Rob Homans Fought for His Country. His Country Left Him to Die.

Rob Homans was a promising footballer as a young boy. He had the chance to play for Birmingham City—but instead, he chose to serve his country. He joined the British Army as a Royal Horse Artillery bombardier.

By 19, Rob was in Afghanistan on his first tour. By 21, he was back for his second. When he finally came home, his mother, Dawn Turner, said simply: 

“He was broken.”

Rob left the Army in 2015 and tried to rebuild his life. He found work, got married, and tried to settle into civilian life. But the war—and brutal training methods—came home with him buried deep in his mind and body.

He began losing his hearing in one ear. On top of this he was having constant headaches and digestive issues.  By 2019 his marriage had collapsed and with it, his stability. Rob found himself homeless and unemployed.

He moved back in with his mother and they reached out for mental health support. A veterans’ charity would inform them that there was a six month waiting list. Six months—for a man who’d already waited years for help!

That year, Rob tried to take his own life for the first time.

Then again in 2023.

And again in 2024.

After his first attempt, Dawn founded Stepway, a charity for veterans.

“We saved so many lives,” she said, “but couldn’t save my son.”

Rob’s trauma from Afghanistan never left him. Desperate to silence the memories, he turned to cocaine to cope with the demons that haunted him. 

In May 2025, Rob called his mum and said the words no parent should ever hear:

“Sorry mum, I just can’t. I just can’t do this anymore. I love you but I can’t be here anymore.”

Frantic, Dawn called the police. They managed to find him. Despite being in a clear mental health crisis, the police refused to section him. Once again left to face the same demons that had driven him to the edge.

With nowhere stable to stay, Rob was sofa-surfing between friends houses. Desperate, he and his mum turned to Worcester City Council for a third time, begging for housing and some sense of stability for Rob. The council’s response? A two year waiting list

When Dawn protested—explaining her son was a veteran—the housing officer replied coldly:

“No, I've got plenty on my list, he's just got to stand in line with everybody else. He's not a priority.”

Prior to this, the council had offered Rob an HMO—shared housing with drug users. Rob refused; he’d fought too hard for 8 months to stay clean. The councils response? If he didn’t accept his application would be closed and it would be marked down on the system that he’s not engaging. They closed his case, resulting in the two year waiting list. 

After being turned away for the third—and what would be final time, Rob saw two homeless veterans in a doorway. He broke down in tears and said to his mum:

“I've got nothing against any section of the community. All I'm asking for is fairness. That hotel over there is full of refugees. Why can't I have that? If they can house them, why can't they house me temporarily till I get on my feet? I fought for this country and it means nothing.”

In August 2025, after attending his brother’s wedding, while his brother was on honeymoon, Rob took his own life. This time, no one could save him.

Rob Homans gave everything for his country—and his country gave him nothing back.

A young man who once had the world at his feet, who fought through two tours in Afghanistan, was left to die waiting in line for help that never came.

His mother believes Rob suffered a traumatic brain injury during his service—an injury that went undiagnosed, untreated and unacknowledged by the very system he swore to protect.

If this story shakes you, let it. Because it should!

No veteran should die waiting for help!

No family should have to start a charity to do the government’s job!

And no one who served should ever feel forgotten!

Support Stepway. Support Rob’s Army. Speak up. Demand change. Because silence is killing our soldiers and veterans!