The end of the relationship: the reality of ‘moving on’

Brian Howeison was a regular officer in the RAF for 19 years. During his time as a weapon systems officer he amassed 3,500 hours on the Nimrod MR2 and R1 aircraft, seeing active service in the First Gulf War, Kosovo and UN operations over Iraq. Becoming a Defence Fellow in 2002, he has BSc, MBA and MPhil degrees, and a PhD from the University of Edinburgh for research into leadership and goal setting. He left the RAF on PVR in December 2005 to take up the post of Head of Education and Professional Development for the RoyalCollege of Physicians and Surgeons. This is his story.

For me, the RAF was – and will always remain – one of the most significant relationships in my life. At the physical level, the attraction was huge – the uniform, image and associated hardware. Initially I loved the lifestyle and everything that went with it. At the emotional level, it was deadly serious; it consumed me, was ever present, provided huge highs, contributed to some significant lows, and demanded a huge life-investment on my part.

After about 13 years, however, something changed – doubts started to arise. I am not sure if they were intellectual, emotional or moral, but something was not right. Did I really see myself doing this for 30 more years? I felt slightly trapped; as a WSO, I was highly trained for a job, which simply had no future. Being committed to my personal and intellectual development, I really wondered where this relationship was going.

This phase of uncertainty lasted for about two years before I realised that the relationship was no longer working. The attraction, fit and emotional bond started to wane. I felt the need to separate and rediscover my personal identity, self-worth and, perhaps, self-esteem. Therefore, and over a period of time, I made the conscious decision to leave and to try something new. Although this was a big step, it became almost exciting. Undoubtedly, an emotional break had to be made and, like the end of a marriage, there was pain. Indeed, this did not happen overnight. From deciding to leave to actually leaving took almost three years.

Once the decision was made, I judged that it was important to be realistic about future roles and jobs, and accept that I was not going to be headhunted into the City of London on £100,000. Moreover, I didn’t really want that. As there were many unknowns and uncertainties, I produced a plan to try to take control and to minimise them. I was still under 40 and hoping for a new career so I spent a significant amount of time thinking about and answering some very serious and at times, difficult questions:

·How do I want to live?

·What do I want to be?

·What do I want to do?

·Where do I want to do it?

·When do I want to do it?

After lengthy analysis, the answers started to become very clear:

·I wanted full-time employment with sufficient time off to pursue personal interests; work–life balance is very important to me

·I wanted to be a civilian

·I wanted to work in the public or third sectors, helping others develop professionally

·I wanted to live in the central belt of Scotland (this is the region where I grew up and it is also where the jobs are)

·I wanted to be a civilian when I was ready; after 18 years, I was determined that I would leave on my terms and when I was ready.

I also had to determine my future standard of living. Although helped by a pension and gratuity, I established a base-level salary that I thought necessary to live on. If you really strip it down, it is not that much. The process started to become interesting and almost exciting. There was a new life coming up: new people, huge opportunities, new routines, different mindsets and cultures, and new and significant challenges. My next step was to buy a house in the area that I wanted to live and work in, and integrate myself into the community; this really helped with the socialisation process in becoming a civilian.

In terms of career planning, other difficulties arose. I knew little about CVs or the labour market and how to access it. There were many books available on the subject of CVs and even more organisations charging huge fees to help with preparing one, but I concluded that a CV is all about knowledge, skills and experience. Therefore, I tried to establish the gaps in my CV and consider what could I do about them. For the job market, I gave much thought to the private sector, the public sector and the not-for-profit, voluntary, third sector. What were the differences between them and where did I see myself working?

Effectively we have full employment in the UK, but I discovered that only 20% of all available jobs are advertised. So 80% of all available jobs are in the unadvertised, or ‘hidden’, job market. I did not know what this market was and had absolutely no idea how to access it. I now know that it is made up of job banks (the internet), agencies, executive search and selection (headhunters), personal contacts and networking. Due to equality opportunity legislation, all public-sector jobs are advertised, but I am not so sure about the private sector – and that is where personal contacts and networking are absolutely vital.

On Monday 12December 2005, some four months before I officially left the RAF (taking into account terminal leave, resettlement and annual leave), I started a new career. It was all very surreal. I was in uniform on the Friday and standing at the train station on the Monday morning, waiting to commute into the city. There were lots of other people there; in fact, a small community. The first thing that dawned on me was that these people had been, were, and would continue to work without the security of HM Forces. It quickly occurred to me that in the military we are sometimes too protected; there are millions of people in the UK going about their daily business and earning a living, albeit some better than others. So, why can we feel so scared about the prospect of becoming a civilian? Maybe we become too institutionalised too quickly.

Within the work environment itself, several areas became apparent very quickly. I always thought that the Services had the best people in the UK. That is not true. While we have some great operators, I am struck regularly by the professionalism, output, capabilities and talents of the people I meet and work with from a wide variety of backgrounds. I now have minimal security; indeed, maximal insecurity. I really think that civilians accept living this way and just get on with it. I have met people who have been made redundant two or three times; they go through a bad experience and recover. I cannot be passed over and remain in employment; if I do not perform, I will be moved on and ‘performance managed out the door’.

Employment law is such that one could be invited to leave the organisation within the first 12 months of employment. This actually happened to a colleague who started just before me. This person was invited to see the chief executive on Friday afternoon and we never heard from her again. This made me feel somewhat twitchy – I had exchanged a regular job with the RAF for one I could be out of with no prior warning of any kind. Welfare and the associated support is limited. While my employer has a legal duty of care over me, there is not the equivalent of SSAFA or a padre employed by the organisation. You are very much on your own.

There are absolutely no early finishes on a Friday or time off, on duty, to do sport, education or anything similar. Many people know little about the military, and huge and unfair stereotypes exist about the skills we have and what we can offer. For those leaving the military with fragile identities and self-worth, this could prove to be very difficult. Vastly different management styles are required. In the civilian world, there is little rank and, where it exists, most people are unimpressed by it. My subordinates (I dare not use this word) will openly disagree, and a huge amount of coaching, persuasion, influencing and negotiating skills are required on my part.

Although I had zero commercial experience, I had to be proactive about my pension. Although my employer has a company scheme, the onus was very much on me to get it sorted out and to start making regular contributions.

We all have to leave HM Forces at some point, either voluntarily or compulsorily. For those who are not completely retiring, it is vital to plan and be proactive. If your military career is coming to an end, accept that it is over and look forward. Aim for a clear break from the outset. Rather than remain in the past, think about and embrace the opportunities that lie ahead. It is very easy to remain in our comfort zone. However, we do not learn in this zone. In the Armed Forces, we are trained to be flexible and adaptable and, with attitude and application on our part, we can and will succeed. There is a big world out there with plenty of opportunities; they are there to be taken.