I've been thinking all day about how I can find the words for what we experienced last week. An hours drive from my house, then half an hour on the Eurotunnel, and we were in the world's worst refugee camp in terms of resources and conditions, yet we were welcomed with open arms. It's amazing how only the people who have nothing really know how to share.
The measure of success in Northern Nigeria is whether civilians feel free from fear. Nigeria's sovereign government, with international partners lending their expertise, should be able not simply to clear the battlefield, but to satisfy the reasonable aspirations of the people to a secure and prosperous future. That could be a lesson for the rest of the world to learn.
I want my government to remember the numerous times the UK has displayed compassion and commitment to human life and dignity by providing refuge for those facing persecution. During the Second World War they helped the Kindertransport children, in the 1980s they took in refugees from Vietnam, and in the 1990s they helped those fleeing from war in Bosnia and Kosovo. Sadly, the lack of support they are currently offering refugees will definitely be a stain on their history.
The most important moment I will remember personally, the time the Prince stepped in and told a group of very unhappy soldiers to 'back the f**k off' and leave me alone. The morning Harry had to come to my rescue, word had got round among the other regiment about what had happened between me and one of their own, and a group of angry sergeants wanted my blood - because to them, I was obviously to blame. Harry caught wind of the situation and confronted the older non-commissioned officers, and made, quite clear, that they would be for the high jump if they gave me another second's hassle over the issue - my sexuality.