This page is dedicated to the memory of:

Guardsman

Gareth Duane Nicholson

1st Battalion Welsh Guards

Gareth Nicholson. In remembrance of a dear son of Beryl and John and much-loved brother of Debbie and Angela

Born Bridgend 15/8/62 – Died Falklands Islands 8/6/82

From the day he was born he was a joy,

A happy healthy trouble-free boy.

As he grew and attended school, he was no one’s fool.

Excelled at sport, always did his best. Joined the scouts,

Adventurous.

Fell in love with his school sweetheart Lorraine.

Disappointed, the apprentice Carpenter was not to be.

So the Welsh Guards he joined, as you can see.

He passed out with honours, we were all so proud.

Scored the only try in his rugby team, carried of shoulder high.

Travelled the world, grew into a man.

Climbed Mount Kenya, not everyone can.

He loved the life, although it was hard.

Protecting the Queen while standing on guard.

Married at Eighteen, grew up so quick.

Our lives were to change when the Falklands war broke out.

On the QE2 he sailed away. “Don’t worry mum, I’ll soon be home, you’ll see”,

as he waved goodbye.

I awoke one night to see Gareth standing there,

with his arms stretched out calling mum.

I screamed out loud, “No! No!”

Three days later the devastating news came, our son had been killed.

He perished on the Sir Galahad with 48 of his mates.

His grave is at the bottom of the sea 4000 miles away.

My heart aches still after all these years,

sometimes it gets unbearable.

But we all must carry on

and precious memories of our dear son and brother keep us going.

We are all so proud of him,

his courage, bravery and endurance he has passed onto us.

He was the light of our lives.

He will not fade.

You’re our hero Gareth.

Remembered with love every day.

So proud to call you ours.

By Beryl Nicholson

 

Martin King

Having seen Gareth’s remembrance page, it brought many memories back. I can only confirm from the depth of my heart that Gareth was an exceedingly generous man. One occasion before our departure to Kenya I was having trouble finding a place for myself and my girlfriend to stay (we had 5 days leave) so Gareth offered me his spare bedroom (he had only just married Lorraine at the time): While in Kenya we were advancing down a mountain when Gareth stepped on a thorn which penetrated not only his boot but also his foot. I stopped, took his boot off and helped him down the mountain. Only a trivial event, but these things stay in your mind for life. He was always fair, tolerant honest and in a perpetual good mood. Everyone loved him, they always will. Nobody had a bad word to say about him, he was that kind of guy.

I myself grew up in Bridgend, where Gareth comes from. During the Easter festivities I happened upon a woman who was at a church meeting in my mother’s house. We fell in conversation about teaching and the merits of such, when she mentioned that she had actually taught Gareth at school. How small can the world be?