In a crowded, Zambian slum on VE Day, a family gathered to bury one of the last veterans of Britain’s colonial army. Jaston Khosa of the Northern Rhodesia Regiment was laid to rest on the day the world commemorated the end of the war in which he fought. The 95-year-old great-grandfather was among 600,000 Africans who fought for the British during World War Two, on battlefields across their own continent as well as Asia and the Middle East. Although their service has largely been forgotten, the mobilisation of this huge army from Britain’s colonies triggered the largest single movement of African men overseas since the slave trade. In a eulogy to her father, M’tundu Khosa wrote: “Young man, you were a soldier. You are still a soldier to me. You have fought for your health till the last hour. My hero, always.” “My father died a proud soldier,” she told The Guardian after the funeral. “He would always talk about his war experiences. He was a strong, beautiful man and a friend to everyone, regardless of who they were. We will always remember him and we will meet on the other side.” From his home in Zambia’s capital, Lusaka, Khosa enlisted and was sent to Somaliland in East Africa to rout Italian forces, which had formed the Axis alliance with Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan. But more than seven decades on from his wartime service, Khosa died in poverty, in a dilapidated house in a squalid shantytown. In late 2018, Khosa was invited to meet Prince Harry at a veterans’ event in Lusaka and spoke with the royal about his years fighting for Britain as well as his current state of destitution. At the time, he said he hoped that his meeting with the prince would raise awareness of the plight of Africa’s war veterans. “He can try to report it to UK when he goes back and say that Mr Khosa, his house is not good,” he said. “I was a soldier of the British Empire.” But the elderly veteran’s fortunes did not change. His health deteriorated, and he died on Tuesday evening at home surrounded by his family. Fearful of the coronavirus and unable to afford medical care, his family decided against taking him to hospital. So his diagnosis is not clear; relatives believe he succumbed to cancer or kidney problems. Khosa was a keen supporter of the yearly Poppy Appeal fundraising event and enjoyed regaling friends and family with wartime tales. But he remained critical of the derisory level of state support for veterans. “He was smart, he was always polite and he was never afraid to say how useless the government were,” said Mike Reeve-Tucker, a member of the Royal Commonwealth Ex-Services League in Zambia. “They’ve done bugger all for them.” He added: “As long as I can remember Mr Khosa has laid the wreath at the annual Cenotaph Parade in Lusaka and was always smartly turned out. He was an amazing guy.” Khosa never lost his fighting spirit and was known to berate his country’s leader at Armistice Day events. “Whenever he saw [the Zambian president] Lungu, he always had a real bloody go at him,” reminisced Reeve-Tucker, a former lieutenant colonel in the British Army. At one parade, he added, Khosa and other former servicemen became so vocal that a Zambian veterans’ representative had to intervene and give a stern reprimand: “Boys, stop it — the war’s over, okay.” Almost one and a half million African soldiers drawn from European colonies fought in the war. Britain’s African troops also faced discrimination. Some men were forcibly recruited even though the official line was that enlistment would be voluntary. Others faced beatings and floggings. The number who died is unknown. All of Britain’s soldiers were paid an end-of-war bonus based on rank, length of service and colonial origins. Black Africans soldiers were paid up to three times less than their white counterparts. Despite systemic prejudice, many individual British officers feel a deep loyalty to African comrades and raise funds through regimental associations and the Royal Commonwealth Ex-Services League. In 2018, the British government also announced a £12million package to help penniless veterans and war widows from Commonwealth nations. Khosa, like many others, never escaped poverty. After the war, he found work at a game reserve and as a mechanic. In old age, he had to farm to survive. But he never lost hope that his military service would count for something. “British and ourself, we suffered together,” said Khosa in an interview last year. “After when we come back, I will never have forgotten you and you will have never forgotten me because we suffered together.”