Farewell Wootton Bassett

The sights and sounds are now all too painfully familiar.

A flag-draped coffin in a gleaming hearse. The tolling of the church bell.  Then silence punctuated by the sobs of a widow or mother – the shuffling of feet as flowers are thrown. Row upon row of British faces, set against whatever weather, young and old, military and civilian, lining the streets of a town we all now feel we know. All there to welcome home a loved one lost in the heat of battle, back to English soil.

Mark Sheldon lost his son Rifleman Adrian Sheldon two years ago. Sitting in Wootton Bassett’s Cross Keys pub, which provides shelter for every grieving family – he told me what the town meant to him the day Adrian was brought back.
“It’s the worst day of your life and you feel like the loneliest person in the world. But when you come to Wootton Bassett you realise you’re not – you’ve got all these people – from children to pensioners, from the British Legion to motorbikers. It gives you comfort in your heart.”

Wootton Bassett’s unique tribute, which was started spontaneously by a handful of its people, affects deeply those who witness it. Barry Albin-Dyer – the funeral director who accompanies the coffins on their journey back from Afghanistan, has watched it grow in size and significance. The road through Wootton Bassett makes the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, especially as he prepares to walk ahead of the cortege. He explained:

“You get butterflies in your tummy – you’re anxious you shouldn’t make any error and that every part of you is immaculate. The sound of Wootton Bassett is silence – it’s unique. You experience that silence and as you walk you can see that tears weigh heavy in people’s hearts. They’ve changed the thinking of the whole country. They’ve spoken to the country.”

He’s right. Wootton Bassett not only pays eloquent tribute, it has also changed forever the way Britain grieves for its war dead and marks their sacrifice.  Alongside our pillars of stone carved with the names of the fallen, it has become a living, breathing memorial.  It has given public space to private grief, and has allowed arms to be extended in comfort to families in their darkest hour.  Its impact has been felt even in the White House, with President Obama describing Wootton Bassett’s tribute as representing the best of British character.
And yet all of this is about to come to an end, as the Ministry of Defence prepares, controversially to change the route for repatriation.  RAF Lyneham is to close, which means the dead will now be flown into RAF Brize Norton. Instead of passing through the centre of Wootton Bassett, the cortege’s route to the coroner will skirt the edge of the village of Carterton, where the local authorities are preparing a special site for people to stand in tribute. The village centre has been ruled out by Oxfordshire County Council due to concerns over traffic congestion. To some, such a deciding factor hardly seems in the spirit of what has been created in Wootton Bassett.  For those who’ve felt the comfort the town has offered, it is not good enough.

Major John Thorneloe is the father of the most senior officer to die in Afghanistan. Hundreds lined the street to welcome his son Lieutenant Colonel Rupert Thorneloe and his colleague Trooper Joshua Hammond home, after they died together in an explosion in Helmand. He had tears in his eyes as he remembered his son’s repatriation day.

“It meant a huge amount to me personally. They brought me great comfort in my hour of need. Wootton Bassett has made such a difference. It’s really been the major cause of the public awareness and the public ability to appreciate those who’ve fallen on their behalf. It’s a way of saying thank you – and from a national point of view it’s absolutely imperative that it’s recreated.”

“Nothing should stand in the way of Wootton Bassett being rejuvenated, whether it’s done by the public or whether it’s planned.  There’s got to be somewhere in a village or a town that can welcome people on their doorstep”.

Rupert Thorneloe’s repatriation was the only one attended by the former head of the Army, General the Lord Dannatt. There have been questions raised about whether in changing the repatriation route, the Ministry of Defence somehow wishes to stem the emotions which flow so freely in Wootton Bassett and detract attention from the losses of the war in Afghanistan. But it’s a view he refutes, and he’s clear in his mind people will find a way to keep the spirit of Wootton alive.

“The atmosphere in Wootton Bassett was very special – you had to be there to feel it. The quiet, the dignity and the huge wave of respect for what our service people are doing.

“It brings the public attention very visibly to the fact servicemen are dying on duty. It’s really important because it means there is a human cost to all this and the public are very aware of that cost. Wootton Bassett was a spontaneous gesture. Something else might start – somewhere else.”

But as Wootton Bassett prepares to say its final farewell, the families of the fallen know in their hearts it is irreplaceable, and that its unique place in British history is assured. Mark Sheldon smiles as he thinks of his son.

“If Adrian could speak now” he tells me, “he’d say if you die, normally you see Angels and you’d be off to heaven. If you’re a soldier, you see Wootton Bassett”.
[Story: Julie Etchingham] – [Video footage: ITV News]