IN 1990, as the first Gulf War began, a Ministry of Defence official telephoned the Echo newsdesk to offer a journalist a place with the Army on Operation Desert Storm.

There were a limited number of slots for regional reporters and the Echo had been selected to represent papers in the south west.

The editor asked three senior journalists in turn and they all agonised for several hours. Such a chance would probably not come by again.

But each had young children and was worried about being caught up for several weeks in what Saddam promised would be the “mother of all battles”, possibly involving chemical weapons like anthrax.

All three eventually declined and for at least one, there always remained a tinge of regret at spurning such an enormous opportunity. I know that for certain because the last of the three was me.

Though I subsequently spent time with the army during the Balkans War, in Northern Ireland and later in Kosovo, the Gulf conflict always remained a personal what if?

In the event, Desert Storm was over quickly and with relatively few casualties and the young Echo reporter who went for us, Simon Clifford, was later hired by the Daily Mail.

In the past two decades, warfare has changed dramatically and the risks to military personnel, civilians and journalists have become even greater. What hasn’t changed is the desire of some reporters to tell the story of war.

Reporters like Rupert Hamer, the first British journalist to die in Afghanistan since 2001. He worked for the Echo in the mid-90s and leaves three young children and a widow, Helen, who was also a reporter on this paper.

Most broadcasters and reporters who go to a war zone, in this case Helmand, will never find themselves in grave danger.

But the growing threat from improvised explosive devices (IEDs) – for the people, the soldiers, and the journalists – is real.

Increasingly, journalists covering conflicts are “embedded” with units – as Rupert was with the US Marines. It’s the only way of getting to the frontline. Those attached to British battalions rarely stay for more than two weeks.

After flying in to Camp Bastion, they are met by members of the military's media operations team.

Many broadcasters do not make it much beyond the safety of Britain’s biggest base, or the reasonably comfortable confines of the operational headquarters at Lashkar Gah.

Others prefer to push further forward, travelling by helicopter to the outlying bases, where the majority of the fighting takes places Journalists want to get a feel for the soldiers’ day-to-day life. But it means they are subject to the same dangers as the troops.

Rupert’s boss, Sunday Mirror editor Tina Weaver, said Rupert believed in reporting a war from the front line.

That means going out on foot patrols or in vehicles, such as the Mastiff or its baby brother, the Ridgeback.

These heavily armoured vehicles are designed to withstand massive explosions. Many soldiers tell stories of driving over an IED in a Mastiff or Ridgeback and surviving unscathed.

But it is the American version of the Ridgeback in which Rupert was killed.

Soldiers want people back at home to know what they are doing. I found that wherever I went, from the Falls Road to the ethnically-cleansed towns and villages of the former Yugoslavia.

In 2006, Echo reporter Andy Davey joined British forces in Iraq. “It would be remiss of me to pretend to be anything other than anxious,” he wrote.

“But I think it would be a terrible shame to ignore the opportunity to report on those who put their lives at risk every day to bring hope to others that are caught up in the conflict.”

Lieutenant Colonel David Wakefield, spokesman for the UK-led Task Force Helmand, speaking from Afghanistan, said: “We want people, particularly the British public, to know about what we’re doing here and how we’re doing it; what we do here we do in their name and, ultimately, to protect them.”

Reporting objectively and yet not getting too close to the troops is a difficult balance to strike. Poole-based writer Claire McNaughton, who helped put together the book Immediate Response with a major from the Royal Marines, had many conversations with Rupert Hamer, the last one shortly before he left for Afghanistan on New Year’s Eve.

“I know a lot of people in the military really respected Rupert and trusted him – which is unusual because the soldiers don’t usually trust the media,” she said. “My impression was that he was only interested in getting at the truth.”

No wonder political leaders including Gordon Brown and David Cameron quickly paid tribute to the “skill, determination and courage” of Rupert Hamer, his photographer Philip, and by implication, all journalists who report from the front line.

Rupert Hamer’s body was repatriated to RAF Lyneham yesterday.