Do you cry? And if so, why did the tears roll down your face into your mouth? Were they sweet tears?

Whether tears of happiness or tears of sadness, the tear helps us to relieve pain and show our feelings. Sometimes we cry for no reason at all.

“Why are you crying?” someone said to me. I couldn’t give them an answer.

I could fill a ten gallon drum with the amount of tears I have shed from two small parts of my body. Tears from my first injection as a baby to tears in 2019 when my hip joint was popping out of its socket. Tears tell a story.

I clean the lens on my camera to give me optical performance, and I also clean the Sensor as it attracts dust particles. My eyes are susceptible to dust and so we blink, and by blinking the eye liquid is circulated around the ball socket to clean it. Again, this is why I relate the Eye to my camera lens in my Blog or stories.

Crying is seen by many people as a sign of weakness, but it isn’t at all.

Take the hardest physical course in the British Army.

It’s Friday. The weekend rest approaches. You have been pushed to the limit on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday Thursday – five physical tests a day. Your back is covered in medical tape to stop more skin being ripped of through rubbing. Your toes and ankles are taped up to stop blisters. You drink a pint of water with a heaped spoon of salt every night when you finish.

It’s 1400hrs on Friday. Your 50lb pack lifts onto your back. The SLR rifle has had the grip removed, so instead of holding a nice wooden handle you hold a long bolt with a nut on the end.

The 10 mile TAB forced march begins. You start by running at full speed to get the heart racing, the instructor screaming at you next to your eardrum.

The first hill comes. It’s steep and long. You get to the top, down to the bottom, and back up again. 10 times.

You see men lying on the floor crying in pain as you run past them. Men being given smelling salts when they collapse, men sitting on the back of the Land Rover Jeep, a fail if you go on it three times in three weeks and get sent back to unit in disgrace.

So after nine miles, body about to give up, a small tear dribbles down my cheek.

I am afraid of anyone seeing it.

I am a man. I want to wear the coveted Red Beret.

The tear is because of pain and it’s released because of pain, not because I am sad, or upset; sheer agony that my beaten body feels, and it just happens – no control or planning.

So if anyone tells you a man shouldn’t cry, tell them to speak to me. Or even better watch the Channel 4 Documentary on YouTube called P Company.