When the World Trade Centre attacks occurred on 11 September 2001 I was just an ordinary unambitious thirty-five year old woman from the North East of England. My lifestyle was distinctly uninspiring and I was lacking selfconfidence. Yet three years later, on 6 August 2004, I was being lowered into war-torn Baghdad by a Black Hawk helicopter, clutching a handful of close protection and firearms certificates. But with the benefit of hindsight, it is easy to see why I ended up in Iraq. Growing up, the biggest influence on my life was my brother John who served in the Royal Corps of Signals and was my inspiration throughout my childhood. A mentor who taught me how to be strong and independent, he was charismatic, a master storyteller and I idolised him. But at the age of fifty he was found dead in his car with a hose running from the exhaust pipe. His suicide was like a malignant growth dramatically affecting my whole relationship with the world. Wherever I was and whatever I was doing his tragic death was always with me. When the opportunity to work in Iraq came along I may not have recognised it at the time but it was a chance to follow in his footsteps, to use everything he had taught me about discipline, training and the importance of humour, even in the darkest of situations. It was a chance to be close to John again. My mission in Iraq was straightforward. I had to ensure the safety of civilian flights from Iraq airport. But the situation in Iraq was one of utter chaos that was continually deteriorating in a terrifying downward spiral. The so-called ‘liberation’ of the country from a vicious dictator was in reality a failure. The invasion was built on a lie, the infrastructure of the country had been destroyed and countless thousands of innocent people were dying.

I saw up close how that chaos affected the lives of ordinary Iraqis who I worked alongside as we tried to bring order and safety to a world where mortar attacks, car bombs and IEDs were a common part of daily life. I would also see how it affected people from all over the world who were caught up in the unfolding catastrophe and I would experience tragedy. My eight-year experience in the Middle East was incredibly testing and life changing in ways I could never have anticipated. Now I have the chance to write about those experiences and I like to think I am telling it as John would have told it; with integrity, a bit of flair and a touch of humour.