Ever since I was a young boy I always knew what I wanted to become when I was older. A soldier. Growing up in Northern Ireland, it wasn’t strange seeing soldiers on the streets on a regular basis. So when I was old enough, I knew what I was going to do.
I remember listening to my father’s stories, particularly one story about an uncle who served in the Irish Defence Forces. After more research, I decided I was going to do the same.
I joined the Defence Forces in 1997. My initial contract was for three years. At that time there weren’t many opportunities for career advancement in the Defence Forces, so I decided to leave.
I moved back home to Co Antrim. I stayed in employment for those couple of years doing numerous dead-end jobs. I soon got bored with civvi life, moving from job to job. When I was back home I met my beautiful wife, Denise, and she soon fell pregnant with my first son Liam.
I began basic training for a second time. Albeit with a different army, the fundamentals were basically the same
One day I told her I planned to rejoin the army, which she fully supported. So in in 2002, and with tensions running high in the Middle East, I joined the Royal Irish Regiment.
In September of that year, I began basic training for a second time. Albeit with a different army, the fundamentals were basically the same. My passing-off parade was on the same day as my son’s first birthday, so it was a double celebration that day.
We were told after we finished our basic training that we would be deploying to Iraq immediately. I soon found myself in the thick of things. My regiment was the first to cross the Iraq border from Kuwait in the invasion of Iraq. We spent three months there, pushing the Iraq army all the way from Basra right up to Al Amarah, where we took over the local football stadium and used it as an operations base. We were eventually relieved by another unit and we returned to our home base.
I went back to Iraq in 2005 and 2006, when the insurgency war was at its highest. Many units lost men during that time, but my unit didn’t lose a single man. As my commanding officer said, it must have been the luck of the Irish.
After various other tours of duty and overseas exercises, I felt the time was right to leave the army, especially after my second son Keelan was born. Not long after I left, I noticed a private security company was recruiting for guys to protect merchant vessels against violent Somali pirates in the Indian Ocean. The money was good, so I went for it.
I served on dozens of ships, repelled numerous attacks from the pirates, and made some very good friends in-between. I had the opportunity to visit some amazing and beautiful countries whilst the ships were in port loading up their cargo – Madagascar, Mozambique, Kenya and Sri Lanka, to name but a few.
2015 saw a massive downturn in the maritime security industry. Wages were dropping by the month as employers located guys in Eastern Europe and India who would do the work for lower wages. It was time to look for another job. I had a mortgage and family to provide for.
In May 2015 I found myself back in Iraq, Baghdad to be precise. I got a job as a bodyguard to a very senior diplomat, protecting him whenever he travelled to meetings in the city and further afield when he went to to different provinces all over Iraq.
My current contract has me away from home for eight weeks at a time, but then I get four weeks off to enjoy with my family.
My first son, Liam, has just turned 16. He plans to follow in my footsteps and join the Defence Forces when he is old enough to apply, hopefully entering as a junior officer if he gets accepted into a cadetship.
Keelan, my younger son, is now 11 and starts high school next year. I know it’s hard for both of them having their dad away for long periods at a time, but I get to talk to them every day I’m away. This makes it a little easier, but it still hurts not being with them, especially if I’m away over their birthdays or Christmas.
If it wasn’t for my wife, doing what I do would not be possible. She is happy with me being away for the time being, but as soon as that changes then it’s time for me to come home again.
Who knows where I will be next year or the year after, probably in another war-torn country, but there is one thing I know for sure, I will always call Ireland my home.
