Peter Rhodes: Take no prisoners
If the same standards had been applied in the 20th century, guilty soldiers would have been numbered in their thousands - Peter Rhodes on the conviction of a Royal Marine for killing a Taliban guerilla in Afghanistan.
WHAT do you call a group of thespians? On Loose Ends (Radio 4) Richard E Grant gave us the collective noun, "a moan of actors."
THE BBC, looking for soldiers' reactions to the conviction of a Royal Marine for killing a Taliban guerilla in Afghanistan, turned to the online Army Rumour Service, affectionately known as AARSE. They found many soldiers and ex-soldiers agreeing that the incident was plain murder. But I dare say some of the older soldiers thought: "There but for the grace of God go I." This military court brought the traditions of English justice and 24/7 surveillance by helmet-cameras to bear on a corner of a dusty, lawless foreign field 3,500 miles away. If those same standards had been applied in the 20th century, the guilty soldiers would have been numbered in their thousands.
IN THE First World War, prisoners of war were murdered on an industrial scale. Before major operations, orders were issued that prisoners, even if wounded, were not to be taken. A veteran of Gallipoli, who was 100 when we met, recalled: "One Turk came at me with his bayonet but when he was about five yards off he either stumbled or fainted so I stuck my bayonet in him. You see, we'd been told to kill or be killed, show no mercy, take no prisoners."
In the Second World War, particularly after bitter fighting or when enemy soldiers were gravely wounded, troops committed summary executions. Snipers, SS troops, machine-gun crews and anyone operating a flamethrower could expect little mercy. A sergeant who fought at Kohima told me: "They had to send an officer out with the patrols, to make sure the men brought the Japs back as prisoners instead of . . .." He left the sentence unfinished but the meaning was clear.
In the 1982 Falklands War a wounded Argentine soldier was caught in an explosion at a British medical centre. He was on fire, flailing in agony and beyond help. A sergeant in the Royal Army Medical Corps grabbed a rifle and shot him dead. No action was taken against him.
EVEN when the killing is lawful, the men who do it may never forgive themselves.
A soldier awarded the Military Medal for bravery in Burma once told me of the guilt he felt at ambushing and killing hundreds of Japanese: "When I first came home, I kept thinking I could see these dead bodies at the bottom of the garden. I thought the police would be coming after me because I shouldn't have killed them."
Geoffrey Wellum DFC, a wartime Spitfire pilot, waited until 2002 before publishing his memoirs, First Light. He writes with the wisdom and compassion of an old man who saw saw many of his generation die young. Wellum describes how he and another Spitfire pilot crept unseen behind two German fighters and blew them out of the sky. He wrote: "This was just about as callous and as calculating as you can get, just plain cold-blooded murder."
War is no more than legalised murder. The only consolation is that, even when dealing with a savage and merciless enemy like the Taliban, our troops today are probably more restrained and better behaved than any soldiers in history.
LENGTHENING-festival syndrome. By now, we are accustomed to Halloween lasting a week, Bonfire Night spreading over a fortnight and Christmas beginning on the first Sunday in September. Over the weekend I heard references to "this season of Remembrance " and even "Remembrancetide." Hang on to that poppy. You may need it sooner than you think.
