When Heston Russell returned from war, he thought the hardest part was over. He was wrong.

Growing up, Heston Russell didn't think he'd be destined for military greatness. Despite coming from a long line of veterans, his childhood dreams ranged from becoming Batman to being an Astronaut. But then came high school, and things changed for the worse.

"I went through a phase of being overweight and unpopular," he shared on Mamamia's True Crime Conversations. "I often say I'd go back and burn my high school to the ground metaphorically if I could. It was just such a terrible time where I just didn't know who I was."

Listen to Meet Heston Russell: The Veteran Falsely Accused Of War Crimes

It was during those difficult teenage years that Heston began to see the military as his path forward.

"Being brought up around dad and his mates and their sons and all the aspirational men in my life… I kind of saw myself self-actualised, or at least the most aspirational version of men in my life being those in the military."

So, in 2003, a 17-year-old Heston marched into the Australian Defence Force Academy, armed with a fake ID and ready to reinvent himself.

"I loved ADFA. I loved the military college the year after even more," he recalled. 

Watch: Australia says sorry for military abuse. Post continues after video.

Unlike high school's popularity contests, the ADFA offered a fresh start, where everyone began at "a common starting line."

Suddenly, "the fat unpopular kid from high school was very good at doing things practically, learning things quickly, and others were forced to be my friend, including living with me as well. So, it was fantastic."

After his regular army service, Heston completed special forces selection in 2010 and became a platoon commander in the Commandos. He led the November platoon; a responsibility he took incredibly seriously.

"My job as a platoon commander was to be an expert in leadership and planning," he explained.

Afghanistan was a surreal experience for Heston.

"Living with this sense of paranoia wherever you step... you know, could be an explosion," Heston described. "Our mindset was not wanting to harm others and making sure you're doing right by your own skills and drills."

The bonds formed in combat were unlike anything civilian life could offer. "You truly trust these people with your life," he said.

But the brotherhood was tested in 2012 when tragedy struck with the loss of his colleague Scott James Smith.

"He was killed, he was blown up into 1,000 pieces over 300 metres," Heston recounted.

As the enemy attacked following the explosion, "the burliest alpha male commandos up there fighting to keep the enemy back while the other half were on their hands and knees with the most tender hands picking up every little piece of Scott."

The loss hit Heston hard. "I remember when Scott died I felt angry and then immediately I felt failure because I was his commander. I was meant to bring him home, even if we were around the same age. And I carried that with me for such a long time."

Through it all, Heston was fighting another internal battle. As a gay man in the hyper-masculine world of special forces, he kept his sexuality private.

"I was a major and I just made the decision that I didn't need that public affirmation of accepting my sexuality within a workplace where I saw it only potentially being something that brought uncertainty."

He became what colleagues jokingly called "a bit of a unicorn. You know, Australia's only ever special forces officer who was gay that we know of."

Bryan Seymour, creator of The ABCs of Heston Russell podcast, noted just how "scared" Heston was "of any of his colleagues finding out that he was gay".

"He hadn't fully accepted he was gay yet," Bryan told Mamamia. "That internal battle was raging inside him intensely, even as he was under fire, shooting at the enemy, dodging IEDs and bullets."

In 2019, Heston retired from the military to build a civilian life. But the transition wasn't easy. "I immediately traded this secret identity of being a special forces officer and commando... for a society which rapidly became about selfishness and entitlement," he explained.

Gone were the life-or-death decisions, replaced by the mundane: "My biggest job is to take my sausage dog for a walk. It's very hard coming down from that level of performance."

Then came the bombshell that would change everything.

On October 21, 2020, exactly eight years after Scott Smith's death, Heston woke to his phone "buzzing off the table" with messages from his former platoon members.

The ABC had published a story alleging that the November platoon had unlawfully killed an unarmed prisoner in Afghanistan.

"It was devastating. It was like a bomb went off within our group," Heston said. "All of a sudden, the only public record about your platoon and your service [was] the allegation that you're a war criminal."

The impact rippled through families too. "I had soldiers saying to me, 'Hey, my daughter just came home from school where this was discussed by her teacher and others, and she said that that's my daddy's platoon and little kids were calling her dad a war criminal.'"

Heston pointed out glaring inconsistencies in the ABC's reporting. The allegations came from someone claiming to have witnessed events from a helicopter gunship at night.

"How did he physically see that? You can't carry someone once you've hog-tied them. Like there are just all these impracticalities to it."

Despite the risks, Heston decided to fight back. "To take on the media is a fight too far for so many just given how much of a strong platform they have," he noted. "It was actually more dangerous for the life I wanted to live back home to take up this fight than it was to fight in actual combat."

After a lengthy legal battle, Heston won his defamation case. But victory felt hollow when the ABC issued what he considered a half-hearted apology: "They're apologising that I took offence, which is pretty insulting, to be honest."

Today, Heston advocates for veterans accused of wrongdoing. "Can we not simply agree to afford those who've been in combat the presumption of innocence, and due process to have any evidence brought before a criminal court? That's the simple ask."

Now, Heston's story is being shared by Bryan Seymour on The ABCs of Heston Russell.

"Heston absolutely had no idea what he was in for," Bryan told Mamamia of the podcast. "The first time Heston heard any of the interviews or any of the content was when he listened to the finished podcast. And it has to be that way, because the quickest way to switch someone off is to listen to them tell their own story. And that's not because people are dishonest; it's because when it's your story, you tend to tell it from a very myopic, one-sided point of view.

"So, for that reason, Heston couldn't be involved in the writing or the production of the podcast, and he really trusted me completely. And thankfully, he's delighted with the final result."

Bryan hopes listeners find strength, motivation, and inspiration from Heston's story.

"Each time in his life when he's faced a challenge that would overwhelm many of us, he's managed to hang in there and overcome it, and it's the way he's done it and the way he's talked honestly about it that I think will really resonate with people and give them a tool to help fight the battles in their own life."

Feature Image: Getty