Former Soldier's Blog

8 January 2012

Here in Camp Bastion the office has now returned to normal, the tinsel is finally gone and I no longer have to endure the constant drone of Christmas tunes blaring through the office…hurray!

Earlier this week I travelled to Forward Operating Base WAHID on the northern edge of Nad-e Ali to meet the Royal Engineers who’d been building a series of Check Points in the local area. The guys from 11 Field Squadron RE have been based in FOB WAHID since they arrived in Afghanistan almost four months ago, and by all accounts they haven’t had chance to draw breath since.

When I arrived SSgt Mark Sturch briefed me on the area and showed me where they had been focusing their efforts. FOB WAHID sits alongside the NEB Canal on the southern Edge of the Nad-e Ali district. Next to the FOB is the bazaar at Loy Manday, a one street market that was at one time the focus of all the trade within the area. Lying in between the FOB and the bazaar is the Loy Manday Wadi that runs from the Dashte in the north to the River Helmand in the south.

I’d been to Loy Manday several years before but in my previous incarnation as a Fire Support Team commander. In June 2009 attached the 3 SCOTS Battlegroup I’d landed south of the bazaar as part of the first phase of OP PANCHAI PALANG. But this time things were a lot different. As we flew into WAHID I tried to orientate myself by peering through the window of the Chinook. But through the Helmand night all I could see was the odd fire and the glow of the occasional moped’s headlight weaving through the compounds. Even as we hovered above FOB WAHID I struggled to recognise where we were. The second time that I’d been to Loy Manday we’d forward mounted from the FOB and pushed south on an operation supporting the Welsh Guards (see my blog entry for 31/08/11). But then the FOB was far less established, now it was a hesco fortress inhabited by Estonians, Americans and UK troops.

The following morning we left the FOB to head down to the checkpoints that had been built as part of OP TORA PANCHAI and OP ZAMESTANI PEEROZI. Locally the concept was to form a ring of steel around the bazaar to form a secure area for the local population to live in. The checkpoints are essentially fortified compounds, the furthest of which were around 1.5Kms from the bazaar in an area known as Mandal Kalay.

The Royal Engineers told me how they tried to build around existing Afghan compounds to ensure that they retained some local features, therefore ensuring that the local security forces would one day be happy to occupy them. SSgt Sturch also told me how they employed local contractors to supply many of the materials needed, boosting local business.

Although British Troops have built the CPs, many of them have now been handed over to Estonian Forces, and in some cases the Afghan security forces are now in place. In one compound I spoke to Sgt Gadsby from 1 PWRR. He had just arrived into the area, his CP was one of the most southerly and it was clear that this was the outer edge of the ring of steel. To the north were secure roads and the bazaar, but to the south there were a series of derelict compounds, which he suspected were riddled with IEDs. Atmospherics also suggested to the south an increased presence of insurgent activity. Later that afternoon as we moved onto another compound we heard small arms fire from the direction of Sgt Gadsby’s compound.

The final stop of the day was a compound that had already been taken over by the Afghan Security Forces; there I met Lt Hamza and his soldiers from the Afghan National Army. He told me (in English) how the region was much safer now and that the Taliban had been driven out of the area. As I set up to film my final piece to camera, the ANA soldiers behind me began an impromptu game of football with the Royal Engineers. After finishing my address to the camera (after dodging several near misses of the ball) I joined them for a kick about. It was a great way to finish an extremely interesting day both on a personal and on a journalistic level.

Many thanks to SSgt Sturch and the soldiers from 1 Troop, 11 Field Squadron RE. They made me feel extremely welcome and always made sure I had a brew when I needed one.

28/12/11

Well Christmas in Helmand is over and what a surreal experience it was too. A fortnight ago I left Britain as it was well and truly in the build up to Christmas. Shops bustling with shoppers, streets covered in over the top lights, with each house trying to out do the other. But when I arrived in Afghanistan I was greeted by sunshine, blue skies, sand storms and the sound of helicopters buzzing above my head. Not exactly in keeping with a traditional British Christmas.

But enter any office or communal building here in Bastion and you’re soon reminded that; to quote Noddy Holder… It’s Christmas!!!! It’s amazing to see the sheer quantity of tinsel and decorations out here in theatre. Cheesy decor complimented with BFBS blasting out a plethora of festive tunes is enough to ensure that no one could possibly forget what time of year it is.

However the Christmas week started on a rather more serious note though. On Tuesday I was on standby to welcome the Prime Minister to Helmand. But due to the adverse weather conditions here in Bastion his flight was diverted to Kandahar. This then meant for the next three days I became an expert on the weather conditions in and around Bastion, and how the dust affected the visibility of pilots. It even at one point threatened to halt some soldiers from getting home for a festive R&R. Luckily however by Thursday evening the weather had improved enough to get everyone home, even if the RAF had to lay on extra flights. Although after speaking to one person in the cookhouse this evening it took some over 30 hrs to get home!!

Christmas day itself was one I’ll never forget. For a start I woke up without a hangover and didn’t touch a drop of booze all-day…odd. The day began by visiting the guard towers that protect Camp Bastion. These huge concrete structures are an austere and cold place at the best of times, but seeing the soldiers on guard on Christmas morning you couldn’t help but feel for them. The Commander Joint Force Support (Afghanistan), Brigadier ‘Mitch’ Mitchell toured the watch towers giving out mince pies and chocolate bars to all of those on duty, a simple act but one that I’m sure will have been very much appreciated. When you’re stood on guard duty (or “Stag” as its better known within the military) you can at times feel isolated and forgotten as you observe your arcs. Imagine the feeling when scanning the horizon on Christmas morning, staring out of a grey concrete tower, dwelling about all the things you’re missing out on. So therefore a mince pie and chat can help take you’re mind off those pangs of homesickness, even if only for a minute or two.

The next event was the much-awaited festive feast that is the traditional Christmas dinner. Here in Bastion Two the cookhouse was catering for over two thousand soldiers, and they’d even laid on live entertainment for the troops. As they scoffed their turkey, sprouts and stuffing they had the pleasure of being entertained by Bastions very own Elvis impersonator! A member of the Sri Lankan catering staff had donned his own Elvis jumpsuit and was performing the Kings hits much to amusement of the troops. Although I’m not sure of how much of an Elvis purist he is, as at one point he did stray into a Cliff Richard medley. Surreal doesn’t come close!

The final part of the day was again a first for me, a charity spinning class on Christmas day. Major Dave Prew the Bastion Quartermaster had organised three festive spinning classes to raise money for the William Rhodes appeal. So far he’s raised over $5000, with over $3000 raised on Christmas day alone. If you would like to add to this total please go to http://thewilliamrhodesappeal.com/ .

19/12/11

It’s been over two years since I was last in Afghanistan, but back then I was here as a soldier, whereas this time I found myself checking into RAF Brize Norton in my finest civilian attire. But whilst I now looked a little different, the experience of travelling out to theatre seemed unchanged. Ok, so there was a new coffee shop in the passenger handling facility and those around me were now wearing the new Multi-Terrain Patterned uniform and not the desert combats that I was used to. But apart from that, things were all very similar.

I arrived at Brize Norton in the usual ungodly hour of the morning, checked my kit in and waited for my flight. As one of the few civvies in the terminal I was surrounded by troops wearily returning to theatre from their two weeks of R&R. Each soldier boasting to the other about the antics they’d got up to on their time away.

We boarded our plane just before first light with the priority of boarding being decided due to rank (I decided to be a Senior NCO this time). The Tri-star planes, which carry our troops to theatre are the workhorses of the RAF and have over the last thirty years ferried thousands of troops all over the world. But to that end they are now prone to being slightly temperamental, and this time was no different.
We soon found ourselves back in the terminal waiting for a fault on the plane to be fixed. Which whilst frustrating, I’d rather they found a fault on the ground than in the air! As most of us had by this time had little sleep, the departure lounge soon became swamped with troops trying to catch forty winks. It never fails to amaze me how soldiers have an uncanny ability to “get their heads down” immediately in any location. There were bodies across seats, under seats, in the aisles and even several “gonking” in the padded children’s play area.

After a twenty-four hour delay we were finally airborne and on our way to Afghanistan. The Tri-stars are equipped very much like any commercial passenger plane, but with one or two modifications to make them more flexible for military use. As we approached Afghanistan the atmosphere in the plane changed and the looks on the faces of its passengers became more focussed as we made our final approach.

Stepping off the plane I was greeted with a familiar feeling and I immediately knew that I was back in Afghanistan. The smell of aircraft fuel combined with the dusty atmosphere is unmistakeable. But as I looked out across Camp Bastion from the steps of the aircraft, I could hardly believe the size of the city that had emerged from the dust. When I was here in 2007 Bastion was just finding its feet, with buildings beginning to be replaced by tents and rumours of a pizza hut arriving. Then by 2009 it had expanded its city limits into the Afghan plains, but now it was incredible. As far as I could see, spotlights and traffic lit up the Afghan night and silhouettes of hundreds of buildings could be seen stretching into the distance.

I awoke on my first day as journalist in Afghanistan to the bright blue skies that I had come to associate with the country. But as my last two trips had been summer tours I wasn’t as used to the temperature, and my walk to the shower in a towel and flip-flops wasn’t as pleasant as I remembered.

31/08/11

The month of August I’ve been told is traditionally a quiet month for BFBS. As the majority of units are on leave over the period it can be a struggle to find stories. Whilst the reporters here are all very keen to get out and about as much as possible, experience has taught to me to be careful of what you wish for. Two years ago when I was in Afghanistan the month of August was also a very quiet one. I was a Fire Support Team commander attached to the 3 SCOTS (The Black Watch) Battle group, during the month we were on standby to support any incidents that occurred during the run up to the countries elections. Not a glamorous role and one that we were not asked to deploy on. But this ended on the 30th August. What follows is my diary entry from the period.

Be careful what you wish for is a phrase that I’ve muttered many times over the last five months and I stand by it now more than ever.

Operation TOR KAT saw A Company insert by Chinook into FOB WAHID last Saturday night (30th Aug). The purpose of the OP was to support the Welsh Guards in the removal of several crossing points along the Shamalan Canal. The canal is the stretch of water that separates the CAT Triangle (northern Nad-e-Ali) from the area of Babaji. We spent Sunday 30th in WAHID conducting battle prep and liaising with the Welsh Guards ahead of deploying into the area.

The basic scheme of manoeuvre was that we would patrol to the west of the canal into the CAT before taking up a blocking role to the west of crossing point 7 allowing the Royal Engineers to deny the crossing to the enemy.

In the early hours of the morning of the 31st we would set off. But first we had a quick swim in the canal and rested. This was also accompanied with Cpl Steele (one of my Mortar Fire Controllers) being involved the most bizarre accidents. Steely was lying under the shade of a HESCO wall when a helmet that was resting on top of the wall was blown off by a gust of wind landing on his face and breaking his nose. So even before we had stepped out of the FOB we had our first casualty. I took the decision to leave Cpl Steele and his broken nose and push Sgt Gus Miller (my senior Mortar Fire Controller) forward with 1 Platoon rather than his usual place in the Company Tac alongside myself and the Company Commander. Whilst Cpl Steele was not happy with the decision, it was the sensible and right decision to make. This twist of fate would become even more poignant as the events of the next twenty-four hours unfolded.

At 0100 on the 31st we set off 1Plt, 3Plt Tac and 2 Plt. The plan was for 2Lt David Parsons and 1 Platoon to lead us down in a company snake and then take up a position of over watch in numbered compound 20 before 3 and 2 platoons formed a block. 1 Platoon would then become the reserve.

The insertion tab went without too many dramas although the constant climbing in and out of drainage ditches and wading through flooded maize fields did wear a little thin. The threat of IEDs and booby-trapped compounds was extremely high as we were pushing into the area that had previously been used by the insurgents to engage crossing point 7. As we approached the objective our progressed slowed as the Valons (metal detectors) took over. 1 Platoon pushed into compound 20 and 3 Platoon to the South. Tac took up position to the East of the objective. Whilst it was a good position for balance of the company our arcs were poor and we immediately realised that we would have to relocate. During our tab into the area the enemy activity had been limited, but by 0700 the intelligence was suggesting that it was beginning to ramp up. We then received intelligence suggesting that an RPG (rocket propelled grenade) attack was imminent. This was shortly followed by the sound of 3 RPGs followed by bursts of small arms fire.

During our tour in Afghanistan we have had many RPGs fired at us with little effect and so therefore we had little cause for concern. At this time I was sat on a rooftop with my FAC (Forward Air Controller) Sgt Ross McBride and the A Company Commander Major Matt Munro. I shouted down to LBdr “Taff” Price (my second in command) to get hold of Gus on the radio and instruct him to try and call mortars in on the firing points, but he got no reply. This immediately struck me as unusual, Gus was usually the first man on the net when we were in a contact, but this time he was silent. There seemed to be little information coming from his compound and I was getting limited information over my personal radio. After five minutes of trying to get a grid reference of the firing points I saw the Doc (Capt Will Charlton) putting on his Bergen, I then heard that 1 Platoon had taken a direct hit from one of the RPGs and that they had taken multiple casualties. Suddenly I realised why Gus wasn’t on the radio. The Doc and his force protection crashed out of the compound and towards the incident. After much frustration I got a firing point grid reference and bring in mortars (I couldn’t see the target so had to rely on information relayed to me over the radio, a risk I had to take).

I was then allocated two Apache Attack Helicopters and as they came into the overhead I was told that we had 2 x KIA, 2 x CAT C and 1 x CAT B casualties. My worst fears were then confirmed when I heard Gus’ ZAP number over the radio as one of those that had been killed. The other was Private Kev Elliot. The surviving casualties were extracted by MERT Chinooks and then the 2 x KIA by American Blackhawks callsign PEDRO.

I broke the news to Ross on the roof of our compound. Taff and Gunner Danny Venter had by this point figured out Gus’ fate but the final member of my team LBdr Willie Ewens was deployed forward with 3 platoon and had to be told by their platoon commander.

It was a surreal morning and I didn’t expect to lose another member of my team and certainly not to an RPG. As the Blackhawks took Gus and Kev’s bodies away we were able to use imagery from a Hermes 450 Unmanned Aerial Vehicle to locate and kill 2 x insurgents close to the firing point, hopefully the RPG team that killed Gus.

As we began to reposition the full details of the incident emerged. Gus and the others had been on the roof of compound 20 when the RPG (fired from approx 250m West) had impacted on the roof. A one in a million shot. Gus and Kev Elliot had taken the majority of the blast with David Parsons in between them amazingly taking almost none. Sgt Eddie Nichol had also been seriously injured but would survive. Gus had sustained a large injury to the back of his neck. He would have died within minutes of the RPG strike. The medics did get to Gus before he died, but he knew that he couldn’t be saved and that he was bleeding out. He instructed them to leave him and help the others who had been injured. An extraordinary act, by an extraordinary man.

After the MERT and the PEDRO callsigns had extracted the casualties we moved forward to gain a better position of over watch. At our new position with 2 Platoon I had clear arcs to the West in the direction of the earlier firing points.

The following day it soon became clear that there had been a change of plan and we were to withdraw back to the crossing point and move back to Wahid in a vehicle move. As we began to formulate our plan we were engaged from the west from a series of firing points. GPMG gunners and Javelin engaged identified targets approximately 300 m away and intelligence suggested that they were grouping together to prepare for an attack on our position. It also became apparent that they knew that we were preparing to withdraw. I called in mortars and adjusted them onto a likely enemy forming up point. Major Munro by this point had pushed back towards the crossing leaving a section of 2 Platoon and my Fire Support Team as the forward line of friendly troops. I received a message over the radio from Major Munro that it was to be a “robust withdrawal”. I called in 5 minutes of mortar fire and began to move. We hurriedly scrambled out of the compound conscious that we were the last to withdraw and it was clear the enemy were keen to get on our tails. I increased the rate of the mortar fire to cover our withdrawal and the last mortars were falling as we approached to the Mastiff vehicles that would take us back to the relative safety of FOB WAHID.

The Battle Damage Assessment and Intelligence we received when we returned to the FOB suggested that my mortar fire had been accurate and the Taliban in the area had suffered significant casualties.

That evening we were extracted back to Kandahar by Chinook support helicopters. As a parting gift the Welsh Guards presented Major Munro with a box of cigars in way of a thank you for the support we had given them and losses we had suffered. Outside the Black Watch accommodation the following day I sat with Major Munro and almost became a casualty myself following the smoking of the gifted cigars. Whilst I had taken up “operational smoking” on the tour, I was clearly not ready to take on Cuba’s finest.

Operation TOR KAT and the cigars that turned me green are mentioned in Toby Harnden's book Dead Men Risen (P474).

18/07/11

It’s now been over a month since I arrived at the BFBS offices all bright eyed, bushy tailed and wet behind the ears after my year in Cardiff. So how has my first month at British Forces News been? How many cups of tea have I had to make and have the established reporters been bullying me? Well thanks to the coffee machine just outside the newsroom the first answer is not many, as for the bullying? Well I’m working on that!!

On Saturday night I re-visited my former life for one night only, attending the Summer Ball of 4th Regiment Royal Artillery in Topcliffe, North Yorkshire. Oh, how I’d forgotten how cheap the drinks are in the Officers Mess (that’s something I do miss). It also gave a great opportunity to bore former colleagues silly with stories of my new career.

Over the last four weeks or so I’ve been assigned a variety of interesting and differing stories to work on. From Gunners preparing to sail across the Atlantic to Royal Marines attending a garden party at Buckingham Palace. I’ve also managed to sneak into the tennis at Wimbledon and the inter service T20 cricket at Lords.

But the most remarkable part of my new job is not the places I visit but the range of incredibly interesting and diverse people I meet along the way. Whether its soldiers overcoming life changing injuries or world war two veterans they all have inspiring stories to tell. The only shame is that due to some pretty tight deadlines that I don’t have the time to speak to them all for as long as I would wish.

01/07/11

Well after nine months of lectures, wearing jeans to work and not shaving. The dream is over, I’m no longer a student.

Over the last few weeks I’ve been busy finishing course work and sitting exams, and of course enjoying my final few nights of cheap student beer. But alas all good things have to end and the course is now over.

But what have I exactly learnt over the last year? Well my cooking has certainly improved and I’ve learnt to fend for myself in the big bad civilian world. Then there’s all the content of the course that I’ve had to take on board, which has not been as simple as I first thought. Turns out it is quite difficult to teach a dog new tricks, but hopefully I’ve just about managed it.

But now for the tricky part, taking what I’ve learnt and hopefully carving out a new career. In the current climate clearly job hunting is somewhat a thorny issue and something that I had not been looking forward to. So imagine my delight when I received a phone call from British Forces News offering me a job!

So here I am now writing my first blog post as a BFBS employee. It’s been a long and sometimes stressful road but I suppose I can now say that my resettlement is over. I left the Army, re-trained and I’ve now found employment.

Not that it was quite as simple as that, there have been times over the last year when I’ve really wondered whether I’d made the right decision. But I always concluded that for me it was the right time to leave the forces and I’ll always look back on my service with great fondness. The support I received during my resettlement was also incredibly important. With advice from the Career Transition Workshops and my local resettlement Officer it made the process a lot less daunting. Then of course throughout the year with the financial support that was available. Without my Resettlement Grant and Enhanced Learning Credits then the last year would have been a lot harder.

06/05/11

It's been far too long since I last contributed to my British Forces News blog and I can only apologise. Recently my student lifestyle has taken a turn for the more serious. Over the last month or so I have been attending my end of course placement (work experience). Leaving me with little time to write an up to date blog post. I hope you can forgive me.

The work placement is a major part of the course and it gives you the opportunity to test out the skills you've acquired throughout the year. But no matter how much you try and polish the concept of working for free, it's essentially work experience. Since leaving the Army I've been on a number of "work placements" in an attempt to gain experience, make contacts and generally get a feel for the industry that I'm wondering into.

But the first time I went on work experience things were a little different. I was encouraged to undertake a weeks work experience prior to sitting my GCSE's. My original plan was to work in a local sports shop, that was until my Business Studies teacher and OC of my Cadet Force got a grip of me. He muttered under his breath how some Colonel owed him a favour, in his usual inaudible manner (if you went to a certain Grammar School in Shropshire you'll know exactly who I'm talking about) and that he would sort me out with a placement with the local Regiment.

There are so many things that make me cringe when I think about the week I spent with the Staffordshire Regiment. Even before I arrived I managed to embarrass myself and show my lack of military potential. From my initial phone call to the Regiment when I asked to speak to 2Lt Bloggs only to be told that I had phoned the Commanding Officer by mistake. Through to tick-tocking into the Adjutants office. Potential Officer Banks never failed to provide amusement to the Subalterns of the Regiment. In fact since then I've bumped into a several of them, and my embarrassing and at times drunken antics are still remembered.

I'm glad to say this last month has not been quite so fraught with embarrassment, although I must confess not entirely without incident. What was very re-assuring was the fact that I enjoyed my time working in a professional newsroom immensely. I was a little concerned that after all the expense and upheaval of re-training that I might not actually enjoy the job, I'm glad to say that this was never the case.

If my work placement has got my looking to future then this weekend will certainly remind me of where I'm coming from. Tomorrow I'll be reminiscing over my former career at Twickenham, at the Army Navy rugby match. One of my fondest (if hazy) memories of my career has been attending the annual event, and I imagine that tomorrow will be no exception. Come on the Army!!

07/03/11

February has passed in the blink of an eye and I can hardly believe that we are already into the second week of March. By the end of this month I'll have been a poor student for six whole months how time flies when you’re living on beans on toast.

The end of the course is now worryingly close and looming ominously over the horizon. Over the last few weeks there seems to have been a real shift in the focus for the course. Previously we were all happy in our exclusive Cardiff student bubble, but now everyone is beginning to shift their attention to their work placements and employment after the course finishes in June.

Over the last few weeks this new focus has meant that for me personally I've been very keen to get out and about as much as possible in an attempt to put my new skills to good practise.

Two weeks ago I travelled to Brecon to cover Ex COLD DRAGON, a live firing Exercise run by 1 ROYAL WELSH. A great day was spent filming and interviewing some of the soldiers, including some of my former colleagues from 40th Regt Royal Artillery. Whilst it was great to go back on exercise for the day and reminisce about my former job, I didn't envy watching the troops tabbing over the Welsh Hills.

I also managed to sneak over to Tidworth to film the arrival of B (Rorke's Drift) Company 2 Royal Welsh back from Afghanistan (I confess I did have to miss a lecture in order to get there in time shocking behaviour). Covering the event was a great experience and a day that taught me a lot about how to deal with the media scrum at this kind of event.

It also gave me a great opportunity to chat to established journalists who were there covering the day for a number of different organisations, including the extremely professional and dedicated Shirley Swain from BFBS.

17/02/11

Over the last few weeks I have been busy reporting on a wide and varied range of subjects, not all of them relating to my usual defence patch. From Gok Wan visiting Cardiff through to discussing the pitfalls of fraudulent travel agents, the variety of the stories has been keeping me on my toes.

My usual patch, covering defence issues for South Wales has also been ticking over nicely. Twice a week as part of the course we have what we call ‘production days’. During these we are tasked with finding a story, researching it, conducting interviews and then asked to produce a report for either TV or Radio. I’m not quite sure why, but for quite some time the majority of defence news in South Wales has been occurring outside of these production days, which has been to say the least very annoying. But recently the tide seems to have changed. Last week I was able to produce a TV report highlighting the future of Veteran welfare in Wales, and earlier this week I travelled to Crickhowell on the edge of the Brecon Beacons where the local residents are opposing the re-development of former Ministry of Defence land.

So finally I thought my luck was changing. That was until I tried to organise an interview for this Friday. My plan was to interview a local defence specialist about preparations for The Royal Welsh to march through the local town of Ebbw Vale. Eventually I managed to get a contact number and spoke to “his” people about the proposed interview. Then after several phone calls I received the incredibly disappointing news that his diary was full for the rest of the week, and he didn’t have time for me! Who was this high profile defence specialist you may well ask? I can reveal that I have been officially blown out for an interview by “Taffy” the Goat, the Regimental Mascot of the Royal Welsh. Words can’t describe the feeling of emptiness when I was turned down for an interview with such a celebrity!

On a more positive note, I have really enjoyed the last few weeks and I have made a few valuable observations. Firstly, wearing my Royal Artillery tie at any Military event is very useful indeed. Secondly, visiting the town of Crickhowell brings back horrible memories of the infamous Sandhurst Exercise LONG REACH, and finally don’t bank on the diary of a celebrity goat being free.

26/01/11

Well, my first exam is over. After a week of cramming and swotting in the library, I'm glad to say my first exam since starting University is done and dusted. Did I pass? I don't know. I won't find out for another two weeks or so, but I'm quietly confident. Although that usually means I'm setting myself up for a fall, but hopefully not. It was very odd being back in exam conditions. A couple of hundred students all sat in rows of desks, with stern invigilators patrolling up and down, and despite my best wishes the examiner didn't leave the room for a brew leaving the answers on the front desk.

I'm currently balancing my University course with training for the London Marathon (www.justgiving.com/james-banks if you're feeling generous) so after a hectic day of producing two radio shows this afternoon I had to cycle home and then head out for a training run. The training is starting to pick up a little pace now, on Sunday morning I set out for a leisurely half-marathon around Cardiff. I didn't recce the route as well as I maybe should and I ended up running up every single brutal hill between Cardiff and the M4. After hobbling home I headed North to watch the Army Rugby League team take on The Valley Cougars. It was the first time that I had deployed out as a solo video journalist. So off I went with tripod, camera and a range of fancy and confusing equipment. When I arrived at the ground I was surprised to see some soldiers from my old Regiment lining up for the Army Team. I think they were as surprised as I was. Firstly I had to explain to them that they no longer needed to call me sir and secondly explain why I was carrying a video camera.

It was a really close and exciting match and very enjoyable to report on. If you want to know the score then you can visit www.jamesbanksdefence.wordpress.com to watch the highlights. Although the report won't be assessed (luckily) it did give me a good opportunity to get out and gain some real experience, make mistakes and learn from them.

12/01/11

After a very leisurely and relaxing three weeks of Christmas leave or as I'm supposed to call it now - holiday, I’ve returned to Cardiff to start my second term of studies.

Last week, I spent a very enjoyable couple of days skiing with a group of friends including three serving Army Officers. The Army chat was horrific and at times I did have to remind myself that I was no longer serving. I think my girlfriend was very relieved when we left the Alps and I reverted back to civilian (ish) James.

This week I'm supposed to be revising for my first exam which takes place next week, this blog post is acting as an extremely good distraction. I'm hoping that the exam will be like the ones I remember from the Army. With any luck the examiner will leave the room (after leaving the answers on the front desk), tell us how long he will be and then when you've made a complete hash of cheating he'll let your best mate mark the paper. Think I might be pushing my luck a little?

As this my first blog post of 2011 I suppose I should write a little about the year ahead, my goals, hopes and fears. The trouble is though, that I have no idea what this next twelve months has in store for me? When I was in the Army you knew pretty much what you were doing for the next 18 months or so. You knew when your next tour was, when you were due for promotion (ok, so you didn't always get it) and you knew that you would always have a pay cheque to fall back on at the end of each month. But this year I haven't got a clue!

I know that my course finishes in June and I know how much of my resettlement money is left in my bank account, but apart from that my future is unclear. Whilst this is tremendously exciting and unpredictable it does at times give me sleepless nights. As for my goals for the following 12 months then I suppose running my first London Marathon in under 4 hrs has got to be up there, as has passing my exams. But the most important goal (and most challenging) is to get my first job in journalism, only then will I know that the student budget, sleepless nights and revising were all worth it.

14/12/10

Well the festive season is now upon us. In every Regiment or sub-unit of the British Army, young subalterns will be battling the festive social marathon and attempting to simply survive. Fighting off hangovers and helping to decorate their mess to the standard demanded of a not so young PMC (President of the Messing Committee). The same young officers will then be ordered to the Sergeants mess to play games with the senior Non-Commissioned Officers (NCOs).

These games will usually end in the humiliation of said young officers, most probably through foul play and cheating on the side of the Regimental Sergeant Major's team (not that I'm biased).

Then of course there is the Christmas lunch. Where all the Officers in the Regiment serve the soldiers, usually wearing a silly hat whilst trying to avoid the flying sprouts. But the part I'm missing the most is not being on duty for the night of Junior NCOs party.

The role of the Orderly Officer is usually to ensure that the party has ended when it should do and that the bar is closed on time. It's not usually the soldiers that cause the most amusement at these events, although I did hear of a particularly poor show by a certain newly promoted NCO in Northern Ireland last week. The highlight for me was always the wives and girlfriends; they usually provided the most entertainment. My god, how those girls can put away the Bacardi Breezers.

Now that I'm a civilian I won't have the pleasure of ducking from sprouts, being bullied by Sergeants and dealing with WAGs that refuse to leave the Junior NCOs mess. I did however have a brief reminisce last week, attending a Christmas ball courtesy of the Royal Logistics Corps. But this year I've not had to deal with the daily fuzzy head and prolonged period of festive madness that is traditional with the Armed Forces. Although I must confess I am writing this after far too much house red last night after attending the Help for Heroes Carol Concert. Will I ever learn?

Tomorrow night we're all heading out as a course for a festive meal before we finish for Christmas. Clearly I’ll be aiming to get my lecturers completely rangooned. Perhaps I'll instigate some Sergeants Mess themed games to spice things up?

Or maybe, I'll remember that I'm supposed to the Fatherly figure of the course. Quietly slurping away and forgetting all that I’ve learnt about the evils of sinking bucket loads of overly priced house wine.

30/11/10

I’ve turned from a happy go lucky student to a grumpy thirty year old in the last two weeks. The gimmick of being a mature student has now worn off and it’s now turned into just hard graft.

The course is still great, but I’m finding myself becoming increasingly grumpy. The pinnacle of my grumpiness was triggered by the recent cold spell. I was walking home from University pushing my bike as it was too snowy to cycle, when I was brutally assaulted. Yes I had a snow ball thrown at me! Now you’d think I’d take this in my stride, it’s just a snowball James, where’s the harm? But oh no, new grumpy James found the guilty students and de-briefed them, leaving them in no doubt that I was a very angry old man.

On a slightly more positive note, I did have my first two audio reports broadcast on BFBS Radio in Northern Ireland last week, which was very satisfying. Even more satisfying was the fact that someone heard them and commented about them to me on Facebook.

I’m currently in the process of organising my work placement for over Christmas, it’s not essential to the course, but I think I need to go and sample the real world again. The course is fantastic but I’m struggling with the being a student part at the moment, luckily it’s only for a year. Once this is finished then I can officially be classed as unemployed!

My other blogs are still going well, especially www.jamesbanksdefence.wordpress.com which has had almost a thousand hits this month. It’s very reassuring to know people are actually reading your work, although I think most my friends just click on it to see whether they’ve been mentioned or not.

12/11/10

Unless you've been living under a rock this week you'll be aware that university tuition fees are somewhat headline news at the moment. No, I'm not about to condone the actions of the moronic crowd that stormed Millbank last week and no, I wasn't there!

I doubt there were many post-graduate students amongst the crowd that day, as we are all too busy to take a day trip to London. That, and the fact that I don't want to waste anytime missing a course that has cost me around six thousand pounds.

But I'm one of the lucky ones. The Army paid for me to get a very mediocre undergraduate degree. Which at the time I did not appreciate at all, and maybe if I'd of been paying for it I might have worked a little harder? After chatting to my fellow post grads this week I've realised once again that I am one of the lucky few.

After completing nine years of pensionable service I received a resettlement grant, which has enabled me to fund myself for a year of study. This coupled with the enhanced learning credits that have already paid £2000 towards the cost of my course has enabled me to hopefully leave in June with little or no debt. This is vastly different to a lot of my colleagues who are taking out large loans to fund themselves over the forthcoming months, and as a result of these expenses we all take our course very seriously.

I certainly don't think University should be a privilege reserved for the wealthy upper classes, but I do appreciate that we have lived beyond our means for too long. If we still lived in an elitist society similar to that which existed a hundred years ago then I certainly wouldn't have a degree and definitely wouldn’t have been allowed entry into Sandhurst, except maybe to deliver the milk. So for that I am extremely grateful. But I do wonder if sometimes we take things for granted and as a result don't appreciate them as much as we should.

I don't know what the answer is to our current financial storm, but I am certain of one thing. We will not find the solution by smashing windows, storming buildings and throwing fire extinguishers from rooftops.

07/11/10

As I've mentioned before I have been assigned the subject of defence to cover during my studies at Cardiff. A big part of this has been developing a defence blog (www.jamesbanksdefence.wordpress.com), and it's a lot harder than I first imagined.

Throughout my military career I've tried to not concern myself too much with analysing defence policy, why you may ask? Cowardice in some respects, I imagine. It's a lot easier to bury your head in the sand and just get on with the job, rather than debating with yourself the issues of day. Not that I didn't listen to the news. I just mean to say that when I returned to my room in the evening I preferred to watch something mind numbingly simple rather than reading into the latest debates concerning defence cuts. Admittedly this may of left me out of the intellectual fireside chats with the Commanding Officer. But I could always find a lonely Major at the bar, usually drinking cider and black (diesel), clinging onto his/her youth, with whom to make polite conversation (you know who you are!)

But now that I've left the Army everything has changed. I've found myself becoming increasingly interested by defence policy and MOD cuts. I would never have seen myself as someone that would be glued to the Strategic Defence and Security Review. But there I was last month, tweeting every comment or cut, I even read the 1998 SDR and compared the two. Shockingly keen.

The difficult part I've found, is trying to make my findings make sense and add value to what has been announced or occurred in the world of defence. Which is not easy, far too often I feel that I sound like I'm trying to create conspiracies and rumours rather than analysing and reporting.

Over the last few weeks though, my posts have gone in a slightly different direction. My recent stories have covered a number of lighter issues, from a delightful lady knitting hats for Welsh soldiers in Afghanistan to fundraising events for The Royal British Legion. Maybe not as impressive to the Colonel sipping port by the fire, but much more fun to discuss when the diesel is flowing and your teeth are stained purple.

02/11/10

The blogosphere has well and truly got it's claws into me. This blog is now one of four that I contribute to weekly. A year ago my only daily interaction with technology was logging onto my DII account (the military computer network) and ignoring emails from the various senior Officers in my Regiment.

Then I visited Cardiff University for the first time where I was told that I needed to embrace all things geeky. To me, blogs and twitter had been something that Stephen Fry and Lilly Allen did, certainly not the realm of a Captain in the Royal Regiment of Artillery. So after speaking to the students in Cardiff I logged onto Twitter and began to immerse myself into the world of online social media.

So now almost exactly a year later I Tweet during lectures, I write blog posts concerning the future of Journalism (www.jamesedwardbanks.wordpress.com). I try and make sensible observations about defence issues or simply about ladies knitting hats for soldiers in Afghanistan (www.jamesbanksdefence.wordpress.com ).

But of course the most important blog is my British Forces News blog! Although I'm not assessed on this one so it does tend to be less constructive, apologies.

28/10/10

I’ve just had a very interesting chat with one of my lecturers; he was keen to see how I’m settling into the course. He wanted to find out how I was coping with being a student as he is aware that I’d given up a secure job to pursue a new career in journalism.

I reassured him that I was enjoying the course and I was still happy that I had made the right decision. I told him about the wobbles I’d had over the long summer, but that I was now over the worst of them. The beginning of the course already seems a long time ago and we’ve now all settled into the daily routine.

One thing I have begun to notice is that at times I get quite frustrated with no longer being in charge. I suppose it’s only natural that after being employed in a position of authority for so long, the reality of being a lowly student can at times be rather shocking! At these moments I have to take a deep breath, remember that I didn’t have to shave this morning, I’m not wearing camouflaged pyjamas and try not to have an Officer’s Mess style rant.

One part of my former life that’s still ongoing is that of fitness. I’ve really embraced my civvy fitness regime. I cycle into work; I go to the University Gym twice a week (which makes me feel very old) and I go running around Roath Park every other day. Anyone who knew me whilst I was in the Army will now be chuckling I’m sure! I’ve never really struggled with fitness but it’s fair to say I’ve never really embraced it. I think it’s an overreaction to make sure that I don’t turn into a “fat civvy”.

I think I’m fitter at the moment than I have been in years, so much so that I’ve even entered the London Marathon next year. Watch this space for pleas for sponsorship.

18/10/10

Apologies for the lack of posts over the last few weeks but I've been pre-occupied by the whirlwind that has been the first few weeks of my course. Suddenly I've had to grasp the concepts of not only traditional Journalism but the emerging field that is social media.

I've always thought that I've been fairly current when it comes to the internet, but over the last few weeks I've realised that I've been living in the dark ages! We are encouraged to use Twitter and all manner of Internet tools as well as Tweet during lectures (tweetingbanksy if you’re interested!) Coming from an organisation where the use of mobile phone is very much frowned upon during lectures or meetings, I’m now faced with being told off for not playing with my mobile.

As part of the course we are assigned fields of Journalism to follow and develop. For example; Politics, Crime, Education etc. Strangely enough I've been assigned defence. My first story has been following the Cambrian Patrol and in particular the debut of a team of German Army reservists.

I met up with them at the home of 104 Regt RA(V) in Newport where they had been staying and interviewed to them before they departed for Sennybridge. I then interviewed them again over a beer in Cardiff Bay when they had returned from the event. They were slightly disheartened not to have completed the patrol but were keen to attempt the challenge again next year. I can officially announce that the mighty Welsh terrain and "baby’s heads" defeated the German Army! If you don't know what baby’s heads are then I suggest you take a walk through the Welsh hills at night. When you get bored of picking yourself up off the ground after tripping over the large clumps of grass you'll understand what they are.

I also drove up to Sennybridge last Wednesday to watch one of the stands on the patrol. I spoke to some of the Directing Staff and gathered some audio to accompany the interviews. The stand I went to see was the night ambush and I managed to record some really good audio of machine gun fire whilst I tried to describe the scene. I asked the D.S how the foreign teams had performed and which teams had impressed them the most. I was surprised to hear that apparently Bristol University Officer Training Corps had impressed, these students are getting everywhere! Well done Bristol, I’m not sure if Wales UOTC entered a team but if they did I’m sure they were as equally impressive.

30/09/10

The new term has begun, on Monday morning I cycled into Cardiff University for the first time. Before you start picturing me in an Army issue Gore-tex camouflaged jacket and Kevlar helmet I can confirm I was sporting a particularly fetching hi-vis vest and a shiny new cycling helmet instead. After a summer of attempting to learn shorthand I’ve finally begun my formal training. The lecturer, a former Policewoman, runs a tight ship to say the least, the Taliban have nothing on her. For all of you doubters who believe that I'll spend the next year having lie-ins and watching daytime TV take note. I've been in work before 9 o'clock each morning so far, attending two hours of shorthand torture each day plus a full schedule of lectures. Sadly current indicators would suggest this is a trend I’m going to have to get used to.

I’ve only been here a week but I’ve already made some interesting observations; people call each other by their first names, no one calls me sir and I am confirmed as the oldest student on my course! I think by now most of the course knows I used to be in the Army, I’ve tried my hardest to distance myself my former profession although I have had one or two slip ups. The beard I’ve been sporting was supposed to be my cover, it was working until I told one of the other students “to check her civvy email”, let it go James!

Although the course hasn’t really gathered any momentum yet we have had one or two interesting periods of interaction with the lecturers. During our introduction to one of the modules we were given some basic guidance and hints and tips for our future careers. One piece of advice that immediately stood out to me was to “leave your own views at home – be impartial”. I hope that not being biased to the military won’t be a challenge for me. We were shown the Wikileaks footage from an American Apache Attack Helicopter when a group of Reuters Journalists were engaged and killed. The majority of the audience were clearly shocked by this apparent massacre by the reckless Pilots. I found it difficult not to voice my opinions on the fact that the context of the contact was not shown. This coupled with the fact that the audience are aware that they are about to watch the shooting of innocent cameramen made it easy for them to judge. I found myself asking that if we were to show the video to a new audience would they be able to pick out the difference between a camera slung over someone’s shoulder and an AK-47? Or even a telephoto lens sticking out from a compound with a Rocket Propelled Grenade? The difference is that the Apache Pilots were looking for insurgents and believed they had seen them. Whilst I clearly don’t condone the killing of innocent civilians and especially journalists I can sympathise with the pilots and the choices they made. I hope that I can use my previous experience to ensure that I report in an impartial manner and ensure that the full story is always told.

Thursday has now passed and I think I’m over the shock of becoming a year older, I have now officially left my twenties behind me and I’m beginning to embrace my fourth decade. How did I celebrate this milestone you may be asking? A day spent drinking tequila in the Student’s Union you might think? Perhaps even a pub crawl through Cardiff City centre? I’m afraid not. I decided to spend my Birthday learning shorthand and attending a question and answer session taken by Nick Clegg. Luckily for us the Deputy Prime Minister was visiting Cardiff and as students studying journalism we were clearly encouraged to attend. It was very interesting to see how he responded to questions from a young audience; he presented himself well and managed to answer all of the questions in a classically non-controversial manner. It perhaps also demonstrated how in the space of one short year someone such as Nick Clegg has been propelled into the media spotlight following his surprising rise in status. I only hope that my career over the next twelve months will take off in an equally dramatic fashion.

23/09/10

Reality is now finely kicking in. I picked up my NUS card yesterday from the Students’ Union, less than a week to go until I become a full time student. But even more worrying than the prospect of becoming a stinking tax dodging student is the fact that in exactly one week I hit the big three zero. Most of my friends are looking forward to the conclusion of their twenties as it means that they are awarded an extra half a minute in their Army personal fitness test. But as my last day in the Army is the day after my birthday, I very much doubt I'll manage to squeeze in a quick PFT and experience the luxury of the full eleven minutes. Not that I've ever needed it of course!

I'd thought that I wasn't too apprehensive by the dirty thirties approaching, but I must confess over the last few weeks I’ve had a few wobbles. A couple of weekends ago I joined up with a group of Army chaps to watch a Rugby match in order to celebrate a former colleagues thirtieth. It was only when I left them that I realised I was in fact a little concerned at the prospect of hitting this next landmark. After the conclusion of Bath Vs London Irish I jumped onto the train and began to brood over my current situation. I've always been fairly objective about the fact that I'm leaving a secure job to pursue my new career, but it was only on the 18.13 to London Paddington that I began to truly panic about the bigger picture. The prospect of being an unemployed thirty year old student with very little to his name suddenly hit me. If I was remaining in the Army then I would currently be living a very comfortable lifestyle, with few debts, looking to buy a house, upgrading the car and trying to work out what unnecessary gadget to buy next. I must also confess it has crossed my mind on more than one occasion the thought of reconsidering my departure from the Army. Never to the point where I've thought seriously about signing my kit back out, but it has made me realise how easy it would be to walk back into a secure military career. Every time I think about getting back into uniform I soon realise that my uncertain financial future is the only thing that I find daunting and I soon snap out of it. Luckily the prospect of a new and exciting career coupled with moving into the unknown always re-ignites my enthusiasm (that and the prospect of fresher’s week!)

But unfortunately Fresher’s week isn’t all about drinking your own weight in beer whilst dressed as a school girl, there’s also a more serious side. Firstly I have to begin paying my fees, which is a rather thorny subject to say the least. Luckily being a service leaver I am somewhat at an advantage over my fellow students as the Army will contribute to my fees through the Enhanced Learning Credits scheme. I don’t think it’s widely known but this scheme will help you financially for up to ten years after you’ve left the service and for this assistance I am very grateful. But the most worrying aspect of next week is that I have to meet my shorthand lecturer. On the first day we have a meeting so that she can assess the progress we have made on the worksheets that were sent to us earlier this summer. I am a little concerned as it all still looks like squiggles and lines to me, but I’m hoping that it all falls into place over the next few days – fingers crossed.

Sorry this week’s blog is rather shorter than normal, but I am actually very concerned by the standard of my shorthand and I must get back to practising my lines and squiggles. Oh and of course I’ve got to go and pick up my school girl outfit.

15/09/10

Those of you who have been following my blog will hopefully recall my semi-drunken phone call with a recruitment consultant several weeks ago. After seeing my CV on-line she had wished to recommend me for a company that she represented. Initially I thought nothing of this, but then as time went by I thought to myself how useful it would be for my personal development to put myself forward for the interview, so that's exactly what I did. Last week I put on my finest pin-stripe and boarded the train for my first ever civilian interview.

Luckily the train journey was a couple of hours long and I had plenty of time to do my research and prepare some answers for the interview. I began by reading through the pages of text I had downloaded from the company's website, the culture of the company, their principles (very similar to the values and standards of the British Army I noted) and what qualities they looked for in their employees. I also tried to remember a few key words that they had used on their website to try and drop into conversation later.

In true military fashion I arrived ridiculously early. So while I waited, I read through my notes and had a green tea, weary that I'd been drinking coffee all morning. Being caught short during the interview wouldn’t set the correct tone I assumed. I tried to concentrate on the questions I thought he was going to ask me but I was too easily distracted by the latest revelations concerning the Pakistan Cricket team in the complimentary newspaper. Suddenly I realised that I was actually getting nervous! It was then I remembered how dry green tea makes your mouth. As I was trying to peel Ghandi 's Flip flop from my tongue I was greeted by the interviewer. He escorted me into a small square room where I was reassured to see a glass of water waiting for me. I was very conscious how much holding a glass of water could give away nervous shakes, so my first few gulps were taken as he looked down at his clipboard.

Firstly he went through my CV (it didn't take him long) and then he moved onto asking me about the advertised job and how much I knew about the company. He then enquired as to which of the company locations I would most like to work at. Up until this point my research had paid off but now I wished I'd looked into each of the locations in greater detail. Asking myself the following questions; would I live there? What cities are near there? What exactly is the role of each of the locations within the company?

As this was a competency based interview I would be asked a series of questions to which I should respond by giving examples of when I had used the skills mentioned. Clearly having a military background meant that some of the questions involving profitability and other business based themes would be challenging. But I think I made the most of it and gave good positive answers throughout. The rest of the interview continued without too much tension, although towards the end the interviewer seemed far more interested by stories from Afghanistan than the job in question.

It turns out that the job on offer was actually a lot more attractive than I had first imagined and by the end I was almost interested, but more importantly I had experienced and survived my first interview that didn't involve command tasks. It had also given me some pointers for future ventures:

1) Research the company, know their business inside out.
2) Be as positive about your skills as possible.
3) Think carefully about your ambitions, know what you want to achieve in life.
4) Don't drink green tea just before you go in.

On the train home I was listening to two teenagers who were sitting opposite me. One was telling the other that she had an interview the following day. “What shall I wear? I don't know what to wear” she said. “I don't want to look like a slapper, although it’s a right trampy shop”, she added. Maybe that should be my approach next time I thought.

Clearly when it comes to offering advice for interviews I have only just scratched the surface, and after attending one, I don't consider myself worthy to preach. There are also lots of books and websites that you can look at to help you prepare. If you are in the military then your re-settlement Officer and Career Transition Workshop will also offer you advice. But ultimately it’s up to you the individual to go out and push yourself forward for as many interviews as possible in order to understand how you re-act to that environment. By doing this hopefully when your dream job appears you won't crumble at the first hurdle.

10/09/10

I am now one step closer from being completely civilianized or maybe civilised? Last Wednesday I returned to my old regiment in Northern Ireland to have my final medical and hand my ID card in (what a liberating experience). For the last two months I have been considering myself a bona fide civilian, so to return to my old barracks and to be addressed as sir and acknowledging salutes again felt very odd. But it did give me the opportunity to say some final farewells and submit my last JPA claim. I’d like to say that things hadn’t changed in Northern Ireland since I left two months ago, but as I was driven back to the airport I was concerned by what I had seen in Lisburn. When I left in June, the soldiers appeared in good spirits, but this time the mood was somewhat different. They seemed somewhat haunted by a new evil sprouting up within the country. I am of course referring to the Quarter Masters new moustache! Scary indeed, some people say that the atmosphere in Northern Ireland is in danger of reverting back to that of the troubles. Well with that moustache I know at least one person who’s trying to re-live the seventies! I’m only jealous as my moustache turns ginger, good on you QM.

I’ve also taken one step closer to becoming a student this week as I have made the move down to Cardiff. My parents have finally managed to re-claim their guest bedroom and shake off their 30 (nearly) year old son. I’ve moved into a lovely terraced house, about a ten minute walk from the University. Those of you who have been reading my blogs will be glad to know there are plenty of takeaways nearby and I won’t have to rely too heavily on my own cooking. Although last night I did benefit from the culinary skills of my pole dancing instructor housemate, she’s clearly a woman of many talents! My other house mate and land lady is a Mortgage Consultant, not quite as exotic, but I’m assured her cooking is just as good. I think the offer of her homemade lasagne last night was due to a previous conversation when I expressed my excitement about learning to cook scrambled eggs. The two girls looked at each other and said “he’s not even joking is he?!”

I must say I’ve been pleasantly surprised by Cardiff so far, good bars, good restaurants and I managed to coincide my move here with the first Twenty-twenty Cricket match against Pakistan.
Despite the early rain it turned out to be an excellent day out, I particularly enjoyed the cries from the crowd of “no ball” every time Pakistan bowled.

This will be the first month when I will try and live to my new student budget; it’s already not looking too promising. I’ve realised how hard it is to have a cheap week when you can’t simply hide in the Officers Mess and spend no money. I used to be able to leave for the weekend with the same money in my wallet that was left over from the previous Sunday. But without the safe haven of the Mess and the reliance on someone else feeding you it’s not easy to stop the pounds pouring out of your wallet. Yesterday I ventured into the local Lidl supermarket for the first time, I think my single officer opulent spending in Waitrose has been replaced by Lidl – how the mighty have fallen. Before the end of the year I think soup will be regularly appear on the menu. Unfortunately I don’t mean Single Officer Unnecessary Purchases, oh to be a carefree Captain once again!

01/09/10

Whilst sat in a newly discovered Cuban Bar last week I received a phone call from an employment agency that had seen my CV online.

After weeks of titivating my CV I’d got a little over confident of my credentials and posted it on a popular recruitment website. To be honest it was more of an experiment and an excuse to kid myself that I was using my time off wisely. So I was extremely surprised when the phone rang and on the other end was someone who had actually read it! So if you can picture the scene. I was stood in the rain outside a bar in Clapham; flip flops, shorts and a thick knit jumper, trying to think of sensible things to say after sampling a couple of authentic Cuban beers. Suddenly I was confronted with questions such as; “what package was I on?” “What package would I consider?” etc. To begin with I thought I might hang up immediately through sheer terror.

The beauty of putting University between the Army and a proper job had meant that I had batted these kinds of awkward questions away for twelve months. So I quickly came up with a few answers that I hoped wouldn’t show my inexperience but at the same time not reveal my cards too quickly. I was asked questions such as; “what motivates you?” “What key business skills do you possess?” All answers that I now realise I should have had on the tip of my tongue, but in fact I found myself just answering in a cheesy and arrogant manner. Probably not what the recruiter was after, but by this point I was into my stride and with the Bucanero Cuban beer coursing through my veins there was no stopping me. I began to discuss pension plans, company cars and relocating to the Outer Hebrides. Before I knew it I thought to myself “hey James, you’re doing pretty well here, you’re the most employable man in the world, sod Uni, I’m going to become a management Guru.” It was only when I was splashed by a passing car that I remembered that I was stood in flip flops outside a dodgy back street bar fuelled by Castros finest. Probably not in the finest form to start making bold statements I thought. So I kindly asked the lady on other end of the phone if she could email me her further questions as I had an important engagement to attend (Bucanero No. 4). She duly obliged and I escaped further embarrassment.

This phone call however did later make me realise that we don’t fully understand what “package” we are on when in the Armed forces. We know we have a good pension scheme, but what’s it worth? How valuable are we as service leavers and what should we demand when looking for new employment. I’m afraid I don’t have the answers but I intend to work them out, especially as I think I’ve lined myself up for a few interviews! I’m sure Bucanero will help me through them?

When writing this blog I have tried not to reminisce too much about my time in the Army but focus more on my resettlement and future career. But if you will please allow this one small indiscretion as I feel it important to remember a dear colleague and friend who was killed on August 31st last year. Sgt Gus Millar was a member of my Fire Support Team (FST) and my Mortar Fire Controller (MFC). He was killed whilst we were on patrol in Helmand province; he had volunteered to patrol with one of the forward platoons as another member of my FST had been injured the day before. We patrolled several kilometres throughout the night through the irrigation ditches and crop fields before taking up position at first light to probe into Taliban territory. The compound roof that Gus was positioned on suffered a direct hit by a Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) and tragically Gus and one other soldier Pte Kev Elliott were killed.

Gus’s last words were that he knew he was dying and that the medic should leave him and go and treat someone else. He was an incredibly brave man, a Fatherly figure and an inspiration to all that met and served with him, he is sadly missed.

24/08/10

CV cracked! Shorthand..? Not so much! Luckily my course doesn’t start until the end of September, so I still have some time. Although I did have a rather disturbing dream the other night which involved getting told off for not having prepared properly. But then again I once dreamt I was getting married to Kylie and that never happened, so fingers crossed.
Whilst I haven’t been making great gains in my academic progress, my transition to becoming a self-reliant civilian is going from strength to strength. Although the Army might not be the safest of career choices, you are very much spoilt by the levels you are looked after and pampered whilst not on operations. Clearly this results in a slightly high and dry feeling when you’ve handed back your uniform. Serving soldiers and officers might not agree with this, but I think anyone who has left will appreciate the fact that life in barracks is a fairly straight forward one.

What do I mean by all of this? No, I’m not taking a bribe from the Army retention centre; I’m merely keen to illustrate the reasons why I’m such a bad cook!

Up until the end of June I could count the number of meals I had cooked from scratch on one hand. During my formative years in the Army’s Sixth Form College we were fed meals such as “dog burgers” by the Grems (our affectionate term for the dinner ladies). During this time my only two experiences of cooking were putting a Dairy Milk bar between slices of bread to make chocolate toasties, and getting caught in the girl’s kitchen. I confess I wasn’t there to show off my culinary skills! It did however cook up a storm with the matron!

Next I moved onto studying for my degree at the Royal Military College of Science. Where again, I wasn’t allowed to follow the normal path of beans and pasta, but instead forced to eat in the Officers Mess. So once more my gastronomic skills weren’t put to the test. But it was at this time I learnt the value of cooking for prospective girlfriends. I apologise now to any unfortunate ladies that were unlucky enough to sample my Andalusian Chicken (yes I’m afraid you weren’t the only one I cooked that for). Then of course there was Sandhurst were I spent a lot of time cooking for myself, albeit it boil in the bag rations! I have since tried to cook a ration pack for one particular lucky lady, all I’ll say is... Menu D didn’t go down too well!!

So having been fed and sheltered by the Army since I was sixteen I have realised that I need to pull the proverbial thumb out and learn my way around the kitchen. I did at one point consider using my re-settlement learning credits to fund a residential cookery course. But then I discovered how expensive my university course fees were and I had to re-assign every penny. That does somewhat tenuously lead me onto the subject of education and preparing yourself for the big bad outside world.

When I joined the Army I thought I would make a full career as a soldier and as a result I must confess I never paid much attention to the funding available for education. After making many visits to the education centre in Lisburn I have finally acknowledged all of the opportunities and funding available for the most random and diverse courses. To that end I would seriously recommend that any serving soldier/officer reading this to take time out of your day and go and take a walk around your local centre. I would say even more so to my fellow officers. For the following reasons:

Firstly, it will help you to educate the soldiers under your command. Secondly, a soldier’s career usually allows them to gain more vocational qualifications than an officer so therefore spending some of your leave educating yourself will do no harm to your CV. Finally, your boss will be impressed! Pop in after lunch, have a walk around, grab a coffee then head back to the mess for a snooze! Textbook!

17/08/10

In the historic and beautiful setting of Dornoch Cathedral a lone piper once again sets the hairs on the back of my neck to attention with his rousing and anthemic rendition of Highland Cathedral. This fantastic piece of music has for the last twelve months haunted my thoughts and reminded me of memorial services for fallen comrades who have paid the ultimate price in the name of our Queen and Country. But today was something different, I was watching one of the most courageous and daunting moments of a man's life. His wedding ceremony.
This was something I had chatted to the groom about only one month earlier on his stag do. Whilst sat in a hot-tub with a can of Stella in one hand and a bottle of Tequila in the other I was talking to the condemned about the way that different tunes sparked off different emotions. To illustrate my point I raised the music of the pipes and in particular the aforementioned Highland Cathedral. I talked about how as a member of a Scottish Regiment (The Lowland Gunners) and attached to the Black Watch the pipes had clearly a large part to play in our day to day business. I continued how after our recent tour to Afghanistan and subsequent tributes to the fallen I had come to associate the music with a rather sombre feeling and unpleasant but incredible proud lump in my throat. It was at this point the Groom decided to tell me that his Bride would be walking down the aisle to it. Ah, I thought, might have a put a dampener on that...oops! But to my relief as I stood there in the mighty surroundings of the Cathedral with his beautiful Bride walking down the aisle I was filled with much positive emotions, and I am now extremely glad to associate this stirring melody with the happier times and a what I hope is a bright future ahead.

Now to the more canny of you reading this you may think that I'm simply using my re-settlement leave to drink beer, sit in hot tubs and get overly well oiled at weddings. This could appear to be the case to the untrained eye but in fact I am using my time wisely to acclimatise to my new life as a civilian and as a student. This has included taking lessons in the latest technologies that are being utilised in the hectic world of civilian employment. I was hearing a story the other day from my best friends colleague (and fiancée) that she didn't think that he has quite grasped the finer points of their IT suite. When trying to send a fax the other day he was found to be photocopying the the document before hand. When asked why, he replied “well I wanted to keep a copy”. I think he may have got slightly confused in the concept of sending a fax. Obviously I can't reveal his identity but Michaela thanks for the story.

I've also been continuing in my shorthand training. To those who don't know much about shorthand then I should explain. Shorthand is a writing language developed to enable to people to take down dictation quickly and accurately and is mostly used by secretaries and journalists. As part of my course in September I have opted to take an module in Shorthand. This means I have to do some practice over the Summer in order to be at a reasonable standard. At the moment though I must confess I'm not doing as well as I might have hoped and currently it still all looks like a bunch of squiggles, but I am working on it and by the end of September I'm sure I'll be a natural?!

Another on going project at the moment is that of my CV. Those of you who are leaving, or have left the military, will be aware of writing your first civilian CV is no simple task. Trying to explain to an employer the values of having a member of staff that can call in an Apache Attack Helicopter or a Danger Close mission with 105mm Light Gun whilst explaining the Gunnery Problem and the dreaded sausage of death (Artillery chat – no apologies) is not as easy as you might think! But luckily for myself and my fellow wannabe civilians, the Armed forces provide an excellent service through their many Resettlement Centres and the Career Transition Partnership. They assist people like myself to make the most of the skills they have acquired whilst in uniform and more importantly show you how to word them in such a way that a civilian employer would understand them and appreciate them. So that is the task for the next week, finish off my CV. Something that I wish I had done years ago and something I would advise serving soldiers and officers to start as early as possible.

09/08/10

Yesterday I agreed with BFBS that I would contribute to their newly revamped website in the form of a Blog. “Why?” you may ask. Well if you have read my brief Biog, then you will see that I am in the process of a career change. This time last year I was on OP HERRICK 10 as a Fire Support Team Commander and now I’m preparing to return to University to re-train as a journalist.
Therefore the good people at BFBS thought it might be interesting for me to share my experiences in my period of transition from Soldier to Journalist (via being a 30 year old student).

At the time of writing this first entry I’m on a train returning from the funeral of an old friend who was killed by a suicide bomber in Iraq last month. Why should I share this with you? Well firstly whilst my friend was working for a private security company and not as a soldier it highlights the fact that clearly Iraq is still in a rather delicate situation (don’t worry I’m not getting political). Secondly funerals always make me realise how rubbish we all are at staying in touch with old friends. Today I met up with probably a dozen people who I had not seen for years and whilst I might not include them in my closest circle of friends they are all people who I would consider to be good friends. The majority of these friends are, or have been, in the Military. Now if I can’t stay in touch with people who have the same job as me then how on earth am I going to maintain old friendships when I’m a lowly civvy?

This revelation about my lack of social skills brings me onto tonight’s activity. I’m heading into London to catch up with my Company Commander from OP HERRICK and an ITV reporter who was embedded with us on OP PANCHAI PALANG (someone who has been extremely helpful in offering me advice in my new career). So the chat tonight over a beer or three will pretty much some up my state of mind at the moment. One half of me is keen to discuss and gain advice about my new career whereas the other half is more than happy to spin dits and recall stories about the good old days!

Well that’s all for my first Blog, I hope you enjoyed it and it either helped you to nod off or perhaps gave you some food for thought. Over the next few months I’ll try and keep my Blog regularly updated. I’ll try and talk about the resettlement process and the issues I come across and not too much about my student antics, but if you want to find out about those you’ll have to follow me on Twitter!