IT’S true, I am a bit war weary. There have been battles raging around me for the best part of 14 years.

Since I was struck by the thunderbolt of love I have lived on the tenterhooks of warring factions for so many years that I am tired of the continuous conflicts in my life.

The first time I was kept awake all night waiting with bated breath for my husband to land safely, was during the Drumcree riots in Northern Ireland, in August 1996.

With sore, saucer eyes I watched the 24-hour news while Drumcree burned, listening to the background thump of rotors during the reports, waiting until dawn broke for the call to say that he had made it home safely, later to be awarded the General Officer Commanding commendation for his efforts.

Many conflicts followed and my insomnia worsened.

There was Sierra Leone, Bosnia, Iraq (x4) and Afghanistan (x8).

Iraq II was a tough war for me to support because I didn’t believe we should be there.

Many wives kept our opinions to ourselves. One of my friends’ parents marched on Westminster and passively protested – my friend joined them in spirit, but not in person.

To actively protest against the war would not be the action of a wise wife. In my mind we should not have gone to war and for me, personally, democracy failed.

I felt then, as I do now, that the people had no say in the actions of our government as I watched Tony Blair take us into a war that the people did not want.

The military want to fight.

It is what they are trained to do. It is their business. I lived within the shackles of the service for more than a decade, and my husband wanted to serve his country and be the best he could be.

He still does.

If there’s a battle to be had, he wants to be there leading the charge, showing the enemy his mettle. He has consistently risen to that challenge in the face of danger and was mentioned in Dispatches to boot.

At the moment, there are subtle movements in the military undercurrents. My war senses are tingling.

I sense they are quietly preparing to go to war again.

I think that behind the Cabinet doors, David Cameron is tacitly mustering the machine.

When parliament voted against going into battle, I heaved a temporary sigh of relief. But if we must go to war again, this time I would prefer that we do so with the authorisation of the UN.