Executed at Dawn (22 page)

One hundred years later it is still possible to find examples where the inquisitive are being thwarted. On Wednesday 9 April 2014, under the headline ‘MoD tries to block its own book on Helmand',
The Times
reported that the Ministry of Defence was attempting to block a highly critical study of British and American ‘naivety' in the Helmand district of Afghanistan. The author claimed that the ‘MoD was more interested in protecting its reputation than learning from a conflict that has cost 448 British lives'. If the words ‘learning from a conflict'
and ‘448 British lives'
are replaced by ‘learning from practice' and ‘302 British and Commonwealth lives', then it could just as easily be a piece about British Army executions on the Western Front from 1914 to 1918. To progress, there is a need to be reflective, posing questions to gain understanding that can then change future practice – something which those in Whitehall seem reluctant to do, and therefore nothing changes.

In 1919 the army had shown that it was aware of the public mood and the likely consequences for its ability to retain the death penalty, as evidenced in the extract from the Darling Committee Report included in Chapter 8:

Even during the continuance of hostilities there was very strong feeling both in the country and in the House of Commons against the infliction of the death penalty for military offences. Now that hostilities have ceased it can confidently be stated that the effect on this country of a death penalty might lead to an agitation which might be difficult to control and in all probability would jeopardise the prospects of maintaining the death penalty for military offences in time of peace when the Annual Army (Act) comes before the Houses of Parliament.

Despite this, the army still maintained its support for the death penalty, although it proved to be a losing battle. In stages, from 1928 to 1930 and then finally in 1998, it was eventually abolished. Abolition was not to be the end of matters because there was then the Shot at Dawn campaign that sought pardons for those executed, with the exception of those sentenced for murder or treason. This campaign was opposed by some who could see no purpose, for a variety of reasons, in the granting of general pardons, but their position was somewhat undermined by the fact that officers had been pardoned by King George V, so a precedent had been established. Eventually, in 2006, the campaign achieved its purpose. I believe that those who played a part in the campaign to get those executed pardoned deserve to be recognised, because they took on the establishment and succeeded.

To say that I have enjoyed this research would be wrong, given the subject matter, but I have found it extremely interesting and at times my response to what I have read and discovered has been one of anger, sadness and frustration. In writing this book, I have deliberately chosen to look at matters post-sentence, which means that I have not written about the back stories of those condemned – their offences, their personal circumstances at the time, or the courts martial process – unless some context was required.

I am sure that the majority of people reading this book will have experienced a similar range of feelings by the time they have reached the end. This is not the most glorious chapter in the history of the British Army and the War Office/Ministry of Defence. In terms of transparency and the control of information it seems that the lessons of the past have not been learnt, but at least now the immediacy and variety of news coverage ensures that the public is better informed, despite the best efforts of the generals and the Whitehall ‘machine'.

In all probability, my book and its analysis will infuriate some, who, as a result, will argue that, coming from a non-military background, how could I possibly understand the pressures on those army officers who were charged with fighting a war that was unlike any that had gone before. My answer would have to be: of course they are right in terms of my background, but I would make the point that I did not have any preconceived ideas when I started the research for this book and my analysis is based solely on what I have read and discovered. In any event, my book was written to inform a wider audience who, if sufficiently interested, will then engage in some wider reading around the subject and form their own opinion, and maybe answer for themselves some of the questions my research and analysis has posed.

And if research does raise more questions than it answers then let me pose a final, if possibly inconvenient, question. Babington in his statistical breakdown of those executed gave a figure of thirty-one soldiers executed on the Western Front for murder. Those executed for murder were never included in the campaign for pardons because murder was an offence punishable by death in both the military and civilian worlds, which leads to my final question. How certain can we be, given the inadequacies of the courts martial process, that those charged with murder were properly investigated, tried and sentenced?

Finally, I think my research has given me an understanding of why David Lewis feels that there is still unfinished business where British Army executions in the First World War are concerned.

Standing in a Flanders Trench, the young soldier

peered into the gloom, as he waited for stand down,

which would signal the dawn, and rest from duty.

His mind turned to thoughts of home.

Sounds of shells, gunfire, war,

blotted out by warm caressing visions,

of a kitchen, glowing in lamp light.

His mother busy preparing tea.

The Old Brown Teapot, warming on the hob.

His thoughts turned to dreams,

and he fell asleep at his post.

To be awakened by shaking and shouting,

the Sergeant and Officer demanding explanations.

Inevitably the Court Martial followed.

The verdict as expected ‘Guilty',

punishment death by firing squad.

They pinned a white patch on his chest,

tied him to a chair, then read out the charge.

He did not hear it, his mind was fixed on the Old Brown Teapot.

In the little cottage, the fire had gone out,

his mother paused, shivered as she rekindled the fire.

In the bright flame she saw her son's face,

she picked up the teapot, the face disappeared,

suddenly she knew, the teapot fell from her grasp.

She sank to the floor to pick up the pieces.

For sixteen years she had treasured them both.

Now they were gone, Lost to her forever.

As powerful as that poem is, perhaps the final word should go to a veteran by the name of Harry Littler:

It's worried me all my life. Anyone who has been on a battlefield would know. Sometimes those chaps didn't know where they were, never mind what they were doing. The sight of some of those poor wretches – some of whom had given their all – their nerves shot to pieces, having to face death by firing squad because of a decision by unknown ‘red tabs' and branded cowards, in my opinion was an infamy.

With permission, I will make a statement about executions of soldiers and others in the First World War.

I doubt whether anyone who has not gone through the awesome experience of war can ever truly imagine its effects on the emotions of human beings. Some 9 million troops from all sides died during the Great War. Almost 1 million British and Empire soldiers fell, heroes to their nations and a testimony to the awfulness of war.

We rightly remember them still, not only on 11 November, but in ceremonies throughout the year and throughout the globe. Today, I am sure that I am joined by the whole House in once again paying tribute to the courage and fortitude of all who served from throughout Britain and the Empire.

For some of our soldiers and their families, however, there has been neither glory nor remembrance. Just over 300 of them died at the hands not of the enemy, but of firing squads from their own side. They were shot at dawn, stigmatised and condemned – a few as cowards, most as deserters. The nature of those deaths and the circumstances surrounding them have long been a matter of contention. Therefore, last May, I said that we would look again at their cases.

The review has been a long and complicated process, and I have today placed a summary in the Library of the House. I will outline some salient features.

Between 4 August 1914 and 31 March 1920, approximately 20,000 personnel were convicted of military offences under the British Army Act for which the death penalty could have been awarded. That does not include civilian capital offences such as murder. Of those 20,000, something over 3,000 were actually sentenced to death. Approximately 90 per cent of them escaped execution. They had their sentences commuted by their commanders-in-chief.

The remainder, those executed for a military offence, number some 306 cases in all. That is just 1 per cent of those tried for a capital offence, and 10 per cent of those actually sentenced to death. Those 300 or so cases can be examined, because the records were preserved. In virtually all other cases, the records were destroyed. It is the cases of those 300 that many hon. Members, notably my hon. Friend the Member for Thurrock (Mr. Mackinlay), and others outside the House, including the Royal British Legion, have asked us to reconsider with a view to some form of blanket pardon.

Let me make it plain that we cannot and do not condone cowardice, desertion, mutiny or assisting the enemy – then or now. They are all absolutely inimical to the very foundation of our armed forces. Without military discipline, the country could not be defended, and that is never more important than in times of war.

However, the circumstances of the First World War, and the long-standing controversy about the executions, justify particular consideration. We have therefore reviewed every aspect of the cases. We have considered the legal basis for the trials – field general court martial. The review has confirmed that procedures for the court martial were correct, given the law as it stood at the time.

The review also considered medical evidence. Clearly, if those who were executed could be medically examined now, it might be judged that the effects of their trauma meant that some should not have been considered culpable; but we cannot examine them now. We are left with only the records, and in most cases there is no implicit or explicit reference in the records to nervous, or other psychological or medical, disorders. Moreover, while it seems reasonable to assume that medical considerations may have been taken into account in the 90 per cent of cases where sentences were commuted, there is no direct evidence of that, either, as almost all the records of those commuted cases have long since been destroyed.

However frustrating, the passage of time means that the grounds for a blanket legal pardon on the basis of unsafe conviction just do not exist. We have therefore considered the cases individually.

A legal pardon, as envisaged by some, could take one of three forms: a free pardon, a conditional pardon or a statutory pardon. We have given very serious consideration to this matter. However, the three types of pardon have one thing in common – for each individual case, there must be some concrete evidence for overturning the decision of a legally constituted court, which was charged with examining the evidence in those serious offences.

I have personally examined one-third of the records – approximately 100 personal case files. It was a deeply moving experience. Regrettably, many of the records contain little more than the minimum prescribed for this type of court martial – a form recording administrative details and a summary – not a transcript – of the evidence. Sometimes it amounts only to one or two handwritten pages.

I have accepted legal advice that, in the vast majority of cases, there is little to be gleaned from the fragments of the stories that would provide serious grounds for a legal pardon. Eighty years ago, when witnesses were available and the events were fresh in their memories, that might have been a possibility, but the passage of time has rendered it well-nigh impossible in most cases.

So, if we were to pursue the option of formal, legal pardons, the vast majority, if not all, of the cases would be left condemned either by an accident of history which has left us with insufficient evidence to make a judgment, or, even where the evidence is more extensive, by a lack of sufficient evidence to overturn the original verdicts. In short, most would be left condemned, or in some cases re-condemned, 80 years after the event.

I repeat here what I said last May when I announced the review – that we did not wish, by addressing one perceived injustice, to create another. I wish to be fair to all, and, for that reason I do not believe that pursuing possible individual formal legal pardons for a small number, on the basis of impressions from the surviving evidence, will best serve the purpose of justice or the sentiment of Parliament. The point is that now, eighty years after the events and on the basis of the evidence, we cannot distinguish between those who deliberately let down their country and their comrades in arms and those who were not guilty of desertion or cowardice.

Current knowledge of the psychological effects of war, for example, means that we now accept that some injustices may have occurred. Suspicions cannot be completely allayed by examination of the sparse records. We have therefore decided also to reject the option of those who have urged us to leave well alone and to say nothing. To do nothing, in the circumstances, would be neither compassionate nor humane.

Today, there are four things that we can do in this House, which sanctioned and passed the laws under which these men were executed. First, with the knowledge now available to us, we can express our deep sense of regret at the loss of life. There remain only a very few of our fellow countrymen who have any real understanding or memory of life and death in the trenches and on the battlefields of the First World War. This year marks the eightieth anniversary of the end of the war, and we are recalling and remembering the conditions of that war, and all those who endured them, both those who died at the hands of the enemy, and those who were executed. We remember, too, those who did their awful duty in the firing squads.