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THE IRAQ INQUIRY - THE CROSSROADS TO TRUTH AND JUTICE
Date added: Monday 1st February 2010 written by
DAVES DIARY leading up to the Iraq inquiry.
WEDNESDAY
Not enough hours in a day today. I guess when
it comes to arranging travel and documents I am at the bottom of the class, thankfully
there was help for me with the steady hand of my wife to take over. This left
me to go and get the hair cut, a vital necessity if you had seen my hair
previously.
From twelve o’clock mayhem ensued as the world
and his wife was calling me for comments about Friday and the forthcoming
inquiry, an important event for the families who have lost loved ones and an
equally important day for this country.
To be honest I was glad when I could finally
escape from the pressures and climb into bed, but sleep won’t come easy, the
brain won’t shut down and I am out of sheep to count now, so maybe I will put
my laptop on and see who of my friends are on facebook.
THURSDAY
That cursed alarm is sounding off at me again
and this time I must get up, get motivated and otherwise prepare myself for an
eventful day. This started at 6.30, the normal time for me to usually get up
and about, but nothing today is anything but normal as I am about to embark on
a journey that will eventually lead me to my nemesis, my battle, just like
David of the Bible when he stood against Goliath with a mere sling shot.
It is a journey that will start at Exeter coach
station to board the National Express coach that will take me to London, to prepare myself for the
meeting at the cross roads, where truth and justice will I hope meet, namely
the QE2 building in Westminster where I shall come face to face with Tony Blair
on Friday.
The journey up was pretty uneventful, with the
traffic flowing steadily, and I was more than thankful that I was able to get a
seat right at the front of the coach where I could stretch out my legs to ease
the pain of the arthritis in my knees. But I have to pull myself up and stop
complaining when I think of what so many of our servicemen have gone through in
Iraq and are going through in the sand pit that is Afghanistan. Arthritis
doesn’t come into the equation when I think of the many servicemen who have
lost limbs, or worse, have lost their lives.
On reaching the outskirts of London there comes
a change of life, gone was the rather more sedate life of the South West in
exchange for the life of the capital of England, fast, seemingly charged with
the electricity of a modern day people packed city in which people seemed to
have no time for them selves, no time to stop and think, not a life that would
come easy for me I have to say, if I took into account the number of times I
was jostled and barged by seemingly android human robots, with fixed stares on
their faces guiding them around the many streets.
Having finally reached my destination I have to
register at the hotel where I m staying, this is called the Union Jack Club. It
is an impressive sky scraper building situated next to Waterloo station, of
modern design but with the history to go with it. It features many photographs
of past military and non military people of note, and if I had had the time it
would have been interesting to delve into the past life of those many names
that adorn the walls.
Having registered I made my way up to my room which
was to be my home for the night, this is very tastefully set out and everything
that I need is to hand. Having regained my composure somewhat, with a cup of
coffee in my room I decided to go back down to the reception area to see if I
could find any of the families that I knew were coming for the inquiry.
As I was walking around the hotel on my
explorations I met two ladies who were there with the Ssafa support group who
were there for the weekend, so we got chatting together about the things they
do by way of supporting our many servicemen’s families and servicemen who
served in Iraq and are currently serving in Afghanistan.
Such lovely people, and I got to talking about
my grandson and how he gave his life in Basra in February 2007 and it is hard
to believe that we are in 2010 now, how time seems to fly doesn’t it. I walked
with the ladies to the area of the hotel which they had reserved still chatting
together as I was keen to hear more about Ssafa, as I explained that Ssafa was
one of the four service charity’s that Operation Braveheart supports.
Having met up with some folk, I was about to
bid my farewell and head for the hotel dining room for dinner when I was
approached by the lady who initially set up the support group and she invited me
to join them in their dinner that evening, I didn’t wish to intrude but they
rather insisted so I gracefully accepted the invitation and it turned out that
I was indeed glad that I did.
Within the Ssafa support group they will find
many friends, and much support from those, who like I and my own family have
lost a loved one and I was so honoured that I could talk to them, give them a
hug and at least try to help them make sense of al those feelings and tears and
pain that only someone in such a position feels and knows.
So it was, after a quiet drink with some of my
new found family of friends, the I took the lift up to the 14th
floor to my room, heavy of heart, and thoughtful of mood about the unfolding
events to come the next day. Full of so many feelings, of love, of compassion, and
too full of hope and yet also of fear for tomorrow, as deep down there are
nagging doubts, born of the knowledge of the past, that somehow Tony Blair will
not even begin to tell it as it was. OH GOD, please give these my family of
friends the strength and courage to face what tomorrow will bring.
FRIDAY
It seems to me that London is a city that never
sleeps, as my morning started so it seemed, as the night ended, sounds of
police and ambulance sirens echoed and bounced off the surrounding buildings,
maybe with a little less traffic noise at five in the morning when I awoke.
Sitting on the edge of the bed I sat there deep
in thought and saying a prayer to our Lord above for peace of heart for all
those families who were gathered together for the ensuing day to come, it will
be a difficult time I know, but as a family we will do as we do in our own
personal families, we love and support one another, and I know that I shall
have to be ready to hold out that hand of friendship, an arm of support, and a
soft shoulder to cry on to help ease that pain that will no doubt come to so
many today.
Breakfast is at seven so time to shower and get
changed, pack the bag, and after generally making sure I have left nothing
behind I finally make a cup of coffee, sit down in front of the laptop to
record my thoughts and wait for a phone call to come through from Radio Devon,
which I had totally forgotten about.
A good but rather hurried breakfast ensued as
time now was pressing us as we had to get to the QE2 building to be in our
seats by ten past nine. Most of us had decided to share taxi’s to get us there
so three friends and I set off for the short journey from the hotel to our
destination.
From what I had learned we could expect to see
demonstrators from the stop the war campaign, and quite possibly those with
extremist views too, security would be tight, and it would take a while to get
into the building. As we approached the QE2 building we could see and hear,
even above the traffic noise, the chants and beating drums of demonstrators gathered
outside.
It’s a bit of an error to say that security
would be tight; it was in fact a ring of steel, of police with body armour and
guns, to dogs and Ariel observation from circling helicopters and no doubt
other security agents which melt into the background unobserved.
To gain first access we were asked to go around
the block to avoid possible contact with demonstrators, which would bring us to
the first security checkpoint where we had to show our documents and ID. This
done we had to go through it all again many times, till we reached the main
door and the body searches and to walk through the x-ray machine, well I assume
it was x-rays that were going through us. Then to deposit any coats or bags
that might have been brought in through the screening till finally I had to say
bye to my friends as I headed to the inquiry room itself for the morning
session.
Finally I am at the crossroads, where truth and
justice will meet, well that is what I hope to see eventually when the inquiry
finally finishes and its report published. I am now seated in the inquiry room
and it is quite small really as I had come to expect something somewhat bigger.
My mind is in turmoil as I glance around the room to see if I can spot any
family, members seated close to me.
I am sat behind and to the left of the hot seat
in which Tony Blair will sit which reminds me of the Magnus Magnusson programme,
Mastermind. That solitary black seat facing the inquiry team and I wondered to
myself, would this man Tony Blair be such a mastermind, at the end of the
inquiry will he come away with full marks, and an unblemished record? Time will
tell.
In such circumstances as I have mentioned, I
will not, as I had hoped to do, have the opportunity to look Tony Blair
straight in the eye, face to face, as he came into the inquiry room from a door
to the left of me. He walked in eyes straight ahead, neither glancing left or
right, and sat down on that black leather chair. My only vision of the face of
the man will be from the large screen TV set up to the left of the inquiry
team.
Watching the man directly for the first time,
he seems to me to be suave and glib, and for now composed, no doubt he will
have been well schooled and briefed by his personal team if the large file
placed in front of him is anything to go by. I sensed, more than saw a smugness
in his facial composure, the lips closed but wide, thankfully he newer showed
that tooth paste advert grin he often wears, maybe it was just as well he
didn’t.
In answering the committees questions his body
language spoke volumes to me as he raised and used many hand gestures, one in
particular caught my eye, that of the full open hand held toward the inquiry
team as though to say, hang on, wait a minute, this is how it is, stop with the
questions already.
As we now know Mr Blair faced tough questions,
more so in the afternoon session when the probing was rather more intense than
in the morning session, in which I myself was present at. Such questions
covering the legality of the war, sanctions leading up to the war, and the
question of WMD and terrorism.
It seems to me that the catalyst that sealed
the decision of taking out Saddam Hussein stemmed from the reaction and
aftermath of the 9/11 atrocity that struck the United States that year, which
told the American people that though there were a large country they were and
are still equally vulnerable to terrorism in all its form as the rest of us
are.
There are indeed many facets to terrorism, many
countries that have a political axe to grind when it comes to the western
hemisphere, so I have to ask the question, why focus directly on Iraq? The Iraq
war brings more questions than answers, I am not qualified to delve into the
depths of such questions but like you, I have opinions and thoughts, there are
many academics and political commentators who will one day fathoms such
questions in years to come, such questions as, why only Iraq, why when we were In the mode of
sanctions did we give money directly to the regime for medicines and support
for the Iraqi people, knowing full well it would not go to where it would be needed,
why did we not give this support directly in kind?
The inquiry committee will draw its own
conclusions at the end of the inquiry which I feel will in no way help to ease
the pain and suffering of the many servicemen’s families directly involved with
this tragic war. I came to this inquiry with an open mind, which remained open
though clouded with doubt at times as the day wore on, and I was prepared to
give Tony Blair the benefit of that doubt, until that is in the latter part of
the afternoon session
Prior to the conclusion of that session, Mr
Blair was asked by Sir John Chillcott if he had any thoughts any suggestions to
give to the team before the closure.
Not one word came forth from his lips to
explain to the families present at that inquiry why there loved ones had to
die, not one word of sorrow, not one word of regret, that so many of our
servicemen gave their lives in the sands of Iraq. That was the one thing that
every family who has lost a loved one was hoping to hear, THAT SIMPLE WORD, SORRY.
Mr Blair should have been in that family room
right then, listen to the sobs of grief, listen to the cries of despair and
gasps of astonishment from so many broken hearts. Brave men and women have died;
brave men and women are still dying in Afghanistan and for what.
It takes a brave man and honest person to say
“I AM SORRY” and to mean it, by saying sorry and admitting you made a mistake
does not bring shame upon you, it in fact brings you respect, I personally have
no respect for either Tony Blair, Gordon Brown, who incidentally was chancellor
in Tony Blair’s Government of the day, blame must also lie at his feet and it
is to be hope that he will speak truthfully when he appears next at this
inquiry.
Rightly or wrongly, I have many personal views
on terrorism, the political structure of world governments, but one thing is
sure. Unless we as a world of civilised countries pull together as ONE UNITED
NATION to react to dispel terrorism in all its forms then this world of ours
will one day end up destroying itself. Do you want that for your children? Or
indeed, your children’s children for that matter? Think about that question
very carefully today, because it does matter, very much.
Civilised countries just cannot sit back, back
off from indigestible decisions, and leave it to someone else to fight a war
that is a concern of every living person on this planet because one day it will
rear up and bite you hard.
I am neither pro or anti war. I am a soldier’s grandfather, of whom I am
immensely proud. I am proud of our forces, our servicemen, and our protector’s I
will honour and respect them always.
What I am not proud of however and have NO
respect for, are Governments who put our forces in harms way, ill equipped or
prepared for war, and this war was no exception. Blame does not lie at the feet
of the military, though Tony Blair insists he consulted with the MOD and the
generals, who he says told him they were ready for war, when the crunch came
for our troops there was no serious back up from his Government to their needs,
and that equally applies to the actions taking place in Afghanistan today.
I just see the world as it is, lost and alone,
in need of leadership to guide us through the many changing facets of this
world of ours. Though we may agree or disagree with painful decisions, it is
collectively that those decisions should be made, through the United Nations
assembly.
Only under deep and thoughtful discussion when
we face calamitous decisions will we come together as one people for the good
of all. This is the function of this United Nations assembly, to prevent rouge
nations seeking their own objectives, to stop gung ho nations who have been
hurt to jump to ill thought out conclusions and take the world where perhaps it
should not go. It is a tragedy that so many innocent people suffered in Iraq,
so many of our countries protectors killed unnecessarily by such ill thought
out decisions and so many families left bereft of the knowledge that Tony Blair
was sorry for the loss of our servicemen and women in his ill thought out
actions.