JJ Chalmers: ‘Strictly will be daunting – but I've seen worse’

Over the ups and downs of his 33 years, JJ Chalmers has found himself in a few daunting situations. There was the first time he presented live TV – something he never thought he’d do, let alone become a familiar face on BBC and Channel 4. There was the time he competed, and won three medals, in the inaugural Invictus Games. The time he experienced “living in history” at the wedding of his friend, Prince Harry. And, of course, far above all, the tour of Afghanistan as a Royal Marine Commando, that culminated in the devastating explosion that changed his life.

But this evening, in front of millions of devoted (and, admittedly, grounded) viewers, he will go further than he’s ever been from his comfort zone, appearing on the hallowed Strictly Come Dancing floor. And probably wearing a glittery suit while he does it.

“It’s madness,” he says, “I have all the gear, but absolutely no idea. I generally always say, ‘yes’, and find out what the question was later, but this is something else…”

We have met in a cafe near the BBC’s headquarters in London. Chalmers – who normally lives in Edinburgh with his wife of five years, Kornelia, and their four- and one-year-olds – has just moved to the capital for the duration of Strictly, in doing so creating a ‘bubble’ with his partner, whom he’s not allowed to name yet but with whom he is, suffice to say, delighted to have been paired with.

The pandemic means that Strictly is a little different this year. There are fewer contestants, fewer weeks, no Blackpool, no Bruno Tonioli, and some changes to the set.

Behind the scenes pictures revealed celebrity contestants sporting visors during rehearsals, while professionals received their daily Covid-19 swab in head to toe in sequins – one positive test will see a couple booted out for good.

With restrictions changing daily, the show is having to prepare for every possible twist and turn. Plans are in place for a full audience, a socially distanced audience, and no audience at all. On weeks when the audience is allowed in, groups will sit at cabaret tables and be required to wear face coverings throughout.

Even the music has had to be rethought. There are too many members of Dave Arch’s band for them all to be able to fit on stage at a social distance, so parts of the musical numbers will be pre-recorded.

In order to keep contact at a minimum, the competing couples are in bubbles and ‘close contact cohorts’ – the latter a new industry term for people who need to break social distancing in order to do their job. Chalmers has moved to London for the duration of the show, and will live separately from his family for however long he remains in the competition.

“We’re both living on our own, then we come together as essentially a family unit,” Chalmers clarifies. That’s a relief to hear. The tabloids might just explode with ‘the Curse’ excitement if cohabiting were enforced. “Ha, wouldn’t they just?” For the record, he says Kornelia finds the whole thing hilarious – though this was before London’s new Tier 2 restrictions came in, meaning she can no longer ‘mix indoors’ with her husband at all.

Chalmers’ route to Strictly is surely one of the more unexpected and inspiring in the show’s history. Raised in Edinburgh, his parents, Liz and John, were in the Church of Scotland and Chalmers joined the military as an 18 year-old, to be instantly captivated by the culture of the Marines.

“I was raised in a house where you help others, you contribute to society. This was a way I could do that, in a way that challenged me,” he says. “I joined at an interesting time, in 2005, when nobody knew what was happening with Afghanistan. About halfway through training, it all started kicking off in Helmand Province.”

He felt destined for conflict, almost longing for it after years of training as a Royal Marines Reservist – time in which he also gained an education degree and briefly became a design and technology teacher – and seeing his peers come and go.

His turn came in 2011 when, aged just 23, he took off for a six month tour of Afghanistan. “It’s scary, but that’s mainly because you think every little crack in the ground is going to kill you. After an amount of time you learn the environment and become less scared,” he says, “but bombs were going off every single day, and it was happening to people around you. Afghanistan is a game of rolling the dice; eventually your day will come.”

Chalmers’ day came only eight weeks after he arrived. Out on foot patrol in a group of 12 in Helmand, he was helping clear a Taliban bomb-making factory when one of his fellow Marines stepped on an IED (improvised explosive device). Chalmers was suddenly thrown to the ground, in “unbelievable pain, my whole body feeling like it was on fire.”

A friend who attended the wounded group later told him he looked like he’d “been peeled.” In reality, the explosion had crushed an eye socket, burst his eardrums, destroyed his right elbow, blown off two fingers on his left hand and left him with burns all over and two holes in his legs. But of the casualties, he was a lucky one: Marine Sam Alexander MC and Lieutenant Ollie Augustin lost their lives.

“The emotions don’t really hit when I talk about the mechanics of the day, or the injuries. What happened to me, terrible as it is, was a good result. It wasn’t unfair, there’s so much to be positive about. But there is very little positivity to come out of the world not having Sam and Ollie. That’s unfair.”

Chalmers was airlifted to hospital, before enduring 30 operations, many lasting over 12 hours, to recover from life-changing injuries. One operation involved saving his right arm by literally sewing it inside his torso. Surgeons opened his abdomen like an envelope, folded skin over the arm, then cut away small sections over six weeks, as his body pumped more and more blood into the limb.

As part of his rehabilitation he tried various sports, eventually settling on recumbent cycling (sitting, pedalling in a tricycle). He then met Prince Harry, who told him about his plans for the first Invictus Games in 2014, and Chalmers agreed to be a spokesperson – a role that eventually led to broadcasting. The two became quick and firm friends.

It’s why he was at the Sussexes’ wedding in 2018, losing his mind at the fact that, seven years earlier, he’d listened to Harry’s brother’s wedding on a wind-up radio in a tent in Afghanistan.

“It was bananas. There was the living in history part of it, me being there, knowing that the moment Meghan walked past me down the aisle will be played forever, and also the fact that this is just my mate, someone I care about and love, getting married. How awesome is that?”

Not as awesome, I put forth, as the idea of the Duke doing Strictly one day. Chalmers laughs, but Harry is getting into TV...

“Amazing. I have no idea if he would, but he does love a challenge. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him cut shapes.” They were on Invictus Zoom calls during lockdown, and he “seems to be grand” in California, “like me, he’s got a family, our sons are similar ages, you know?”

Chalmers is irrepressibly cheerful. I've interviewed most of the former soldiers and special forces types who’ve gone into TV (Chalmers is a presenter on everything from sports to the BBC’s war remembrance events), and he might be the least scary of the lot. I tell him I mean it as a compliment.

“Well, you don’t want to make me angry…” he responds, but can’t help saying it in a lovely, gentle way. Strictly audiences will adore him. At the moment, he isn’t quite sure what to expect, or even how his injuries will encumber his paso doble – training has only just started in earnest – but he’s desperate to get started. It’ll be daunting, yes, but Chalmers has seen worse.

“Do you know what? Until I walk down those steps, I don’t think I’m going to know just how scary it is. I’m just excited.”

Strictly Come Dancing starts tonight at 7.50pm on BBC One

Who will win Strictly Come Dancing 2020? Predict the winner here