I thank Mr Speaker for allowing me to have this Adjournment debate, although it seems to be a rather two-edged weapon tonight. I thought I was in a good mood, until I saw the time that we would have to do it, but I am not alone—I am with lots of friends—and I am particularly pleased that the Minister responding, my hon. Friend the Member for Aldershot (Leo Docherty), is a very good friend of mine and new in the Ministry, so he is having a bit of, shall we say, battlefield inoculation.
At about 4.30 am on 7 December 1982, I helped to pull a young woman called Tina Collins out of the wreckage of a pub called the Droppin’ Well in Northern Ireland. She had recently been married to 20-year-old Clinton Collins, my company clerk, who I had promoted to lance corporal the day before. I was then a major in the Cheshire Regiment serving at Ballykelly in Ulster. To celebrate Clinton’s promotion, he had taken Tina to the Droppin’ Well for the evening, until, at about 10 past 11, a huge bomb blew the place apart. Tina and Clinton were together and she later told me that he had shielded her with his body when the explosion occurred. Maybe he did; I hope so.
Clinton was killed—I think, almost immediately—and Tina survived, although in great shock. I was the incident commander and it took us about five and a half hours to recover Tina from where she was lying, under concrete beside the still body of her husband. In all, 17 people were killed that evening and 11 of them were soldiers, six of them from my own company. What happened that night has marked me for life and I will never forget the horror of it.
Then, on 1 July 2009, the Defence Secretary announced in this place that recognised next of kin of service personnel killed on operations would qualify for a commemorative emblem called the Elizabeth Cross. Tina Collins, of course, received it, and it was my real honour to have her visit me in Parliament after I became an MP in 2010. Regimental headquarters of all regiments, particularly thinking of the Cheshire Regiment, have contacted most of the next of kin of their soldiers killed since 1948—the date from which the emblem has been awarded—and appropriate awards have been made. That emblem is made of a silver cross rather like the size of a Military Cross, which my father was awarded. When I sit in my office and look at my father’s decorations on the wall, I always think of the Elizabeth Cross as well. The emblem comes in a large form about two inches square and a miniature form. It is accompanied by a scroll signed by Her Majesty the Queen bearing the name of the person who lost their life in the service of their country.
All I can say, and the Minister will agree with me here, is that anyone I have met who has been given this badge wears it with huge pride, and I—and we all—hope it is of some, albeit limited, succour to them. But it does not make sense to me that those who protect us in non-military uniforms, such as the police, fire and ambulance services, should not have a similar arrangement for their own next of kin if they are killed in the line of duty. I think so, and so do many other colleagues in this place. To that end, I have worked alongside my right hon. Friend, and good friend, the Member for Rayleigh and Wickford (Mr Francois) to try to get support for this, and I thank him. After all, in my view, there are far too many people killed in what we might call the blue light services who leave people behind.