Finding Civvy Street

Argentina has seized the British force of violence in a dispute over ownership. American and British forces are attacking the Taliban in Afghanistan. Randy Gattrick served in the military from 1980 to 1990 and missed out on going to the Falklands. Karl Austin Behan served in the RAF until 1997 and was discharged due to his sexuality. He faced discrimination when trying to join the fire service. Transitioning to civilian life can be difficult for veterans, but finding a job with a similar structure and being around other ex-military can help. Henry Docherty served in the military from 2004 to 2020 and now works at a company that helps ex-service people find fulfilling tech roles. Argentina has seized the British force of violence, whose ownership she's been disputing with Britain for two centuries. American and British forces have begun attacking the Taliban in Afghanistan tonight in the ways of military strikes aimed at crippling their air defenses. The final scene is what Sergeant Easton and almost all his comrades, I dare say, have been dreaming about for years. Civvy Street, straight ahead, John. Freedom, and the rights of the common man. The last thing I want to do is to tell you that I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. I'm a man of my word. Until October 1986, when it was time for me to leave. Because my daughter was growing up. Very rarely home for more than two or three weeks at a time. And then I was off somewhere again. My name's Randy Gattrick. I served with 42 Commando and Camacho Group from 1980 to October 1990. I joined straight from school, did my full nine years and then came out. In a pub in Salford, Steve Harper and Andy Gattrick meet to discuss their military past. So my mother was a big Coronation Street fan. I must have been, I don't know, 12, 13 at the time. And Ken Barlow's son, he had an argument with his dad, Ken. Ken wanted him to go to university and he wanted to join the Navy. And he made such a convincing argument for joining the Navy that I thought, sounds like a plan. I was an apprentice metal smith. I was on block release three months at a time going to college. But block release three months at a time was just cracking me up. I looked on the bus into Manchester. Went into the office with the intention of joining the Royal Navy. To be an artificial shipwright to carry on doing the job we've been doing. And I was interviewed by a post sergeant in the Royal Marines and the rest is history. A lot of lads who were in the, joined the Marines joined to fight wars. Many front line soldiers who served during 1982 wanted to go to the Falklands. Front line troops, they want to get in amongst it. The Falklands and their 1,800 British residents are now under the occupation of more than 2,000 Argentine soldiers. And those who were not selected to go down for whatever reason, a lot of them had a lot of anger and resentment because they weren't being deployed with the rest of us. So I went down there and we did what we did. Under constant artillery fire, mortar fire, planes shooting at you. It was exciting. And the camaraderie was unbelievable. Second to none. You can't beat it. It's hard to imagine wanting to be in a war zone. But when Argentina invaded the British-owned Falkland Islands in the April of 1982, England would see war, and on a scale not seen for over 16 years. For those who went to the Falklands, it likely would have been their first taste of combat. I didn't go to the Falklands. The day it kicked off in the Falklands, I'd just got on off the train at Manchester Piccadilly with my wife, my late wife and daughter, because I was home on leave. I walked down the platform and there's a man there from Manchester Careers Office, in uniform. He's got a black card up with my name on it. Basically it said, about turn round, you're on the next train back. I was bulleted in the camp, waiting for the briefing to see who and who wasn't going. But, well, my name didn't come out of the hat. Because things still had to go on at the CTC, at the Commando Training Centre. Training still had to go on. We still had to get recruits, junior marines and officers through training. My name didn't come out of the hat. Were you gutted? Sorry? Were you gutted that it didn't come out? Yes, I was. A lot of lads. I saw all my friends going and lads that didn't come back. You never really get over, because you'll miss your friends, you'll miss your uphols for the rest of your life. Because we had such great times together. Karl Austin Behan served as an RAF firefighter from 1991 till 1997. Well, I'd always wanted to be a fireman from an early age. And I went over to see my brother, Paul, in Akrotiri, because he was serving in the Air Force. And whilst I was out there, I realised that they had an Air Force in the fire service. And part of it, I think, me going in the Air Force as well, was because I was 19. And I suppose it was my way of running away, really, initially. During his service, he was awarded the Bronze Medal for Bravery from the Royal Humane Society after an aeroplane crash at RAF Chivna. There'd been an aircraft crash at RAF Chivna, which was a Hawk aircraft. The impact of that had quite a big effect, because I ended up being the first firefighter at the scene, knocking down the main flame lads. And then climbing on top of the fuselage, pulling the canopy, and getting one of the pilots out, the first one that was ejected. And there was a lot of things ricocheting off, because it was fully armed. I tried to pull the ejector seat, so the whole time that I was sat on the aircraft, the aircraft could have blown at any time, and the seat could have gone at any time. His pearly white teeth were there, but his mask had melted to his face. When I talk about it, I can still smell it, as if it was yesterday. And I managed to get the pilot out, but then he died 11 days later. Now, I dealt with that. I was left to deal with that. But nobody, nobody asked me if I was okay. It was just taken as, that's just what you do. In April of 1997, Carl was discharged from the RAF due to his sexuality. Being gay was still illegal in the armed forces until 2000. They told me that my services were no longer required, as I was incompatible to service life. And, which then meant that I was now homeless, lost my job, lost my career, lost everything around me. Couldn't say goodbye to anybody. And, literally marched off the camp, I was taken to the room. I was given three boxes and just told to pack the boxes and be dropped off somewhere. And, during that sort of thing, it was just that whole sort of realisation of what am I supposed to do next. So then, I applied for Greater Manchester Fire and Rescue Service. And then, it took over a year to get into fire service. And then, when I got my contract, I told them that the reason why I joined was because of being kicked out of the air force for being gay. And they were like, we don't have gays in the fire service. There are no gays. So, yeah, I need to keep it to myself. I was like, this is 1998. So, I said, well, I know there's gays in the fire service, but none of them are out. No one's out. So, I thought, no, I'm not going back into something that wasn't accepted back then. So, when I told the lads, the lads were fine about it. It was the hierarchy that had a problem with it. According to a survey done by the Pew Research Centre, around one in four veterans will find the transition to civvy street difficult. These factors get even more extreme if the individual has experienced combat or a traumatic event. Although the employment rate for service leavers is at a record high, acceptance and understanding of those in a job may make a career more or less rewarding. Initially, it was, depending on where I worked, it was really difficult. Because it wasn't the same structure. There wasn't the same discipline. And everything else that goes with the service life. And I did struggle. Until I went to work for a man called Tony. He was a former course housing driver in the Royal Marines. Tony was of the same mindset. We had the same sort of structure. Don't be late. Always be on time. Always be polite. There was discipline. Initially, I should have joined the prison service. Passed the interview. And then I was provisionally accepted, pending further vetting. Unfortunately, I forgot to mention my previous convictions. It wasn't anything serious. It was only drunkenness. However, I was rejected. But I was already outside by that time. The first week I got back into Bolton, I got a council house and a job on the same day. So I was made up. I went to work for Stirling Security. It was only a very low paid security job. However, all the lads on the security were ex-military. So it's like being amongst the lads. It helps. I think that helps immensely because you've got the same mindset. You've got the same sense of humour. You have the same, not quite the same crack, but almost the same crack as you do when you're back in the military. Henry Docherty served as an aircraft technician from 2004 till 2020. Seeing conflict in both Afghanistan and Iraq, he now works at Redeployable, a company which regularly deals with positioning ex-service people in fulfilling tech roles. My current role is Head of Customer Success at Redeployable. I served 16 years in the end and I was an aircraft technician. But I left during COVID. No matter how long you serve, getting out of the military can be a scary thing. It's a big transition, especially if it's the only thing you know. A lot of people go into the military at a young age, so it is their only job that they've had. So then moving away from that and into a normal company, a civilian company, can be scary. And there's obviously a long notice period. So it's a 12-month notice period between handing your notice in and then actually being out of the military. And that can be a really daunting time. On paper, nothing I've done over my career puts me in a position to be doing this role. And again, Head of Customer Success is a loose term. There's only nine of us working in the company at the moment. And so we're covering a lot of bases, really. The role changes a lot. But none of it is engineering and none of it is aviation. And again, it comes down to those fundamentals, that adaptability, that robustness, and that ability to learn quickly, as I alluded to earlier. You move every three years in the military. Henry has found his place in transitioning to Civvy Street. But not everyone is as fortunate. It's only now that I sort of realise the fact that, again, that sort of duty of care just wasn't there then. And, you know, I suppose it's something that was around at that time that people just didn't do that. I can see why a lot of people who have served in the armed forces and left for whatever reason that they finished doing their seven-year service, their nine-year service, and then end up either homeless or on the street because they don't know how to defend themselves. Around 500 veterans' households are being made homeless every three months. That's around five a day. I think it's improved depending on the reason why you've come out. I think for those people who have been injured in a war situation, although they get the pensions and although they get looked after that way, I'm not sure, from speaking to people, how well they are looked after, as in the fact of going through a process. And maybe that's more to do with mental health and wellbeing. I did quite well with pressure in most forms. And it was like, well, why? And without realising it in the military, you are exposed pretty regularly to quite high-pressure situations. I spent six months in Iraq and we were rocketed every day. They were shooting rockets into the camp that we were staying on every day. It was outrageous. It's interesting that you can go from that to being like, oh, I've got a really important customer call and feeling a little bit nervous. What are you nervous about? That's ridiculous. I think I'm the only former military man in the office. However, I'm not devolved into civilian life. It's all right. Every now and then I miss engineering, I miss having my hands on and doing stuff, but it's definitely been the right decision. There's no better feeling than being able to port somebody into a new role and see them enjoy it. It gives him the bollocking of a lifetime. I'm unfinished. He's right. And what have you got to say for yourself? He steps forward and he puts his stance at one time. Me to the other. He puts his hands on the desk like that. He goes, take it easy, man. The war's over. Take it easy, man. The war's over. You've been listening to Finding Civvie Street by me, Ben Ogden. Thanks to Steve Harper, Carl Austin Behan, Andy Gatrick and Henry Docherty. For more details on the show and to keep updated with further episodes, go to finding.civviestreet on Instagram and on Facebook. Finding Civvie Street