AFTER all I had heard and seen I wanted to pay my respects.

So I visited the repatriation memorial in Camp Bastion which lists every soldier who has been killed in the line of duty in Helmand province.

This is going to sound really stupid, and I do feel silly writing it, but I desperately didn't want to get to the name of Private Jason Rawstron.

The 27-year-old from Clayton-le-Moors – described as 'one of the army's finest’ – was shot by the Taliban in September 2008.

My eyes scanned the eight gold-plated plaques on the stone memorial.

It wasn't until I reached halfway down the last one that I saw it: 25212935 Pte JL Rawstron 2PARA 12 Sep 08.

I knew it would be there. But something, possibly hope, made me yearn for it not to be.

I didn’t know Jason personally, I’d never even met him but I have interviewed his mum Mandy several times.

Standing there looking at his name, I remembered how she was so proud of her son and his will to make something of his life.

Knowing the effect his death had on the Rawstron family and seeing all the other names was overwhelming.

The plaques also gave a clue to what is happening here at present.

In some months a soldier died every day for a week or so. In other months there were only one or two at the most.

Now the names are mounting up thick and fast.

I had seen evidence of ongoing battle: a soldier in the camp's hospital covered in bandages from head to toe, except for his face. Someone also told me about two Duke of Lancaster's soldiers who lost their legs and another who had been maimed.

During my stay there was also a repatriation ceremony for a soldier who died.

It just leaves you feeling helpless.

I desperately hope the soldiers I spoke to over the last few days – and those I didn't – come back to their families safely.