Life Under Fire

by Jason Fox

  As part of the Prelims, we discussed the Ground. This was an insight into the area we were moving into and the buildings or terrain we were likely to encounter. The hostage is being held in a heavily protected compound in the middle of a small village on the edge of the mountains.

  Situation: Detail on the enemy forces in the area, the assets at their disposal and the kind of resistance we could expect to face. The enemy are a highly motivated group and well armed. They tend to defend aggressively. Expect strong resistance. Our available resources were also detailed, such as the number of supporting troops involved in the mission and any air assets we could call upon.

  Mission: The objective of the job was spelled out in plain and simple terms. The mission tonight is to rescue the hostage. For clarity, the objective was then repeated to the group. The mission tonight is to rescue the hostage.

  Execution: The basic plan. During this process, everybody was given instructions of what to do on the ground. The group was split into teams, or units. Each team had a specific task to concentrate on and execute.

  Command and Signals: In short, who’s in charge? How do we communicate? And what code words are in operation? For example: Jackpot = Job done.

  On paper, this probably appears to be an overwhelming process. Certainly, for the operators involved these mission-planning sessions could last for up to three hours, but I was always far happier tackling a dangerous mission having been forewarned with exhaustive instructions. The alternative was to be blindsided by an unexpected event when working on the ground.

  What’s great about the British military’s mission-planning process is that it can be applied to any project that requires physical and mental fortitude. To illustrate this, I’ll frame the process through the lens of our aforementioned mountain trek. For the purposes of a non-military mission, where it’s probably not important to have a contingency plan in case of an enemy attack during the Prelims, I’ve tweaked the structure ever so slightly.

  MOUNT KILIMANJARO EXPEDITION

  Prelims: What’s the situation? ‘I need to challenge myself mentally and physically. I thrive outdoors and I want to raise money for a cause that’s close to my heart. I have plenty of holiday time coming up, so I’m organizing a group trip to climb Mount Kilimanjaro for charity.’

  Ground: The trek will take five to nine days to complete. It’s a ‘walk-up’ mountain so no technical climbing skills will be required, but the summit is 5,895 metres high so altitude will be a factor.

  Situation: Be ready for altitude sickness – headaches, nausea, shortness of breath and fatigue. The walk is set to be a physical challenge. Mentally, there will be periods of fear and self-doubt.

  Mission: Spell it out in plain and simple terms. The mission is to summit Mount Kilimanjaro for charity. Then repeat. The mission is to summit Mount Kilimanjaro for charity.

  Execution: The basic plan for climbing Mount Kilimanjaro: the trekking schedule and miles walked per day; meals and accommodation details; required equipment. Always consider your What ifs. Assign roles should something go wrong, such as an injury on the mountain.

  Command and Signals: This should include details on the expedition company, the guides leading the group and their support staff. Contact details for everyone on the trip should be consolidated on to one WhatsApp group for smoother communications. Emergency numbers should be distributed in case of a What if event.

  When placed in a non-military context, this process seems fairly straightforward. Utilizing this style of battle order will help you through your next challenge. For example, if you’re planning to open up a new company, use a mission plan to figure out the final idea, ideal office location, potential obstacles, financial infrastructure, legal requirements and how to communicate your new idea to the market. The alternative is to be unprepared, which is never an ideal spot to be in, either in or out of war.

  It’s important to point out that during my time with the military, dangerous missions took place at short notice all the time – which was where that ripped-open cigarette packet sometimes came in handy – but we were never dispatched on one without some explanation as to why we were about to risk our lives; the ultimate objectives were always stated to the group involved, no matter how quickly we had to execute them. Our goal and relevant motives for an assault were always shouted out prior to us landing on an enemy compound or seeking out a high-profile target in a hard arrest. For example:

  #1 ‘We’re seeking Target X because he’s an IED facilitator responsible for a number of suicide bombs that have been set off in the area.’

  #2 ‘We’re walking on to Area X because we believe there’s a weapons stockpile hidden there.’

  Details of this kind helped to bring clarity and resilience to an operator as they worked under pressure. When the shooting started, it always helped to have a clear idea of the job that we were working on and how it fed into the overall goals of the British military. Having left the Special Forces it’s a trick I’ve since used in all sorts of tasks.

  I’m doing this honking run because I need to stay expedition-fit.

  I’m going into this meeting because it might create a business opportunity for me down the line.

  That’s not to say my resolve isn’t occasionally challenged when working through a mission plan, but with a clear understanding of the whats, whys and hows of a mission, I can prepare for those tricky events more effectively, with a sharper focus. The dark thoughts and low moments pass by easily.

  IN MISSION PLANNING, INTEL IS EVERYTHING

  In war, the success of every mission hinges on intelligence – the information regarding each and every aspect of an operation, which may or may not include location, the enemy on the ground, their capabilities, any assets at their disposal, the presence of a person of interest, our best time to attack, weather conditions, and so on. Prior to any job, it was the role of the squadron to gather together as much knowledge as possible in order to build a 360-degree picture of the challenges ahead. And it’s vital to do the same in any project requiring a modicum of resilience.

  Generally, military intelligence was categorized in three ways:

  Human intelligence: information gathered by chatting to locals in a hostile area, from eyewitness accounts or from informants.

  Airborne intelligence: knowledge obtained through drones, spy planes or assets patrolling over an area of interest.

  Signal intelligence: the dark arts of spying, such as wiretaps, hacking or other cyber weapons.

  #1 Human Intelligence

  There were a number of times as an operator where I was required to enter enemy territory in order to meet with a contact or snitch. These sources were known as human intelligence – people who for one reason or another had decided to help the British military, and whose role was to provide updates on any individuals or places of interest. Human intelligence is the oldest method of collecting information, and until the technical revolution of the mid to late twentieth century, it was the primary source of intelligence.

  Human intelligence is vital to anyone embarking on a challenge or life-event. In order to detail how intelligence-gathering works and how it can be applied to a non-military operation, I’ll use the example of a family who are planning to relocate to another country. This can be an incredibly stressful and time-consuming effort; all sorts of hoops have to be jumped through and human intelligence is essential. For starters, it’s always smart to appoint an immigration lawyer with a good reputation. It also helps to contact people who have experienced moving from one country to another in order to build a picture of what to expect and how best to prepare for the challenges ahead. These might sound like basic suggestions, but you’d be surprised at the number of people who fail to do their homework. They apply for an unsuitable visa, fail to understand the cultural differences when buying a house abroad, and misjudge the amount of time a procedure of this kind requires. It’s easy to be crushed by the process as a result, but some serious bother can be saved with even t
he most basic level of intelligence-gathering. As the Special Forces teaches everybody: to be an elite soldier it’s important to execute the basics very, very well.

  #2 Airborne Intelligence

  A huge amount of modern warfare is conducted from the air. Drones are used in airspaces all over the world to track enemy forces and criminals (it’s not only in the theatre of conflict that they’re utilized to gain the upper hand) and I often worked with air assets on a military tour. With their help, it was possible to build up a picture of how an enemy target operated, from a safe distance. Most days I would watch hostile figures going about their day-to-day business, unaware they were being spied upon by eyes far above them. We were able to watch and understand their activities, allowing us to plan our next course of action. As with any observation post, every movement by the target was noted down in a factual manner; there was no room for speculation or guesswork.

  At this point you might be wondering, How does aerial intelligence help somebody to emigrate? Or, What the bloody hell has this got to do with my plans to run a marathon? But think of aerial intelligence as visual detail. Sure, you’re running a long-distance race, but what does that event look like? All races are different. The London Marathon, for example, is a relatively flat course. But New York is a slow climb; there are several bridges to deal with, too, and the last couple of miles take place over the undulating terrain of Central Park. It helps to be forewarned of those particular challenges. Likewise our hypothetical move abroad: what will our new lifestyle look like? It’s all very well having an idyllic image in our heads, but the reality will probably be very different, so a reconnaissance mission should be conducted. Building a clear sense of how the experience actually appears, and what challenges it might bring, is vital when hoping to avoid any nasty shocks on the ground.

  #3 Signal Intelligence

  The nature of signal intelligence-gathering is almost unrecognizable from when I first started life as a Royal Marines Commando. These days, email accounts are hacked from remote sources, viruses are planted into online comms systems and information is extracted remotely. That’s beyond my remit. I merely relied on the signal intelligence that was gathered by foraging techniques, so I couldn’t tell you exactly how the gathering process worked or when it was utilized (nor would I want to, because the Ministry of Defence would have my balls in a vice). What I can tell you is that signal intelligence was incredibly useful, especially when trying to build a picture of how the enemy was operating.

  Technology is now a part of everyone’s life – it’s not only the British military that get to build a picture of their forthcoming challenges through smartphones and online assets. We all have the ability to research and learn from the resources at our fingertips. Someone suffering from a serious illness can search the internet for the best method of self-care or look into online counselling. The novice Ironman Triathlon athlete can read about the experiences of competitors who have previously taken part in the event. From there they can understand the value of race management, rehydration, energy gels and why it’s important to shove an Imodium tablet into their pocket before leaving home. (Spoiler: to avoid an uncomfortable episode of diarrhoea halfway round.) For just about every gruelling experience in life, someone has now either blogged about it, produced a podcast on the subject or written an Instagram post. It makes sense to tap into that intel.

  MISSION PLANNING AND EMOTIONAL CHAOS

  Negative emotions have the potential to overwhelm us during any mission. It might be that we’re preparing to do something unpleasant in our work life, such as firing a colleague we feel close to. A house move will require us to say goodbye to some close friends and neighbours. In other cases, there may be an event looming on the horizon that taps into our greatest fears, like a physical challenge involving heights or speed, or a requirement to speak in front of hundreds of people or motivate a room full of strangers.

  We may have to ready ourselves for events when we can expect to feel physical pain: physiotherapy or root canal surgery are good examples. Elsewhere, we may become angry, sad or scared, or feel guilty or stressed depending on the situation we’re going through. But we can prepare for all these moments by adjusting for negative thought within the mission plan, predicting our reactions and then compartmentalizing our fears for when they actually arrive, worrying about them only if we need to.

  Whenever I was going into a dust-up within the military, I always prepared myself psychologically by briefly running through some of the things I could expect to see along the way.

  Right, we’re going into a badass place, I’d tell myself. We’re probably going to have to kill a few people. I’m going to see some fucked-up stuff and there’s likely to be a lot of explosions and other crazy shit.

  The process readied me, but I didn’t dwell on it – as I’ve stated before, there’s no point frazzling our adrenal systems by fretting over the many What ifs in life. Sure enough, when explosions, shootings and ‘fucked-up stuff’ happened, I wasn’t completely unsettled. Mentally, I was already prepared.

  I’ve since used that mission-planning technique in my civilian work. When working on the TV show Meet the Drug Lords: Inside the Real Narcos I was thrown into a series of sketchy situations, some of which could have upended me emotionally, had I not been primed. At one point, I went into a barrio in Colombia to meet a couple of narco dudes who were known to be incredibly dangerous. The area was lawless. I’d been told that it was a total no-go location and that undercover police were unable to work there, such was its notoriety. The buildings were shacks set on stilts, and armed gangs lurked on street corners. Even during daylight, the barrio had an unnerving vibe. Bad things happened there.

  We hadn’t helped ourselves, dressing in tabards like non-governmental-organization workers, and from the minute we arrived for our meeting the locals pointed and stared. Lads made gun signs and pretended to shoot us – clearly we weren’t being welcomed with open arms. (All of us were equipped with hidden cameras; had they been discovered we definitely would have been executed.) When the news came through that our meeting had been delayed, we had to hide out in a shack. I told the cameraman to stand away from the window because there was every chance somebody might decide to open fire on our position. But I was able to stay calm because I’d briefly readied myself for what we could expect on the ground. As I had done before most military operations, I’d assessed the situation and its potential for danger during a mission plan. I’m going into a scary place, unarmed. There will be people with guns who will hate us being there, and they will try to intimidate the group. And there is every chance it could kick off and we might have to run for it. By the time our interview eventually took place, I felt emotionally steady – well, as steady as a person can be when a mob of heavily armed cartel capos have entered the room.

  That kind of stress hits me in non-violent situations, too. I’ve often given talks to corporate groups wanting to learn from my experiences in conflict. After all, knowing how to manage stress in a high-pressure situation is a valuable tool in any industry. (A technique for managing stressful situations such as public speaking is detailed later on in this chapter.) I usually feel fairly confident in my delivery, having now done hundreds of presentations, but last year I was asked to record a podcast in front of a live studio audience in a London pub. The idea unsettled me a little. I’d fronted podcasts before, recording a series of interviews with people who had shown resilience in challenging situations. However, for the live event, I was asked to interview the bushcraft, mountaineering and climbing guide Megan Hine. Alongside her was James Ketchell, who had previously made his name by completing the Ultimate Triathlon, in which he’d rowed the Atlantic alone, climbed Mount Everest and cycled around the world. The podcast should have been fun, but while I was mission-planning it I realized I was unfamiliar with some of the challenges associated with interviewing people in front of an audience.

  In the end, I leaned in to the same tactics that had previously he
lped me in war. I performed some intel-gathering, chatting to a few mates who had presented in a similar setting and speaking to the podcast’s producer about what to expect while conducting an interview in a crowded room. Once in the pub, I checked out where I would be sitting, who I would be presenting to and how best to project myself in such a busy environment.

  As I became more comfortable with the operation, it helped to visualize some of the trickier challenges ahead. Nerves were inevitable at the beginning, as they were for every talk I’d given. But I also knew that it was fairly easy to settle into the rhythm of interviewing a stranger. I had a printout of questions with me, but I wanted the conversation between Megan, James and myself to feel natural so I kept them out of sight with the intention of only using them if the talking dried up. In a way, this was the Ground section of a mission plan – an insight into the area we were moving into and the buildings or terrain we were likely to encounter.

  I then focused on the Situation – detail on the enemy forces in the area, the assets at their disposal and the kind of resistance we could expect to face. There was a live audience. Would I get heckled if I messed up? Could I hold their attention? To put myself at ease, I remembered the faces staring back at me at the beginning of every talk: after a while they usually transformed into an unmemorable, shapeless blur. (No offence if you’ve attended any of my presentations.) The same would happen again. I’d be able to talk, draw some cracking stories from two very interesting interviewees, and have a good time. By acknowledging the upcoming challenges in my mission plan, I was able to work with a positive attitude, confident I’d prepared for every psychological obstacle ahead.