Nathan Rider experienced tragedy in a way that many wouldn’t wish on their worst enemy. He left the battlefield in Iraq only to find another war awaiting on the home-front; the loss of that which meant the most to him. Just imagine time spent in a country where almost anything can kill or maim; the tempo of that adrenal journey becomes a lasting fatigue that’s almost impossible to explain. Then, your arrival home is met with the fragmentation of your very foundation and the dissolution of all you’ve held dear. How do you quantify that degree of calamity and loss? The loneliness experienced through those forfeitures was traumatic to a point where Rider admittedly struggled with his own identity. A maelstrom of colluding darknesses formed like tempest clouds over Nathan’s life leaving him to wade through the destruction seemingly alone. 

Adversity doesn’t operate in a vacuum of equality. Our collective experiences don’t perform on a parallel and some seem to face hardship at every turn, while others appear to skate by unscathed. Although Nathan’s life certainly followed the former path, we can learn much from his pilgrimage because the truth is; we all will experience pain in some form or fashion. The frequency and intensity of Rider’s torment, while hard to contemplate, serves as an education on the subject of sacrifice. Some of those sacrifices we volunteer ourselves for and some of those are involuntary. One does not diminish the other. Instead, the question to ask oneself is, “How do I recovery?” Let Nathan’s words serve as at least a portion of that guidebook on healing.

What was your approach to serving in the military and how did your family help you with that?

NR: My dad had served in the armed forces before and was quite easy to talk to about things related to service. I always had an interest in the military and wanted to be a pilot at first. I was too tall unfortunately and then decided I wanted to join the Royal Marines. Whilst (while) I was still in college, I joined the Territorial Army (Reserves) which I hoped would be a stepping stone to the Regulars (Active Duty). I had the chance to go to Iraq and my dad was the best person to speak to about that. There were a few other guys that I also spoke with because they had already done tours in Iraq. I could talk to them about what to expect and I knew they had that experience of being on operations. You try and prepare yourself the best you can before you are deployed. “TA Soldiers” or “Army Reservists,” as they are called now, deploying with regular army units seemed uncommon to me when I deployed. Within that role, you join your regular unit about 6 weeks before you deploy and before you know it, you’re on your  way to Iraq. Oftentimes, you have no pre-deployment training with them at all. You come into it expecting to fit in and they have already gone through all the drills (training). It seemed like half of the time I didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing. I was just trying to not look like rubbish (laughs).  

When you are out on the ground it is the same way. It was how we felt when we got hit by an IED. When something happens to anyone overseas like that, the phones are locked down and you have what is called an “op blackout” occur. A couple of days after the incident happened I managed to phone my dad. I just burst into tears. I told him what happened because he knew my friend Chris who had lost his leg. I told him I was fine and told him about everybody else along with what happened with their injuries. He took it pretty hard. My dad was shot in the knee when he was in Ireland with the Army, where he served with the Black Watch, so he understood pain and injury. In that moment, I’m sure he felt like he was talking to his little boy on the phone who was in a war zone, crying. He took two weeks off at work due to the stress. It directly affected him. He was a bus driver at the time that happened. He told me he couldn’t concentrate or work. Fortunately, the doctor he was seeing had a son in the Royal Marines so he had knowledge about all that stress. He knew exactly how to treat my dad and signed him off work for two weeks.  

When I came home, I never really spoke to my dad about the incident. I never told him how I was feeling or how it had upset me. My parents never asked me either. I remember the weekend after I got back home I had fallen asleep on the settee (sofa) in the living room.  My sister went to wake me and I shot up straight from sleep and just stared at her. I felt like I was in fighting mode. It scared her pretty badly. She ran out of the room and didn’t know how to deal with it.  I was thinking about the day we were blown up. I’ve never stopped thinking about that moment. At the time, every single day I thought about it. I thought a lot about the fact that it could have been me and not Chris. When it happened, we saw an Iraqi film crew filming us. The voice in my head told me if I shot that film crew I would go to prison, but it was tempting (laughs). From the time we got blown up it was about 90 minutes before any aid got to us. The majority of the helicopters were at Basra Palace during that time. They couldn’t find us because they didn’t have the ability to locate our position.   

They never found the guys that actually did it. There was a guy claiming to have done it to us. We were out on patrol once in his area but we weren’t given the permission to arrest him. The rules for that are similar to the rules of engagement. When I came back to England I didn’t know what to do with myself. I worked on a building site for a bit and then I signed up for the Fire Service.  I got in on the first application and went straight away (got in right away). I think it helped that I had that experience from the military. There were questions on the job application about how you would cope with different experiences if they happened.  I realized that five out of the six experiences they asked about were things I had done on tour. I joined the Fire Service in 2008 and my dad died in 2010 from lung cancer. They caught it quite early but during the operation they realized the cancer attached itself to his heart, and they couldn’t remove it. They did chemo and radiotherapy (radiation) but it just didn’t work. Those two methods of treatment caused his pulmonary artery to rupture. He basically bled to death. 

Tell me about the time in training getting ready to deploy in Iraq? Who were some of your biggest mentors?

NR: My dad had served and was my biggest mentor when I joined. There were a couple in the TA (Reserve) Unit that also helped me along. I tried to meet their standards and emulate them. There were three guys I knew that had deployed and they were so professional. It showed in everything that they did and they were brilliant soldiers. They knew the manuals back to front and acted upon that training in all they did. I wanted to be like them. I remember telling those three guys that I was deploying to (Op Telic or OIF) Iraq 9.  They were on Op Telic 5 and laughed at me because they thought the war was finished. They thought they had done all the fighting, apparently. I just wanted to be respected by my peers and let them know they could rely on me if shit hit the fan.

Can you tell us about your tour in Iraq and some of the difficulties you had?

NR: I deployed with the 1st Battalion Yorkshire Regiment. A (Alpha) Company, who I was with, had the task of securing the rural south sector. This area encompassed the farmland south of Basra and down further to the shipping ports. The first few weeks of the tour it was a struggle for me to climatize. It was the first time I had been abroad because I had never been on holiday. When I was getting off the aircraft in Qatar all I thought was how warm the plane engines were (laughing). I then realized that I was in the desert and it was so damn hot. I had never experienced that type of heat and humidity. The first six - eight weeks all the British forces were being scaled down in Iraq. The places we were in control of were either being scaled down or handed over. We were doing various patrols there in armored land rovers, not heavy armored vehicles. We provided protection for other convoys.  

I remember one strike op we did with a group of Navy SEALs. We had to find a group of Canadians contractors that had been kidnapped. We went with them on the strike (mission) and we provided them with security. There were strikes happening all over the city that day. It was after that we moved to Basra and it started getting a bit hot (frequent battle). It was a week or two before we were there that the 539 Assault Squad Royal Marines deployed there on their assault boats. In this particular instance, they were patrolling up and down the Shat-al Arab river. They would run supply routes from the Shatt-Al Hotel from Basra Palace. They were like sitting ducks under the bridge on one of those missions.

There was a bridge south of the city called pontoon bridge and it was a floating bridge that could pull to the side for the larger ships. If it was open you could float across with no problem but if it wasn’t you only had a small window to get through. The week before we went there someone had placed an IED above them and as they went under it hit them. We saw the boat after we got to Basra Palace and I believe the Royal Marines lost a few of their guys on that mission. It was horrible and the boat looked like it had been run through a cheese grater. We ended up doing patrols on the boats and every time you went out your fingers were crossed (laughs). You wanted to make it back. I always had in my mind that the fucking bridge would be open. The first time we headed up to the northern sector of Basra city to commit to strike ops from there. The bridge wasn’t open and all I thought was, “Fuck.”  

I think there comes a point when you are in theatre that you accept the inevitability that you might die or be injured. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can operate properly. If you get over the fact that you might get blown up or shot, then your mission is easier to accomplish. You have to go about your business and can’t concentrate on those thoughts. I’m not saying I wasn’t scared because I was, and I think everyone is at some point in war. You have to get over that. I remember we got to the hotel on one particular mission and were getting absolutely pounded. We were attacked one night by mortar rounds and rockets. They were so close to the tent that you could hear the shrapnel hitting the outside of the tent. You could see the flash of the rounds. I thought of my dad and him telling me to put something in my ears and open my mouth to equalize the pressure in your body. I just laid there and did what he told me. It’s amazing how those lessons can come back to teach you when you’re in the middle of hardship. I’ll never forget that.

Can you tell us about going out on strike operations?

NR: It was C (Charlie) Company that really did most of the strike operations and we were the protection force for them. We never really got in the thick of the strikes. I think the closest we got face to face was at Shiba Log Base. The prison was located at this base for all the detainees. I guess you couldn’t call them prisoners (laughs). They were kicking off (rebelling) a lot and fighting with people. They would throw shit at the guards and 26 had actually escaped. The Royal Artillery were meant to be looking after them actually. They just couldn’t keep control of them and had asked us to come in to help. We put all the riot gear on complete with batons and shields. We had guys from Fiji in the British Army, who we called, “Team Fiji.”

Most of those guys were bigger than me and twice as wide. They were also twice as muscular (laughs) and it was all natural with no gym work. We sent six of Team Fiji into the prison to sort the detainees out and they got really quiet when the guys from Fiji walked through the doors. There was one guy that seemed to be the ringleader of the detainees and he had grabbed two of the other detainees and was roughing them up. He had one with his left arm and one with his right arm. He was charging toward the door with them and just stopped when he saw Team Fiji (laughs). The door opened and two of team Fiji were sent in, and they just flattened him out. It got very quiet after that (laughs).  

I remember one time shortly after we had been hit with the IED. The rules of engagement were difficult because we weren't allowed to fight back very often. The commanding officer in charge of us just got tired of it and told everyone he had enough. He was upset that his blokes (men) were dying. Operation Rattlesnake was happening just south of the city and they were working their way up north. He told them that anyone that wanted to pick a fight could just have at it. I think it was the first time that the Challenger 2 tank was able to fire its main armament inside the city since the initial invasion. They were driving over cars and fucking chasing people down.

The American F-16s were dropping 500 pound bombs down on the enemy. We wanted to make sure all the IED teamster eliminated and we knew where they were. Our guys were definitely getting after it. One of our tank units spotted an IED team setting up and I remember they absolutely demolished the enemy. We were the protection for those types of attacks in the city. We could feel the shock waves while we were there. We were told later on that night that the explosion we felt was 3 miles away. It was an IED that had been dug into the road that one of our warriors had driven over. It basically ripped the vehicle our guys were driving in half. I believe that six soldiers died in that instance. We thought we had been hit and we were 3 miles away because that’s how massive the explosion was. We heard that there was 25 or 30 kilos of C4 inside of that explosive.

We spent a week at a location inside Basra and it was one of the first times we were shot at by small arms fire. We were on our way to our objective and there were all of these armored vehicles called “bulldogs” driving along. There was an open top vehicle with the gunner on top of it and he was hit. We thought we were next. The troops on the ground provided the support. We were nodding off and falling asleep when we heard over the radio, “Contact IED!” I woke up quickly. It turned out it was an officer who had been in Iraq for a week. His vehicle had set an IED off that was at head level and his vehicle was completely destroyed. While we were going in for that incident there was a considerable amount of small arms fire that our unit was taking. Three days after that we were doing patrols in police stations and we were getting smashed to bits. The city was getting ripped apart but fortunately most of us made it out alive.    

 What was it like after you were hit and going out on missions?

NR: I was quite open minded with the Iraqis during the tour, before the insider incident. I was very aware that I was in their country and that I needed to be respectful to them. I tried to be very polite. I was a lot more force ful after we were hit by the IED though because it changed my perspective of them as a people. When I had to be forceful there was no gentle escalation. I had been polite and had moved to more harsh language to get them to do what I needed them to do. It was for my safety and theirs’ because there was no middle ground anymore. It was very tough emotionally because I deployed with another reservist, Chris, and he had lost his leg. He was gone after he got blown up and I was left on my own. I was left with all of the regular soldiers and I didn’t really fit in. I remember getting to Basra Palace after the incident and we went to the cook house to get some food. I got my food and sat down alone.

There was another group there that hadn’t been involved with us in the incident sitting and eating. They asked me why I was sitting by myself. They told me I was one of them now. I felt conflicted because part of me thought it was nice they said that. But, there was a part of me that thought it had taken this incident for them to accept me and that upset me a bit. It took 50% of our multiple (section) being injured for them to acknowledge who I was. It took a terrible incident and seeing my response to that, for them to see that I could do the job. I didn’t dwell on that because it wasn’t a good place to stay mentally. I was mild-mannered before the incident but afterwards I began to voice my opinion on things. I let people know when they pissed me off after that incident whereas before I wouldn't have done that. There were missions after the IED attack where if I was uneasy about something I spoke up about it instead of being quiet. I think it was a week after we had been hit that we were driving down the same road (Route 6) in Basra and I remember it was very dark.  

We were driving with headlights on and the commander at the time was Sergeant Wilson. I got on the comms to him and told him the road seemed extremely quiet for that time of day. He told us to turn our lights off, to use our night vision, and get off the road. I would have never dared to say anything like that before the mission that went wrong. I knew I needed to say something because I had been through the consequences of not speaking up. I’m not saying I knew the instance was going to happen before but now I was just more aware of things. I needed to be more vocal and speak what I felt. The company medic came up to me after that and told me, “Well done.” He told me I was alright and that I had done a good job in speaking up. It was nice to have people listen to me. I was now in a place where the guys trusted me. I remember when we were scaling back and handing over power to the Iraqis. We were in a small compound surrounded by the Iraqi Army and the OC (Officer in Charge) of our company took me as his personal protection to meet him. He had many soldiers with a wealth of knowledge to pick from but he chose me to be his escort. It was a really good feeling.  

What were some of the more frustrating aspects of that deployment for you?

NR:  I think there was a lot of frustration about restraint and not being able to do our job. The rules of engagement made those things difficult. We were at a shipping port when a guy who said he was responsible for blowing us up, came up and told us it was him. He told one of our guys who is still serving now that had learned Arabic whilst on tour because you couldn't trust the interpreters. I wasn’t sure if he was bragging or just trying to piss us off. When we finally got permission to arrest and question him he was gone. It would have been nice to take the initiative and do the job. The rules are the rules though and there isn’t much you can do. It would have been a morale boost to arrest him after what had happened to us in that IED attack. The constraints of not being able to soldier were just killing us. Soldiering isn’t just about fighting I suppose but it felt terrible having our hands tied. 

What were you most proud of when you served over there?

NR: I’m not sure really what I was proud of while I was there (laughs). It’s not something that I’ve ever thought about. I had a sense of personal pride because I proved that I could do my job. You can only train so much and then you have to go and do it. The training is something that everyone can do but actually being deployed and going into combat is completely unique. When the rounds are flying past you that is completely different than going through training. The immediate action drills teach you to return fire but really the first thing you have to do is pull your head out of your ass (laughs). You do what you’ve been trained to do after pulling your head out. I think knowing that I could do the job made me the most proud. I wanted to do it full time after I finished with the reserves.

What were you most proud of within your unit?

NR: I was on  the first deployment for the Yorkshire Regiment. The Yorkshire Regiment formed on June 6, 2006 and we deployed in November of 2006. There was an element of pride about being the first to deploy under the Yorkshire Regimental banner. We had quite a bit a few training roles and ceremonial moments with the Iraqis since we were handing power back. We mentored them quite a bit. I remember being on guard duty with an Iraqi soldier and teaching him about rotations. We taught them to not leave before their assignment was done. I still thought at this point that they had a sense of pride in their country. But, as the deployment went on I don’t think they were very prideful, and honestly I believe it was just a job to them. 

They didn’t care about their own country and that was very strange for me as someone who is very proud of his own nation. There is only so much you can do for people that aren’t proud of their home. We tried to coach and teach them but they needed to step up. I never saw an ounce of fight in any of them. It’s a weird thing, right? I was so proud to be a British soldier and that pride is instilled in us very early on. I remember a time in seeing them take back a certain region and it did give me a sense of pride. I began to think it wasn’t all in vain. I may not have anything to do with those guys but I felt proud for them at the moment. I don't imagine that many of them had a choice in it though. There weren't many career paths over there. I respect their culture and I don't think any less of them but the lack of pride was very weird. When I first saw the Iraqi Army getting hammered I wasn’t surprised at all. The Iraqis I came across were only loyal to whoever was paying the most money to them. 

What was your toughest day overseas?

NR: I believe that the day we got IED’d was our toughest day there. There were moments as a soldier that you just want to fit in with everyone. When you are a reservist you get isolated and hammered for things. If you fight and react you get it ten times worse. I was a young 19 year old and naive. I was with guys who had known each other for years and I had only known them a couple of months. You just have to take it until you do your job and start to fit in with them. My dad told me that I had one mouth and two ears so I needed to use them in proportion. People don’t often use them that way and they are the ones who come out thinking they know it all. I wanted to learn from these guys. I learned that I could do the job just as well and be as professional too as time went on. I didn’t think I was as skilled or talented but I wasn’t a hindrance when we deployed. There were some guys falling asleep on guard or not cleaning their weapon but that was not me. I was proud of the job I did and what I learned during that time. When you are over there and you have your mates around you there is a certain feeling of being invincible. I knew I would be fine with my mates.  

What do you remember about coming home?

NR: It was really hard losing my dad when I came home. We just always clicked and knew each other so well. I didn't go to the hospital with him when he was first taken there. My mom rode in the ambulance. I got a phone call that afternoon and my mum was crying her eyes out. She just kept telling me over and over that she needed me there. She never mentioned bringing my sister but I went and got her as well. We got to the hospital and went to the A&E (Accident and Emergency) reception where they told us where my father was. I went up to the ward where they informed me he hadn't gotten there yet. Being in the Fire Service though has its advantages and I already knew my way around the hospital.I walked straight into the A&E department and asked where my dad was. The nurse just told me to wait. She took me to see my mum eventually and she was crying her eyes out. She was just sobbing so hard. I didn’t cry or get upset though. 

My sister started sobbing and was very distraught. I just had this overwhelming feeling that I needed to be strong so I could be the example. The soldier part of me was telling me to get over it and not be weak. I needed to be emotionally solid for my sister. I didn’t cry even at home. I went back to my home at the time and I just felt numb. I couldn't breathe when I eventually did start crying. I had to face it though. I had to soldier on and do what I had to do after that. I remember I had to get his belongings from the hospital and see the undertaker.  My dad passed away on the weekend which is when everything slows down big time at the hospitals. The hospital staff weren’t there to release his body or belongings and the undertaker wasn’t available either. It took several days. My father had been gone two months when I found out my mum was ill. She was complaining of back pain at first which was from a tumor. She found out she had ovarian cancer. 

They started her therapy with acupuncture, reflexology, and physiotherapy along with all sorts of things to relieve the pain. Nothing was working and she was constantly hurting. I ended up just taking her to the doctor and that’s when we found out what it was. The cancer had spread by the time we found out and it was just a matter of time before she passed away. The treatments didn’t do anything at that point. She was terrified of going into a hospice because she thought she would never come out. I remember she told me one day at home though that she felt it was time to go to the hospice to recharge her battery. She never came home. They were giving her morphine and ketamine for the pain in her final days. 

 How can you explain the experience of losing your parents so close together like that?

NR: I think that you have to remain optimistic and you cannot dwell on death. That’s what I had to do when I lost my parents. You may as well give up if you are thinking negatively about it all the time. I just kept saying to my sister, ”We will get through this.” I remained that way even at the point when they told us the chemotherapy didn’t work and she only had a short time to live. I still had to remain optimistic.  I told her that people are told they have a short time to live and sometimes live for years. It did get to a point where my mum's character changed as well. She got quite snappy and angry. I just could see she was just scared of dying. I would give her a bit of reassurance and she would be fine after that. 

My mum and dad were both in their 50s when they died. I was 25 years old and without both of my parents. I began to think to myself that I was halfway done with life. I had an ex, just bought a house and now both my parents were dead. It was like one minute I wanted to live a normal life and then my thoughts would take hold and I’d think about possibly already being halfway through life. I would go back and forth between those two ideas. It did give me perspective though. I am not one to shout about what I have done or have been through and I never will be, but if people ask me then I will be more than happy to talk to them. I don’t need that. People sometimes don’t know what to say and I get asked quite a bit if I’m alright. I don’t think I’ll ever be completely alright after what I went through, but I’m not going to wallow in sadness. I have gone through times where I really struggle and it's usually around the holidays. 

It was right after I lost my mum and dad where I just didn’t even know what to do with my life. My dad was my go to and my best friend and now he was gone. There were two or three times that I just wanted to call him only to realize I couldn’t anymore so I just had to carry on. My friends always tell me they are dreading the day when it happens to them and they lose their parents. It is inevitable, though. It happens to us all. You have to realize how rich your life is and know that you have to move on with it. I don’t know if you ever get over it completely.  It’s a horrible pit of shit to be in when it happens. Cancer is just horrible. It does often give you time to get your life and affairs in order.  We did get our affairs in order and things taken care of like our home.  My sister and I had to look after ourselves. The house I am in now was bought with money that I received from my mum’s life insurance but I would give this house away any moment to have my mom back.  

Can you talk about being a firefighter?

NR: Being a firefighter is one of the best jobs in the world. The similarities to military life are one of the things that I enjoy so much. If you’re lucky enough like I am to have worked on good shifts all your career, then that makes it so much easier. Your shift is like your second family. You look after each other, both in and out of work. You chat about all sorts of topics, personal and ridiculous. You cook for each other, help each other, offer advice on family matters and everyone has the same dark sense of humor you need to get through the tough times, exactly like you need in the military.

Not one day in the job is the same, and that’s what I love about it. The idea of doing repetitive work for eight hours a day is my idea of hell. One day you can be at training school having refresher training, the next day you can get a call at 8 am and not see station again till 9 pm. Each day tests your knowledge, skills and sometimes patience.  The job comes with a sense of pride that you don’t get with many other jobs. You can come away from work some days knowing that you have helped someone that may have never asked for help, because they didn’t want to bother anyone. Or knowing that you have been a role model to a group of kids that have visited station. Although sometimes the initial meeting of that person you have helped may be in horrific circumstances. 

There are of course some really horrible times. More recently the fire service has been called upon to break into houses for the ambulance service. On several occasions this has led to the discovery of people who have passed away or even committed suicide. For me, there’s something more shocking and upsetting about attending these jobs, compared to fires or car crashes. I don’t know if it’s due to the adrenaline not being as high that helps desensitize you as to what’s happening; or if it’s the circumstances that surround these types of jobs that are more upsetting. For example, a young person feeling like suicide is the only option left to them makes me feel very sorry for the family they leave behind. I think as public services are cut more and more, like the police and fire service, the more challenging the job will become. I don’t think many people join the fire service for the money. I know I didn’t even look at the wages when I joined. I imagine most people join the job because they are the kind of person that helps others, and that’s the perfect reasoning for doing it.

What would you say to someone who is looking to get into firefighting?

NR: Firefighting is a brilliant job. Get fit, stay fit and don’t give up on trying. Many people take several attempts to get into the job, so don’t be discouraged if you don’t get in first time. Once you get in, keep your mouth shut, ears open, listen and learn from the people around you. The majority of the time you will be working with very experienced people who will be more than willing to teach you and help you along. Always be the first to volunteer to do things, whatever it may be. And, always shows stacks of enthusiasm. That is all a shift wants from a new recruit, to primarily show that they want to do well. Get that right and everything else will fall into place. 

What’s your favourite aspect of being a firefighter?  

NR: My favorite aspect of being a firefighter has to be attending incidents. It’s what everyone first joins to do. Only when my body gives up on me, and prevents me from doing the job will I consider doing other roles in the fire service. As soon as the bells go off on station your adrenaline is up. Every aspect of the job comes with its own perks and its own sense of fulfilment. That can either be the driver getting to the job safely, as BA wearers, going in to the building that’s on fire or as the officer in charge that is making the decisions on how to bring the incident to a successful conclusion. When the station is busy with incidents there’s a buzz around the shift as well. It is noticeable that everyone’s spirits are up, even though we might all be exhausted and sweaty. 

Can you remember a most fulfilling moment in your experiences as a firefighter?  

NR: I can’t really remember one stand out fulfilling moment as a firefighter, I think each day gives you some sense of fulfilment in various ways and for different reasons. For example, the incident that you came out to us with, as long as it took to get the old lady to talk to us and listen to us, there was a massive sense of fulfilment in knowing that we were going to get her the help that she needed. You can go from something like that, to then going and fitting smoke alarms in a house for someone that could potentially save their lives. The nature of the job is that you help the public and you help each other, so I think the sense of fulfillment gets forgotten about, as it is just seen as part of the job. Having said that, you can’t help but feel fulfilled when you have been faced with a really demanding incident, something that isn’t textbook or you’ve attended before and you deal with it well. The guys just get it done, the team works well and you get good feedback after it. So thinking about it, I feel the most fulfilled when the crew gets to do what we train to do, and we do it well.

What are your long-term goals in life?  

NR: Long-term goals are quite simple really. The first, and most important one, is to have a long and happy, healthy life with my wife and family. I want to always try and better myself, either through practical skills at work, through study and health. I want to find my forever home with my wife, and be as good a parent to any kids we have, as my parents were to me. I want to make lots of amazing memories with the people I care about. Whether that from travelling places or simply being there for a mate when they need someone. I think it comes back to legacy, I want to leave this world behind feeling like I have been the best version of me I could have. The best husband, brother, friend and colleague I could have been.

Can you talk about mental health and why it’s so important to check yourself and your buddies?

NR: Mental health is something that has only become important to me quite recently. It first hit home with me when a good friend of mine who I served with, committed suicide. This guy lived and breathed the military. He had completed a tour of Iraq and Afghanistan, and at the time had just finished a posting to the Army Reserve Training Centre in York as an Infantry Instructor. I think it’s fair to say that no one saw it coming. On Good Friday 2015, we got the news that he had taken himself away, to a quiet part of the countryside and shot himself. We were all devastated. The initial aftermath was of course terrible, but the way everyone came together was so heart-warming to see. With no official word or any kind of plan, we all just seemed to assemble, firstly at a mates house and then at the Barracks. We all told stories, drank, laughed and spoke about how this will never happen again to any of us. 

It was at this point that mental health became a big part of my life. From then on I would speak to people more and ask how they were, how they were coping. I became more understanding of people going through tough times, even if it might seem trivial to most people. Taking that minute or two out of your “busy” day to send a text, make a phone call of have a brew with someone, could be exactly what that person needs, but not be brave enough to ask for.  Unfortunately I didn’t practice what I preached. Over the past 12 months I have only just started to tackle my own demons. Mainly from losing my parents, but I also guess there’s a bit of stuff still hungover from Iraq in there. 

My dad died nine years ago and my mum seven, and it’s taken this long to properly start dealing with how it has affected me. I feel guilty that I miss them, I feel like I should be over the sadness by now, but the fact is, I never will be. I think mental health is a shadow that hangs over all of us. But it’s up to us how much we let that shadow cast its darkness over us. I know that sounds like I am trivialising it, but that’s how I’d describe it if I was asked to. I think I am lucky in the fact that I haven’t let the shadow consume me, like it has others, including a few of my friends. 

The best way to combat mental health is by talking, and realizing that it’s a fight you can’t win unless you accept the fact you’re already losing. As military service members, our first instinct is to fight something that is attacking us. With mental health, if you do that, you will never win. The sooner you accept what’s happening, the better chance you have of winning the fight. I couldn’t be where I am now without the love and support of my wife, my sister, my family and friends. 

What’s been your greatest outlet when you’re feeling down?  

NR: My first go to outlet has to be music. I have quite an eclectic taste in music, and there’s a band or tune for every mood. I didn’t notice that music was my outlet until recently though. Me and the wife were on holiday in Mexico a few years ago, I hadn’t listened to any music for ten days and I was in a right grumpy mood, I put on some music and instantly felt better. One of my other outlets is rugby, although I haven’t played for quite a while, because of a mixture of injury, work and not wanting to get my face smashed in before the wedding. More recently, I have learnt to talk about what’s getting me down sooner. Music and sports is good, but it only really masks the problems, and it doesn’t completely deal with them at the root. I used to go days, weeks and months just stewing on things that used to trouble me. Now I try to talk about them a lot earlier, with my wife, friends or family. This way I actually deal with what it is that’s bothering me, rather than swallowing it down and pushing it to one side.

What do you think needs to improve in the future with the U.K. and the treatment of veterans?  

NR: I have said it already to a few of my friends that have suffered from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) or other mental health issues. The military teaches you how to go from sitting drinking coffee, to killing anything in sight at the snap of the fingers. They never teach you how to leave that lifestyle behind. I imagine the vast majority of the ever increasing number of veterans filling up the U.K. prisons, were locked up due to violence-related crimes. In 2017 it was estimated that there were over 7,000 veterans living on the U.K. streets as well. After the Second World War, soldiers were given jobs to help rebuild the country, or they had jobs to go back to because they were called up originally. Now, veterans are cast aside like miss-shapes (defective) in a biscuit (cookie) factory. They are no use anymore so the nation tends to stop caring about them.

I think that veterans need to be given a focus once they have left the military. Especially those who are being medically discharged and those choosing to leave shortly after coming back from operational tours. Most of the people leaving will not have many tangible skills, or any skills that are useful in Civi Street (civilian world), yet they are the most adaptable, quick thinking and practically gifted people out there. Veterans need to be treated almost like they are leaving school again, and given the same chances at retraining as school leavers (graduating) have; like apprenticeship and other vocational courses. Veterans also need the same access to mental health care as serving personnel. Just because you haven’t suffered immediately from mental health issues, doesn’t mean they won’t affect you later on in life. I have had friends who’ve been refused help from their parent units when they have plucked up the courage to say they are struggling. When they are treated they’re often given a once-over and told, “You look ok to us.”  

Are there any specific veteran organizations you’ve worked with and if so, how was your experience?  

NR: Unfortunately there aren’t really any non-profits I’ve worked with over here. There aren’t many looking to help us U.K. veterans to be honest. One of the guys in the fire service runs a charity called “Sapper Support,” which is a mental health awareness charity that helps service personnel, ex and current, as well as emergency service personnel. I know a few people that have been in contact with them and they have only ever told me good things.

What would you tell anyone thinking about joining the military?

NR: I would seriously consider thinking about what trade you want to commit yourself to in the military. If you seriously want to make a career out of the military, then look at doing a trade that you will enjoy and get a lot of longevity out of. If you want to join the military and aren’t sure what you want to do or how long you want to stay in for, then I would suggest joining a trade that will allow you to gain qualifications that you can use in civilian life. The current culture towards the military personnel in the U.K. is a bit mixed. A long time ago, if an ex-service person was to leave the military they could pretty much walk into any job they want, with the positive reputation that serving in the military came with. Nowadays, that attitude doesn’t exist anymore. The outlook on serving personnel and veterans is quite bleak. For example, if they lose their temper or get mad at something, then an onlooker automatically assumes that guy must have PTSD. Military experience doesn’t really count for anything anymore, that’s why I said to think carefully about what trade you go into when you join the military. 

The view on veterans and serving personnel is improving slowly. There are more and more ways to get support if you need it, however some of these are quite generic and not tailored to the individual that needs help. From my experiences with mental health issues, each person needs to be dealt with as an individual, not as a number in the system. When the individual feels like they are not being treated correctly, this can have the direct opposite effect to helping them, and make them feel worse. However I do think, as a whole, the public of the UK are increasingly showing their support of the military. Every year when I attend Remembrance Day parades, the crowds get bigger and bigger. It’s sad to see the number of WW2 Veterans getting smaller each year, however it is very humbling to see more and more people come to pay their respects each year.     

If there was one negative stereotype you could address concerning veterans that civilians might think is true, what would that be?

NR: I think that most civilians probably think that all we ever want to do is fight, or that we are extremely inappropriate in social situations. I mean, yes, we can be over the top sometimes (laughs), but it is never meant to upset or offend anyone. Military personnel develop a dark sense of humour, or get giddy on nights out. It’s all part of our coping mechanisms. When you come home from Telic (Iraq), you get sent to Cyprus on “Decompression.” Basically, the Army holds you in Cyprus for 36 hours, feeds you with beers and food so you can get all the built up tension out of your system. 

When I went through decompression, I started out with the intention of having one or two social drinks, then going to bed, because I knew what the night was going to turn into. Eight cans of beer later, there are typically about 200 of us naked, singing, partying and dancing on tables. If we were to do that back in the U.K. we’d be kicked out of every bar and never allowed back in. But when you’re with the military, it’s accepted and all part of the tradition. Like I said, it’s never meant to hurt or offend anyone. It’s just how people who work in extreme situations let off steam. That’s alright. 

What does legacy mean to you and how do you want others to view your life?

NR: I guess legacy to me means what you have done in your life to influence others; whether it be friends, family, work or strangers you meet. With my family and friends, I want to be thought of and remembered as trusting, compassionate and the person that would go the extra mile for it if I was required. I said to my sister in-law the other day, “Doing a little bit of the right thing for someone is better than not doing anything at all.” Sometimes it feels like an effort to make a phone call or text to check up on someone, but making that little bit of effort makes all the difference. 

With work I just want to be seen amongst my peers as someone who is good at their job, can be relied upon, and is approachable for advice. At operational incidents with the fire service, people see the uniform and expect you to be able to do all of these things. However when you’re back on station and you know your mates are having a tough time personally, it’s sometimes harder to help out those with problems. Seeing several military friends suffer with mental health issues has made me want to be the person that asks if someone is alright, or if they need any assistance. I think just knowing that someone is bothered about your problems goes a long way to overcoming them.  

Growth can certainly be found in adversity, if we allow it. Through the words of Nathan Rider, you’ve been able to study the perspective of someone who’s experienced distress on a cataclysmic level. Although Rider would never demand that you subscribe to his ideals, he would certainly be proud to share his perspective. That’s the value of our legacy pieces. We experience a collective education through communal ideals of persistence, sacrifice, honor, courage, commitment, love, strength, etc… Those facts can’t be argued. Foundational values are forged through mentorship, then combat, and the return home which varies for every single individual. “Reintegration.” That’s the term utilized the most persistently in the veteran community.

But, what that looks like for each individual veteran differs greatly and that’s something to pause and ruminate on for a bit. We celebrate our differences because our collective fabric is so rich in its strength. We’ve spoken often on the fact that our lives are so different within the community, and that diversity is part of what makes us the most capable allied fighting force in the world. Although the U.K. perspective is not shared as often through the project, we are confident that many of the foundational characteristics you read about through Nathan’s words will resonate with a mostly-American audience. Those values are not exclusive to just the U.S. military and we should be proud of our allies’ contributions to the Global War On Terror.

We can’t forget to thank our friends over at the South Yorkshire Fire Service, who were incredible hosts as we captured Nathan’s life and legacy. We’d also like to thank the company that made this legacy piece possible, The Java Can. Daisson Hickel, owner of The Java Can, is an active duty 7th Special Forces Group soldier who created an outdoorsman’s coffee making product with components that fit entirely in an ammo can. All of our blogs on U.K. Veterans were sponsored The Java Can. Check them out at www.thejavacan.com, on Instagram: @thejavacan, and on Facebook: @thejavacan.