Simon Darby has posted yesterday’s Sky News interview with Nick Griffin.  The interview was part of the media adoption of the anti-BNP campaign by the Conservative Party’s proxy, Nothing British.  Not that there is anything British about Nothing British:

Nothing British is an anti-racism campaign seeking to promote gentle British values of tolerance, fair-play and respect for one another.

The centrepiece of its campaign has been a set battle between two retired British Army Chiefs of Staff, General Sir Mike Jackson and General Sir Richard Dannatt, and Griffin’s little band of irregulars.  Jackson, we are told, was moved to speak out by “racist insults made by the BNP against Lance Corporal Johnson Beharry, the black Victoria Cross holder”:

“I heard complaints that the BNP were being extremely offensive about Johnson Beharry, I looked into it, and found out that was indeed the case.  I thought it was pretty appalling that a brave man like that should be insulted in this way.

Jackson and Dannatt, along with others, put their names to this almost unbelievable nonsense:

“The values of these extremists - many of whom are essentially racist - are fundamentally at odds with the values of the modern British military, such as tolerance and fairness.”

In the same vein, in Nick Griffin’s Channel 4 interview yesterday, “the Fifth Lord Bethell ... a Tory toff” leading the Nothing British campaign delivered himself of the novel opinion that:

Nick Griffin claims to be sharing values with British military armed services. That’s just not true. The armed services stand for courage, fairness and decency …

Once there was a time when the British military cleaved to the function of executing successful operations as ordered, and nothing else.  Now, if we are to take these Tory proxies at their word, it is a willing social engineer in the greater battle for anti-racism.  Are they right?

Well, let’s look at how this truly manic perversion might have translated to the battlefield, in the form of the award of that VC to Johnson Beharry.  Were his actions in the early hours of Mayday in 2004 consonant with the very highest standards of military virtue for which the VC was inaugurated in 1856? Or has the Establishment merely built up Beharry as yet another peerless negro?  Well, you be the judge.  Here’s the rather over-long citation:

Private Beharry carried out two individual acts of great heroism by which he saved the lives of his comrades. Both were in direct face of the enemy, under intense fire, at great personal risk to himself (one leading to him sustaining very serious injuries). His valour is worthy of the highest recognition.

In the early hours of 1 May 2004 Beharry’s company was ordered to replenish an isolated coalition forces outpost located in the centre of the troubled city of Al Amarah. He was the driver of a platoon commander’s Warrior armoured fighting vehicle. His platoon was the company’s reserve force and was placed on immediate notice to move.

As the main elements of his company were moving into the city to carry out the replenishment, they were re-tasked to fight through a series of enemy ambushes in order to extract a foot patrol that had become pinned down under sustained small arms and heavy machine gun fire and improvised explosive device and rocket-propelled grenade attack. Beharry’s platoon was tasked over the radio to come to the assistance of the remainder of the company, who were attempting to extract the isolated foot patrol.

As his platoon passed a roundabout, en route to the pinned-down patrol, they became aware that the road to the front was empty of all civilians and traffic - an indicator of a potential ambush ahead. The platoon commander ordered the vehicle to halt, so that he could assess the situation. The vehicle was then immediately hit by multiple rocket-propelled grenades.

Eyewitnesses report that the vehicle was engulfed in a number of violent explosions, which physically rocked the 30-tonne Warrior. As a result of this ferocious initial volley of fire, both the platoon commander and the vehicle’s gunner were incapacitated by concussion and other wounds, and a number of the soldiers in the rear of the vehicle were also wounded.

Due to damage sustained in the blast to the vehicle’s radio systems, Beharry had no means of communication with either his turret crew or any of the other Warrior vehicles deployed around him. He did not know if his commander or crewmen were still alive, or how serious their injuries may be.

In this confusing and dangerous situation, on his own initiative, he closed his driver’s hatch and moved forward through the ambush position to try to establish some form of communications, halting just short of a barricade placed across the road. The vehicle was hit again by sustained rocket-propelled grenade attack from insurgent fighters in the alleyways and on rooftops around his vehicle.

Further damage to the Warrior from these explosions caused it to catch fire and fill rapidly with thick, noxious smoke. Beharry opened up his armoured hatch cover to clear his view and orientate himself to the situation. He still had no radio communications and was now acting on his own initiative, as the lead vehicle of a six-Warrior convoy in an enemy-controlled area of the city at night.

He assessed that his best course of action to save the lives of his crew was to push through, out of the ambush. He drove his Warrior directly through the barricade, not knowing if there were mines or improvised explosive devices placed there to destroy his vehicle. By doing this he was able to lead the remaining five warriors behind him towards safety.

As the smoke in his driver’s tunnel cleared, he was just able to make out the shape of another rocket-propelled grenade in flight heading directly towards him. He pulled the heavy armoured hatch down with one hand, whilst still controlling his vehicle with the other. However, the overpressure from the explosion of the rocket wrenched the hatch out of his grip, and the flames and force of the blast passed directly over him, down the driver’s tunnel, further wounding the semi-conscious gunner in the turret.

The impact of this rocket destroyed Beharry’s armoured periscope, so he was forced to drive the vehicle through the remainder of the ambushed route, some 1500m long, with his hatch opened up and his head exposed to enemy fire, all the time with no communications with any other vehicle. During this long surge through the ambushes the vehicle was again struck by rocket-propelled grenades and small arms fire.

While his head remained out of the hatch, to enable him to see the route ahead, he was directly exposed to much of this fire, and was himself hit by a 7.62mm bullet, which penetrated his helmet and remained lodged on its inner surface. Despite this harrowing weight of incoming fire Beharry continued to push through the extended ambush, still leading his platoon until he broke clean.

He then visually identified another Warrior from his company and followed it through the streets of Al Amarah to the outside of the Cimic House outpost, which was receiving small arms fire from the surrounding area. Once he had brought his vehicle to a halt outside, without thought for his own personal safety, he climbed onto the turret of the still-burning vehicle and, seemingly oblivious to the incoming enemy small arms fire, manhandled his wounded platoon commander out of the turret, off the vehicle and to the safety of a nearby Warrior.

He then returned once again to his vehicle and again mounted the exposed turret to lift out the vehicle’s gunner and move him to a position of safety. Exposing himself yet again to enemy fire he returned to the rear of the burning vehicle to lead the disorientated and shocked dismounts and casualties to safety.

Remounting his burning vehicle for the third time, he drove it through a complex chicane and into the security of the defended perimeter of the outpost, thus denying it to the enemy.

Only at this stage did Beharry pull the fire extinguisher handles, immobilising the engine of the vehicle, dismounted and then moved himself into the relative safety of the back of another Warrior. Once inside Beharry collapsed from the sheer physical and mental exhaustion of his efforts and was subsequently himself evacuated.

Having returned to duty following medical treatment, on 11 June 2004 Beharry’s Warrior was part of a quick reaction force tasked to attempt to cut off a mortar team that had attacked a coalition force base in Al Amarah. As the lead vehicle of the platoon he was moving rapidly through the dark city streets towards the suspected firing point, when his vehicle was ambushed by the enemy from a series of rooftop positions.

During this initial heavy weight of enemy fire, a rocket-propelled grenade detonated on the vehicle’s frontal armour, just six inches [15cm] from Beharry’s head, resulting in a serious head injury. Other rockets struck the turret and sides of the vehicle, incapacitating his commander and injuring several of the crew.

With the blood from his head injury obscuring his vision, Beharry managed to continue to control his vehicle, and forcefully reversed the Warrior out of the ambush area. The vehicle continued to move until it struck the wall of a nearby building and came to rest. Beharry then lost consciousness as a result of his wounds.

By moving the vehicle out of the enemy’s chosen killing area he enabled other Warrior crews to be able to extract his crew from his vehicle, with a greatly reduced risk from incoming fire.

Despite receiving a serious head injury, which later saw him being listed as very seriously injured and in a coma for some time, his level-headed actions in the face of heavy and accurate enemy fire at short range again almost certainly saved the lives of his crew and provided the conditions for their safe evacuation to medical treatment.

Beharry displayed repeated extreme gallantry and unquestioned valour, despite intense direct attacks, personal injury and damage to his vehicle in the face of relentless enemy action.

With the possible exception of Beharry’s action to drag his crewmates from the Warrior, this is pretty normal stuff, it seems to me.  What choices did he have - to get out of his Warrior and run away? 

How does it compare with another VC that was awarded for getting crewmates home?  It’s one I mentioned here recently: Flight Sergeant Jimmy Ward of 75 Squadron Royal New Zealand Air Force:

On the night of July 7, 1941, Sergeant Ward was second pilot of a Wellington bomber of 75 (NZ) Squadron returning from an attack on Munster.

While flying over the Zuider Zee at 13,000 feet his aircraft was attacked from beneath by a German ME110, which secured hits with cannon-shell and incendiary bullets. The rear gunner was wounded in the foot but delivered a burst of fire sending the enemy fighter down, apparently out of control.

Fire then broke out in the Wellington’s starboard engine and, fed by petrol from a split pipe, quickly gained an alarming hold and threatened to spread to the entire wing. The crew forced a hole in the fuselage and made strenuous efforts to reduce the fire with extinguishers, and even coffee from their flasks, without success.

They were then warned to be ready to abandon the aircraft. As a last resort Sergeant Ward volunteered to make an attempt to smother the fire with an engine cover which happened to be in use as a cushion.

At first he proposed discarding his parachute to reduce wind resistance, but was finally persuaded to take it. A rope from the aircraft dingy was tied to him, though this was of little help and might have become a danger had he been blown off the aircraft.

With the help of his navigator he then climbed through the narrow astro-hatch and put on his parachute. The bomber was flying at a reduced speed but the wind pressure must have been sufficient to render the operation one of extreme difficulty.

Breaking the fabric to make hand and foot holds where necessary, Sergeant Ward succeeded in descending three feet to the wing and proceeding another three feet to a position behind the engine, despite the slipstream from the airscrew which nearly blew him off the wing.

Lying in this precarious position he smothered the fire in the wing and on the leaking pipe from which the fire came. As soon as he had removed his hand, however, a terrific wind blew the cover off and when he tried again it was lost.

Tired as he was, he was able, with the navigator’s assistance, to make a successful but perilous journey back into the aircraft. There was now no danger of fire spreading from the petrol pipe as there was no fabric left near it and in due course it burned itself out.

When the aircraft was nearly home, some petrol which has collected in the wing blazed up furiously but died down quite suddenly. A safe landing was made despite the damage sustained to the aircraft.

The flight home had been made possible by the gallantry of Sergeant Ward in extinguishing the fire on the wing in circumstances of the greatest difficulty and at the risk of his life

Now read the citation for the controversial award to Colonel H Jones, for his undoubtedly courageous and inspiring but unnecessarily self-sacrificial one-man assault on an Argentine position at Goose Green, 28th May 1982:

On 28th May 1982 Lieutenant Colonel Jones was commanding 2nd Battalion The Parachute Regiment on operations on the Falkland Islands. The Battalion was ordered to attack enemy positions in and around the settlements of Darwin and Goose Green.

During the attack against an enemy who was well dug in with mutually supporting positions sited in depth, the Battalion was held up just South of Darwin by a particularly well-prepared and resilient enemy position of at least eleven trenches on an important ridge. A number of casualties were received. In order to read the battle fully and to ensure that the momentum of his attack was not lost, Colonel Jones took forward his reconnaissance party to the foot of a re-entrant which a section of his Battalion had just secured. Despite persistent, heavy and accurate fire the reconnaissance party gained the top of the re-entrant, at approximately the same height as the enemy positions. From here Colonel Jones encouraged the direction of his Battalion mortar fire, in an effort to neutralise the enemy positions. However, these had been well prepared and continued to pour effective fire onto the Battalion advance, which, by now held up for over an hour and under increasingly heavy artillery fire, was in danger of faltering.

In his effort to gain a good viewpoint, Colonel Jones was now at the very front of his Battalion. It was clear to him that desperate measures were needed in order to overcome the enemy position and rekindle the attack, and that unless these measures were taken promptly the Battalion would sustain increasing casualties and the attack perhaps even fail. It was time for personal leadership and action. Colonel Jones immediately seized a sub-machine gun, and, calling on those around him and with total disregard for his own safety, charged the nearest enemy position. This action exposed him to fire from a number of trenches. As he charged up a short slope at the enemy position he was seen to fall and roll backward downhill. He immediately picked himself up, and again charged the enemy trench, firing his sub-machine gun and seemingly oblivious to the intense fire directed at him. He was hit by fire from another trench which he outflanked, and fell dying only a few feet from the enemy he had assaulted. A short time later a company of the Battalion attacked the enemy, who quickly surrendered. The display of courage by Colonel Jones had completely undermined their will to fight further.

Thereafter the momentum of the attack was rapidly regained, Darwin and Goose Green were liberated, and the Battalion released the local inhabitants unharmed and forced the surrender of some 1,200 of the enemy.

The achievements of 2nd Battalion The Parachute Regiment at Darwin and Goose Green set the tone for the subsequent land victory on the Falklands. The British achieved such a moral superiority over the enemy in this first battle that, despite the advantages of numbers and selection of battle-ground, the Argentinian troops never thereafter doubted neither the superior fighting qualities of the British troops, nor their own inevitable defeat.

This was an action of the utmost gallantry by a Commanding Officer whose dashing leadership and courage throughout the battle were an inspiration to all about him.

Now finally, as regards VC citations, here’s the one for the award to a true fighting man, Acting Lance-Corporal Albert Jacka of the Australian Imperial Force:

For most conspicuous bravery on the night of the 19-20 May, 1915, at Courtney’s Post, Gallipoli Peninsular. Lance Corporal Jacka, while holding a portion of our trench with four men, was heavily attacked. When all except himself were killed or wounded, the trench was rushed and occupied by seven Turks. Lance Corporal Jacka at once most gallantly attacked them single-handed and killed the whole party, five by rifle fire and two with the bayonet.

The full story is here, complete with his own summation of events when he was discovered by his commanding officer amid the carnage of his own creation, “Well, I got the beggars, sir.”

These three awards (which I happened to know a little about - I didn’t cherry-pick them for my argument here) all exhibit the defining element of really exceptional courage in the heat of battle: selfless opportunism.  This, to my mind, is the yardstick by which all recommendations for the award of a Victoria Cross should be measured.  Where it is lacking one must look for some other explanation as to why the award was deemed appropriate.

I am going to conclude with a passage from a memoir which describes another, less exalted award that went to a pilot in 75 Squadron RNZAF.  It was a Conspicuous Gallantry Medal awarded to F/Sgt Dave Moriarty.

It was the day of the Allied break-out, 18th July 1944.  Bomber Command and the USAAF dispatched nearly a thousand bombers apiece to the Normandy battle area, the largest concentrated deployment of the entire war.  Among 75‘s contingent was F/Sgt Dave Moriarty and his crew in K-King, scheduled for the dawn attack on Cagny.  It was one of many villages fortified by Rommel’s men and lay five miles or so from Caen.  K-King bombed in intense AA fire.  Soon after, a flak splinter burst through the windscreen, penetrating Moriarty‘s head beside the left eye and exiting behind his left ear.  Probably sensing that to bale out was to consign Moriarty to his death, the whole crew elected to stay on board.  By what power of the will I do not know, but Moriarty kept flying.  For ninety minutes he endured the pain and trauma of his injury and heavy loss of blood until he, K-King and his crew touched down at Mepal.

In recognition of his valour he was awarded the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal, one of only three to receive this high honour.  By incredible good fortune he escaped brain damage.  But saving his eye proved to be beyond even S/Ldr McCurry‘s skill.

I should add that the writer of this passage is my father, and S/Ldr McCurry was a pioneering eye specialist who saved my father’s sight.  He and Moriarty were patients at McCurry’s clinic in Littleport, Cambridgeshire at the same time, and got to know one another well.

The British Army’s equivalent to the RAF’s CGM is the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross.  I suggest that Johnson Beharry’s actions might - might - have merited that award.  The rest is down to the Army Chief’s fascination with anti-racism.