The wounded soldier
‘Losing a leg will not stop me living my best life’ MAJOR KATE PHILP
An explosion in Afghanistan changed Major Kate Philp’s life for ever. But she found the strength to follow a new path – and help other veterans… There is a photograph that always inspires me. I’m lying in a hospital bed after having surgery to remove my lower left leg – the result of an explosion in Afghanistan – and I have a smile on my face. Just beyond the frame are hundreds of cards wishing me well, and the grinning faces of my family and friends. It was thanks to those people that I got back on my feet and reclaimed my life. But not everyone in my position is so lucky.
I had wanted to join the Army since I was a child. After graduating from Oxford University, I went to Sandhurst to train as an officer. The training was every bit as gruelling as I’d imagined it would be, but it felt like coming home.
After two tours of Iraq, I was sent to Afghanistan. My armoured vehicle was travelling in a convoy when the explosion happened. At first I wasn’t sure which vehicle had been hit. But when I felt my left leg, the bones were in pieces. Perhaps surprisingly, I felt calm. I knew my leg was broken, but I was certain I’d be back to fitness soon. I was airlifted to safety and days later I was in hospital in the UK. It was there that a consultant told me how serious my injury was. He described a jigsaw of fractures in my foot – they could try to fix it, leaving me in pain for the rest of my life, or they could amputate.
I remember asking him if I’d be able to run, play tennis and ski, and he told me I would. All I knew is I wanted to live my best life. My leg was amputated the following day. I later learnt that I was the first British female soldier to lose a limb, but I was certain I had made the right decision.
My recovery was full of positivity, from the flowers that surrounded my hospital bed to the banter with fellow wounded soldiers in the rehab centre, where I spent much of the following year, and the warmth of my colleagues when I returned to work. It left me with a deep sense of gratitude, and when I read about the charity Walking With The Wounded, I knew I wanted to help.
The charity was founded to help veterans with physical injuries as well as those with mental health problems, such as posttraumatic stress disorder. I learnt it was organising a 200-mile trek to the South Pole to raise money. The journey would be a huge challenge for anyone, let alone someone still adjusting to a prosthetic leg.
I made it through the selection process and took a sabbatical from the Army in order to take on the training regime. There were seven of us doing the challenge, including Prince Harry. Spending time with him, it quickly became clear that this was a cause he felt passionately about.
I didn’t truly appreciate what it means to push your body to its limit until I was on skis, lugging 80kg of weight, with the Antarctic wind blowing in my face. In the -35°C conditions I got frostbite on my ear, my oxygen levels plummeted, and there were times when I felt like I couldn’t take another step. But perspective is a gift. In my toughest moments, I thought of the loved ones who had helped me to reach this point, of the friends and strangers who had helped me raise £13,000, and of the veterans that money was going to help.
Since then, the goals I’ve set myself have been more personal. I left the Army to set up a coaching and leadership training business, drawing on my military training and experience to help people and businesses. I still like to push myself, though, and this year I flew to Morocco to climb the country’s highest mountain.
Lying in that hospital bed, I hoped I would live my best life. As I prepare to spend Christmas surrounded by the people I love, I know that I am.