Ben Ford

I help service business owners scaling past $5M achieve what their competitors can't: complete technological independence while transforming expertise into scalable outcomes.

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗠:
Service businesses face a critical choice when scaling:
▪️ Build disconnected "Frankenstacks" of SaaS tools creating perpetual dependency
▪️ Hire expensive in-house technical teams with fixed costs regardless of project needs
▪️ Work with consultants who deliver reports without implementation

The result? Vendor lock-in, escalating costs, and systems that fragment as you grow.

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡:
At Mission Ctrl, we build client-owned, AI-powered operating systems that:
▪️ Transform your expertise into systems you completely own and control
▪️ Deliver consistent service excellence regardless of who delivers it
▪️ Scale your revenue without proportionally increasing costs
▪️ Convert your business from selling time to selling outcomes

𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗪𝗘'𝗥𝗘 𝗗𝗜𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧:
▪️ Military Inspired Methodology: As a former Royal Marines Commando turned software engineer, I bring 20+ years of technical expertise with military precision to business operations
▪️ Client Ownership: Unlike SaaS platforms, you own all code and infrastructure from day one
▪️ Rapid Results: We deploy functional environments in under a day and achieve cash flow neutrality within 4 months

We're accepting only 2 new clients per month. If you're scaling a service business and want a ompetitive edge that drives growth without proportional costs, let's talk.

Co-Founder

Mission Ctrl exists to ease the growing pains of scaling businesses by building custom digital infrastructures that enable internal operations to scale.

We help you build a custom platform that's yours from day one, using the most cost effective and powerful open-source technology available.

We call it Organisational Engineering As A Service.

Launch your business into the future by building a platform to integrate your people, processes and technology.

✅ Free people's capacity to innovate
✅ Implement and digitise process to scale
✅ Harness technology to eliminate repetition

Get in touch if your want us to help engineer competitive advantage into your DNA

I am co-founding the UK’s first dedicated impact platform designed to help UK military veteran entrepreneurs go from mission to momentum through capability development, community, and capital pathways.

I am also a leadership and performance coach, and have advised teams at HSBC, Meta, Audi, England Football, and Manchester United. 

I run a coaching practice, called Be Willing coaching, where I work with individuals and their teams to develop leadership and high performance. 

I wrote a book called Commando Mindset that became a bestseller. Sat down with Steven Bartlett for what he called "the most gripping conversation I've ever had on this podcast.

Ben Williams

I got thanked for my military service yesterday by a fellow Brit, and it felt very strange.

In the United Kingdom, you don't often come across someone who thanks you for your service. Nor do veterans expect it.

The challenge is that our approach to veterans is often compared to the United States, where appreciation is more visible. They let veterans board flights first, cheer them at arrival lounges, shake their hands, and offer discounts. The gratitude is open and abundant.

Here in the UK, most veterans would be surprised if a stranger thanked them for their service. But I don't think this is because people don't care or don't want to express gratitude. Far from. I actually believe it's more about not knowing how to approach it.

I've learned in civilian life that speaking to someone who has served can feel intimidating to people, something I didn't realise while in uniform. It's not the physical reality of the job that intimidates. It's the fear of accidentally triggering a difficult memory or causing distress.

It's easier to stay quiet than risk disturbing the past, right? I've heard it several times: "What if I take their mind back to the battle?"

This reveals something important about how we view veterans in the UK. There's a misconception that we're all broken, teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown if asked about our military service. This couldn't be further from the truth.

Here's what I want you to know: veterans aren't broken. We're ready. Ready for the next challenge. Ready to take on anything. Ready to achieve great things. Ready to show the world how capable we are. Ready to be thanked.

So next time you meet someone in uniform, wearing a hoodie with their battalion on it, wearing a veterans badge, or mentioning their service in conversation, just say thank you. It will honestly go a country mile.

And veterans, we have to receive it well too. We're terrible at accepting that thank you when it finally comes. We weird out and brush past it because humility has been drummed into us. Take the thanks in and wear it with pride. It's been hard-fought for.

#veterans #thankyouforyourservice #armedforces

⚠️ A year ago today, I stood at this cliff edge ready to end my life. A year on, I went back, to film the exact journey I took, in the hope of bringing awareness. 

This is Back From the Edge. A 15 minute film I’ve made, of me returning to that place, walking you through what I was feeling then, and what I felt standing there again. I share what I went through in those darkest moments, and how I found my way back, and away from the edge.

I won’t lie, it was incredibly tough to make. And it might not be easy to watch. But I needed to do this. I needed to face it, and I needed to share it.

Because if you’re struggling right now, I want you to know you can step back from the edge. No matter how far gone you think you are, there’s always a way back.

Please watch if this might help you feel less alone, make you feel seen, or help you understand what someone you love might be going through. And if you’ve come through the other side like me, I hope it reminds you how far you’ve come.

Some have been through this. Some are going through it now. And some will go through it in the future. But we win this fight by being vocal, by looking out for each other, and by never giving up.

If it’s you, speak up and get support.
If it’s someone you know, check in on them today. It might make all the difference.

Some people I want to thank. 

Most importantly, my Wife, Mum and children who helped me cope during that incredibly dark time. 

To some close friends who were there, when it mattered. And to the professionals who supported me throughout my recovery: Dr Natasha Roberts, Walking With The Wounded, RMA - The Royal Marines Charity, Rock 2 Recovery UK CIC, Jamie S., Samaritans and the NHS.  

You are all loved. And I wish the best for you all. 

Thank you. 

#MentalHealthMatters #SuicidePrevention #BackFromTheEdge #MentalHealthAwareness #EndTheStigma #YouAreNotAlone

Yesterday, I did something I never thought I’d do. I went back to the cliff where I almost ended my life.

Last time, I was ready to jump. This time, I was there to face it.

I’ve decided to produce a short film about what happened, and I had to go back to the cliff to do it. The drive. The walk. Standing at that spot. It took my breath away, knowing what I’d been ready to do. 

But I also felt something else: proud. Proud of the work I’ve done. Proud that I came back from the edge. Proud of my recovery. Proud of who I’ve become. 

And if you’re reading this and you’re struggling, I need you to know something.
You don’t have to face your cliff alone. You don’t have to wait until you’re at the edge to reach out. In fact, the bravest thing you can do is ask for help before you get there.

If you’re worried about someone, check in on them. A simple “how are you really doing?” can be the lifeline someone needs. Don’t wait for them to come to you. They might not be able to.

If you’re the one struggling, please tell someone. Anyone. A friend, a family member, a colleague, a helpline. It doesn’t have to be perfect or eloquent. Just “I’m not okay” is enough to start. 

Some have been through this before. Some are going through it now. And some will go through it in the future. But to win the fight we have to keep being vocal. We have to keep looking out for each other. We have to keep sharing that it’s possible to come back.

If you’re struggling right now, just focus on getting through January. One day at a time. The rest will come.

I’ll be putting my short film, Back From the Edge, out tomorrow on Wednesday 14th. I’m going to keep banging the drum on this message because I know it helps people. I see their messages all the time in my inbox. And if sharing my story helps even one person feel seen, heard, or brave enough to reach out, it’s worth it.

#MentalHealthMatters #SuicidePrevention #MentalHealthAwareness #ItsOkayToNotBeOkay #EndTheStigma #MentalHealthRecovery #YouAreNotAlone

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Mr Trump. This is not a political post. Nor am I a political person.

The first picture are the seven incredible Royal Marines Commandos who died on Herrick 14, 2011, fighting on the ‘frontline’. 

Deano. 
Sam MC. 
Ollie. 
Dave. 
James. 
Fish. 
Baz. 

Brothers. 
Fathers. 
Friends. 
Sons. 
All of them hero’s. 🇬🇧 

The last few, are all of seven troop, in their thankless task of working on the ‘frontline’. 

Never forget.

I turned 28 yesterday. Well, 38. And it’s the best I’ve ever felt on my birthday. Here’s why.

The reason I’m posting this isn’t so people wish me happy birthday. I want to make a simple point about recovery, hope, and what’s possible when you do the work.

Last year, I was laid up in bed on my birthday. And not for a lie-in.

Depression had gripped me fully. Years of emotional neglect, not coping with stress, and not dealing with past traumas had become too much. I was totally numb by this point last year. I was losing weight. I couldn’t see a way through.

Yesterday was different.

My kids made me breakfast in bed. We got pasties from the bakery. We went bowling (because apparently I’m 8 years old). Then we demolished pizza together. It was perfect. It was simple. It was everything I couldn’t have imagined feeling a year ago.

Not because the day was so lovely, but because I was there. Properly there. Present. Feeling it all.

Ten months of therapy. Therapy with Walking With The Wounded. The NHS mental health team. Support from the RMA - The Royal Marines Charity. Giving up alcohol. Facing eighteen years of buried trauma. It’s been brutal. Raw. The hardest thing I’ve ever done.

But yesterday, watching my kids bowl and seeing them laughing at my terrible aim, I felt something I’d forgotten existed: joy.

If you’re struggling right now, especially during this time of year, I need you to hear this:

The light at the end of the tunnel isn’t a cliché. It’s real. Recovery exists. Feeling genuinely good again exists.

It won’t look like Instagram? On a beach or looking successful. That’s the bullshit versio. It’ll look like breakfast in bed made by your kids. It’ll look like ordinary moments that suddenly feel extraordinary because you’re finally able to be in them.

You might not believe it’s possible for you right now. I didn’t either. But with the right support, with doing the hard work even when you don’t want to, with not giving up on yourself, you can get there.

No matter how dark and consuming it feels, there is always a way forward. Always.

#mentalhealth #bluejanuary

Veterans aren't broken. Veterans are ready.

I'm obsessed with changing this narrative because I see what it's costing us.

The word "veteran" has shifted. Not toward respect or recognition, but toward assumption. Of trauma. Of damage. Of someone who needs help rather than someone who can give it.

I see it in how many of us avoid the term. "I'm a former Marine." "I'm ex-Artillery." "I served in the Paras." Anything but "I'm a veteran."

Because "veteran" has started to mean something we're not. That we are broken.

We're not broken. And we're not heroes either; that label feels just as hollow. We're people who served. Who sacrificed. Who committed to the cause of protecting our nation.

But here's where this narrative is doing real damage:

I still see veterans not getting hired because employers can't see past the uniform to the experience underneath.

I still see far too many veteran-owned startups failing to secure investment because investors don't understand what we bring, or worse, because there's something in their subconscious telling them we're a risk. (This is exactly why I'm building an impact fund to change it.)

As much as there's appreciation for veterans, which we are grateful for, there isn't understanding. And I genuinely believe that subconscious bias, tied to that "broken veteran" narrative, is influencing hiring decisions, investment decisions, and opportunities every single day.

Admittedly, I'm part of this. I've needed to be fixed because of my own traumas. But I've dealt with that. And much like many others I know, I'm ready for my next challenges.

That's the point. The struggles were real. The recovery was real. And the readiness is real.

And here’s the truth that might not sit comfortably with everyone:

This country is in a state right now. We need people to step up and help us get out of the mess we're in.

I'm not saying veterans are the only ones who can do it. But they sure as hell are certainly part of the picture.

So let's change the narrative from broken to ready. Because these people are:
• Ready to lead your teams through some of the most challenging and chaotic times.
• Ready to launch some of the most impactful startups in the UK.
• Ready to solve problems under pressure when others struggle.
• Ready to lead, perform and excel.
• Ready to fight for this country again, in or out of uniform.

Veterans aren't broken. They're ready.

Let's start treating them that way.

#veteransareready #veterans #armedforces

The Ben in this photo thought emotions made you weak. The Ben writing this knows that suppressing them nearly killed him.

I now believe, that the bravest thing a man can do, is be open to his emotions.

It took me 37 years to realise this.
Until last year, I’d never been able to really cope with, or understand, what I was feeling. I suppressed it all. “I’m okay” became my default, easy to camouflage with a smile or humour.

My time in the Marines taught me to hide it away. There wasn’t room for emotions in combat or on operational tours. Nor did emotions come out on camp, down the pub or in the accommodation. It wasn’t the environment for it. And honestly, it couldn’t be. We often had to suppress them, to get a hard job done.

But that way of thinking stuck with me years after I left. I couldn’t tap into my emotions even when I desperately needed to.

Was I numb? Or just terrified?

Here’s what I’ve learned: 77% of men who die by suicide have never asked for help. That statistic haunts me because I was almost part of it.

I recently listened to Connor Beaton talking to Chris Williamson on the Modern Wisdom  podcast, talk about how men sabotage their emotions to remain high performers. We convince ourselves that suppressing feelings makes us stronger, more capable, more reliable. But this strategy doesn’t just fail us. It rips us apart from the inside out.

The weight doesn’t disappear because we ignore it. It accumulates. And eventually, you’re carrying so much that you can’t function, can’t connect, can’t even recognise yourself anymore. And that’s when we break. 

If you’re reading this and it resonates:

1.	Start small. You don’t need to unpack 20 years of suppressed emotions overnight. Just name one feeling today. Just say “I’m not okay” to one person.
	
2.	Find your outlet. Therapy worked for me. For you, it might be coaching, a mate who gets it, or even just writing things down privately. The method matters less than the honesty.
	
3.	Understand this isn’t weakness. The strongest thing I ever did wasn’t in combat. It was admitting I was drowning and asking for help.

Be the brave one. Feel it all.

#mentalhealth

457 faces. All from the frontline. 

Never forget.

Credit to: Wills Art Project and The UK Afghanistan Veterans Community (HQ).

If you are an angel investor, here is why veteran-founded startups are worth backing.

At the earliest stages of investing, most decisions are made on people, not pitch decks. Ask any experienced angel or VC, and they will tell you the same thing. Around 70% to 80% of early stage conviction sits with the founder. Product, market, and timing matter, but they come second.

So what do investors actually look for in founders?
• Resilience under sustained pressure.
• Bias for action and execution.
• Mission clarity and long-term commitment.
• Operational discipline and accountability.
• The ability to lead, adapt, and keep going when things break.

This is not a checklist. It is a mindset.

And yet, despite this, the majority of startups fail. Not because the idea was bad, but because execution broke down. Founder burnout, misalignment, isolation, and leadership strain are consistently cited as major contributors to early-stage failure.

In other words, no one has cracked the code.

So where do we find people who have already been trained to operate in uncertainty, under pressure, for extended periods of time, with real consequences?

One answer is the UK Armed Forces.

For over a century, people from the military have been forged in environments and operations that demand clarity of mission, disciplined execution, adaptability, and resilience. Often over years or decades. These are not theoretical traits. They are daily practices.

Yet only around 4% of the roughly 10,000 service leavers each year go on to start a business.

What is striking is this. Around 40% express an interest in entrepreneurship.

The gap is not talent or appetite. It is access.

Business education, networks, capital, partnerships, community, and well-being support are fragmented or missing entirely. Without that foundation, leaping into startup life does not feel bold. It feels irresponsible, especially with mortgages, families, and real-world obligations.

That is the problem we are building to solve.

Russell Sheldon and I are creating a platform and capital pathway that helps veterans leaving service see entrepreneurship not as reckless, but as a smart and supported next mission.

We are currently raising our own seed round. This will allow us to build the platform and launch our first dedicated fund. Alongside this, we are forming an angel and investor network focused on backing the founders, whether that is through investing in us directly or into veteran-led startups via a dedicated angel syndicate.

Veteran-founded businesses can be a significant contributor to the UK economy. We intend to help unlock that potential properly, sustainably, and at scale.

If this resonates and you want to be involved, please comment below or connect and message me.

We would love you to be part of the journey.

And as ever, if you are a founder looking to be backed, please reach out.

#AngelInvesting #VeteranFounders #StartupInvesting #UKStartups #Entrepreneurship #Founders #VentureCapital

FAMILY: Nothing is more important.

Whatever you are building today.
Whatever is weighing on you.
Whatever pressure you are carrying.

Make time for your family.

They ground you when things go wrong and steady you when things go right.
They were there at the start, and they will still be there long after the noise fades.

Whatever you are fighting for, make sure it’s for you, and for them.

Everything else can wait.

Before you open your laptop this morning, do one thing for yourself.

Not for your inbox. Not for your team. Not for your business. For you.

I know how Monday mornings go. Alarm rings, you reach for your phone, emails are already piling up, Slack is buzzing, and before you’ve even had coffee you’re in reactive mode.

By 10am you’re already drained. By Wednesday you’re counting down to Friday.

Here’s what I’ve learned: when you start your week reacting, you stay reacting. You’re surviving the week, not shaping it.

But what if you started differently?

What if before you opened your laptop, before you checked your phone, before you dove into everyone else’s priorities, you gave yourself ten minutes?

Not to be productive. Not to get ahead. Just to be human.

Maybe it’s journaling. Maybe it’s sitting with your coffee in actual silence. Maybe it’s a walk. Maybe it’s just naming how you’re feeling about the week ahead.

It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be some elaborate morning routine. It just has to be yours.

Because the work will still be there. The emails will still be waiting. The meetings will still happen.

But you’ll show up to them differently. Clearer. Calmer. More intentional.

You’re not a productivity machine. You’re a person. And you deserve those ten minutes before you give the rest of your day away.

What’s one small thing you could do for yourself before diving in today?

“I just want to be happy again.”

That’s what I kept saying to my therapist, Natasha, last year, often in floods of tears and emotion. Honestly, it was one of the most painful sentences I repeated throughout my therapy with her.

“Why can’t I just be happy?”

The other day, I was having a coffee with my daughter, and I realised something profound: I was finally content. I wasn’t searching for happiness or wishing I was somewhere else. I was simply present, genuinely content with what I have. And that realisation made the coffee with her a truly wonderful experience.
But getting to that moment took work.

Throughout my therapy journey, Natasha helped me understand that happiness isn’t necessarily a long-lasting thing. It can quite often be fleeting, much like the feeling of sadness, and if sought after as a lifelong feeling, I’d soon be disappointed. 

Trouble is, depression doesn’t want you to be happy. It wants to engulf you in a dark cloud of grey and make you suffer, which is truly painful.

So we worked on reframing it all, and I began to look at what the word contentment means to me.

Chasing happiness might be a lost cause. But chasing contentment, well, that has a different meaning.

And it really clicked.

I stopped feeling so burdened by the mistakes and decisions I’d made in the past. That I hadn’t showed up as a Dad at some points. Like I wasn’t being a good enough husband. 

I worried less about the future. I dropped my guard about what people might think of me. I started to accept my emotions. I began understanding that I am who I am, and that I’m on a journey that isn’t perfect.

Learning contentment has been transformative for me. It’s not about settling or giving up on joy, happiness and laughter. It’s about finding peace with where I am whilst still moving forwards. It’s about accepting the full spectrum of emotions without the pressure of constant happiness. 

This shift in perspective has given me something more sustainable, more real, and ultimately more fulfilling than the happiness I was desperately chasing.

If you’re struggling with similar feelings, I’d encourage you to reflect on what happiness really looks like for you. Is it sustainable? Is it realistic? Or might contentment be the more valuable pursuit? 

Sometimes we need to shift our perception from seeking endless happiness to embracing contentment, a state where we can find peace even when things aren’t perfect. It might just be the reframing you need.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

📷 She was off to ride her bike 😂!

Thank you! 🙏🏻 

When I turned my phone on this morning, I found my LinkedIn full of warm messages, comments, shares, and incredible support from the video I put out yesterday. 

I was reflecting when at the gym, and it’s been utterly humbling. I feel privileged to have been able to tell my story of what happened. But more importantly, to help drive the conversation louder on our mental health. 

But it’s not about me. It’s about the next person we can reach, to help them feel heard and seen, so they can get the support that THEY need. 

Please keep sharing and helping more people step back from the edge. 

🙏🏻 

Video is in the comments. 

#mentalhealth

Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu helped save my life and transformed me professionally. Here's how.

When I left the Royal Marines in 2019, I left behind more than a career. I left a core values system. Purpose. Camaraderie. Identity. A brotherhood. 

For a while, I was okay. I dove into the startup world, building companies, and the Marines became a distant memory.

But as the years went on, my traumas began to surface. The world started to feel very lonely.

At home, I kept everything bottled up. I thought that's what being a dad meant. As CEO of a tech startup, I carried the weight of the world. I started to drink more. PTSD symptoms from events I thought were long buried came roaring back. It all just began to get, really f'ing heavy.

By January 2025, I was completely lost. My self-belief was destroyed. My confidence was crushed. I was depressed. And on January 14th 2025, I stood on a cliff, ready to leave this earth.

But an intervention happened. My life was saved. I entered intensive therapy, started medication, and began the hard work of recovery.

A few months in, I met Dean, a Black Belt at Exeter Jiu-Jitsu. Over coffee, I shared what I'd been through, and we connected. And at the end, he simply said, "When you're ready, come down to the club. It might help."

So I gave BJJ another go. I'd dabbled before but never committed. However, this time, it stuck. What started as a once-a-week hobby became a regular obsession. And honestly, I think without Jiu-Jitsu, my recovery would have taken twice as long and been half as effective.

Here's what surprised me: it's not the exercise that saved me. That's just a bonus.

BJJ gave me a community of people who think like me. Always striving to improve, competitive, but genuinely wanting to see each other flourish. It's the closest thing I've found to the Brotherhood of the Marines.

It's also taught me humility in ways I never expected. There's something eye-opening about a 16-year-old, half your weight, putting you to sleep in under ten seconds. It's taught me to listen and learn from people in all walks of life. And most importantly, it's reminded me that sometimes you're the hammer, and more often than not, I'm the nail. And there are some big hammers.

I've met incredibly close friends who've helped me see who I am again. BJJ has given me a sense of purpose I haven't felt since putting on the Green Beret. 

Personally and professionally, it's opened up a whole new world. It helps me be a better father, a better husband, and brings psychological insights into the work I do every day.

If you're struggling, please know this: It might not be Jiu-Jitsu for you. Maybe it's rock climbing, or running, or woodworking, or a choir. But there's something out there. Some community, some practice that can help you find your way back to yourself. Don't wait as I did. Find your thing. Find your people.

You're worth fighting for.

Please share yours.

📸 The blur is all steam 😂 

#mentalhealth

The founder CEO disease no one talks about.

You’re supposed to have all the answers. That’s what founders believe, anyway.

The board looks to you. The team looks to you. Investors look to you. And somewhere along the way, you start believing that asking for help means you’re failing.

So you don’t ask. You just carry it. All of it.
I did this for years. And it nearly destroyed me.

Here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: I’m not a great CEO. And I’m okay with that now.

For a long time, I wasn’t okay with it. I thought admitting that meant I’d failed. That I wasn’t cut out for building companies. That I had to push through and figure it out because that’s what founders do.

But the truth? I didn’t enjoy the role. The constant firefighting. The operational detail. The managing up and down and sideways. The performance of always having the answer even when I didn’t.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it. I could. But doing something you’re capable of and doing something that energises you are two completely different things.

The breakthrough came when I stopped trying to be the CEO I thought I should be and started asking myself: what am I actually good at? What do I enjoy? Where do I add the most value?

For me, that’s strategy. It’s coaching founders. It’s building frameworks and systems. Working with customers to understand the true problem, and solving for it. It’s the early-stage vision work and connecting people. It’s not the day-to-day grind of running the machine.

And here’s the thing that changed everything: accepting this didn’t make me weak. It made me effective.

Now I work with people who are brilliant founder CEOs. People who love the operational detail I found draining. People who thrive in the chaos I found suffocating. And I support them in the areas where I’m strong.

There’s profound freedom in knowing what you’re not good at. In being honest about what drains you versus what energises you. In building a team around your weaknesses instead of pretending they don’t exist.

The founder CEO role isn’t the only way to build something meaningful. You don’t have to be the person at the top of the org chart to create impact. You just have to be honest about where you belong and what you add. 

If you’re a founder struggling with this right now; feeling like you should enjoy the CEO role but you don’t, or feeling guilty about wanting to step back, this is your permission slip.

It’s okay to not be the founder CEO. It’s okay to admit this isn’t your seat. It’s okay to find the role that actually fits.

The humility of accepting this opens doors. It lets you focus on what you’re brilliant at. It lets you bring in people who are better suited for the roles you’re forcing yourself to play.
And honestly? Your company will be better for it.

What role are you playing that isn’t actually yours? And what would happen if you admitted it?

#founder #ceo #startup

Adapt and overcome, World War Two style. 

In September 1943, the Royal Navy launched Operation Source.

The objective was brutally simple on paper.
Disable the Tirpitz, Nazi Germany’s most powerful battleship, hiding deep inside a heavily defended Norwegian fjord.

But the execution was anything but.

Small teams of volunteers took X-craft midget submarines hundreds of miles beneath the sea. They towed them behind larger submarines, then released them for the final approach.

Almost nothing went to plan.

• One X-craft was lost during towing.
• Another flooded before reaching the target.
• Crews operated in freezing darkness, exhausted, oxygen running low.
• Navigation systems failed.
• Escape plans collapsed.

And yet… two crews adapted in real time.

Lieutenant Basil Place VC, and Lieutenant Donald Cameron VC, pressed on despite knowing they were unlikely to escape.

They manoeuvred their damaged craft under the Tirpitz, placed explosive charges, and accepted capture.

Those charges detonated hours later.

The Tirpitz survived, but it was crippled for months, removed from active operations, and never again posed the same strategic threat. And the mission changed the course of the naval war in the North Atlantic.

Every man involved knew the odds.
They went anyway.

The lesson isn’t heroics.
It’s adaptability.

Adapt and overcome doesn’t mean blind persistence. It means adjusting your plan when reality refuses to cooperate.

• When the tools fail.
• When the environment turns hostile.
• When the original outcome is no longer possible.

We don’t sit around and blame, cast judgement or moan. You get one with it, and move in the direction you need to move next. 

You redefine success around impact, not comfort.

Those crews didn’t achieve a clean victory.
They achieved the necessary one.

In leadership, business, and life, that distinction matters.

Sometimes the win isn’t walking away unscathed. It’s making the decision that still moves the mission forward.

That’s adapting.
That’s overcoming.

And smoking a pipe whilst looking like a badass in uniform? That’s cool! 😎🫡

What does the word "veteran" mean to you?

I'm speaking to more and more veterans at the moment, as well as many advocates. And it's interesting, I keep coming across mixed opinions on the word itself, and what it means.

For some, they're incredibly proud of the term. It's about service, sacrifice, and a shared history. It's earned. It means something.

For others, the word feels… off. It evokes images of being broken, needing charity, or being put out to pasture. "Veteran" becomes synonymous with "retired" or "damaged" in a way that doesn't sit right. Some tell me they just want to be seen as who they are now, not defined by what they did before.
I don't have a clear answer on this, and I'm not sure there is one. But I'm curious.

I also hear terms of operator, leader, strategist, ex-military, and a common one: "former (regiment), e.g., Former Royal Marine.

If you've served, what does "veteran" mean to you? Do you embrace it? Reject it? Feel somewhere in between?

If you're currently serving, how do you think about this word for your future self?

And if you're a civilian, what comes to mind when you hear "veteran"?
Let's talk about this. It matters how we use language, and I want to hear your perspective.

Please let me know what your thoughts are.

#veteran #armedforces #military

Really looking forward to speaking at Wit + Grit Podcast live, this Friday, at Millennium Point Birmingham. 

What Andy Dawson and PJ Ellis have pulled together, in a short space of time, is incredible, and I'm beyond privileged to be speaking on stage. 

Their concept on bringing together fantastic minds (and mine), to explore the relationship between Wit (seeing the lighter side) and Grit (digging in when it gets hard) is a unique blend of areas that I feel get missed in business. 

And as part of this fantastic day, I will be taking to the stage to talk about how the Royal Marines, Cheerfulness in the face of adversity, has helped me overcome some of my biggest challenges in both my professional and personal life. 

But most importantly, this journey led me back to being the family man I needed to be.

So it's last call. If you are at a loose end this Friday, and being at an event designed to inspire and connect people, not bore you with PowerPoint presentations, get your ticket, and I will see you there. 

Link in the comments.

Following on from Russell Sheldon's post yesterday about veterans and entrepreneurship in the UK, I want to add a further perspective.

The UK Veterans Strategy highlights that "Veterans drive economic growth as well as improvements in public services." But here's what's missing from that vision: entrepreneurship.

Small businesses (0–49 employees) account for around 99% of UK firms and generate 34% of UK private-sector turnover. If veterans are meant to drive growth, why isn't starting and scaling businesses a clear pathway for them?

We talk a lot about "supporting veterans" when they transition out of service. But support isn't just about jobs, it's about enabling the value they can create.

Veterans bring proven leadership, adaptability under pressure, and mission-focused execution, let alone resilience to crack on. These aren't just good employee traits, but the foundations of successful founders.

Yet when we look at veteran transition programmes, most focus on employment pathways. Where's the startup accelerator? Where's the startup funding? Where's the infrastructure to turn military experience into business growth?

If we're serious about veterans driving economic growth, which we say we are, then we need to back them as founders, not just as employees.

Russ and I are building something to change this. If you want to know more, reach out.

#Veterans #Entrepreneurship #Startups #VeteranFounders #ArmedForces #VeteransInBusiness #UKBusiness

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