Blair Mayne: Posthumous Victoria Cross

I beg to move,

That this House has considered the potential merits of awarding a posthumous Victoria Cross to Blair Mayne.

It is a pleasure to serve under your chairship, Madam Deputy Speaker. I thank the Backbench Business Committee very much for the opportunity to secure this debate, as well as Members who have taken time before the recess to come and make a contribution. I am truly thankful for the recognition of the importance of this debate in this Chamber. This is not merely about a Newtownards boy and his exploits, although I will tell of those; this is about how we as a House honour our veteran heroes and ensure that that honour is properly recorded.

At a time when veterans can feel that their service is a thing of shame, the importance of recognition goes to every service personnel member throughout the country. I know that that means so much to so many in Newtownards and my home town of Strangford, and I am thankful that this debate has been deemed worthy of being held here in the greatest seat of democracy. I am pleased to see the Minister for Veterans and People in his place, honourable and gallant Member that he is, and I thank him for coming along. I am also pleased to see the shadow Minister and the Liberal Democrat spokesperson in their places.

I am no writer like Damien Lewis, whose work on Blair Mayne and the foundation of the Special Air Service is unparalleled. However, allow this Ballywalter boy to retell the stories that I heard the old men in the town rhyme off in my youth, as a crowd of us listened in awe about how one of us could achieve so much. Imagine being an eight, nine or 10-year-old, with all these old soldiers from the second world war telling all these great stories, and always having wanted be a Royal Marine commando, as I did as a wee boy—I never achieved that, by the way; the Minister for Veterans and People did. I managed to get to the Ulster Defence Regiment and the Royal Artillery. That was not second best, by the way, but it was not as good as what I wanted as an eight-year-old.

We listened to the stories of those soldiers, and I ask Members, briefly, to listen to a scene of what happened. The air is filled with the screams of the dying and the stench of the dead. You are gasping for breath as your lungs take in gulps of gunpowder-tinged air. You are lying in a ditch. The enemy is firing so often without break that the rat-tat-tat of bullets merges together. You know that each searing breath may well be your last. The officer you look to for direction is dead. Deep in your heart you believe that it will take a miracle to lift you from this scene of hell.

Suddenly, you hear something different: the roaring of an engine, a jeep. With your last vestige of energy you lift your head, and with stinging eyes you make out the form of a jeep cutting through the madness and mayhem. The man on board fires at the enemy like an avenging angel. He slows the jeep down at the ditch, and on his way past he calls, “I’ll pick you up on the way back.” Nothing flowery—no grand words, just a promise that perhaps it is not time for you to go just yet.

With a hammering heart, you watch as the man in the jeep forces the enemy to retreat, despite the fact that the enemy holds all the advantages of position, men and firepower. As the enemy retreats, the jeep turns round. This time it stops. The avenging angel jumps to the ground amid a hail of bullets and holds out his hand. Shaking, you grasp that hand as you are bundled in with your 11 colleagues and driven wildly to safety. As you look to see what form your angel takes, you see this crazy Ulster man—we are not all crazy, by the way, but we are all very brave, although I wouldn’t be as brave as this man. It is Paddy Mayne, and everything falls into place in just that one second. He is a man known for bravery and courage, and for leading his men to victory—a man who is, and in your eyes and the eyes of your surviving family will forever remain, a hero of epic fame.

That is a true story about Lieutenant Colonel Blair Mayne’s actions, as seen by one of the men who was saved by Paddy, as he was affectionately known. The story does not take into account that before Mayne and Lieutenant Scott had driven the jeep into oncoming enemy fire, Mayne had summed up the situation. That was what he could do: he could lead from the front, as a leader of soldiers, with courage and determination. He was a man who was born for that time.

Ever a man of initiative and action, Paddy entered the first house that formed the enemy defences. After checking to ensure that the enemy was dead, he moved out into the open and fired into the next house, taking out those behind the enemy fire, before moving in to ensure that none of the enemy remained. Paddy Blair Mayne was a colossus of a man who stood tall, commanded his men and inspired bravery and loyalty.

After ensuring a clean sweep, he turned his attention to how best to save the trapped point men of the squadron. He knew that the enemy was well ensconced in the forest, with no way to surround them, and he departed on what seemed like a suicide mission to rescue those men. Not only did Paddy manage to rescue his colleagues, but he forced a retreat from the enemy and helped the allies to advance at a time when they were held up.

It has been said that a level-one award, such as the Victoria Cross, is given only when the chance of death is 50% or more. A report from Brigadier Calvert, dated June 1945, said:

“There can only be one explanation why Colonel Mayne was not killed by what had already proved deadly and concentrated fire: the sheer audacity and daring which he showed in driving his jeep across a field of fire momentarily bewildering the enemy.”

He continued:

“Colonel Mayne from the time he arrived dominated the scene.”

That is the man he was: he was there and he had no fear.

“His cheerfulness, resolution and unsurpassed courage in this action was an inspiration to us all”.

That is an account from the soldiers who watched that colossus of a man jump out and rescue them, and win the day for the allies in their advance in Germany. Undoubtedly, it seemed a suicidal mission to rescue his comrades and ensure that the enemy retreated further, but Colonel Mayne’s mission was a complete success. In the words of Brigadier Calvert:

“Not only did he save the lives of the wounded but he also completely defeated and destroyed the enemy.”

Lieutenant Colonel Mayne’s story is the stuff of which legends are made—legends that we know to be true. When we were boys in Newtownards and Ballywalter many years ago, we looked to be that person. It is the stuff of which many of us dreamed as young boys and acted out in our gardens. Blair Mayne was certainly a hero of mine as a young child, many years ago. His actions were those of a man who put others first, and who went above and beyond the call of duty.

There is absolutely no doubt that his actions on that day were heroic, and worthy of recognition and commendation. That is why Brigadier Calvert recommended that Mayne be awarded the highest award, the Victoria Cross. Mayne was informed that he was to be granted that well-deserved accolade, and he informed his mother accordingly, which made her even more proud. Who is more proud of anyone than their mum? Mums think that whatever their children do is brilliant—my mum is the same. I hope that is true, by the way.

I have told that war story because it is a factual, historical account. The BBC’s “SAS: Rogue Heroes” dramatisation about a founding member of a covert special raiding squadron—a hero many times over, reputed to have single-handedly destroyed 130 enemy planes and commended for the highest military award—is a global success. However, six months after he was recommended for the award, a terrible mistake happened. That mistake stripped Blair Mayne of his hard-won honour and much of his self-esteem.

The award of the Victoria Cross by the 1931 royal warrant is bestowed upon those who display acts of conspicuous gallantry and for a “signal act of valour” in the presence of the enemy. Paddy Mayne had more than attained that standard, but the mistake lies with the word “signal”, defined in the Oxford English Dictionary as

“an event or statement that provides the impulse or occasion for something to happen.”

In other words, a “signal” event is not a planned event.

Mayne certainly qualified for the award, but the word “signal” was misread as “single”. It was a clerical error and we are very clearly putting forward that viewpoint. Mayne had been accompanied in the jeep by Lieutenant Scott, who provided covering fire. Therefore, Mayne had not acted single-handedly, which meant that he was deemed to be ineligible for the award. That change has been queried on a number of levels over the years, and yet it appears that that alteration resulted in Mayne being stripped of the award. Instead, he was given a third bar to his Distinguished Service Order.

I have seen the evidence that Lieutenant Colonel Blair Mayne was supposed to get the Victoria Cross. On his citation, “VC” was marked, but stroked out for the commendation. That is important evidence. A team of historians has been working hard on sourcing those documents, which I made available to the Minister this morning—although, to be fair, I think he had them beforehand, so he now has two copies. I put on the record my thanks to Damien Lewis, to Patric McGonigal, who is the grandson of one of the SAS originals, and to David Robinson among so many other local historians invested in this issue.

Brigadier Calvert recommended that Mayne should be awarded the VC for his actions in rescuing his men. He submitted signed statements from three officers who witnessed those actions: Lieutenant Scott, Lieutenant Locket and Lieutenant Surrey-Dane. Calvert referred to the difficulty of assessing the military significance of Mayne’s actions in relation to the overall thrust of the Canadian division:

“I enclose a citation for the VC for Paddy Mayne. I have gone into this thoroughly with his officers and I think it was an outstanding piece of work. One almost expects these things from Paddy. The main point is, however, as to how much it affected the battle.”

Simonds agreed with him. Major General Vokes also wrote in support of the citation; in his opinion, Mayne’s spirited leadership and dash were a most important contribution to the success of the operation. He said:

“I observed the very marked respect and regard in which he was held by his officers and men. In my opinion this officer is worthy of the highest award for gallantry and leadership.”

I am not sure whether the TV programme “SAS: Rogue Heroes” really portrayed Blair Mayne in the way that it should have—he never used bad language, for instance—but he was portrayed as a leader of men. Nobody can be in any doubt that he was a man who led his soldiers, showed leadership and gave confidence and encouragement to those around him.

The citation was signed by Brigadier Calvert, Major General Vokes, Lieutenant General Simonds, General Crerar—the commander of the 1st Canadian army—and Field Marshal Montgomery of the 21st Army Group. The documentation that I have clearly outlines that officials overseeing the matter misinterpreted the VC rules as needing a “single act of valour”, whereas they in fact need a “signal act of valour”. The difference is in that wording. We are not here to throw aspersions: we are here to outline the system and how it works and how clerical error led to this happening. That means that the denial was based on a procedural error or an error of understanding, and that wrongdoing needs to be readdressed properly. One historian has noted it was clear that “VC” had been marked out because of that clerical error.

It is important to note that I do not ask the Ministry of Defence or His Majesty’s Government to overturn the entire apple cart on “no retrospective reconsiderations”: we are simply asking for an error to be corrected in this specific and singular case. We are all aware of other posthumous VCs being granted. For instance, Private Richard Norden was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross for Australia for his bravery during the Vietnam war, specifically for his actions during the battle of Fire Support Base Coral in 1968. The basis is that an error occurred that can be corrected.

We are not the only people who cannot understand why the medal was not awarded. King George VI asked how it was that the Victoria Cross “eluded” Paddy and inquired why the award was downgraded. When the King asked Winston Churchill to explain the demerit, he is said to have been shocked and saddened by the glaring omission. Inquiries were also made by several officers who could not understand what had happened. They did not have the access that we now have to the files, which clearly show the intent and the redirection.

In short, while a “signal act of valour” was originally specified, a “single act of valour” never was. That clerical error is the reason and the thrust behind what we are asking for. By the time of world war two, the VC would be awarded

“for most conspicuous bravery or some daring or pre-eminent act of valour or self-sacrifice or extreme devotion to duty in the presence of the enemy”.

What a man! What a hero and a courageous person, with bravery such as many will never witness. As a wee boy, that is just what I wished to be. All that was confirmed by the witnesses involved in reporting on Blair’s actions at Oldenburg. Furthermore, the VC can also be awarded posthumously. Those are the three reasons I give: the word “single”, the fact that the VC would be awarded for “conspicuous bravery”, which was never in doubt, and the fact that the Victoria Cross can be awarded posthumously.

There are no other recorded reasons why the recommendation to award a VC was not actioned. Her late Majesty Queen Elizabeth’s uncle, Major General Sir Robert Laycock, was at the time a serving officer in the forces. He wrote a letter in which he stated that Blair Mayne deserved a Victoria Cross—he earned it with his bravery—and would have received one had the proper authorities known their job. I say that very respectfully; I always do that. As a consequence, Blair Mayne did not receive the greatest honour that this country can bestow. No matter how much being awarded the highest French accolade meant, being given and then stripped of his British honour haunted Mayne for the rest of his life.

The memory of Blair Mayne lives on, and not just through the BBC series. Many in my town argue that while he was rough, he would never have cursed in front of a lady, and his comrades did not fear him—instead, they revered him. His memory is cherished in the hearts of Ards people, and there is a statue of him in Newtownards town centre. His image adorns walls that once boasted murals depicting paramilitary paraphernalia. Blair Mayne’s history—his service in uniform, his bravery and his conviction—are on the walls of Newtownards, including many of its community centres. When the council decided to build a new leisure centre, it was named the Blair Mayne leisure centre, because his sporting prowess is a matter of pride to us all. When a coffee shop opened a couple of years ago in Newtownards town centre, it was called Colonel Paddy’s, because we all revere him—by the way, its coffee is excellent. I live on coffee and fried eggs. His legacy is important to the people of our wee town.

Members may be aware that rule 40.12 of the civil procedure rules explicitly permits fixing clerical mistakes in judgments or orders, or errors arising from any accidental slip or omission, as long as the intent of the original decision holds. That is really important—it is the thrust of the debate. The original decision was to allow the VC, and the law allows for slips of the pen to be corrected. Letting an error stand, as in this case, perpetuates an injustice, especially if the mistake skewed the outcome, which it has.

I am very conscious of the time limit that you, Madam Deputy Speaker, and others have asked me to conform to, so I will conclude. It is said that King George VI asked Paddy Mayne how it was that he had not received a Victoria Cross, and he answered in a manner that sums up this courageous and honourable man: “I served to my best my Lord, my King and my Queen, and none can take that honour away from me.” Today in this House, we have the chance to restore what was his. It is time that the memory of a man who lived for his colleagues and his country was restored to its full glory through the restitution of the Victoria Cross.

I thank the hon. Member for Strangford (Jim Shannon), both for securing this debate and for opening it in the way that he has. Well done! I know that this is an incredibly important subject to him, and during his retelling of Paddy’s activities in war, I could almost see the “Commando” comic from my childhood before me.

I do not intend to speak for too long; this will be really just a long intervention. When the hon. Member for Strangford asked me to support this debate, I did not really know who Paddy Mayne was. While the hon. Member is a lovely guy, his politics can sometimes be a little bit dodgy, so rather than saying yes on the spot, I decided to do some homework. I could see quite quickly that the case was strong, and I felt bad for even having to research it. When I got home that week, I spoke to my son, who quietly pointed out that we had watched the TV programme about Paddy Mayne together, and that he had also bought me a book about Paddy Mayne for Christmas. I have still not read it—do not tell him.

The week after that, I visited Redford barracks in Edinburgh South West. I met a serviceman there from Northern Ireland, and I took the opportunity to ask him what he thought. He was offended that I even had to ask him about it, because he felt the case was so strong. While I do not speak for him, he was a little bit upset about the way in which Paddy was depicted in the second series of “SAS: Rogue Heroes”, and made the point about the language specifically. I have asked residents in my constituency what they thought about today’s debate and what the trajectory should be, and overwhelmingly, people got back to me saying that the case was strong. There was a real feeling that Paddy was overlooked because he was sometimes forthright in his opinions, because he sometimes challenged authority—which is not always a good thing in the forces, I guess—and above all, because his face sometimes did not fit. One of my constituents said to me that Paddy deserves the Victoria Cross, and if he wins it, that will be a victory for all the people who were overlooked because they went to the wrong school or came from the wrong background, and had that counted against them.

I agree with my hon. Friend about the need to do research. The podcast “We Have Ways of Making You Talk” gives a much better introduction to Paddy Mayne. Does my hon. Friend agree that we need to look at the rules of recognition for those serving in the special forces, and ensure that some of the difficulties that will arise in publicly recognising those very brave troops are taken into account?

I will try to listen to that podcast on the train home this evening. The issue about those in the special forces often comes up, but I have absolute trust in them to follow the rules of engagement and the rules of war at all times, and I respect them and all our armed forces for the work they do.

To conclude, we are not here to demand that Paddy gets a VC, or to demand that he gets it on behalf of all others who have perhaps been overlooked—particularly not this year, the 80th anniversary of the second world war. We are saying that it is time to look at the issue with fresh eyes. That should be done through a formal process—not here in this House, but by people who understand the matter much better than us—to ensure that a fair decision is reached. The hon. Member for Strangford has been clear about what that fair decision should be.

I rise to support the hon. Member for Strangford (Jim Shannon) in his call for a posthumous VC for Blair Mayne. We are speaking about a man whose courage and leadership helped shape one of the best fighting forces in the world. Although the name of Lieutenant Colonel Blair “Paddy” Mayne of the SAS is etched into military history, one honour that he did not get is the Victoria Cross, and today’s debate is an opportunity to look at the circumstances and potentially correct that.

Mayne, as the hon. Member said, was a soldier of rare calibre. As one of the founding members of the SAS, he led countless raids deep behind enemy lines in north Africa and Europe, often at great personal risk. He led from the front, destroying enemy aircraft, supply lines and infrastructure, often with nothing more than a small group of men and his sheer willpower. His character and courage are legendary, but those have, as has already been mentioned, been coloured and to an extent misrepresented in the recent BBC series through use of artistic licence.

While we consider the merits of awarding Blair Mayne a posthumous VC, I want the House to reflect on the citations from his Distinguished Service Order awards. He was first awarded it on 24 February 1942 for his leadership during a raid on the Tamet airfield in Libya. The citation said:

“The task set was of the most hazardous nature, and it was due to this officer’s courage and leadership that success was achieved.”

The first bar to the DSO was awarded on 21 October 1943, in recognition of his actions during Operation Husky in Sicily. The citation said:

“In both these operations it was Major Mayne’s courage, determination and superb leadership which proved the key to success.”

The second bar to his DSO was awarded on 29 March 1945 for his command of the 1st SAS Regiment in France, which co-ordinated operations with the French Resistance. The citation said:

Let first draw Members’ attention to my membership of the Writers’ Guild of Great Britain.

I am delighted to have been called to speak in this debate about the merits of awarding a posthumous Victoria Cross to Lieutenant Colonel Robert Blair Mayne, best known as Paddy Mayne. I know that the hon. Member for Strangford (Jim Shannon) feels passionately about this issue, and he spoke about it very eloquently. I am a member of the Backbench Business Committee, which hears applications from Back Benchers for debates on all kind of topics, and I have to say that this application caught my particular attention.

I was a television screenwriter before I was proudly elected to this place, and I am a huge fan of the hit television drama “SAS: Rogue Heroes”, created and written by Steven Knight. It is a vivid retelling of the story of the formation and achievements of Britain’s Special Air Service, which was formed by David Stirling as the ultimate military disrupter. In the second world war, the SAS changed the nature of the fight against the Nazis in Africa and beyond. The drama is among the best illustrations of why the United Kingdom is a powerhouse of the creative industries. The writer, cast and crew of “SAS: Rogue Heroes”, working for the production company Kudos, created a hit show that captured the irreverence, humour and bravery of the SAS, and retold the story of those brave men for a new generation.

I am sure that as I make this speech, bots will be crawling over Steven’s fantastic script to train artificial intelligence models, just as they have crawled over my scripts and those of thousands, indeed millions, of other screenwriters. They will be stealing copyrighted material, hard written and hard won by real humans, scraping it from under our noses, without permission, to make money for their AI companies. If only we had the AI equivalent of “SAS: Rogue Heroes” and the likes of Paddy Mayne to protect us! We will just have to rely on something that is a little more tame but still has teeth, and that is good legislation.

I rise to speak about a man whose name is etched into the very DNA of the British special forces—a man of exceptional courage, legendary leadership and unrelenting service to this country: Lieutenant Colonel Robert Blair Mayne, affectionately known as Paddy Mayne. I commend my hon. Friend the Member for Strangford (Jim Shannon) for securing the debate. There is no better man to take this issue forward and to try to right the wrong that was done to Paddy Blair Mayne.

Mighty men have come from Newtownards, in the form of Paddy Blair Mayne and my hon. Friend. In Northern Ireland, we talk about rough-cut diamonds, and Paddy Blair Mayne was just that. He was certainly not perfect—none of us are—but when it comes to his service, he certainly led from the front and was a mighty man. He was one of the founding members of the Special Air Service, and helped to build it into the elite force that we know and revere today. His leadership during world war two changed the course of modern warfare. He was a warrior in the truest sense: fearless, inventive and utterly devoted to his men.

Mayne was awarded the Distinguished Service Order not once, but four times—an honour that is almost unheard of. He was a man who led from the front, and who raided behind enemy lines with such ferocity and tactical genius that even his enemies respected him. He destroyed over 100 aircraft in daring missions across north Africa. He risked everything time and again—not for medals or recognition, but because it was his duty. However, despite the eyewitness accounts of unimaginable bravery under fire, and the legacy that he left behind in the SAS and British military history, he was denied the Victoria Cross, and this wrong has never been made right. It is a lingering and grave injustice.

The Victoria Cross is the highest award for gallantry in the face of the enemy. It is meant to honour “the most conspicuous bravery” or

I thank the hon. Member for Strangford (Jim Shannon) for securing today’s debate.

The award of the Victoria Cross has an extraordinary impact on individuals and their families, friends and communities. I will give an example of my own from the town of Hatfield Woodhouse, where we are proud to have produced Corporal John William Harper VC. Corporal Harper served in the 4th Battalion of the British Army’s York and Lancaster Regiment during the second world war, and on 29 September 1944 he led his section in an assault over open ground against a fortified position. He led from the front, and repeatedly moved forward alone to establish the way forward before exposing his own comrades to danger. Unfortunately, Corporal Harper was fatally wounded in the assault, but his actions secured the success of the attack.

Hatfield remembers Corporal Harper by maintaining a twinning arrangement with the town of Merksplas in Belgium, where his gallantry took place. Memorials to him can be seen at the local St Lawrence church and at the site of the war graves, and local children still learn about “Harper VC” at schools in Merksplas and Donny today. Even in the last few years, a new extension to the Hatfield area was named Harpers Heath in his honour, showing that the memory is still important to the people of the town.

This is important as part of today’s debate because, as time moves on and new generations are born, the story of the Victoria Cross and the legends who receive it means we never forget their gallantry, and we never forget the gallantry of all the people who have served us. That is why this award of a Victoria Cross could make all the difference in recognising a hero such as Blair Mayne, who sacrificed so much for others, but also for the pride it brings to the community. Regardless of what the Minister says, I am so pleased that the hon. Member for Strangford, whom I call my friend, has been able to raise this today, and Blair Mayne’s efforts will be recognised in the Chamber and remembered forever.

I congratulate my neighbour the hon. Member for Strangford (Jim Shannon) on securing this important debate—we could almost smell the cordite in his opening remarks.

My first encounter with the Special Air Service was when, just as we were getting to the good bit, the John Wayne film on TV was interrupted, and it was over to Kate Adie as men in bug-eyed respirators ended the Iranian embassy siege on 5 May 1980, amid the thunder of flashbangs and the staccato rattle of small arms fire. As a journalist, I later met John “Mac” McAleese, who really was the man on the balcony, not—I hate to break it to Members—that bloke down the pub mumbling about the colour of the boathouse at Hereford, as Walter Mitty characters do. I also became friends with Colonel Clive Fairweather, second in command of the regiment. Sadly, both men are no longer with us, but in life one thing was obvious: neither was a reckless psychopath. They were hard men—yes, of course, for theirs is a lethal business—but rather more planning and preparation goes into tier 1 special forces than novels and TV would have us believe.

Controversy reigns over television’s brilliant “SAS: Rogue Heroes” and Blair “Paddy” Mayne’s depiction, but it is nothing new. There were all sorts of claims about the book “Bravo Two Zero” when it emerged after the first Gulf war. Was it fact or fantasy? Peter “Billy Rat” Ratcliffe, former regimental sergeant major of 22 SAS, told me, “Life in the regiment is not really about garrotting 200 sentries, you know.” “But you do know how to garrotte a sentry, don’t you?” I asked. In his Salford accent, he told me, “Oh, yeah, but I’d rather shoot you from a mile away—less chance of being compromised.” That was uncompromising, but careful, thoughtful and cunning too.

As such, these men are surely the inheritors of the spirit of Blair Mayne. For certain, he could be a wild man, especially in drink—there is a cottage on the Isle of Arran pockmarked yet by rounds fired from his service revolver after a surfeit of whisky—but it fell to Mayne to protect and indeed nurture the nascent SAS when its founder, Sir David Stirling, was a prisoner of war in Italy and the infamous Colditz. If Mayne were as unhinged as he is portrayed, he would not have been able to apply the quiet discipline needed to forge a bunch of rogues into an effective and elite fighting force. It strikes me that the only recklessness Blair Mayne displayed was for his own safety, never that of his men—his “Blades”, as SAS troopers are known.

I begin by simply acknowledging the hon. Member for Strangford (Jim Shannon) for tabling an early-day motion and securing today’s important debate. The hon. Gentleman has supported so many new starters in this House since we joined Parliament, so it is a pleasure to support him in his advocacy of this important cause today.

As we have heard from Members across the House, with his courage and bravery, Robert Blair “Paddy” Mayne stands alongside the greatest soldiers of our reckoning, past or present, and the heroism that he demonstrated during the second world war is rightly celebrated.

However, I want to take a moment to shine a light on a lesser-known but remarkable chapter of his life: the work he did with the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey. This chapter reflects his unwavering dedication to service and duty, but it also holds a special resonance for me personally. As a recovering academic with a strong interest in the UK’s overseas territories, an observer of the 2013 Falklands referendum, and a former Shackleton scholar, I have had the privilege of visiting the Falkland Islands on numerous occasions, most recently in 2023. During those visits, I have seen for myself the pristine wilderness and unparalleled beauty of the island’s wildlife, but above all the unwavering strength of the people who call the Falklands home.

In the aftermath of the second world war, one might have expected Robert Blair Mayne, having given so much in battles and skirmishes, to have sought the comfort of home, family and a well-earned rest, but that was not the direction he chose. Instead of stepping away from public service, he delayed his return to civilian life and joined the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey, a precursor to what is now the British Antarctic Survey. The organisation, which began life as a naval operation in 1943 under the codename Operation Tabarin, had an important strategic purpose. While its official mission had been to monitor enemy shipping, its true goal was to counter Argentine and Chilean territorial claims in the Antarctic and assert British sovereignty by establishing manned bases in the region. When the war ended, the operation transitioned into the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey.

I had not intended to speak in this debate, Madam Deputy Speaker, so forgive me for not being as eloquent as other contributors.

It is an honour to follow the hon. Member for Surrey Heath (Dr Pinkerton). He mentioned David Stirling, and it would be remiss of me not to mention, particularly while wearing this tie, that David Stirling was, of course, a Scots Guard—my own regiment, in which I spent 25 years.

I congratulate the hon. Member for Strangford (Jim Shannon) on securing this debate. For something that is 80 years too late, it is timely. He had me, to be perfectly honest, when he said that the King was confused and disappointed that Mayne had not been awarded the Victoria Cross. He had me when he said that Winston Churchill was equally confused, discombobulated and disappointed.

It was the mention of Churchill that put me in mind of a particular Churchill quote about medals:

“A medal glitters, but it also casts a shadow.”

That has been going round my head as I have listened to hon. Members, so much so that I went and found the whole quotation. It was from a speech given in this place on 22 March 1944. I quote:

“The object of giving medals, stars and ribbons”—

I will not do an impression by the way—

“is to give pride and pleasure to those who have deserved them. At the same time a distinction is something which everybody does not possess. If all have it it is of less value… A medal glitters, but it also casts a shadow.”—[Official Report, 22 March 1944; Vol. 398, c. 872.]

The way to get rid of shadows is to shine a light. I welcome the fact that the hon. Member for Strangford is shining a full beam light on the case of Paddy Mayne today.