I ask Stewart Rawes if it was hard to project a tough guy image during his years as a police officer. “I think I was a tough guy,” he says, looking and sounding as if he still is. “But you can be more than that. You can be the full person.”

In his 13 years with Cumbria Constabulary, Stewart acquired a reputation as someone who enjoyed the physical side of the job. He chased a masked burglar who was carrying what was thought to be a handgun; it turned out to be an airgun. On another occasion Stewart was marked by a knife during a tussle. Two other violent incidents forced him to retire from the job he loved.

He recalls: “I was driving a marked police vehicle on a night shift. We were hit by a stolen vehicle, which gave me concussion and problems with my neck and spine.”

A few weeks later Stewart was called to a house for a reported burglary. “I was hit by this burglar in the pitch black. I didn’t know he was there. I suffered partial paralysis – I lost the feeling in my legs. It was just a few seconds but I knew there was problems. The car crash had weakened my neck so much. If it hadn’t been the punch, something else would have shown it up.”

Stewart, 56, had spent years fighting to become a police officer, eventually becoming a Special Constable in his hometown of Carlisle at 24 then joining the regulars at 28.

He spent five years in the Whitehaven area, receiving an award for crime detection before returning to Carlisle.

The injuries which ended his career occurred in 2000. Spinal surgery was partially successful. But the pain and the risk of further damage ruled out a return to duty.

“From the operation to realising it was all over was a year. I tried to bluff my way back in. By the time it came to that final assessment, I began to realise the only person I’m kidding is myself. When everything was explained to me, I thought ‘I get it.’ It was going to be dangerous to carry on.”

Stewart says the reality of retiring at 41 didn’t sink in for about two years. “I fell into, I guess, a trauma. I can see that looking back. At the time I was on another planet. I didn’t even have a retirement do. It’s as if I didn’t want to believe it was happening.”

The incidents that ended his career flashed into his mind while awake and asleep. He suffered panic attacks and paranoia. It took Stewart years to acknowledge that he was struggling mentally as well as physically.

He had joined the police to help victims of crime. Within a year or so Stewart found another way to do this, by volunteering for the county’s witness support unit at Carlisle Crown Court.

“It was explaining the process to witnesses on day one, sitting with them through the trial as much as possible. Basically holding their hand. I know victims often refuse to go to court. That’s why I was determined to help them. It was a two-way street, helping me as much as them.”

Stewart realised how much he needed help only when he began to train as a counsellor.

“A requirement of being a person-centred counsellor during training is to be able to receive counselling from peers and from a fully qualified counsellor. To be a good counsellor, if you couldn’t share your innermost thoughts you could not get to the depths needed by traumatised clients. I shared things about myself that I could never dream of. At times I was ashamed, embarrassed and lonely, but I came out of it as strong as I have ever been and with the realisation I was struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder [PTSD] and depression.

“It’s like a recycling bin on a computer. If you get rid of a lot of unneeded information that clutters the system up, you can start from scratch and reboot yourself. The PTSD never leaves you, but when you become aware that it is hanging about ready to strike, you can accept the struggle along with the genuine acceptance of your trauma.”

After qualifying, Stewart counselled peoplefor about four years. “The vast majority were people in their forties and fifties. Much of it was about abuse they suffered as a child.

“In many ways the work was very rewarding. You have to work with them to get the full story out. After a few sessions they start trusting you. It was good for them and good for me to be able to get to the root of their problems. I think because of my background nothing could ever surprise me. It wasn’t difficult, it was a privilege. And it showed there was another side to me.”

Stewart thinks many of his former colleagues will be amazed to hear that the tough guy copper they knew became a counsellor.

Another surprise may be that he is now an author. Stewart’s debut novel – a pacy thriller called Credible Justice: Fighting Back – has just been published, under his pen name Gerry Stewart. The sequel will be out this year and the third book is being written.

Profits will be shared between the Police Dependants’ Trust and research into medical condition Chiari Malformation, which affects the grandson of a friend.

Stewart chose the Police Dependents’ Trust partly because of his former colleague PC Bill Barker, who was swept off Workington’s Northside Bridge during the 2009 floods. “I used to work with him in west Cumbria. He was a nice fella. Very laid back but very good at his job.”

Stewart’s books concern a team of law enforcement agents who turn vigilante. Is there an element of wish fulfilment on the part of the author?

“I think society allows the criminals to get more of a free rein than they should,” he says. “I think the vast majority of people believe more should be done for the victims.”

He reflects that both during and after his police career he has worked with victims of one kind or another. “I’m one of life’s rescuers. I did have a resolve to instil justice, because of my loathing of what victims had to go through.”

Having to retire early gave Stewart an unwanted insight into rough justice. So did another incident when he was still in the force.

Some people found out where he and he wife Fiona – a serving police officer – and their children lived.

“About six of them came to the house to shout abuse at me and my family. That was the first time since I joined the police that I felt vulnerable, because of my family. I arrested the ringleader. It ended up with him being found not guilty of a public order offence.

“I had a year of hell after that. As soon as he was found not guilty then, quite rightly, my actions had to be investigated, because he was making allegations of assault against me. I was under formal investigation by the complaints and discipline department. It was frightening. I thought ‘I’m becoming a victim myself here’.

“I questioned my purpose as a police officer, especially when we ended up having to move house. Justice was not served, the effects of which stay with me today.”

Stewart was exonerated but the experience left a sour taste. Even so, he misses the job’s sense of purpose and its buzz. “You had to get through anything you felt to get that job done. I went to crown court once. I’d got hurt by a knife. I was asked ‘Why did you chase him?’ ‘Because that was my job.’ That’s how I felt. That’s the character I became. I’d have been letting myself down more than anybody else if I hadn’t gone after him.”

Wasn’t he scared? “Anybody who says they’re not scared is a liar. There’s no such thing as a tough guy who doesn’t have feelings.”

  • Credible Justice: Fighting Back is published by New Generation and available from Bookends, Castle Street, Carlisle.