(3 weeks, 6 days ago)
Commons ChamberIn Huntingdon, one in nine households has a veteran in it. That astonishing figure illustrates the historical link between our armed forces and a constituency that still has RAF Wyton and two United States air force bases, RAF Alconbury and RAF Molesworth—legacy bases that can trace their history back to the second world war. I am hugely proud to represent such a vibrant veterans community.
My own service was as an infantry officer in the Royal Yorkshire Regiment. I served in the British Army during the most kinetic period of operations since the Korean war. Operation Herrick 11 in Afghanistan was a difficult tour. In Sangin, our battlegroup lost 30 soldiers; a further 170 were wounded. I remember being in the operations room when two new battle casualty replacements arrived on a resupply helicopter. I did not stop to have a brew, or help them settle in; my interaction with them both was fleeting—transactional. It was an everyday occurrence, and I thought little more about it.
A fortnight later, on Tuesday 15 December 2009, I was manning the operations room, and over the radio came an all-too-familiar message: “Contact IED. Wait. Out.” There follows a pause that lasts an eternity. You know somebody is now fighting for their life; they might already be dead. You know that you can do little other than stand up the quick reaction force and wait to find out how grave the situation is. A suicide bomber had ridden his motorbike into the checkpoint and detonated the bomb, instantly killing the two Afghan soldiers manning the checkpoint and fatally wounding two of our soldiers providing cover. I pressed our commander on the ground for an update. To my eternal regret, I was quite short with him, and continued to harry him for a sitrep. I did not know at the time that he was trying to give lifesaving first aid to one of those soldiers while under fire.
The medic that day tried valiantly to save both soldiers. Ignoring the bullets cutting the air around her, she calmly moved between each casualty, determined to do all she could to care for them. The weight of enemy fire increased. With flagrant disregard for her own safety, Bushbye nevertheless continued to move between the casualties, personally administering CPR to one of the soldiers. For her actions, Lance Corporal Sarah Bushbye was awarded the Military Cross.
Rifleman James Brown was 18 years old. He had arrived on that helicopter. He had been in Sangin for less than two weeks. Age shall not weary him, nor the years condemn. I have always promised to remember him, and to give him the opportunity to live on that he sadly never had. We have a duty in this House to consider the ramifications of committing our soldiers to operations. I do not recount this story to dissuade, but to put a human face on the price it costs. They were the best of us, and the very least we can do is remember them.
I call Tom Rutland to make his maiden speech.