We often find ourselves discussing with friends and family our earliest ever memory, reminiscing on how young we were and laughing about the silliness of some of those memories, but at times remarking on how others are amazing. My earliest memory was one that shaped the rest of my life, as it was seeing a helicopter hovering beside a cliff in Cornwall. I remember vividly watching this incredible machine drop a winchman down the cliff face whilst hovering perfectly. I then became obsessed with flight and in particular helicopters. In 1992, after 8 years service in the British Army, I began my pilot’s course and then flew helicopters right up until my medical discharge in 2016. I adored flying.
Sadly my involvement in several wars, quite suddenly and without a great deal of warning, caught up with me.
It was the summer of 2014, and my work telephone rang. I lifted the receiver and burst into an uncontrollable cry. I couldn’t speak, and the person on the other end calmly told me to put the receiver down and stay where I was as he’d get help. The Padre (military chaplain) suddenly arrived and took me to his car and drove me to the Defence Centre of Mental Health. That was my last day at work. I then began therapy and rotated through various medicines, but was then sadly admitted to a Mental Health ward just two months prior to my discharge.
The Mental Health ward was awful. I struggled to make sense of my life, my nights were the worst, and I remain haunted by them though much less so all these years later. Luckily, I had an amazing Doctor (Dr Kate Goble) who also volunteered with a service charity, The Not Forgotten, whom she reached out to on my behalf. I was invited to Malta with a wonderful group of veterans from all three services and it was my first opportunity to converse with others, both men and women, who had been suffering just like me, and suddenly I wasn’t alone.
Once I was discharged, I reached out to another service charity for assistance with my mental health, but they soon discharged me as things were just too complex for them. Luckily I have always been a fighter, and I knew I had to take control of my own recovery, but at this stage I didn’t know how. Then, one morning I awoke with extremely darkened thoughts of bringing this all to an end and I decided I should go for a walk and strolled to the town park. As it was a warm summers day the park was busy and so I crawled underneath a willow tree and leant against the trunk.
Suddenly and almost magically I heard a voice in my head telling me just how similar we were, that willow tree and me. We were in synergy as we looked so sad and forlorn and yet we had firm trunks. Following on from this feeling I wrote a poem about that willow tree, my first ever use of poetry. Afterwards, whilst I didn’t feel any euphoria, I did feel that I had reconnected with the planet once more. I’ve written almost daily ever since.
The Not Forgotten had kept in touch and invited me to other events and most importantly listened to me and showed an interest in my writing. Indeed, it was such a surprise when they reached out about a US led project utilising masks and art to portray one’s feelings. It was such a brilliantly simple idea, that we could use art and creativity to show others our inner troubles. By complete coincidence one of my earliest poems had been about my mask, and what it allowed me to hide from the world, and I thought it time to share that emotion as well as poem:
My Mask
I wear a mask that looks like me
Try to look but you won’t see
Behind that mask I hide my fears
Inside that mask I hide my tears
A few weeks later, “we few, we happy few” gathered in a couple of beautiful cottages in Devon, hosted by both The Not Forgotten and the US State Department’s Cultural Heritage team. We travelled for a day or two for inspiration, but I sensed we already knew how we’d paint our masks and were very eager to begin. Sadly and without warning we lost a member of our veteran team who had passed away in her sleep. That day was spent in reflection, but we all agreed she’d want us to carry on and she’d already created her wonderful mask.
Thursday came along at a fast pace, and we were then given an opportunity to not only show our masks but to explain the logic of how we had formed our design and what in our lives had influenced our artwork. Each and every mask had a difficult story behind it and emotions were high that afternoon. It was incredible to listen to the stories of life that was being told by the voice behind the mask. We all felt the unity of not only our pain but also that of human kindness, a belonging, a harmony of hope.
So, where are we now and what might be the update of all of this?
Firstly we all remain super friends and often discuss how we are feeling in our little band, but more excitedly, our masks were displayed inside the US Embassy in London in October 2024. We were invited to attend the opening night (24th October) and had a grand tour of the building prior to seeing our work.
I am ever so pleased we got together again and am so honoured to have been involved in this hugely beneficial project that began in the USA. I do believe that helping others witness how service has affected us, both physically and mentally, connects us once again as human beings, much like that willow tree did for me all those years ago.
