| Introduction
Communities
and Local Government (opens in another window )
Service Personnel and Veterans Agency
Ex-Service Action Group on Homelessness
Directory Services (help, advice, support, accomodation
etc)
Veterans Policy
Unit
No Home But Not
Alone / Finding Homes Fit For Forces Heroes / Help
for homeless veterans
Last month, Focus investigated what MOD is doing
to combat the problem of ex-servicemen sleeping rough. In the conclusion
of our two-part special, Lorraine McBride visits homeless charity Home Base
who provide emergency accommodation and therapy for ex-servicemen on the
breadline.
 It
's an irony that the Home Base charity, which prides itself on putting a
roof over the heads of homeless soldiers is itself, homed in such a dingy,
grimy, basement in Hammersmith.
Every inch of desk space crammed with case files
speaks volumes for the workload of the tiny, passionately committed team,
who work tirelessly for the cause of people who would otherwise sleep on
our streets.
The staff vow not to get emotionally involved but sometimes, they cannot
help themselves.
Protected
"The stories we hear can be quite heartbreaking," says acting manager
Kevin Knottley who knows all about their troubled childhoods, fears and complex
problems and why so many youngsters leave home at 16 searching for an identity.
"They've just left school, they've not lived
alone. They've always been protected. When they joined the army, they were
stamped with an identify that sticks with them for life."
The charity gets around two enquiries each week
but get more people applying than they can accommodate. A trouble and a strength
is that people need only have served a day to qualify "and that's whether
you've done one day or 30 years," explains Kevin who often has to be
a good listener, social worker and psychiatrist rolled into one, despite
barely looking older than his young former soldiers.
Initially, his clients are a mess; lonely but
incapable of commitment. They're sad, anxious and struggle to get out of
bed to pay a bill, fill out a form, get a job or obtain a skill. Kevin gives
them his mobile number, has time for everyone and is a passionate advocate
of taking therapy outside the therapy room because, as he affirms clients
often don't turn up to meetings.
 One
service survivor, Stephen Anderson told Focus last month:
"Army life will never leave me. When I walk down the street, it's always
stomach in, chest out and my soul is on parade. As a little boy, I had action
man, tanks and a camouflage uniform, then I joined the cadets before I joined
the real thing. After four-and-a-half years service, I got a medical discharge.
When I found out my career was over, my heart was racing mad, I didn't know
what to do."
Eighteen months ago everything came down on top
of Stephen, who approached Combat Stress.
"I was extremely depressed with thoughts
of suicide and they put me in touch with Home Base who helped me 100 per
cent. They mean it from their heart and are a very professional organisation.
They're just great people."
Stephen was one of the lucky ones. After becoming
homeless when he left the forces, he found a helping hand from Home Base
and now life is looking up.
"My dream is to go back into the army. The
forces gave me the option of a pre-release course for civvy street, but I
was too pissed off to go.
"Every individual is different. It depends how long you serve and I'm
more moulded to military life than civilian. I'm 39 and my life is irreversible.
But I'm a confident person and I plan to be on a cruise ship over the next
year travelling tax-free. Who knows ? I might even find a wife."
Home Base aims to house people for up to two years
and their success rate is an inspirational 85 per cent. "We have only
21 places," says Kevin, aware this is the tip of the ice-burg. "We
see the ones who are desperate."
 Kevin
believes that the MOD doesn’t always get it right and that fellow forces
charity, Combat Stress desperately needs to expand their worthy service for
servicemen suffering post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) - a MOD-recognised
condition that leaves their nerves in tatters.
As ever the charity world survives on shoe-string
budgets and fund-raising remains critical. Robert Marsh, Director of fundraising
for Combat Stress told Focus:
"Income from the Service Personnel and Veterans Agency to fund
the cost of treatment and travel for qualifying war veterans is vital to
the society. Our relationship with MOD is positive - it has to be because
they gave us £2.8 million last year."
Back at Home Base, one of Kevin's current clients
became a bus driver and was attacked by a mentally ill man wielding a knife.
Soon after, he began to suffer from flashbacks from his days patrolling the
streets in Belfast, split up with his girlfriend and developed agoraphobia.
He feared that if somebody attacked him, he'd lose control and seriously
hurt them.
Metamorphosis
Slowly, he has regained self-control, attended training programmes and rekindled
relationships and Kevin is rightly proud of his metamorphosis.
"I'm sure that war has a powerful impact
on people," he says. "People confide that it's no help when the
Commanding officer summons his battalion after an operation and shouts; 'Does
anyone need help?' Nobody wants to step forward as they all fear a stigma."
PTSD
The culture of the services make it very difficult for people to openly express
their deepest feelings yet PTSD needs to be diagnosed early so that appropriate
help can be provided. In an ideal world, Combat Stress would like to open
up mini drop in centres around Britain, and expand upon the rather inadequate
two-week stay servicemen currently get.
Kevin thinks there are many different reasons
why former service personnel end up on the streets. The average length of
service is just six years but it seems that a sizeable minority become institutionalised
and unable to make a seamless switch back into society. But thanks to Home
Base and other charities, people learn to integrate back into civilian life.
This can include, for example, sticking to a strict budget plan, which isn't
easy when some spend what money they have on drink and trendy clothes because
they're so used to free rent and food.
Kevin has experience of working with troubled
people but even he was taken back at the scale of the problem. He talks of
Sam (not his real name) whose father served in the RAF and he was almost
single-handedly brought up by his mother. When his abusive father returned,
he beat him and favoured his sister. Sam was bitter that his mother didn't
protect him and left to live with his loving granny.
Sam joined the navy in his late teens but soon got into trouble for stealing.
His relationships broke down and he rebelled by stealing cars. When he left,
he drifted into casual jobs. He moved to an ex-military hostel in London
but was accused of setting a hostel on fire and evicted.
Slowly and with the support of Kevin, Sam has
improved and they meet regularly to work on his erratic family relationships
echoing through his life. But at the same time, Kevin knows there are no
fairy tale endings and when Sam's father hit him, it triggered a visible
deterioration. Often, it's hard for Kevin to assess whether he's getting
through and he suspects Sam, who has a dubious set of moral values may have
a borderline personality disorder. Yet he remains endearingly optimistic
about his rocky journey.
Today Sam lives in a flat. He's taken more responsibility but when Kevin
found out that he'd lied about claiming benefits, he found that it was best
to be absolutely frank.
"I did feel let down," Kevin admits
looking at his wristwatch. "It made me feel frustrated but I was conscious
that I didn't want to reject him and I let him know that it hindered his
progress. I told him
"You've stolen, you've lied, but we'll continue
to help you."
He adds: "If you think about people on a downward spiral, Home Base
is about catching them before they fall, before they end up on the streets.
And that's why we're here."
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