Chantelle Taylor grew up the youngest of five children on a housing estate in Plymouth, far from the deserts and battlefields that would later define her service. In April 1998, at just 22, she joined the British Army. The discipline was harsh, the training grueling, and at first she struggled to adapt. But step by step, she grew stronger, gaining confidence and a place in the Royal Army Medical Corps.

As a combat medical technician, she had chosen one of the few military roles open to women that carried the word “combat” in its title. For Taylor, that word mattered. She wanted not only to heal but to serve on the front lines, shoulder-to-shoulder with those she treated.

Her early deployments tested her resolve in ways most people could never imagine. In Kosovo in 1999, she worked with Canadian forces on the grim task of exhuming mass graves — war crimes etched into the soil. A year later, in Sierra Leone, she learned to treat catastrophic battlefield injuries while also confronting the haunting reality of child soldiers. These experiences hardened her spirit but also deepened her compassion.

Personal tragedy followed. In 2002, her brother David was killed. Grief could have broken her, but instead she poured herself into her career, answering the call to serve in Iraq in 2003.

By 2006, Taylor was in Afghanistan. Her first tour placed her in the tented hospital at Camp Bastion, where she worked long hours treating an endless flow of casualties from Helmand Province. It was here she witnessed both extraordinary skill and heartbreaking loss, watching colleagues save lives in primitive conditions while also fearing for her fiancé serving on the front lines.

Two years later, in 2008, Taylor was back in Helmand, this time determined to be at the sharp end of the fight. Assigned first to headquarters in Lashkar Gah, she balanced life-or-death decisions about casualty evacuations under fire. Later, she joined armoured convoys, braving ambushes on treacherous canal tracks.

It was during one of these missions, near Marjah, that Taylor made history. When Taliban fighters launched a sudden ambush, her convoy was pinned down. As gunfire tore through the air and vehicles were hit, Taylor reacted instinctively. She raised her SA80 rifle and returned fire, killing an insurgent who had targeted her vehicle. In that instant, she became the first female British soldier to kill an enemy combatant at close quarters.

But there was no time for reflection. Reports came in of wounded soldiers in the rear vehicle. Still under fire, Taylor and her commanding officer sprinted through the chaos to help. They treated casualties, coordinated evacuations, and pressed forward, their mission far from over.

Later in the tour, Taylor endured a brutal seven-week battle at Nad-e Ali while attached to B Company, 5th Battalion of the Royal Regiment of Scotland. Out of 100 men and a small Afghan contingent, 66 became casualties. She and her team fought a relentless race against the clock, stabilizing injuries, minimizing blood loss, and arranging dangerous helicopter evacuations under fire. Heat, exhaustion, and enemy attacks never broke their resolve.

Through it all, Taylor found her place in the brotherhood of soldiers. She was no longer just a medic on the periphery. She was part of a tight-knit team, respected for her courage, her tactical awareness, and her willingness to face the same dangers as the men she served beside.

When she finally returned home, she was promoted to staff sergeant and recommended for an officer’s commission. But rather than continue up the ladder, Taylor chose a different path. She left the Army, carrying with her both scars and a profound sense of accomplishment. Her comrades marked her departure with gifts, including a Pegasus trophy — an honour typically reserved for paratroopers, a testament to the respect she had earned.

Taylor did not leave conflict behind. In 2009 she returned to Afghanistan with the US Department of State, training Afghan National Army medics in lifesaving skills. Later, she served in diplomatic security, even protecting the Australian ambassador to Iraq.

Her journey — from a shy recruit struggling through basic training to a combat medic who made history under fire — remains an extraordinary testament to resilience, sacrifice, and the courage of women in war.