We armchair warriors consider ourselves well-versed in the sad rituals of repatriation. Flag-draped coffins leaving the belly of a military aircraft, the convoy of hearses through the Wiltshire town of Wootton Bassett, relatives with flowers and tears. It's now a deep, familiar colour in the weave of national life.
But our understanding of a dead soldier's homecoming stops at the lychgate and the crematorium steps. Only the bereaved have to look beyond that. They know another kind of repatriation is awaiting them.
Continues at: Telegraph.co.uk - Christina Schmid: Olaf and I were everything to each other













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