Falklands anniversary: widow lights a candle to the fallen Yesterday she took some salace in meeting Major John Phillips for the first time, the bomb disposal expert who subsequently defused one of the devices. "Today has been the most incredible day," said Mrs Allen who admitted "there will be times when I am overwhelmed." When I lit the candle all I could see was Iain's face and it was quite hard to manage at that moment. But it was a very emotional moment, and a wonderful service. I was so proud to be able to light a candle in honour of those who lost their lives. The widow, from Derbsyhire, lit the candle that will burn for the 74 days of the conflict. Prayers were said for the dead on both sides of the conflcit before a bugler played the Last Post at the chapel in Alrewas near Burton. Just a short walk away, craftsmen were completing a new memorial for all those who took part in the conflict and were awarded the South Atlantic Medal. A larger event is planned for May 20, when about 600 veterans will attend the dedication of a new monument at the arboretum, consisting of a curved wall complete with rock from the rugged Falkland islands. Commander Peter Mosse, who captained the frigate HMS Ambuscade during the conflict, was among those at the ceremony, and he strongly defended Britain's actions. "Given that an aggressive act was taken and the law was broken, you can't let that happen," he said. We were thankfully able to come back all in one piece and we're able to share the pride of those who actually had to give their lives. One of Britain's heroes in the war was Lieutenant-Colonel H. Jones, the commanding officer of 2 Battalion the Parachute Regiment, who was killed in a charge on Argentine positions during the May 28, 1982, Battle of Goose Green. He was awarded the Victoria Cross, Britain's highest military decoration for valour in the face of the enemy, but his widow, Sarah Jones, said he would not have considered himself any more heroic than any of his men. She said her main emotion was "pride - what our task force achieved was extraordinary." "Anniversaries do make it a little bit more poignant but when you remember someone, it's still a daily remembrance," she said. Mrs Jones said Argentina has "very little claim, if any" to the Falklands, dismissing renewed claims on the territory from Buenos Aires as an attempt to distract domestic attention from the country's financial woes. But, she added: "It's sad to remember how many on their side died. A lot of them were young conscripts who hadn't really a clue what they were going to, poor things. I think they found it a very bitter experience, so of course we must remember them as well. Mrs Allen, 53, whose husband's name is etched on the nearby national memorial still remembers with great clarity the moment she heard of her husband's death - and said that he felt he was going to die just before setting out for the Falklands. She said: "Iain was an amazing man - generous, kind, funny and devastatingly handsome. He was also full of life and quite naughty, they were on the ships in those days. The day before he went away he said he wanted to go to a church when it was quiet. We sat in there. We were so happy. We couldn't be next to each other without holding hands. He said to me "I'm going to die." I told him "if you die, I'm going to kill you." He left me a set of instructions. So in some way when I heard it wasn't a shock, in some way I was expecting it; yet of course it was a great shock. I loved him more than anything in the whole world, nothing can change that. I took him to the station. He was blowing kisses through the window. That was the last I saw of him. She said she heard about the ships being hit and just minutes later had a knock on the door. I had been home literally about 10 minutes when the bell rang and there was a Catholic priest I had never seen in my life. He said Iain was missing, presumed dead. I thought, 'That's all right; that means there is a chance.' I started to make up stories in my mind. Four days later, the same priest came back to say they had recovered his body. By that time they had already buried him at sea. That in itself caused great difficulties. There was nothing tangible, nothing I could hold on to, no way I could start the grieving process. First he's missing, then he's dead, then he's buried at sea. Three months later I got home and his kitbag was on my front doorstep. I bumped into it in the dark. I don't blame anyone, but I suddenly thought he was home. I can still feel that kitbag. I was left with all these questions, some of which I have answered over the years, but many that still remain. As she struggled to cope with her husband's death, Mrs Allen was diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder, which has left her struggling for 30 years to come to terms with what happened. But she now volunteers with the Arboretum, the War Widows" Association and Combat Stress, the Veteran's Mental Health charity. She said: "What is apparent is the legacy of mental health issues that, 30 years on, are only starting to come out. These days so much is done to help those cope with conflict, but at the time nothing like that existed, so people just bottled it up. As I found out myself, there was nowhere to turn. I am finally getting much better; the work I do with the organisations has helped enormously, and I am receiving the right treatment. I am very fortunate and very grateful to be involved with them and for the help they have given me. Yesterday, at the service, she met Major Phillips, who defused one of the bombs that hit the Argonaut, for the first time. They were able to discuss what he did and also she was able to glean more about how her husband died. She said: "I had spoken on him to the phone before the meeting, because I had to ask him some private things and I had to know whether I would be able to speak to him without crumbling in front of people. He was amazing, absolutely fantastic. I managed to thank him for saving all those young lives. We went through all that was necessary for me to know that he could help me with. I don't know whether I will ever have all the answers, but I feel more comfortable now than I have done for many years. "The flower beds have been planted to reflect the different phases of grief," she said. There's red for anger, purple for despair, pastels for acceptance and yellow for memories. I made myself walk through each stage because I couldn't do it all those years ago.