Soldiering On - A

Journey With PTSD

By
Nathan Bate
Soldiering On - A Journey With PTSD
ISBN: 978-1-7391178-0-1
First published in Great Britain in 2022 self-publishing service
Copyright © for this book is owned by Nathan Bate
The author has asserted their right under the Copyright, Design and
Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade
or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the
author’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover and without a similar
condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent
publisher.
The author has asserted their right under the Copyright, Design and
Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
Disclaimer: real names/places have been changed to protect the identities.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade
or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the
author’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover and without a similar
condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent
publisher.
Produced by samanthahoughton.co.uk
The author has changed names and locations to protect the identities of
parties that do not wish to be named or identified.
This book contains general information about PTSD and Anxiety Disorder
based on the author’s experience. It is not meant as medical advice,
diagnosis or treatment, and you must not rely on the information in this
book as an alternative or substitute to medical advice from your doctor or
other professional healthcare providers. If you have any concerns or
questions regarding your health or that of your children or adults within
your care, you should seek advice from your doctor.
If you think you may be suffering from any medical condition, you should
seek immediate attention from your doctor or other professional healthcare
providers. You should never delay seeking medical advice, disregard
medical advice or discontinue medical treatment based on information in
this book.
To the extent that you rely on any information in this book, you assume all
risks involved in such reliance.
 Dedication

For Pte Lee Harrison 1 Staffords and WO2 Ian

Fisher 3 Mercian (Staffords) - two wonderful men
and brilliant soldiers…

And to anyone facing their battle with mental health

and those who have lost their fight with those
demons.

You are now at peace; God bless.

iii
Contents
 Acknowledgements

I want to thank David Karling from Newcastle Plumbing

and Heating for your continued support and encouragement
and for sharing your own story with me. 
Also to: 
Darren Brookes, for your inspiration, positivity and being
an overall nice guy. 
Samantha Houghton, for helping me to turn my story
into this magical creation. 
And finally, my wife, Emma. You make my life worth
living; your continued support, love and devotion to me is
amazing. You picked me up when I was down, supported me
and helped me along my journey. You are always by my side,
and I hope to continue my journey with you for the rest of my
life. You are the greatest - thank you. I love you always. 

v
 Foreword

I have known Nathan for several years since we both lived

in the Midlands, and we have maintained our friendship as
we drifted north. We met through our membership with The
Royal British Legion’s Riders Branch. Although we both had
closer friends, Nathan always felt comfortable coming to me
when he was in crisis. I am unsure whether this is because
he could rely on that Midlands straight-talking honesty or
just his trust in our friendship and my opinion.
My background is not in the military. I volunteered with
the Royal British Legion, and about 99% of my friends are
from there. I found a sense of brotherhood that I had never
encountered before with people who shared the same values
and sense of humour as I do but, most importantly, a level of
trust. The fact that I have not served allows me to bring a
different perspective to the table, and it certainly helped me
support those who need help with the “civvy” perspective.
I think this is one of the reasons why Nathan and I grew a
stronger bond.
As you will read throughout the book, Nathan is one
of those people who has a habit of saying the wrong thing
and getting himself into situations. In my experience with
Nathan, they are not sensational Hollywood-type scenarios

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Nathan Bate

he finds himself in but the everyday ones you hear about

from your circle of friends. The only difference is Nathan
top trumps your friends because he’s a one-stop shop for
trouble! Whether it be his demons, relationship issues,
housing difficulties - you name it, it’s probably happened to
him! I dread and love his calls in equal measure as I never
know what on earth they will entail.
You probably wonder why I and many others still call him
‘friend and brother’. Let me tell you, many do with pride, and
it’s why I agreed to write this foreword and support him in his
efforts to make this book a success. When the world kicks
his arse into the gutter, he sucks it up, puts on his boots and
fights back! He’s not a quitter; he looks at himself and tries
to work out what he needs to do to claw his way back to
normality. He’s one of life’s triers, and he keeps going when
most people in his situation would give up. He’s learnt that
sometimes he can’t do it independently and to ask for help.
I was fortunate to be at his first public speaking event,
where he talked about his book and story. I knew then that
this book was a way to help Nathan and others work through
their difficulties. The book’s storyline sees Nathan as a young
boy, just 16, joining the army and leaving behind everything
he has ever known. He joins the army under the shadow of
his father, who Nathan looked up to as a model soldier. The
army is not exactly what Nathan expects, and he finds he
is not like the other lads and feels he does not fit in straight
away. With this in mind, Nathan puts himself under immense
pressure to become a soldier his father will be proud of.
As the book progresses, Nathan continues to struggle
with his experiences in the army. This only worsens when he

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 Soldiering On - A Journey With PTSD

leaves as he finds he does not fit in the civilian world either.

Nathan starts to experience severe PTSD, causing him to
have flashbacks.
The book is a deeply personal and honest description
of how one man is working through his journey from the
army to civilian life while trying to manage his symptoms of
PTSD. It is an eye-opening account. It deserves to be read
by anyone looking for tools to help themselves, who wish to
work with people with mental health difficulties, or who are
ex-military personnel.
I know it won’t be a ‘cure for all’ and Nathan’s battles
won’t be won in one fell swoop. I know he will continue to
have his trials and be tested by them. However - I also know
he will continue to adapt and overcome.

Lee Gardner
Vice Chairman
Royal British Legion Riders Branch

ix
 Preface

I have struggled with my mental health for many years

and did not think I would ever find a way out or be able to
control it. My mental health meant I lost jobs, relationships,
and homes, slept rough, tried to take my own life and
nearly ended up in prison. I later found out I had PTSD and
anxiety disorder. But before that diagnosis, I had no coping
mechanisms to deal with life on a day-to-day basis. Nothing
made sense; some days it still doesn’t. But from a very dark
moment came a glimmer of light when I was offered the
chance to go to the Battle Back Centre instead of a prison
sentence.
The centre works with serving military and veterans
and provides rehabilitation and resettlement, which you will
discover in this book. One of their coaches introduced me to
the benefits of journaling to channel my intrusive thoughts
and deal with bursts of anger. It taught me I could clear my
mind by getting rid of all of the negative emotions on paper
in my times of desperation. Over days, weeks and months,
I soon discovered I had written down quite a lot and was
finding the process therapeutic. It was suggested by my very
wise wife, Emma, that I should perhaps share my story by
writing a book.

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Nathan Bate

I turned my notes into ‘Adapt and Overcome’, a profoundly

therapeutic journey to sharing my experiences with the army
leading to my battle with mental health. The process became
a happy and healing experience. I found reflective writing a
source of emotional release, which kept me calm and helped
me cope. When times are challenging, I know I have this
strategy, amongst others, to utilise.
You are about to read the story of my life in my own words
in black, white and true technicolour, and I hope what you
take away from this is that if you are struggling, do not suffer
in silence as I did. Do not be embarrassed or have too much
pride to speak up, as help is available for you. The charity
Mind states that 1 in 4 people in England will experience a
mental health difficulty each year. If this is you, my intention
is for my book to give you hope, provide a dose of humour
and show you there is a way forward.
Sit back, relax, get reading and let me help you to ‘Adapt
and Overcome’.

Nathan Bate, 2022

xii
 Part One

Adapting to a Soldier
The Bate Siblings in the early 80s in the family home in
Wolverhampton (Lavandra, Kenwyn and Nathan)
CHAPTER 1:   Just a Naïve Boy

It was the summer of 1996, and I was a naïve sixteen-

year-old boy with no idea of what the world had in store for
me as I embarked on my journey into the army. The reality for
me, which I later realised, was that I was leaving the civilian
world behind, and I would never feel connected to it again in
the same way I had as a child.
As my parents were preparing to drop me off at the train
station in Wolverhampton, I felt a type of fear I had never
experienced before, knowing I was leaving my friends and
family behind. Although I might be alone at that time, I didn’t
realise that whatever happened from this day forward, I
would not truly be on my own again.
I came from a tight-knit family focused unit. I had my
older sister Lavandra and a younger brother Kenwyn whom
I had grown up with. We were very close. My parents were
very old school and very protective, especially since my
brother had severe disabilities after hospital neglect left him
without oxygen, leaving his brain damaged. However, he was
everyone’s world, and all of our memories growing up are a
mix of eccentric and hilarious because of him and the trouble
we all got up to. One of my fondest memories was a late-
night game we all invented called ‘Tarty Racing.’ It involved

3
Nathan Bate

us slamming jam tarts against the wall and watching whose

jam tart would run down the wall the fastest - much to our
parents’ dismay. Lavandra and I also thought we were born
entertainers and would always perform; we would set up
the camcorder and re-enact entire films, with Grease being
an all-time favourite. It came back to haunt me as an adult,
particularly as my friends from my regiment met my sister,
and she shared these memories; oh, and when I got married
- it turns out wives never forget anything embarrassing, as I
am sure many of you know.
The journey to the station was speedy, and I sat there
anxious, apprehensive, and confused as I did not know what
to expect and how to behave. My family was not good at
showing emotions this way; we laugh when we feel awkward
and shout when someone is hurt as we don’t know what to
do. I can remember Lavandra falling down the stairs and
dad shouting at her, not because he is mean but because
he panics and doesn’t know how to consider the possibility
that she might have hurt herself. So, right there at the train
station, as I got out of the car, it was a quick, emotionless
goodbye to my parents, no hugs, and a fist bump for Kenwyn,
who probably didn’t give a toss that I was leaving home. If
you asked Kenwyn now (he’s non-verbal), he would probably
sign to you he was looking forward to the peace and quiet.
I grabbed my case out of the boot of dad’s car; he had a
Rover 600 at the time (Dad recalls time periods by the car he
had, and he has had some crackers). Once I had my case, I
headed to the platform to board the train to Lichfield. It was
the same journey I had completed for my selection only a
few weeks prior.

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 Soldiering On - A Journey With PTSD

As I stood on the train platform alone, the terror kicked

in more. It was only weeks since I had left high school, and I
was about to leave the safety of my home and family for the
unknown. I had some stories I remembered that my dad had
told me about his time in the army from the 1950s, “when they
needed them, not when they feeded them.” My dad would say
things like this all the time, and back then, I was not entirely
sure I knew what he meant. He didn’t much talk about his
experiences in the army, he spoke more about how a soldier
should behave, and I felt a lot of pressure to do well. I wanted
to make my dad proud, be a good soldier, keep my uniform
smart, tidy my bed space, and always be presentable. But
how could I go from a schoolboy, something I had not been
very good at, to this unknown ideal of a professional soldier?
My selection day at Whittington Barracks had been an
interesting one. We were issued a number to wear, which we
were then known by for the next 24 hours. The purpose of a
number was to depersonalise us and let us know we were no
longer people; we were soldiers and belonged to the army.
Even back then, at 16 years old, I understood even if I didn’t
have the words (depersonalise) to describe what they were
doing, I was quite happy to be stripped down to being just
a soldier. Even then, I struggled with my identity; kids had
bullied me at school, I wasn’t popular, and this was like a
do-over.
Staff members showed us where we would sleep, eat
and rest, but we were under constant observation as part
of the overall test conditions. The army fitness test included
a 1.5-mile run which we had to complete in 10 minutes or
less; do as many pull-ups, sit ups and press-ups possible in

5
Nathan Bate

an allotted time; then have a medical examination. Once I

finished the fitness test and went to the medical examination,
I was surprised when I found out what “cough and drop”
meant! For anyone unsure of this medical procedure, it is
common practice to check the health of the testicles and
look for hernias. At age 16, this was not something I had
experienced before, and surely it would have been a concern
if a middle-aged man in uniform had asked to cup my balls
at school! I was still a very innocent 16-year-old; my balls
had not been near any hands except my own! Once I had
passed my medical examination, I was allowed to return to
the accommodation with my group to relax. The following
day was our interview which was the final stage of selection.
It was hard to sleep that night in a room that sleeps 15,
especially when someone decided it would be fun to sing,
and later someone else started telling jokes. That turned
out to be contagious, and everyone started to share what
seemed to be the worst or rudest jokes. Most of which I
didn’t understand back then, not that I admitted to that. I
was the youngest, just a child; everyone else was a grown
man, which made me feel nervous and like I had imposter
syndrome. I suppose I was a bit homesick too, but the next
day I got myself washed and dressed, tidied all my bedding
away, ensured any housekeeping was carried out, and then
took myself off to the cookhouse. One thing that will never
change is that I will never miss a meal. The great thing about
all the exercise in the army was how the calories burned
off! The problem was the lack of discipline upon leaving the
army. I will spare you the before and after pictures and save
them for your imagination, or you can stalk my social media.

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 Soldiering On - A Journey With PTSD

Once we had breakfast, we were escorted to the NAAFI

(military social club), where we were (supposedly) to chill
out and await to be called for interviews. Eventually, it was
my turn. One of the questions was about my background, but
as I had just left school, I struggled to answer in-depth and
worried that I had messed it up. But thankfully, they told me
there and then that they accepted my application and that I
would be reporting for basic training in August. I signed the
dotted line, took my Oath of Allegiance, and took the queen’s
shilling, which was £15 if I remember rightly.
Now I was about to do it for real. The train pulled into the
station, and I got on board. On the journey to Lichfield, I was
too nervous about moving or speaking to anyone. I sit rigidly
on my seat, just waiting to arrive at my destination. I heard
the announcement that we were approaching Lichfield, and
moments later, I disembarked the train. My instructions were
to get into Lichfield for 10.00hrs and liaise with the awaiting
coaches. That was all I had to follow, which wasn’t much, but
it was what I had, so I was keen to show that I could follow
instructions and get to where I needed to be. Then I made
my first mistake…

7
Basic Training Whittington Barracks Lichfield 1996.
Nathan is ready for locker inspection.
CHAPTER 2:  Organised Chaos

Arriving at Lichfield train station was a very intimidating

experience. The smells, sounds and crowds were totally
overwhelming. Many people were rushing about on their
daily commute to their offices; people were carrying large
bags whilst juggling freshly brewed cups of coffee from the
kiosk amidst the hum of muffled voices, the noise of the trains,
whistles blowing, and footsteps running. I was still a small
lad at 16 (not the big hunk I am now) and was being bounced
around between the masses of people, losing my sense of
direction and struggling to carry all of my belongings in what
seemed like an impossibly large suitcase. I tried to focus on
getting to the front of the station at Lichfield at 10:00 am to
find my coach.
After fighting through the mass of people, I got to the
coach as per my instructions. My name was checked off on
the list, “Nathan Bate, here for basic training, sir.”
The response was, “knob, it’s Corporal; I work for a
living.”
Embarrassed and unsure of what to say next, I just
nodded, climbed on board and took my window seat in the
centre of the coach. It would appear I was not the only one to
call the Corporal sir - he must have given out the “I work for a