I risked my life for this country - no one prepared me for what came after
People served this country. Many were left dealing with the consequences long after they left the military. That should be recognised properly, writes Paul Rees
I was prepared for war. I was not prepared for what came next. I joined the Army young. I found structure, purpose, and belonging. Like most lads, I thought the hard part would be the job itself. It was not.
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In 2001, during operations in Bosnia, the vehicle I was in hit an anti-personnel mine. I woke up in a German field hospital with a fractured spine. Paralysed from the waist down. I was 29.
That ended my career overnight.
What followed was something no one really talks about. You leave the Armed Forces and the message is clear. Get on with it. Do not complain. Crack on. That mindset is drilled into you. It does not switch off just because you are injured.
But the reality is this. You are not the same person any more.
Years later, I was working in Libya during the 2011 uprising. I was identified on state television. A $100,000 bounty was put on my head. Not long after, I was taken. I was held captive for 21 days. Beaten. Humiliated. Unsure if I would survive.
I got out. But you do not walk away from things like that. They stay with you. That is the part people do not see.
They see the moment. The explosion. The headline. What they do not see is the aftermath. The years of dealing with it. The impact on how you think, how you live, how you connect with people.
Twenty-five years on from Bosnia, I am speaking now because too many veterans are still going through this in silence.
I now work at Veterans for Veterans. Every day I speak to former service personnel dealing with the long-term effects of their service. Hearing loss from repeated exposure on ranges and exercises. Cold injuries from long periods in the field. Conditions that build slowly and are often dismissed. These are not rare cases. They are common.
People served this country. Many were left dealing with the consequences long after they left the military. That should be recognised properly. There also needs to be a change in attitude. Silence is not strength. It is avoidance. Speaking up is not weakness. It is taking control.
If telling my story gets even one veteran to come forward and deal with what they are carrying, then it is worth it.
The full video interview is available here, where I speak openly about Bosnia, Libya, and everything that followed.
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Paul Rees currently works at Veterans for Veterans, supporting former service personnel navigating injury, trauma and life after discharge.
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