Emergency Services Personnel: Awards for Next of Kin

Debate between Mark Francois and Bob Stewart

Monday 26th April 2021 Commons Chamber

[Bob Stewart (Beckenham) (Con)]

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.

Even late last week, Jack Daw, a paramedic, was killed in the village of Moreton on Lugg when answering a 999 call. An object smashed through the windscreen, killed him in the passenger seat and hurt the driver. The matter is still being investigated, but the media report that it may not have been a deliberate act and was an accident. Our own Police Constable Keith Palmer, George Medal, was killed in New Palace Yard on 22 March 2017. He had a wife and children, and I think Mrs Palmer could qualify for an award.

I gather that, between 1986 and 2013, 26 firefighters were killed attending fires in the United Kingdom. Most of them, of course, had close loved ones, so how about an award similar to the Elizabeth Cross for the blue light services? By blue light services, I mean the police, fire and ambulance services in the first instance, but the award might be expanded to include the coastguard and other organisations that rescue people, such as the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, as well as mountain and mine rescue teams. The award could be given to recognised next of kin with similar criteria to that necessary for the award of the Elizabeth Cross—in other words, their loved ones were killed in the line of duty. I suggest that, if this idea is taken up, the award should be of the same quality as the armed forces’ Elizabeth Cross, which is somewhat splendid and much prized by those who wear it. It seems that the cross—please, not a medal; a cross is so much more distinctive—would look good in silver, designed along equivalent lines to those given to the next of kin of armed forces personnel. In short, it must stand out as special, and so it should.

I have not found one Member of Parliament who has reservations about this proposal. Surely, the next of kin of blue light service personnel who die in the service of their country are just as deserving as armed forces personnel who die for the same reason. Personally, I believe that, at this time, the award might be called the Prince Philip Cross, with the permission of Her Majesty, of course. Based on what I gather about the institution of the Elizabeth Cross in 2009, it may not need legislation, but would it not be appropriate to include it in the Queen’s Speech on 11 May?

[Mr Mark Francois (Rayleigh and Wickford) (Con)]

rose—

Death of PC Yvonne Fletcher

Debate between Mark Francois and Bob Stewart

Tuesday 23rd February 2021 Commons Chamber

[Bob Stewart (Beckenham) (Con)]

On 17 April 1984, Woman Police Constable Yvonne Fletcher of the Metropolitan police was fatally wounded by a gunman. He was hiding in the Libyan People’s Bureau, which was in St James’s Square in London. In this debate, I want to remember her by talking about her life and her tragic death, as well as making a request that she, even now, be considered for a posthumous gallantry award. I do not intend to speculate about who was responsible for pulling the trigger, as I believe there is now very little chance of bringing the murderers to justice, much as I would dearly like to see that happen.

Yvonne Fletcher was born on 15 June 1958. Her parents, Michael and Queenie Fletcher, lived in Semley, Wiltshire. Yvonne was the oldest of four daughters, and from the age of three, she told her parents that she wanted to join the police. It was her primary ambition in life. By the time she was 18 and a half, she tried, but she was 1½ inches too short to reach the height required; she needed to be 5 feet 4 inches, and she was 5 feet 2½ inches. Disappointedly, she applied for any police service that she could get into, which included the Royal Hong Kong police. Yvonne’s persistence paid off, and the Metropolitan police waived the height requirement in her case. She must have been very special for them to do that.

After training and a two-year probationary period, she was confirmed as a regular woman police constable. After being given her warrant, she spent most of her police service working from Bow Street police station. It was there that she became engaged to another police officer, Police Constable Michael Liddle. For some six years, Yvonne was based at Bow Street, where she was hugely respected and liked by her fellow officers. I gather she was called “Super Fletch”, and that was because, first, they liked her, and secondly, she was very good at her job.

On 17 April 1984, Yvonne was asked to reinforce a police operation monitoring a demonstration of mainly Libyan students who were protesting about the regime of Colonel Gaddafi. The main part of that demonstration was occurring in St James’s Square. A detachment of about 30 police officers was sent to St James’s Square, including Yvonne Fletcher, her fiancé Michael Liddle, and members of the police diplomatic protection group. The anti-Gaddafi protesters consisted of about 75 people, and their demonstration started at about 10 am. Many of the demonstrators were wearing masks to make sure that they could not be identified by photographers standing at the windows of the Libyan People’s Bureau. Gaddafi’s regime had a habit of murdering opponents, wherever they were in the world, so this precaution was very sensible.

The police had erected barriers. The demonstrators were behind them, and Yvonne and her colleagues were in front. The demonstrators carried anti-Gaddafi banners and chanted slogans against the dictator. I think that there was actually a pro-Gaddafi protest there as well. Suddenly, at 18 minutes past 10, automatic gunfire was discharged from two windows of the People’s Bureau. It was presumably directed at the anti-Gaddafi demonstration, but a round hit Yvonne Fletcher. I suspect that the gunman simply sprayed the area and did so without really looking out of the window, with their hands up so that they could not be identified. The bullet entered Yvonne’s back and tore through her body. She collapsed on the road. Several other people were wounded, although none was as badly hurt as Yvonne.

The police shepherded the demonstrators into Charles II Street, while several of Yvonne’s police colleagues tried to save her. I quote from an email that I received from PC John Murray, who was with her at the time. Forgive me for quoting directly, but he did email me last week. He said:

“Yvonne was shot from the bureau, and fell to the ground. I went over to her. I was only feet from her and cradled her head. The square quickly emptied, leaving three of us with Yvonne. We carried her into a nearby street and I went with her in the ambulance to hospital. In the ambulance there were other Libyan students who were bleeding from their wounds, but she seemed more concerned about them. ‘Keep safe. Be calm,’ she said.”

What incredible courage and conduct for a young woman of 24 or 25. What an example—to the Metropolitan police themselves and to every one of us. I am in awe of that, and I suspect that anyone listening is too.

At 10.40 am, Yvonne had been taken to Westminster Hospital. For some of the time going there, she was conscious but in huge pain. As she was being transferred from the ambulance on to the trolley in the hospital, the spent bullet that had travelled through her body fell out of her uniform. Yvonne was taken straight into the operating theatre, but it was too late; she died on the operating table at about midday.

Yvonne’s hat and four other officers’ helmets were left lying in the square during the ensuing siege of the bureau. At the time, I was a staff officer in the Ministry of Defence. In the days that followed, I remember—I suspect others do too—the images of the hats and helmets in St James’s Square being shown repeatedly in the media, on the television and in newspapers.

Ten days later, on 27 April, a police officer called Clive Mabry, acting against specific orders, ran in and retrieved Yvonne’s hat from in front of the bureau. Getting that hat back was hugely symbolic and doing that meant one heck of a lot to the policemen and policewomen. Typically for any uniformed organisation—I have been in one myself—Mabry was admonished, but praised too. He was fined seven days’ pay by the police for his indiscipline, as well as being given the freedom of the City of London for doing the right thing. The hat was placed on Yvonne’s coffin for her funeral, which took place later the same day in Salisbury Cathedral. Six hundred policemen attended that funeral.

Yvonne’s conduct exemplified the very highest standards of the Metropolitan police service. When she was mortally wounded, she seemed to care more about others who were with her in the ambulance than herself. What courage she displayed by saying to those trying to look after her that they should keep safe and stay calm. That was within minutes of her death. She did that when she must have been in the gravest of agony.

From my own experience of writing citations, may I suggest that a posthumous award of the George Medal could be considered, despite the passage of years, and because of Yvonne’s calm, courageous demeanour while she was grievously wounded, and dying? As so many of us remember, Police Constable Keith Palmer was murdered near here, in New Palace Yard, on 22 March 2017. He was awarded the George Medal posthumously. I believe there should be such an award for Yvonne Fletcher, who showed valour of a similar nature to that of Keith. Keith tried to stop the madman, although he was unarmed; it cost him his life. Yvonne was saying things and showing, in the way she behaved, how courageous she was.

[Mr Mark Francois (Rayleigh and Wickford) (Con)]

In view of my right hon. Friend’s elevation to the Privy Council, on which I congratulate him, I believe his recommendation carries even more weight. Some years ago, I was Veterans Minister at the Ministry of Defence. I was never a Minister in the Home Office; nevertheless, I pay tribute to Keith Palmer, and also to Yvonne Fletcher. For what it is worth, may I wholeheartedly endorse my right hon. Friend’s recommendation that her valour and conduct is wholly worthy of the award of the George Medal?

[Bob Stewart]

Thank you, on behalf of everyone who is campaigning. The more of us who say it, the better.