Darren (Daz) sadly lost his life at the age of 17. This left his mum, dad, two brothers and two special aunties heartbroken. I also lost my best friend. 

We did everything together. We joined the cubs, the scouts, the army cadets and played football in the same team. We even created a personal telephone wire with speakers between our houses. His house was a 100 yards up the avenue from me, and 5 houses separated us. We played ELO, Jeff Wayne’s War of the World, Bob Marley and Kate Bush to each other and pretended to be late night DJs. We got into mischief, we customised our push bikes, we constructed dens, we helped each other with school homework. At the age of 15 Daz would walk 4 miles into Manchester city centre late at night to meet me after work. We’d then walk the 4 miles back, loaded with Mars bars and other treats. 

Daz was determined, his dream was to be in the parachute regiment. His bedroom wall was plastered in army posters (as was mine). He joined the YMCA, He trained very hard; running, boxing and excelling in all sports. He even tried to get an O level in physics, though it was clearly not a subject he had an affinity for. He adored his mum and visited his two favourite aunties whenever he could. He was also extremely good looking and always a charmer with the ladies. 

It was no surprise to me that he achieved his ambition of getting into The Parachute Regiment. All boded well for a fantastic future and I’m convinced he would have enjoyed a long and successful career. In April of 1981 he returned home for a spell of leave and complained of having pains in his stomach. In May, shortly after his return, he collapsed on a training run. A few days later, he died in hospital. 

I lay red roses on the grave which he now shares with his beloved mother. I often reflect on his life. He packed a lot in and he will never be forgotten."