The vision of women serving on the front lines of combat was once considered a far-fetched notion. Yet, years before it became a reality, I found myself immersed in the rigorous training regime of the Special Air Service (SAS) between 1999 and 2002. As a woman, and a British Muslim woman at that, my presence in the SAS barracks was met with considerable surprise. To many, the idea seemed improbable – a slender woman, seemingly unfit for the intense demands, training alongside the elite. However, my commanding Colonel, a forward-thinking leader, recognized the evolving nature of society and the necessity for the British Army to adapt. He granted a group of twelve women an unprecedented opportunity to prove their capabilities within this demanding environment.
A woman in military uniform, possibly during training or service.
This initiative was uncharted territory. There were no pre-established standards for women in this role; the aim was purely to assess our potential. Out of the initial group, two of us endured the demanding “Female Selection” process. I persevered through grueling physical and mental challenges, pushing my limits in ways I never thought possible. The culmination of this arduous training was to be the awarding of the coveted “sandy beret,” a distinctive element of the British Sas Uniform and a powerful symbol of SAS qualification. Tragically, just a week before I was due to receive this hard-earned emblem, the experiment was abruptly terminated. My Colonel retired, and the groundbreaking initiative was never revisited, fading into silence.
The disappointment was profound. I had subjected myself to extreme physical, emotional, and mental duress, enduring hardships that tested my very limits. Returning home, I concealed the physical toll – blisters, bruises, blackened toenails hidden beneath trainers and traditional shalwar kameez, shielding my parents from the extent of my ordeal. There were moments of genuine peril, close calls with cliffs and near-drownings under the weight of heavy packs. Despite these trials, I persevered, gaining skills and resilience, becoming, as I wryly note, proficient with a machine gun. The british sas uniform, and specifically the sandy beret, remained just out of reach, a symbol of what could have been.
The military, it seemed, was not yet ready for the integration of women in such roles. However, the foresight of my Colonel proved accurate. On Friday, July 8, 2016, the government finally lifted the ban on women serving in combat roles within the British Army. Prior to my army experience, news of this nature might have elicited a simplistic, celebratory feminist response, a cry for “equal rights” without fully grasping the complexities involved.
But my time training alongside men within the army provided a crucial perspective. The question wasn’t merely about equality but capability. Could women truly fulfill the demands of frontline combat? My experience led me to believe that, unequivocally, they could. I gained firsthand understanding of the inherent biological differences, the surge of aggression men exhibit under threat, a primal “pack of wolves” mentality triggered almost instantaneously by testosterone and adrenaline. While women are capable of reaching similar levels of aggression and effectiveness, it may not be as immediate or instinctive. In the brutal reality of combat, where seconds can be the difference between life and death, any delay poses an unacceptable risk. The british sas uniform, worn by those on the frontline, represents this level of readiness and immediate response.
Despite this biological reality, the principle of opportunity remains paramount. Women should have the right to strive for and train for frontline roles, to earn the right to wear the british sas uniform in its entirety. However, this integration must not come at the cost of lowered standards. Diluting the rigorous requirements to ensure female participation would be a disservice, reducing women in combat to a mere “tick box” exercise or a media spectacle. The potential consequences are stark: the nation cannot afford to see women returning home in body bags due to compromised standards.
Lifting the ban presents a significant opportunity to foster true integration within the Army, dismantling outdated inequalities. I am both proud and excited to have played a part in paving the way for this change. Allowing women to access these roles, to potentially earn the right to wear the british sas uniform and serve on the frontline, can only serve to enhance the dynamism and effectiveness of our military forces.
