of residents in Shropshire in marking Remembrance Sunday, and spoke of the importance of commemorations.
"As a veteran, like many of our members, this day holds profound weight," he said. "We are privileged to have such a day because without the sacrifices of the heroes before us, we would not have a present to cherish.
"The men and women of the Great War and the Second World War secured the freedoms we live by - the freedom to speak, to hope, to choose. We must never forget the debt we carry, a debt we can never repay.
"With the years continuing on since the end of the Second World War, and with fewer than 8,000 of its veterans still with us, the responsibility to keep remembrance alive rests with today’s service men and women - the new generations who guard our streets, skies, and seas, often unseen, always resolute."
As Mr Radford honoured fellow servicemen and women, both former and current, one particular moment from his military career was at the forefront of his mind.
He added: "I served in Iraq and Afghanistan, and I lost friends I can never replace. For me, Remembrance Day is one of the hardest days of the year, because for many years I struggled simply to want to be here at all. One moment is carved into my mind: Helmand Province, 2006.
"We were a reconnaissance force sent to extract special forces pinned by the Taliban. A village lay ahead - a choke point we would have avoided at any other time, but urgency left no choice.
"We moved in, our Scimitars and Spartan vehicles cutting across the dust in a silent village. In a brief flicker of levity, my vehicle raced another to the village's edge. The lead callsign edged through narrow confines - compound walls pressing to the left, trees shadowing the right - one way in, one way out. Then the world erupted.
"Taliban fighters opened fire from where they had been waiting for us; a dried-up riverbed. Rocket-propelled grenades smashed into the first vehicle as it fought to reverse, the second backing out with it.
"Then the improvised explosive device detonated, triggered by a command wire of a waiting Taliban fighter, with ruthless precision. The blast was merciless, tearing through the armoured vehicle as if it were butter.
"The rear of the vehicle was thrown a hundred metres away. Three of the four soldiers inside were killed in an instant. If they hadn’t edged ahead of us, my fate would have been much different. I likely would not be here.
"So when I stand in remembrance, at the Cenotaph in Whitehall in ceremonial uniform, or in Wellington Park as I was this Sunday, I carry that awful, life-changing moment with me. Their lives saved mine.
"This is the quiet truth so many veterans live with, a balance measured in names on stone and empty chairs at the table. We owe our heroic dead more than words will ever repay.
"Two minutes of silence is not too much. It is the least we can give - and the most we can mean."
