My son at war

SUSAN McCrirrick's daily routine appears the same as that of many busy mothers.

She wakes up early, catches the television news over breakfast, opens her shop at 8am and deals with customers all day before grabbing a brief rest. This evening, she's going to a keep fit class.

But the days are far from typical for Mrs McCrirrick right now. A picture of her son, which hangs over the mantelpiece at her Sharples home, is the reason why.

The smiling figure in the picture is wearing an immaculately pressed military uniform. He is Lance Corporal Steven Nightingale. And he is somewhere near Basra, in the midst of the battle blazing in Iraq.

The 24-year-old tank mechanic with the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers is attached to the 7th Armoured Brigade -- the Desert Rats -- which has been in the thick of the desert action.

Mrs McCrirrick looks at a letter from him, written when he was stationed in Kuwait, just before the conflict erupted. The airmail paper has been read and re-read so many times that it is falling apart.

In the letter, the former Withins School pupil complains in a good-natured way about the lack of proper shower facilities.

But his mother's concerns now are of a different order. Mrs McCrirrick, aged 41, has not heard from L/Cpl Nightingale since the war in Iraq began and, like any mother, she fears for her son's safety.

She says: "Everyone whose sons and daughters have been captured or killed must have thought it wouldn't happen to them, but it has to happen to someone."

Watching the television pictures being beamed from the Gulf, she strains for a mention of his brigade.

Instead, she hears news of two British soldiers killed in a "friendly fire" incident and sees pictures of captured US soldiers being paraded by their Iraqi captors.

She says: "As soon as you hear about British casualties, you jump to the worst conclusion. You think: 'What if it's him?'

"I don't know what to expect if anything happened; I don't know whether I'd get a phone call or people from the Ministry of Defence would just turn up.

"It's a real relief when you realise it isn't your son, but my heart goes out to the other families.

"I felt terrible the other night watching those American soldiers who had been captured on television. They just looked terrified."

If Mrs McCrirrick is keeping to her normal routine, it's because it is the only way to shut out such images.

She owns Tastie Bites sandwich store, in Sharples Avenue, and is heavily involved with Bolton Area Divers, which shares the premises.

And while the mother-of-five is cheerful and good-humoured company, her words reveal the strain she is feeling.

She says: "I'd rather just keep busy and occupy myself. It doesn't mean I'm not thinking about Steven, but he would want us to get on with our lives. He's probably not thinking about home!

"But the minute I stop working, or see a newspaper, it brings it all back to me.

"There have been nights when I've been awake for hours wondering where he is and what he's doing.

"I'm not really a church-goer, but I do believe in God, and I've been praying more than I would normally. At times like this, you need Him on your side."

It's not only Mrs McCrirrick who is feeling the strain but also Steven's sisters Michelle, aged 20, Vicky, aged 19, and brother Lee, aged 13.

Only two-year-old Jack is blissfully unaware of the connection between his older brother and the TV footage of desert conflict showing in the family's living room.

"I've been trying to watch the Six O'Clock news after work, but it's impossible with Jack running around so I'm having to see the later bulletins instead," says Mrs McCrirrick.

"My daughters are normally more into soaps but they watch the news all the time now trying to find out what's going on."

Lee, who goes to Turton High School, is baffled by anti-war sentiment among some fellow pupils.

Mrs McCrirrick says: "He looks up to his brother and keeps saying he's going to join the army when he's old enough."

L/Cpl Nightingale has been in the forces since he was 17. He did well in his GCSEs but, unable to find a civilian job which suited him, decided on the army.

"When he told us he was going to join up, we didn't try to dissuade him," says Mrs McCrirrick. "We just said: 'If that's what you want to do, we will support you.'

"He originally said he was only going to join up for a couple of years, then another two and now it's been seven, so he must have been enjoying it."

But while his mother says Saddam Hussein is a brutal dictator who should be overthrown, she does admit to occasional reservations about the war.

She says: "I do feel sad when I see pictures of injured Iraqi children. I don't know whether the war is right or wrong. It's not up to Steven, he's just got to go and do a job."

It's no ordinary job, and no one knows how long it will be before L/Cpl Nightingale is back in his living room.

Even the most optimistic estimates suggest it will be another six months before the troops are able to come home.

More sleepless nights and scares are likely before the smiles return.