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Whenever I went back home to Nottingham, I felt that my eyes had been opened to a whole new way of life. A lot of the guys I had grown up with had simply moved from school into a dead-end job in the local pit or in some dreary factory. The biggest thing they had to talk about was that they were going out with a new girl, or had started drinking in a different pub. When they asked me what I’d been doing, I was able to say that I’d been potholing, or shooting, or climbing. I felt my life was fuller as a result of being a junior soldier, and it spurred me on. I may have been young, but I knew how I wanted things to pan out.
I wanted to progress to the full-blown Parachute Regiment. To don the red beret.
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