Rob Cooper; a colleague and a pal. Rob was a relatively new friend, whom I met for the first time about two and a half years ago in Kenya. I quickly learned to value him, and appreciate his skills and qualities. He was, to put it bluntly, fond of his drink, as many of us are, as we try to cope with what this world throws at us. I think his passion for Indian cuisine was a part of the romantic side of his character; everything was conceived, developed, planned, and enjoyed in a haze of cigarette smoke. The prospect of a good curry was guaranteed to get him excited. It’s hard to write about the recently departed, but here goes… please forgive me, everyone out there, for the errors and foolishness in this clumsy attempt to sum up what I saw in Rob. There are many others who knew him far better than I did. Forgive me also for being long-winded. I soon saw that Rob was very sensitive, as well as being very obviously tough. Those are good qualities to have, and they were well balanced. He shared many great stories and memories with us, not …when I was in the army… etc. but usually colourful stories of wild places, amazing events, and people he had met and worked with. Being a sensitive person, he was a good observer of people and places, which made him a good man to be with. I knew him mainly as a specialist in security and safety, and for this he was ideal, being both calm and matured, hugely confident as he worked, and able to train effectively. He used many methods as a trainer, including humour, diligence, a complete grasp of his chosen subjects, the ability to steer through sessions when those who needed to learn the most feel they already know it all. He could stand there and enthral, challenge, nurture, coach, and encourage. He could also shock, frighten, and build resolve. He cared about the outcome, and cared enough to take time to be with people who needed more help or additional coaching. I was one of those. One of his very special skills was the ability to work effectively in very difficult places, and to work with those strange and sometimes dangerous characters who populate the war zones and flash points of our troubled world. He handled these places and people with a professional zeal, but also with care, sensitivity, and determination. He will be missed by many, and those shoes will not be filled in a hurry. Rob did a very thorough job. On top of this he was a man of knowledge and experience, well informed. He had the most effective common sense and very fine instincts. But he also brought a sense of humour to the place, however difficult. I was never with him in very dangerous places, but we shared a lot of stories about the Sudan and other locations in the Horn of Africa, which is my stomping ground. His tales of dreadful food and harsh conditions triggered that great Brit sense of humour in him. Stale goat meat became high cuisine, the absence of wine and beer a health spa experience. A tiny tent at 45 degrees centigrade, no bathrooms, and no kitchen, not even a proper cup of tea, all in a day’s work. I was once in a discussion (before meeting Rob) about the way anger, shouting, and coercion are used as part of management, or in the way we work. We all agreed that anger has to be very carefully controlled, but we couldn’t agree on whether shouting is useful as an instrument in the work place. Needless to say I’ve learned to shout a lot less than I used to. Shouting is simply not PC is it? Rob shouted quite a lot, but he often managed to do it in a nice way, which sounds odd. His shouting was often a part of his humour; making a point, making sure everyone heard it, but also making sure it didn’t hurt people. A remarkable man, and a great loss. He’s left us long before his due date. He’s far too young to be up there with the angels, and it’s hard to understand such a sudden loss. We have to accept that Rob has gone, but it’ll take some time to come to terms with the loss. Someone once said that we have to just come as we are for many of the main events in life, with little or no time to prepare, and I sense that this is how it was. Rob’s in good hands now, but we grieve, which is a painful and difficult process, and we need comfort and guidance as we move forward. It’s not just hard to understand loss, it’s impossible at first, then slowly we’re able to move on. Allow me to share a verse from John Newton with you, hoping it will help through these dark days. Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come; ‘tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, And grace will lead me home. May God bless Rob Cooper, his family, friends, and all those who miss him. Ends…