ARMED FARCES

22-12-2006

When my son joined the Army some years ago, I was proud as any parent could be, together with his mother, of course. Attending his passing out parade was the icing on the cake for us. It wasn't that either of us saw him as being some sort of 'hero', it was just a case of recognising that our lad had achieved his ambition, having spent the previous 5 years attending marine cadets. I'm sure the other parents present were equally as proud of their sons, and rightly so.

The British Army has always been regarded as the most professional service on the planet, aboast that has traditionally been its selling point when attempting to recruit raw kids. Certainly, my son would vouch for this, having been on the sharp end of many rigorous training exercises.

Hisreal interest, however,was to become a Commando - a dream he was destined never to realise.Unfortunately, he sustained a nagging injury during commando trials which put paid to his ambitions. Accordingly,he joined the Royal Artillery and appears to be progressing well, having been promoted quite quickly.

Nearly a year ago,my lad was despatched to Iraq for a 6-monthstour of duty.Any parent with a soldier son will understand the strain felt by immediate family - even more so when you find yourself questioning the legalitiesand ethics of such a controversial invasion. We were no different. However, when you sign on the dotted line and commit yourself to a military career, you do as you are told; no questions asked - and my son knows that. In truth, it has to be that way.

Upon his (thankfully) safe return, the subject of equipment was raised - not by myself, but by my son. I remember him commenting that, compared to the American forces, our lads were verypoorly kitted out. As a non-military person myself, such 'kit' is something alien to me - I just put it down to the affluent Yanks going that 'extra mile' as they tend to do with everything in life.

Certainly, when my son described some ofthe Army's equipment as 'rubbish', I thought he was exaggerating the point for dramatic effect; after all, is the British Army not the most 'professional' in the world, as I mentioned earlier? So, I paid not too much notice to his outburst, but maybe I should have...

I refer, of course, to Tank Commander Steve Roberts' untimely death.

Perhaps 'unfortunate' - the word I intially thought of using - is inappropriate when one views the circumstances of his passing. It was untimely, yes, but certainly not 'unfortunate'. Had I used such a word, I wouldhave unwittingly impliedthat fate somehow took a hand in the events leading to his demise; thata mere 'throwing of a dice' decidedthis man's future - or lack of it.

In Steve Robert's case, his death - according to the Coroner- is directly attributable to the lack of body armour provided by the MOD. Little wonder, then, that the Coroner described this tragedy as, 'unforgiveable and inexcusable'. I agree entirely.

Early in the new year,my sonis being sent to Kenya for acclimatisation exercises in preparation for his inevitable posting to Afghanistan. Once again, he - like all his fellow soldiers- will be expected to perform to a high degree of efficiency and professionalism. Once again, too,his family will be sweating over his welfare. One thing we will also be concerned about - and totally unexpectedly - is whether our son will be facing needless exposure to danger in light of Steve Roberts' death.

How much trust should we place in the MOD? How much trust will my son have in his equipment? Will the morale of our boys be affected to any significant degree? Ican't claim tohave the answers - but I certainly feel thatthe Britishgovernment don't have our forces' welfare at the top of their Christmas shopping list.

What I would say to them is this: If our servicemen and women are brave enough and committed enough to do YOUR dirty work, then the least you can do is give them the very best equipment money can buy. Penny-pinching costs lives as Samantha Roberts knows only too well. After all, she faces this Christmas without her husband and every Christmas thereafter.

My heart goes out to the Roberts family. I can'twish them a very merry Christmas - in fact, I doubt they'll even notice it's here. Instead, let's hope that our government ministers and those working atthe MOD will find time to spare a thought for Commander Steve Roberts as they heartily tuck into their Christmas pudding. I won't hold my breath though: after all, he's just another statistic. I pray my own son won't be the next.