By The Telegraph (World News) | Created at 2024-11-24 09:05:13 | Updated at 2024-11-24 11:50:24
2 hours ago
Captain Mark Hale was – in modern parlance – a “girl dad”. “He embraced being the father of two daughters; I have fond memories of him joining in with me doing ballet plies in the kitchen when I was little,” recalls his daughter, Alix. “He was 6’4” and fiercely uncoordinated, so ballet was a car crash but I love remembering dancing in the kitchen with my dad.”
During his 26 years in the Armed Forces, Capt Hale travelled all over the world, serving in Northern Ireland, Bosnia, Iraq and eventually Afghanistan. Yet despite the time he spent overseas, Alix, now 24, remembers how “family orientated” her father was.
“Everything we did, we did together,” she says. “When my sister decided she wanted to start rowing, he started rowing with her, and me and mum would cycle down the canal towpath following them. I have a lot of memories of being outdoors with him, being active.”
Though her father was away a lot, Alix admits she was mostly in the dark about his career. “We lived in Northern Ireland so there was probably a risk in telling a young child what daddy did for work,” she explains.
“Before he went away we’d pull out the atlas and talk about the country he was going to,” she adds. “He’d put a green star on the map in my bedroom so I knew where he was. I had no idea of what was going on out there – Mum wouldn’t have the news on while he was away.
“I remember the excitement of when he came back – we’d go and meet him at the airport,” enthuses Alix. “Maybe it’s a hindsight thing, because this is the lens I look at it through now, but I have more memories of him going than I do of him returning. It was always hard.”
On August 13 2009, Capt Hale was caught in the blast of an improvised explosive device while on patrol in Afghanistan. He died in hospital at Camp Bastion hours later.
“I was at summer school,” says Alix, who was eight at the time. “We’d made bracelets and I’d done one for my dad in his regimental colours. I was so excited to show Mum.”
When Alix’s mother didn’t arrive at pick-up time, alarm bells rang for the teachers. “Eventually my aunt and uncle collected me,” she remembers. “I was just excited to see them. I spent the car journey telling them about my new school shoes for next term. Looking back, I remember my aunt was silent the entire journey, which I didn’t pick up on then.”
As they approached the house, Alix could see something unusual was going on. “There were cars everywhere; on the road, blocking pavements, on driveways, on the grass. I asked my uncle whether someone was having a party,” she says.
Alix’s mum met them at the door. “I remember saying ‘Mummy, I want to show them [her aunty and uncle] my new school shoes’. Mum said: ‘We need to go upstairs and have a conversation.’”
“She took me up to my bedroom and sat down with me on my bed,” recalls Alix. “She took me by the hand. I’ll always remember her words. She said: ‘Alix, I’m really, really sorry but when Daddy went to work today, he got taken to heaven and he can’t come home. He’s really sorry that he can’t come to say goodbye, but he’s with Jesus now.’”
“I didn’t know what it meant. I just started screaming,” says Alix. “I felt this fear and panic. Not seeing someone ever again is quite a big concept for an eight-year-old to grasp. I was confused. It was a whirlwind. The house was flooded with people; family members, friends. You sort of go through the motions after that.”
Capt Hale’s death was a major news story. He was the longest serving British soldier to have died in Afghanistan and among the first from Northern Ireland.
Alix went with her sister and mum to Wootton Bassett to see her father’s body being repatriated. “It was traumatic, seeing the coffins coming through, all these people in military uniforms; I soon realised this war in Afghanistan was a big part of the news,” she says.
Despite their young ages, Alix, 8, and her elder sister, 16, found themselves at the centre of significant media interest. “It was the first time a soldier from Northern Ireland died, so the local press wanted their moment,” she recalls. “After the funeral, we couldn’t go home because the tabloids parked themselves in our front garden.”
The issues didn’t stop there. Capt Hale’s pay was frozen: it couldn’t go into his bank account because that had been closed due to his death. The Ministry of Defence lost his will so Alix’s mother couldn’t access the widow’s pension, so the grieving family found themselves in a desperate situation. “We fell through every hole in the net,” explains Alix.
The most pressing issue was Alix’s schooling. Like many army children, Alix had her school fees paid in large part by the MoD, but with her father’s death it looked like they would have to find a new school with just 15 days before the start of term.
“Dad’s commanding officer advised us to speak to the Army Benevolent Fund who stepped in and covered my school fees for the next three years,” explains Alix. “No questions, no fuss, they just did it.”
School was a safe place for Alix. “Everything was changing suddenly. Everyone knew about Dad’s death, it was all over the news. School offered me shelter,” she says. “I was given a chance to deal with it in my own time.”
Because the school knew Alix and what she was going through, they could personalise her schooling. “They did lots of things for me,” she explains. “They cancelled Father’s Day activities. They did fundraisers for the Army Benevolent Fund. They gave me extra help to ensure I passed my 11+ and could get into grammar school. When I was having a tough time, they were able to recognise it early and react accordingly.”
Being able to continue on in private education meant Alix “had one-on-one support with teachers I knew and trusted, which made all the difference.”
In 2019, Alix went to Oxford Brookes to study Politics and International Relations, before moving to Brussels for a career in PR. She also volunteers, working for a foundation which helps army veterans transition into political roles. She credits her success to the Army Benevolent Fund’s help all those years before.
“If I hadn’t been looked after in primary school, I wouldn’t have made it to university,” she says. “A lot of personal development happens at that age. I was lucky to be able to stay, to have that one bit of normality after my world was torn apart.”
Now Alix volunteers her time to fundraise and speak for the Army Benevolent Fund. “They came in and supported our family during our hardest chapter,” she says. “That’s what they do. If veterans have issues, the Army Benevolent Fund is there for them. They’ve become like a big extended family to me.”
Even 15 years after his death, Alix still feels her father’s influence. “Every rite of passage is bittersweet,” she admits. “I wish I could look at significant moments and think, ‘That day was pure joy’, but there’s always a part of me that thinks, ‘I wish he’d been here for it.’ But I know he’d be proud of me, which has given my life a lot of direction. I want to make the world a better place to make him proud.”
Army Benevolent Fund is one of four charities supported by this year’s Telegraph Christmas Charity Appeal. The others are Humanity & Inclusion, Teenage Cancer Trust and Alzheimer’s Research UK. To make a donation, please visit telegraph.co.uk/2024appeal or call 0151 317 5247
