Thinking about Rupert

My mate Rupert died around new year  eight or nine years ago. We met him and his mrs at antenatal classes for Eloise , so  just over 16 years ago. We got on pretty well . Rupert and I used to go boozing and Helen and Sandrine. Are still pretty close. They were both journalists . Rupert ( Hamer) was a war  journo  with the Sunday mirror . Lots of travel around Iraq and Afghanistan .  Some of it sounded fucking scary . One of the last times I saw him he was moaning how the MoD had reneged on a promise to let him fly to Kabul . He ended up going a few week later, dec 31   2009 as I remember . A few days later blown to bits  by the taliban ( cunts ) . His  photographer , a bloke called Phil lost both legs .  Rupert was lovely , he used to come for beers after work with me and my work buddies , back when we had a real team atmos.