Pamela Tunnicliffe was on her knees cleaning her flat when the British Army colonel arrived, sat on the sofa and told her that her youngest son had been killed in Afghanistan.

“I’m not easily upset,” Mrs Tunnicliffe, 71, said yesterday. “I didn’t cry or scream. I called my neighbours and went round to see them for a cup of tea. Then I thought I’d better get back and finish off the cleaning.”

Beneath her tough, northern stoicism, Mrs Tunnicliffe has had a hard time since her son Brian, 33, died in a road accident during a night patrol in southern Afghanistan last September.

The media attention, sympathy and offers of help died away after “just a day or two”. Mrs Tunnicliffe was left alone, with a poor back and weak legs, in the council flat that she used to share with Brian in the former coalmining town of Ilkeston, Derbyshire.

Her eldest son, Owen, 43, suffers from autism and lives in a home. He was traumatised by his brother’s death but Mrs Tunnicliffe can only get to see him once every few months. She rarely sees her daughter and has lost touch completely with Brian’s wife. Her husband died five years ago.

“The Army did write to me and ask if I was all right, if I was coping, but that was it,” she said. “I didn’t even bother replying.”

Mrs Tunnicliffe is angry with the Army, not for taking her son away or for sending him out in the dead of night along broken, potholed roads. Brian, she said, probably volunteered to go — “the Army was his life”. Mrs Tunnicliffe is angry with the Army for not allowing her to grieve that he has gone. She told The Times yesterday that, nine months after he died, she is still waiting to receive Brian’s death certificate from the Ministry of Defence. She will not be able to shed a tear until she does.

“They have said I should get it by the end of this month,” she said, wearily. “It’s like losing a bit of yourself when you lose someone close like a son. I think about him every day. But I can’t really believe he’s dead until I get this piece of paper. I’ve been to my son’s cremation, but until I see the certificate, it’s not real. When I see the certificate, then the tears will come.”

Private Tunnicliffe had been employed in variety of roles, spending much of his time as a storeman, taking charge of provisions and supplies for colleagues. He was described as a warm-hearted individual “who would always go that extra mile”. Captain Richard Slaney, Quartermaster (Technical) 2nd Battalion The Mercian Regiment, said that he had two sides. “On one side he was as strong as an ox, he could dig a trench and have brews on in no time. On the other side he loved baking cakes which he would proudly share with the lads.”

Source: Ministry of Defence Factsheet:

http://www.mod.uk/DefenceInternet/FactSheets/OperationsFactsheets/OperationsInAfghanistanBritishFatalities.htm

Map positions are approximate, dependent on the amount of information given by the MoD.

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