When you sign up for a career in the military, you do so in the full knowledge that you might one day be called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice. Recruits are told explicitly about the risks they are taking and they pledge their oath of allegiance to the sovereign in the full knowledge of what one day might be asked of them.
But that explicit sacrifice comes with an implicit promise. That the organisation to which you are devoting the best years of your youth will look out for you, not expose you to unnecessary risks or take advantage of your vow to follow orders in protection of King and country. Fundamental to soldiers’ willingness to risk their lives is the knowledge that should the worst happen, their loved ones will be taken care of and supported. But all too often, the opposite is true.
You will have heard about the Post Office scandal, the cover up of the Hillsborough tragedy and probably the Infected Blood scandal.
But fewer people will be familiar with the story of the Chinook helicopter disaster in 1994 in which 29 soldiers, airmen and security officials lost their lives in an airframe that was unsafe to fly.
In the coming years, I believe that what happened on that foggy night in June on the Mull of Kintyre, will join the pantheon of national embarrassments where lives were lost needlessly, failings were covered up and families were left to fight while suffering from unimaginable grief.
In the lead up to the crash of the Chinook mk2, concerns had been raised about how safe the helicopter was to fly.
It was in the process of being brought in to replace the mk1 variant but test pilots had raised serious concerns about its safety and the MoD had grounded their trials aircraft the day before the crash. Chinook ZD576 should never have taken off on that fateful flight.
So grave were the concerns, that Flight Lieutenant Jonathan Tapper had asked for a mk1 version of the aircraft to be made available for the flight but his request was denied.
His co-pilot that night Flight Lieutenant Rick Cook had on several occasions asked his father for reassurance that he would look after his family should the worst happen and had increased his life insurance payout in the months prior.
In the aftermath of the crash, the MOD blamed the pilots for gross negligence despite failing to provide any evidence to support the claim and a post-incident report discounting the role of human error.
It would take 17 years of battling against deliberate MOD obstruction for the pilots to be exonerated of blame.
But the cause of the crash was never revealed, leaving 29 families without answers as to why their loved ones died so needlessly on a Scottish hillside.
The MOD’s attempt to bury their failings in the lead up to the accident has seen the case files sealed for 100 years, meaning only the grandchildren of those killed stand a realistic chance of ever finding out the truth.
It takes a certain kind of person to put the reputation of an organisation ahead of the feelings of grieving families.
These families include wives who gave up careers to follow their husbands around Europe on various postings. They include children who gave up friends every two years when moving schools in service of the nation. They include babies, robbed of even the faintest memory of the person whose life once revolved around them.
To avoid acknowledging failure is to accept a repeat. To subject the families of those killed in service to decades of accusations and mystery is a cruelty beyond measure.
The MOD talks the talk about valuing the sacrifice of the Armed Forces and their families but if they ever hope to walk the walk, working with rather than against the families of the Chinook tragedy is a good place to start.
The fact they did not respond to a request for comment ahead of this piece shows that the families have a long way to go before they achieve justice.
