For Claire Ashton, life in the Royal Artillery was more than just service, it was survival.
She joined the British Army in 1969, stationed in Germany during the Cold War and later deployed to Northern Ireland at the height of The Troubles. But while she served her country with skill and dedication, the real battle she faced was within her own ranks.
At the time, being gay in the armed forces wasn’t just frowned upon, it was illegal. But here’s the thing: Claire wasn’t gay. She was transgender. And in an era where the word “trans” barely registered in military circles, that distinction didn’t matter.
“They thought I was gay, but back then, trans hadn’t even crossed their radar,” Claire, now living in Uffington, Shropshire, recalls.
Her talent as a soldier and surveyor should have been what defined her. Instead, she became a target. The relentless speculation, the inappropriate questioning, the whispers behind her back, it all took its toll.
Then, in 1972, during a deployment in Germany, the pressure of hiding her identity became unbearable. Claire suffered a mental breakdown. The Army’s response? A medical discharge.
Letters That Ruined Lives
For many, being outed wasn’t a dramatic confession, it was a trap.
“People were caught because of private letters sent between friends,” Claire explains. “Letters where they’d written down their hopes and dreams… and that’s what brought them down.”
Personal quarters were ransacked, stripped bare in the hunt for ‘evidence.’ The message was clear: if you were different, you didn’t belong.
And the consequences were brutal. Some service members faced prison sentences of up to two years, while thousands more, an estimated 2,000 to 5,000, were forced out, their careers and reputations shattered.
It wasn’t until January 2000, after a landmark European Court of Human Rights ruling, that the UK finally lifted the so-called “gay ban.” By then, the damage had been done.
An Apology, But Is It Enough?
In 2022, Britain’s first openly gay judge, Lord Etherton, was commissioned by the Ministry of Defence to review the mistreatment of LGBT+ personnel between 1967 and 2000. The findings were damning: decades of discrimination, wrongful dismissals, and inhumane treatment.
The review made 49 recommendations, including an official apology from the Prime Minister. In July 2023, Rishi Sunak stood before the nation and finally said the words so many had waited to hear: I’m sorry.
The government has since implemented 38 of the 49 recommendations, including compensation payments of up to £70,000 for those dismissed under the ban.
Claire, now in her 70s, has applied for recognition payments, though she knows no amount of money can undo the pain.
“What will never be compensated for,” she says, “is the hurt and distress caused to people, some who were interrogated for hours on end without food or water. I know people who confided in chaplains, believing it was confidential, only to have their secrets passed on. It’s appalling.”
A Moment of Pride
Despite everything, Claire has found moments of recognition. In 2023, she was chosen by the LGBT+ military charity Fighting With Pride to carry its flag at the Festival of Remembrance in the Royal Albert Hall, standing before the King and Queen.
“There wasn’t a prouder veteran that day,” she says.
And in December, she sat in the House of Commons as Shrewsbury MP Julia Buckley told her story, calling her a “brave and committed soldier” who, after being discharged, “disappeared back up north into obscurity… never having been thanked” for her service.
For Claire, hearing those words in Parliament was a moment of long-overdue recognition.
The Ministry of Defence now actively encourages LGBT+ people to serve, with policies in place to protect against discrimination. But for veterans like Claire, the scars of the past remain.
“It’s taken decades for people like me to be heard,” she says. “But finally, we are.”
