During my time in the military and on the circuit, there was nobody to speak to, no outlet for any negative thoughts. Even if there had been anybody to speak to, I don’t think I would have taken the opportunity. When my mum came to Australia and I was in a bit of a mess, she could see that I was having problems, but I didn’t want to go into them in any kind of detail.
Until fairly recently, a common view was that if a soldier was showing signs of mental illness, he was weak. A soldier is a pawn, and a soldier who doesn’t put on a brave face and admits to having problems can be swept from the board, just like what happened to Foxy. No one wants to put their hand up and say they’re weak. So I was programmed not to admit to anything, or even feel the need to. And if anyone else did, I’m sorry to say they had the piss taken out of them and it was turned into a joke. But if you don’t share your problems, all those traumatic experiences build up in your brain. And the brain is like a pressure cooker, so that eventually the trauma starts leaking. It makes so much more sense to release that pressure of your own accord.
PTSD is not the preserve of the military. Someone can suffer PTSD after being raped, getting knocked over by a car, almost drowning, or a million and one other occurrences. I know that I suffered trauma as a child, because I can’t really remember much other than the trauma. Not only was I attacked by a chimpanzee, hospitalised with gangrene, run over twice, in trouble with the law and sent to a remand home, I had a difficult relationship with my father. Taken as individual episodes, they might not sound like much. But individual episodes pile up until they’re touching the ceiling and ready to break through.
But it’s my belief that the term PTSD has become too generalised. Of course it exists, but it is quite specific. A lot of the suffering that veterans go through is caused by the loss of brotherhood. A soldier suddenly without his mates is like an animal suddenly separated from its pack. You take that camaraderie for granted, which breeds complacency. You no longer have that support network, you’re weakened and vulnerable. One minute you were a fighting machine and suddenly you’re not, and you don’t even know why you’re getting out of bed in the morning. That’s when the problems start.
Unless you find a new purpose quickly, you start spiralling downwards. A lot of soldiers think that the grass will be greener on the other side and that they’ll be fighting employers off in Civvy Street. But just because you were part of one of the finest fighting forces in the world doesn’t mean people in civilian life will realise what you have to offer. Discipline and loyalty are massive assets, but so many companies fail to see it, while the veterans themselves seem to take those qualities for granted and think they’re nothing special. To compound the problem, many soldiers lack confidence. They’re not used to talking about their abilities, because in the military, they’re not going to get a reaction. They’re too humble for their own good. Some sit back and think, ‘Surely someone will recognise what I’ve got to offer eventually.’ They wait and wait and wait and their phone never rings. Lack of confidence and complacency are a destructive marriage.
People, including potential employers, don’t care that they served their country. They don’t even know where or why our military are serving. And it’s very difficult to explain to people who have no basic understanding. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t want anyone to know I was in the military. I couldn’t be doing with the small talk and stupid questions. Other people who do have a basic understanding think you’ve got a screw loose for wanting to be a soldier. So veterans end up thinking their service was pointless. Before they know it, they start to lose belief. And eventually, they feel entirely worthless.
That’s why a lot of veterans end up on the street. They get depressed and self-medicate by hitting the drink and drugs. It’s the transition itself that’s traumatic, not necessarily anything you experienced while serving. Many soldiers return from military life with nothing more than a few dents in their armour. But soon that armour is rusting away and falling to pieces.
20
IRON LADIES
In 2018, the British Government announced that all roles in the military would be open to women, including those in the Special Forces. My immediate thought when I heard this was, ‘If the UK Special Forces are so good at what they do, why would they risk changing that dynamic?’
The government’s decision was obviously based on basic principles of gender equality. Quite rightly, if a woman wants to do a certain job, and demonstrates that she has the necessary attributes to do that job, then she should be allowed to do it. But I think the subject of women doing frontline soldiering is thornier than that. Fighting a war isn’t really a job, it’s a matter of life and death. And a warzone doesn’t take societal norms into consideration.
If people assume that a mixed male and female Special Forces team is going to work the same as an all-male team, they’re delusional. I don’t subscribe to the view that men and women are the same, just as I don’t see any problems in men and women being different. When a woman walks into a room full of men, it changes the group dynamic. I’m sure there are people out there who will say, ‘If that’s the case, then the men need to modify their behaviour.’ Well, at least as it stands, people aren’t selected for the Special Forces based on their political correctness and progressive views on gender equality, they’re selected because they’re the toughest soldiers in the country.
Men behave differently when women are around. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m quite gentlemanly around women. That’s what society demanded I should be, or at least used to. I open doors and stand up on trains when a woman gets on and there’s no seat. When I was growing up, that was just being respectful. And it’s natural for men to be more protective of the opposite sex. That’s the result of thousands of years of social programming. I’m not sure that’s suddenly going to change if you have women fighting on the frontline. And if the changing of that dynamic affects people’s ability to operate properly, that might mean people being killed who otherwise wouldn’t be.
There are a lot of small details that I don’t think have been considered. A lot of decompression involves hanging out with the lads in your dorm. Would women have to have separate sleeping quarters, with their own toilet facility? Has anyone considered how mixed teams might affect relationships? One minute you’re off on a six-month tour with Gary and Trev, the next you’re off on a six-month tour with Cindy and Kate. Military relationships are strained enough without girlfriends and wives worrying if their partners are having an affair with a workmate. And while relationships in the workplace are common nowadays, relationships on a frontline would be a different kettle of fish.
In series four of SAS: Who Dares Wins, we decided to pose the question: do women have the minerals to be considered for Special Forces Selection? We had an equal mix of men and women, and I’ll happily admit the female recruits surprised me. Some of them were stronger, mentally and physically, than some of the men. And it was a question a lot of the public clearly wanted to see the answer to, because the ratings went through the roof.
I imagine there were a lot of men tuning in to see the women fall flat on their faces. But I hope there were a lot more men and women tuning in to see them defy expectations. The experiment proved to any boys and men watching at home that there are women out there who are infinitely tougher than them and have what it takes to do a job in the military. That’s a positive message. Channel 4 desperately wanted a woman to be victorious, and that’s how it turned out, with Lou McCullough one of only three recruits to make it to the end. But while I now know that there are women out there capable of getting on the start line of Special Forces Selection, I still have misgivings concerning the group dynamics.
At the end of the series, two of the recruits were seeing each other. Imagine that happening for real in a combat zone: you’re running into contact, you’ve got Cindy to your right, Trev to your left and both go down. If you’re in a relationship with Cindy, you’re not going to think rationally. You’re going
to try to save her, regardless of whether that’s the correct decision. In war, you shouldn’t have to juggle with theoretical questions concerning what is or isn’t politically correct, not when you’re dealing with bombs, bullets and carnage.
On SAS: Who Dares Wins, we often ask the recruits who the weakest member of the group is. We need to know who’s being rejected, because we can’t see everything. Some people say they can’t do it, but they have to. It’s about being able to subdue your emotions and not let them get in the way of the facts. Your friend might be a great drinking buddy and buy you nice birthday presents, but they might be shit at their job. So you have to be able to push friendships to the side, because that person you hate might be better for the collective. In a warzone, that person you hate might save your life. If you throw women into the mix in a warzone, there won’t just be friendships, there will be romantic relationships. And that’s when things might end up skewed.
So it’s not as easy as saying, ‘Yeah, let’s just do it.’ It needs to be well received at the other end. And the reason I don’t think it would be universally popular with male soldiers is because while they’re trying to integrate women, lives could be at risk. That’s not an argument some people want to hear, but I couldn’t care less. If equality of opportunity has an adverse effect on quality of outcome, then you have a problem. Any changes that are made to an organisation have to improve things, otherwise you’re just playing politics. The key question is, would the integration of women make the Special Forces a more effective fighting force? To be perfectly honest, I don’t think it would. I’m not saying allfemale teams wouldn’t work, but until the day that there are enough women to create all-female teams, I’m not sure it’s viable.
I think wanting to get one over the men gave the women an extra boost, but I also think the men were spurred on by not wanting to be beaten by a woman. You could see the frustration and annoyance in male recruits’ faces when they dropped out while there were women remaining. That goes right back to the playground, when being beaten by a girl at anything physical is considered a joke. As pathetic as it is, that attitude stays with a lot of males into adulthood. But that competition between the sexes also produced negative results. Because the women were desperate to prove the men wrong, and the men were terrified of losing face, people were scared of showing any weaknesses and egos were inflated. And as I’ve already explained, inflated egos are a problem in the Special Forces.
There was also the notorious boxing match between a man and a woman, which caused a bit of a stir in the press. When recruit Louise picked fellow recruit Nathaniel out for a fight, Ant told Nathaniel not to hold back. And he didn’t, leaving Louise bloodied and bruised. Predictably, some of the tabloids feigned horror, with headlines including: ‘Female Contestant Brutally Battered By Male Rival’. But you can’t have it both ways. You can’t be for equality in the military while wanting women to be given special treatment. That would be patronising to women and drive down standards.
Ironically, Louise didn’t seem to mind at all, while Nathaniel hated the fact he’d beaten her up. But equality of treatment would be thornier in reality. Can you imagine three men stripping a woman naked during Selection interrogation, as happened to me? Would anyone seriously do that? But that’s exactly what they should do, because if a woman got captured behind enemy lines, there is a chance her captors would do more than just strip her.
Similarly, everyone carried the same weight, but you can tell yourself you’re going to treat them all the same until you’re blue in the face, the reality is rather different. For someone like me, who idolises his mother, it’s very difficult to give a woman a proper bollocking, point out their deficiencies and call them horrible names. It’s just not in my nature. During the series, I was also more inclined to encourage the women. There was a recruit called Nadine, who I stuck with for a day, giving her as much encouragement as possible. I didn’t mean to patronise her, that was me simply being nicer to a woman than I would be to a man. People will no doubt say, ‘That’s your problem, not theirs.’ But that’s just how a lot of men are wired, and if you translate that into a Special Forces situation, that’s not a good dynamic.
In a way, the DS on the show are a surrogate enemy, just the same as they are in Special Forces Selection. I watch the show back and sometimes think, ‘Jesus, I didn’t realise I was that nasty.’ But the other lads call me Corporal Cuddles, because they think I’m too compassionate and quick to praise them – especially Billy, who scares the recruits shitless.
I found the chats with women in the Mirror Room particularly difficult. When Nadine told us that she’d been sexually assaulted and had a terrible time with men in general, I didn’t know what to do. When a woman starts crying, my natural reaction is to put my arm around them and tell them everything is going to be OK. But I would never do that with a male recruit. Once we got them all together, we could really cut loose. But when it was one-on-one with a woman, I found it very hard to do.
Once again, that’s problematic, because it’s not like we’re horrible for no reason. Turning civilians into soldiers takes a series of short, sharp shocks because it’s such a steep learning curve. That’s why you have the stereotype of the bullying sergeant major, constantly shouting at his men. Imagine commanding a non-motivated team in war, conscripts who can’t even function on Civvy Street. I can’t even comprehend that, it’s an almost impossible task. If you hammer them into shape fast, there’s an outside chance they’ll pick up their game and fight when the bullets start flying. But even if you do, it’s far more likely that they’ll freeze instead, which must have happened on many occasions.
Whether Lou, Milo or the other winner of series four, Mark Peart, have what it takes to do a job in the Special Forces is another matter entirely (although I’m sometimes asked which squadron the winners are now serving in!). I’d like to be able to say that anyone who is still standing at the end of the show has it in them to pass Selection. But all I can say with any certainty is that they show the necessary qualities. To pass Selection, you must have a military career in the first place. And you can fail Selection on so many different things. You might get injured, you might have problems at home, you might even be accused of punching a farmer. The Selection process is far more long-winded and complicated than SAS: Who Dares Wins, and a lot more can go wrong in seven months than eight days.
But while I have no doubt that there are women in the UK who are physically and mentally capable of passing Selection, I’m not sure there are many women out there thinking, ‘I want a piece of the action in Special Forces.’ People only think about the glory and the glamour and the patriotism. But the reality of Special Forces is hiding in an observation post, watching a target for days on end and shitting in a zip-lock bag in front of your mates. It’s travelling to a foreign land, not seeing your friends and family for months on end and killing strangers. It’s seeing your mates get shot and blown up.
That’s why I’m not a fan of some of the new military adverts, which make life on the frontline seem rather cosy: there are people making each other cups of tea, people praying on their mat in the middle of combat. Don’t get me wrong, soldiers are nice to each other. But the adverts don’t mention that you might see mutilated bodies hanging from trees. It’s false advertising, almost tricking people. Next thing you know, they’ll bring out an advert that shows soldiers breaking off from a fire fight to have a group hug. If only that was the case. But the truth is, war really isn’t much to write home about.
SAS: Who Dares Wins entered more uncharted territory when we invited celebrities to have a taste of Special Forces Selection. When we got them off the boat, they still had their hoods on. But even when they took their hoods off, I didn’t know who any of them were. That’s more a reflection of me than their level of fame, because I don’t really watch TV or follow sport. I said to Foxy, ‘Who the fuck are these people?’ Luckily, Foxy does watch a bit of TV and loves his sport. And I had to do plenty of research on them
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I thought the celebrity version would be a bit fluffy. I worried about their motivation, because they were already famous. And I suspected that as soon as they hit a bit of hardship, they’d chuck in the towel. Obviously, it wasn’t difficult to find out about their past online, and there were plenty of tears in the Mirror Room. And interrogation cracked a few of them. But some of them stuck it out, and I really respected them for that, because they didn’t have to.
A few celebrities stood out. Camilla Thurlow was famous for her massive social media following and finishing second on Love Island a couple of years ago. In short, she’s not the kind of person you’d expect to do well on SAS: Who Dares Wins. But she defied expectations. I shouldn’t have been that surprised. Camilla is a former humanitarian worker who has actually done a lot of good with her celebrity, including making a documentary highlighting the plight of landmine victims in Cambodia. And a lot of celebrities possess one of the key Special Forces ingredients: resilience. Because you have to be resilient to stay relevant and deal with being in the public eye.
When Victoria Pendleton’s name came up and I started researching her, I wondered if we were doing the right thing having her on the show. I even received emails, telling me to treat her carefully. Victoria had a great career as a track cyclist, winning untold medals, but had spoken openly about her struggles with mental illness, even telling the press that she’d planned to take her own life after a recent marriage split and a failed attempt to climb Everest. Victoria had a lot to prove, and I was worried that if it went badly for her on the show, it might send her spiralling back into depression. But she did really well and I hope she got a boost from it, just as I hope everyone who appears on the show does.
Break Point Page 19
