Battle Scars

by Jason Fox

  Moving on to target and ready for action.

  Often the enemy would shoot at us from their positions as we flew overhead. Vigilance was important.

  The sun comes up on the desert, another mission completed …

  On the journey back to base I would sit at the back of the Chinook, my gun trained on the sand below, in an emotional state of purpose and meaning.

  With Jamie Sanderson, my partner in the community interest company Rock2Recovery.

  With underwater archaeology expert John de Bry, part of our dive team searching for Captain Kidd’s lost treasure just off the coast of a small island belonging to Madagascar.

  Leaving the harbour in Lagos, Portugal for our 3,800-nautical-mile row across the Atlantic. The water could get a little choppy!

  Being part of the first team to row the Atlantic from east to west unsupported, and the first to row from mainland Europe to mainland South America, was an achievement that probably saved my life.

  Working with Veterans for Wildlife, a charity that combats the activities of rhino poachers. We need to wake up because the rhino is disappearing before our eyes.

  To raise money for the Borne charity – which funds research into the cause of pre-term births – I trekked to the North Pole, where temperatures sometimes dropped to a chilly -40 degrees. Luckily I didn’t get to grapple with a real polar bear.

  From left to right: my new brotherhood – the Who Dares Wins team, Matthew ‘Ollie’ Ollerton, Mark Billingham and Ant Middleton.

  Sometimes leadership requires examples. Here I am fast-roping down the face of a reservoir in the Atlas Mountains, Morocco.

  Going behind the scenes at a cocaine lab for the 2018 Channel 4 show Meet the Drug Lords: Inside the Real Narcos.

  Appendix

  A Rock to Recovery

  I finished writing this book knowing I wasn’t alone – that my mates were there to support me through troubling times, no matter what I was going through. I’ve also come to understand that my story, sadly, is far from unique and that there are just too many people out there like me. Their circumstances might be wildly different – the symptoms of mental health manifest themselves in a variety of ways – but at their core, the issues of PTSD, anxiety, depression, addiction and stress all carry the same stigma, especially for blokes. Mental health is an issue that most men struggle to open up about through embarrassment, a false sense of pride and machismo. But keeping quiet is dangerous, as I discovered to my cost. Others haven’t been as lucky as me. Please don’t let that be you.

  If reading this book has rung an alarm bell or two regarding your own state of mind, there is help at hand – people you can call, organizations to help you and methods and techniques that will assist your long yomp out of what can feel like a waking nightmare. A lot of the time, the solutions aren’t solely found in a bottle of antidepressants, though clinical treatment can help. Jamie Sanderson and I often encourage the people visiting our Rock2Recovery clinics to try complementary methods of therapy – these include one-to-one coaching and intervention work, carried out with a qualified practitioner, someone our clients can connect with and relate to as they construct a new life. This work can be reinforced with exercise, therapeutic projects, challenge and creativity. These outlets often draw a person away from their darkest thoughts.

  What follows here is Jamie’s personal story of recovery from PTSD, plus the lessons Rock2Recovery have learned when treating the mentally injured. No two cases are the same, and no escape routes are identical. But the first step is always to pause and then open up about the problem. Once that’s happened, the next step becomes much clearer.

  Music, Mountain, Water: Jamie’s Story

  Foxy and I were sitting at a pub table, staring at one another, our conversation darkened by talk of suicide.

  We’d both hit rock bottom, the pair of us discussing the ending of it all as if that was the inevitable conclusion to our military careers. You already know about Foxy’s issues. Mine began when I was a Royal Marine Commando sniper, my mind ravaged by war and a lifetime of stress, my body battered following a scrap in Afghanistan where I fell from a roof. I returned home from that tour in 2007 and broke apart shortly afterwards; my head became fuzzy, my thinking muddled. Nobody seemed to know whether my symptoms had a physical or emotional source back then.

  And I suffered, big time.

  Six months later, after a period of physical rehab, I went on a promotion course with the Marines, where the pressure to succeed was high, and I lost my memory. It was so weird. Everything seemed to be beyond me, even the basics of my military work, stuff I used to be able to do in my sleep. I was unable to deal with the simplest disciplines of being a sniper, even though it had been my life for the best part of eighteen years. And I was good at my job, too. The role of a Royal Marine Commando sniper is highly skilled; the training had been intense. But with all that experience, I couldn’t even read a map during my final weeks of full-time work. I wasn’t able to find my way across a military base that had been a second home for much of my career. When my sergeant major discovered me wandering across the site, hopelessly lost, he took me to the doctor, where I was eventually diagnosed with PTSD.

  It took eight months of waiting helplessly before somebody was able to treat me – there was no intermediate work in the meantime, no intervention and no valuable coaching. I was cut adrift, without the knowledge that I could have sought out extra help, because mental-health issues were all new to me. As Foxy has explained, they were new to the Royal Navy too during that period, when stress cases from the wars in Afghan and Iraq were only just beginning to flash up on their radar. Besides, ‘crazy’ was the kind of thing that happened to other people, not to a professional sniper. Breakdowns struck Lottery winners who had blown all their money and ended up broke, not disciplined warriors like myself. Depression knocked people who weren’t tough enough to handle real life, and in becoming a Marine Commando I’d already passed one of the toughest training tests the military could throw at me. But that was all crap. Mental-health issues had taken me down too.

  Over four years, the Navy provided me with a programme of clinical healthcare in line with that offered by the NHS, and I was put on meds until, eventually, the therapy sessions became destabilizing events in their own right. Reliving my terrifying experiences during Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing therapy, and Cognitive Behavioural Therapy caused me to fear the next appointment. In the days after each meeting I was often racked by depression, and when I finally informed my nurse that I was unable to handle her techniques, she closed the file on me abruptly.

  ‘There’s nothing else to try,’ she said. ‘I’ll recommend that you go to the medical board and you’ll be discharged.’

  The parting advice from my superiors was even more chilling. I was told I’d have to figure out a way to handle my problems for myself. Apparently there was nothing that could be done for me. I was screwed. Alone.

  And that was when I first started talking to Foxy about my situation. He had experienced a hellish time of it too, and together we created a mutual support network. Whenever he was struggling and questioning his worth in life, he would call me for help. I’d already experienced an attempted suicide of my own – luckily I messed it up – but whenever my dark thoughts returned, I’d ring him for assistance. Together we were creating mental sticking plasters for ourselves, usually through endorphin-raising physical activity or something creative and mentally stimulating. Foxy was working with his therapist, and the mental-health coach Malcolm Williams (as was I), while branching out into TV work and a series of impressive physical challenges. I began writing music and later climbed Mount Kilimanjaro.

  Meanwhile, lads from all walks of military life contacted us, because we were well known as senior figures within the Marines and beyond. They started asking us for advice about what they could do to dig themselves out of a mental fix. Most of the time, we encouraged them to see Malcolm. And as we began to rebuild our own lives
, the pair of us understood – even in our frazzled states – that we could be a force for change. We established clinics and arranged meetings under the banner of Rock2Recovery. Our aim? To give troubled people some of the tools that had never been presented to us during our clinical treatment. We told them what had saved our lives: talking to an expert was vital; exercising was key, too. And working towards a challenge and finding a creative outlet were great ways of calming down a mind in chaos.

  As Rock2Recovery began to grow in stature, we were contacted by a group of scientists from Oxford University. They’d been working on the theory that the brain needs a support system to heal itself after a distressing incident, in pretty much the same way as a broken limb has a plaster cast. According to their research, mental trauma required ‘music, mountains and water’ in which to heal. Or, in other words, creativity, activity and therapy – the very techniques that Foxy and I had been using under our own steam. To our thinking, ‘music, mountains and water’ was the key part of Rock2Recovery’s methodology, which we later developed into a four-point programme entitled, ‘Stop, Talk, Act, Refocus’, or STAR. Sometimes these steps were taken individually, one after the other; on other occasions they might operate concurrently – it varied from person to person. But we found them to be valuable cornerstones when helping others recover from their mental-health problems.

  Stop

  No matter who we are, what we do, or what path our life has taken, we carry mental baggage around with us. Think of that load as a glass of water. The ideal liquid setting would be around the half-full mark, but our depths can change constantly – hourly, daily, weekly, monthly – and drastically. Should the vessel become overloaded – say, with a mental injury – the water level is likely to be near the brim, where adding the smallest of drops can be enough for the glass to overflow, which then throws us into a spin.

  In Foxy’s case, war had topped up his glass. The final spillage began with those endless days on the road working in a job he hated, living with his demons from combat. In situations like that, it’s important we pump the brakes and reduce any immediate or manageable stresses in life: that imminent house move, the plans for a career change, or any other situation that might cause our glass to spill over. Pause. Find some space to breathe. Then plan the next step.

  Talk

  Foxy and I always recommend that a new client first visit their doctor. Why? Well, issues such as depression are sometimes the symptom of a serious medical condition, such as diabetes, and it’s imperative to rule out any underlying physical issues that might be causing a mental-health problem. Often, when a client returns to Rock2Recovery after their first healthcare appointment, it’s with a medical prescription. That’s fine. Pills can help to reduce the symptoms. After that, the most necessary challenge is to tackle the all-important root cause, which is where talking becomes imperative. Finding a therapist who works for you is vital. Think of the process as being like buying a house: everyone requires something different, so look around until you locate someone who makes you feel comfortable. Meanwhile, loved ones – partners, family and friends – are all vital outlets on what will be a journey of self-development, and one that may well last for the rest of your life. Remember the cliché about a problem shared being a problem halved? Well, it’s true. Opening up to the people most important to you is a huge step in managing the issue at hand, and each shoulder to lean upon becomes a pressure valve which can be used to reduce the stress.

  Act

  The biggest factor always in creating change is taking the action required. Go to the doctors and follow their advice, but also consider your options and try alternatives. Finding a person, such as a mentor, who might help someone take responsibility for their mental health and personal development is invaluable, regardless of what label they are given and what treatment plan then follows. Having good thoughts, meditating and relaxation are all things that can be used to get the mind working for a person, not against them, whatever the problem. Don’t settle for the ‘you cannot recover’ attitude.

  There’s also a whole raft of life circumstances to manage on top of the mental health issue itself. These could include coping with family or relationship complications, handling bills, or tackling a breakdown in communication at work. People face different social and economic problems in different parts of the country, and none are likely to be solved in a fifteen-minute appointment with the local GP. This is where a good counsellor or coach can come in: they’ll organize the changes a person needs to make in life. They’ll also give them an idea of the work they can do on themselves when moving forward. Meanwhile, it’s good for a person to involve themselves in the ‘music’ aspect of our three-pronged therapy, the creative processes that distract the mind from stressful chaos. For Foxy, his outlet was located in TV and media work; I learned the guitar and began turning poetry into songs. Shortly afterwards, I had a CD with a bunch of studio-recorded tracks on them, performed by another artist. I was a songwriter. The work proved a rewarding release.

  Refocus

  Once a person has come to understand that they’re on a self-development journey, it’s imperative they reset their goals and ambitions in life – we need to stop living with one foot in the past. Being present and considering the new journey through life is vital. In some ways it’s like starting again but with a different set of software. This isn’t a lowering of bars, or a reduction in expectations – if anything, it’s quite the opposite.

  At this point, a person needs to find an individual, goal or challenge that will motivate them into working through the mental fog that’s clouding their thinking. This is their rock. For some people it might be the person closest to them, a partner or family member. Music became mine. For Foxy, the thought of seeking out new adventures pushed him forward, and when I followed suit and climbed Kilimanjaro, the experience proved enlightening. It was my biggest lesson in life.

  Previously I had been told that my mind was in bits. But after I’d climbed to the top of the world’s tallest freestanding mountain, the guide who had led us to success looked at me and said, ‘Do you realize the one thing that you thought was broken was the only thing that got you here?’ He was right, too. For long periods in my life I feared my head was failing me, that it was leading me to an early grave. But when I’d really needed it, at the climb’s toughest point, my mental strength had helped me to push past fatigue, pain and self-doubt. Altitude had slowed my body, but my mind had thrived. I understood that my thinking was still strong. The realization gives me a lift every single day.

  Finally, no matter what we go through in life, and whatever story we’re told about our situation, ultimately we decide how best to manage the issues facing us. We can give up, sure. We can settle for the ‘it is what it is’ attitude. Or we can use the neuroplasticity our brains possess to redesign and reshape our lives for the better. Striving to become the best version of ourselves is an option available to everyone, so why not keep working towards that goal? That’s a real personal development, no matter what the past may have done to us.

  Positive change is always possible; rethink your thinking.

  Jamie Sanderson

  Rock2Recovery

  London, 2018

  Acknowledgements

  A lot of people have helped to pull me through the low points of my personal story. Even more have been alongside me for the highs. Most of them have been introduced already in the pages of Battle Scars, but some deserve an extra mention. Among them, my therapist Alex Lagaisse, Andy Leach and Debbie Smith at Sodexo, my coach Malcolm Williams and Jamie Sanderson from Rock2Recovery. Mum, Dad, Mat and Jamie have been so important and so supportive of me, and, of course, my other half, Jules, who has been alongside me through some of the biggest changes in my life. Some of those changes were completed with the other lads from SAS: Who Dares Wins and Team Essence. Then there are the others who can’t be named: the fighters from The Brotherhood who gave me the support network and camaraderie I needed to survive in s
ome of the most dangerous places on earth. Finally, the making of this book wouldn’t have happened without the efforts of my agent Charlotte Walker at M&C Saatchi Merlin, Jon Elek at United Agents, my editor Henry Vines, and writer Matt Allen, who helped to turn the black and white of my story into colour (and NVG green).

  Foxy

  London, 2018

  About the Author

  Jason Fox joined the Royal Marine Commandos at sixteen, serving for ten years, after which he passed the gruelling selection process for the Special Forces, serving with the Special Boat Service for over a decade and reaching the rank of sergeant.

  Today you are most likely to find him gracing our television screens and giving us a taste of action and adventure around the world.

  TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS

  61–63 Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA

  www.penguin.co.uk

  Transworld is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com

  First published in Great Britain in 2018 by Bantam Press

  an imprint of Transworld Publishers

  Copyright © Jason Fox Consulting Limited 2018

  Front cover portrait © Robert Wilson; background photographs © Getty Images and Alamy

  Jason Fox has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.