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Deepcut Barracks

rose to ask Her Majesty’s Government what action they propose to take about the deaths of soldiers at Deepcut Barracks in light of the report by Mr Nicholas Blake QC. The noble Lord said: My Lords, I have no doubt that many fine soldiers have emerged from the Princess Royal Barracks, but I think it is unlikely that the name Deepcut will become one of the great legends of the British Army. The grave allegations that have been made and the tragic loss of young, enthusiastic lives have cast a dark and no doubt long-lasting shadow over Deepcut Barracks, and they have not yet been investigated to the satisfaction of the bereaved families. My noble friend the Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State at the Ministry of Defence has dealt with these disastrous developments with great care and great skill, but I must tell him that he and his colleagues are committing a serious error of judgment in refusing a judicial public inquiry. But I hope to persuade them to change their minds. The Ministry of Defence is now assuring us that it is implacably opposed to bullying. That is fine, but that assurance is strikingly similar to the one given to me in the House of Commons nearly 20 years ago when, in 1988, I ran a national campaign against Army bullying. The Minister responded to me all those years ago by saying:"““Bullying is a serious offence . . . it forms no part of proper service life and we are clear that it cannot be tolerated””." Those fine words are echoed today. Yet look at what happened at Deepcut. If the Ministry of Defence had been implacably opposed to bullying and was vigilant, these tragedies may never have happened. Nicholas Blake has said that the soldiers were not bullied to death. Oh? But in chapters 7 and 8 of his report, he describes clear evidence of physical and verbal abuse which must have deeply affected many soldiers at Deepcut. One can understand the misgivings of bereaved families and their anxiety to discover the truth. The central issue now is whether, as the Ministry of Defence has suggested, we ““move on”” or, as the bereaved families insist, hold a judicial public inquiry into the tragic deaths at Deepcut. The Ministry has said that the families cannot have a veto on this issue. But equally, the wishes of the families cannot be dismissed. They are, after all, the greatest losers in this business. Any attempt by the Ministry of Defence to force closure would give the impression of an irresistible force meeting an immovable object. We do not want that collision; we want amicable agreement on a judicial public inquiry. The families are not alone. They are supported by the All-Party Group on Army Deaths and the organisation Deepcut & Beyond. I am secretary of the all-party group, and we keep in close touch with the families concerned. I can assure the House that there is no doubt about their commitment to the proposal for a judicial public inquiry, so any idea that we now ““move on”” is a pious hope, and one that is hopelessly impractical. The issue will never go away until we have the inquiry. These tragic developments are too serious to leave a major question mark hanging over the deaths and allegations for ever. The Government have stated their belief that the Blake review puts the matter to rest. It does no such thing. The Blake review lacked the full powers of a judicial public inquiry; it failed to be awarded those powers. It had no powers of subpoena, its scope was too narrow, and its proceedings were not held in public as a judicial public inquiry would be. The families believe, and so do many of us who support them, that the only way we can really find out what happened is by judicial public inquiry. The Government’s objections to a judicial public inquiry are distinctly unimpressive. They claim that it is ““not required””. It is not required by whom? On the contrary, it is required—indeed, essentially so—by the families and their many supporters in and out of Parliament. The Government also claim that a judicial public inquiry could be costly, but it is wrong to quibble about cost where death, truth and justice are concerned. Another weak government excuse is that a public inquiry would prolong the matter, but it would not prolong it half as long as the families’ campaign will. The families have been campaigning for four years now and can easily manage another four. At least the time spent on a judicial public inquiry would be limited, whereas the families’ campaign could be unlimited. At the inquest on Private James Collinson, the Surrey coroner said that the Ministry of Defence has nothing to fear from an inquiry held in public. If that is the case, we should have one. But if it does have something to fear, we should certainly have one. Either way, logic, justice and fairness point indisputably to the need for a judicial public inquiry. It is time for the Army, the Ministry of Defence and the Government to admit it and get on with it. Finally, I suggested to the Prime Minister 19 years ago on 2 November 1987 that there should be an Army ombudsman. At that time, the Army’s reputation was threatened by proven brutality, bullying and vicious sexual initiation rites, and I thought that an independent ombudsman was the best way of transforming the Army ethos and of restoring its reputation. But, inevitably, the Ministry of Defence objected. Now the Minister in the House of Commons, Adam Ingram, warns that we should not conclude that there will be an ombudsman. Such a crab-like, cautious approach to a truly independent figure fails to match the urgency of the need, and I hope that the Ministry of Defence will now honour the dead, honour the families and honour itself by agreeing to a judicial public inquiry.