A Soldier's Story

I recently had the privilege of seeing an installation in Salts Mill by the artist David Tovey, which I found incredibly moving. Called 'A Soldier's Story', it had five mannequins dressed in desert camouflage, with their mouths taped. Written on the back of each one's jacket was the true story of an ex-serviceman who has become homeless.

To quote from the exhibition display:
'Ex-servicemen who become homeless account for a shockingly high number of people. David [the artist] was one of those soldiers. This installation depicts the stories of some of those people. Raw, uncompromising and sometimes brutal, there are deep questions sitting at the heart of these stories about how people who serve this country are treated. These stories attest to the struggles people face when they leave the armed forces. As the UK reflects on the centenary of the First World War with fields of poppies, grand exhibitions and flag-waving up and down the country, David's soldiers invite you to consider the legacy of those wars and the situation people find themselves in now.'


For several years now, I have not worn a poppy on Remembrance Day, a reaction to what (seems to me) to be an increasing tendency to sentimentalise our troops and wars, and the way patriotism gets blurred into nationalism. I know it raises charitable funds but it makes me extremely angry that ex-service personnel who are injured, often with life-changing results, or mentally scarred, are so often forced to rely on charity for the support that I believe should be forthcoming from their former employer, our government. Austerity bites, whilst we continue to supply arms to questionable regimes, avoid asking the difficult questions, ignore the plight of those who've given everything in what was touted as 'a noble cause', allow a society where they are further abused on top of the trauma they already carry. It is wrong.


'I spent 12 years as an all arms commando. Northern Ireland, Kosovo, Bosnia, Sierra Leone. I saw so much death, it's in my head forever. I left the Forces and started a business, got married and had a family. I would get angry and lash out for no reason. I couldn't sleep and I got severe depression. I got diagnosed PTSD. Then sadly my marriage fell apart and so did I. After a few months I lost my business and home and found myself living on the streets. My drinking was out of control and I started to abuse drugs. I became addicted to heroin and it's still in control of me. 
I joined the forces to protect this country and all who live in it but now I'm forgotten about. I wish I'd never joined the forces. Look what it's done for me.'

'After I left the Irish Guards I spent many years in the decorating industry. I'd help anyone and everyone. I volunteered with Crisis. I run the London Marathon many times for charity. I'm a lovable rogue but I struggled with my demon. I'm an alcoholic. When I'm drinking, I'm a different man. Because of alcohol I ended up on the streets and in rehab. Whilst in my last homeless shelter in 2013 I had a massive heart attack. I stopped drinking and started to look after myself but I got depressed and started to drink and smoke again. I cut all contact with family and friends. I stopped eating and solely survived on alcohol. Alcohol is in control of me. 
I died on 1/12/16 from a heart attack induced by malnutrition, aged 64.'

'I served in the 3rd Parachute Regiment and was part of Operation Telic in Iraq. The brigade lost eleven soldiers, during the campaign, six of whom were killed by a hostile mob. It was a bloody campaign. I was mentally damaged. I tried to adapt to civilian life after leaving the Forces. I got a job in security but ended up in jail for GBH as I couldn't control my temper. After jail, it was extremely difficult to get work and I had no choice but to become homeless. Since being homeless, I've been beaten, set on fire, urinated on, treated like human waste and I have no hope, no confidence and no soul left... I've seen death many times but all I want now is my death. For [?] years I've been homeless and I don't see that changing in the near future.'