Draw Down...A New Pivot Challenge
Leaving the RAF, even for what may have been just a couple of months under the PVR rejoin option, felt harsh for me. The right thing to do as the family unit had met its final stage and getting my wife and two boys settled back in was the focus.
So, we got back to the UK, and for a short period, we all lived in an annexe to my in-law’s home whilst our worldly goods arrived and got stowed. It was an awkward time, naturally, living with my wife’s parents who hadn’t really seen this coming and felt I had had some kind of breakdown.
About 6 weeks into this resettlement period, we (my wife and I) agreed that it was time for me to go back to my beloved RAF career as our levels of angst had risen in the situation we were in.
So, I made the call, a particular number in respect to those PVRing and looking to return within the allowed timescale.
“Name, Rank, Service Number” the call taker requested.
Furnishing them with the necessary details, I waited for confirmation of my return.
“Ah….have you not been watching the news?” came the response.
There was a long silence as I tried to understand what they meant.
“Ermm…no, I have been settling my family here in readiness to return…”
“Well, while you have been doing that there has been a directive called “Draw Down” in which we are making 10,000 service personnel redundant…that means in your case there is no longer an option to return to your 22-year contract.”
Total manpower was cut by approximately 18 per cent to around 255,000 (120,000 army; 60,000 navy; 75,000 air force).
I was speechless…my hand had tightened on the telephone receiver (back when phones were connected by wires lol) and felt my world imploding.
“So….no go….no option to return to service?” I stammered.
“I am afraid not, but we wish you well in your new life.”
“Fuck!” Slamming the phone down to say I was distressed would be an understatement…what now? I/we couldn’t continue living like this, we were both aware of the impact our constant bickering would have on the boys and indeed the in-laws.
If I wasn’t depressed before, I certainly was after that phone call.
Appraising my wife and her parents of the situation kinda went down like a lead balloon, which was understandable.
To be honest, I spent a few days wiping it all out with alcohol. And then seeking medical advice…tablets were their answer but all they succeeded in doing was transforming me into a zombie.
Action and pivoting were on the menu again.
I discarded the medication and focused on my next move.
Within a week or so, I landed on an advert for a House of Fraser Hull Security Manager…surely my background would lend itself to that?
Sure enough, interview and acceptance came pretty quickly after that and I became the Manager of a team that deterred and detected theft both internally and externally.
Securing the position was only part of my game plan, I needed to look for new digs. I was only too aware of how much disruption my being “around” meant to my family, so I sought out a cheap and cheerful flat in a location within walking distance of my new workplace.
The flat was at the top of an old Victorian building that had been renovated into student flats, I was “in the gods”. Don’t get me wrong, it had a bedroom, a living room space and a kitchen/bathroom (the bathroom area was separated by a folding door from the kitchen)…it had all you needed as a single person to get by and was cheap enough.
Unfortunately, these were not ideal digs for contact with my boys…we did it but room was at a premium.
My new life in “civvy street” had begun and there were threads of my old life still lingering…I found it difficult to adjust in many ways…civilians didn’t seem, on the whole, to have the same work ethic instilled under a military regime.
But, pivoting was by now, my middle name and it was a necessity.
As Security Manager of a retail store under the banner of the House of Fraser, was quite an accolade back then and I made every effort to ensure myself and my team shone out as an example.
We had to bond with the “Shop Squad”, Police in civilian clothing that worked with the town retail outlets in the fight against crime. This part I found second nature as many of them had a similar military-style ethos.
Time ticked by and I learnt who the known criminals were and what their Modus Operandi was.
My team were very dedicated and included two ex-forces guys, one who was full-time and one who was part-time, the latter also pulling another job as a postman so could only drop in to work after his postal shift.
I also had three females on the team, they were brilliant and at no detriment were “hard as nails”. One had been a store detective for over 20 years, one a part-time bar worker and one had been in retail in one form or another for several decades also…the latter was, I found out, a “rottweiler” when it came to tracking and apprehending thieves…she would never give up until she had them locked up.
I knew and worked with all of these peeps
Each store had goals to meet, mainly ensuring a below 3% “shrinkage” figure which included both internal and external theft. The store I was Security Manager of was running at 5% shrinkage when I took it on. In honesty, the city was rife with crime. Callouts to break-ins or attempted ones were a regular occurrence.
Our store had massive plate glass display areas but these proved enticing to the local thieves and didn’t take much to pop with or without a vehicle.
I approached the local council about installing a bollard system in the line in front of all of our windows to try and reduce the almost “drive-by” robberies…well they gave permission and also a small financial assistance to the project so that was something and helped reduce those type of robberies.
We set up a City Centre Watch system that connected both the major retailers that were regular targets of theft and the Shop Squad, enhancing our detect or deter methods…innovative at the time but I presume a norm in this day and age.
I will point out, that whilst this was a great career option, it still paled into insignificance to my former military career, as was.
Anyway, on a personal level, my divorce was due to go through…a time of reminiscing as to why and what and mostly I blamed myself but also realised we had, and we both agreed, gotten married far too early.
Around that time I struck up a friendship with one of the shop assistants in the store…a friendship which initially was difficult for me given my desire to maintain a positive connection with my boys…I couldn’t validate a new woman in my life to them when they were only 5 years and 9 years old…too soon.
Christmas was coming and that already felt odd not totally being there for my boys…
Until Next Time
Make sure you check out next week’s issue:
“The Christmas Shop”
“An Ultimatum”
and
“Mr Farenheit”
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