It was one of the most soul-crushing days of my life – certainly of my army career – when I got binned from UK Special Forces Selection for not achieving the required standard. It was half way through the infamous Officers Week: a series of additional gruelling tests (and plenty of sleep deprivation) allotted to officers in the regular army rash enough to think they have what it takes to be SF. My name was read out and I had to pack my bags. Up to that point things had been going wonderfully: I’d never felt fitter, keener or more energised. Everyone else on the course appeared the same, as did those SF personnel overseeing it.
On Selection I was conscious of being entirely surrounded by the highest-calibre individuals – the best of the best – and existing on a higher plane. It was intoxicating. I suspect one of the main reasons I didn’t make it is because I didn’t display that essential edge needed for the Special Forces: to be able, when it really mattered, and without prevarication, to kill and ruthlessly terminate the enemy threat.
You need to be able to do that in SF – it’s basically the whole point. The SAS and the Special Boat Service (SBS) are exceptionally good at doing that: taking out very bad people who need to be taken out and who would otherwise do a lot of harm to British interests. But that’s not what happened, according to the latest BBC allegations. UKSF soldiers allegedly committed war crimes for over a decade in Iraq and Afghanistan, with claims that they murdered children and killed unarmed civilians in their sleep damningly coming from about 30 veterans who served in or alongside SF units at the time of the crimes.
After watching the Panorama episode last week detailing the litany of alleged crimes straight from the worst days of the Vietnam War, I was immediately struck by the bizarre lack of subsequent coverage in other media, on social media, or anywhere. This is huge, why is no one covering it? As a friend who served with me in Iraq put it, it’s like the British nation can’t bear to believe this about itself, and so refuses to. We just can’t face it – especially just after the VE Day celebrations – the possibility that the best of our best could commit the sorts of evil that we have always liked to think only others could.
Panorama names three generals connected to UKSF activities in Iraq and Afghanistan. One of them is Gen Sir Gwyn Jenkins of the Royal Marines, who has just taken over as head of the Navy and as such is a possible future Chief of the Defence Staff. Jenkins served with the SBS, rising to command it. He later commanded all UKSF in Afghanistan and after that was Director of Special Forces. He is being criticised for his oversight of UKSF in Afghanistan at the time of the alleged war crimes and also for his role in the rejection of asylum claims from hundreds of Afghans who worked with the British forces. Panorama suggested that the applications were vetoed by UKSF because the Afghans’ testimony before British authorities might prove embarrassing for the UKSF.
It’s been noted by some that various leaks and allegations are apparently being used in a concerted push against Jenkins by those who didn’t want him to head the Navy and don’t want him to be a possible candidate to head the armed forces. There is also another side to his story in that it was he, as commander of the SBS, who reportedly first put the allegations in writing to the then Director of Special Forces – the allegations having managed to get higher up the SBS command chain than in the SAS at that time – thereby ensuring that the issue wouldn’t go away. So, in some respects, it could be said that General Jenkins was almost a whistleblower himself.
But I’m not interested in which general snipes at which general over who gets which top job. What I care about is the fact that no general has ever been held to account for what happened in Iraq and Afghanistan, and not only the alleged war crimes but also the many other military disasters that we suffered there. The generals who oversaw those disasters have always gone on afterwards to promotions, big pensions and more. Ordinary soldiers and lower-ranking officers had to suffer the consequences and often left the military (as I did). That immunity for the top brass who made the big decisions has long rankled, especially as yet another ex-squaddie takes his own life in the shadows cast by those military misadventures.
Now there is a belated chance to achieve some form of accountability for all that, following the appalling Panorama allegations. It appears the SAS and SBS could have succumbed to what every elite institution is in danger of doing. They thought they were untouchable and let it go to their heads – and it resulted in what appears a total breakdown in the chain of command, military professionalism and ethical practice, allowing evil to penetrate into the British Army’s modus operandi.
Leaving aside the shocking particulars of the allegations – a young boy with handcuffed hands executed, an injured Afghan having his throat slit so an SF soldier can “blood” his knife like an Apache Indian, kill counts kept by SAS squadrons – there were larger factors that likely slammed the brains, just as they slammed mine, of those who served in the humble regular army in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Firstly, that as a result of SF night raids and atrocities, Afghan locals turned against the British presence. How many of the IEDs (bombs) which tore limbs off soldiers in my unit were there because locals, enraged by SF practices, aided the Taliban? The IED campaign did terrible damage to the regular army as it sweated on the ground during the daytime after the nights of elite raids. The SF were meant to be neutralizing the threat. Now it appears they may have made it worse for the rest of the military fighting in Afghanistan. There is also the allegation that “everyone knew” what was going on within the Special Forces’ command structure, from the bottom to the top.
One friend of mine, who I know has struggled following his tour in Iraq, commented that not only do the claims leave you doubting many of the people you came across and served with: they also utterly undermine your already shaken faith in what you gave so many years of your life to, and which forms a fundamental part of your identity and who you are. You are also left thinking back. We regular soldiers certainly got it wrong at times and ended up accidentally killing or injuring innocent bystanders during hellish firefights. But we didn’t shoot unarmed prisoners like some sort of death squad.
I remember hearing about one young officer I knew – a really impressive guy – who on a different Officers Week got grilled over his Christian faith and whether it might impede his ability to effectively do the job of an SF officer. He got binned too.
In case it needs reiterating, the SAS is part of the British Army. What is alleged to have happened on those night raids implicates the British Army. It is a moral failure – on a colossal scale – for that essential institution upon which the safety and security of this country relies.
That’s why this time, something different needs to be done, rather than the British habit of closing ranks, keeping calm and carrying on. This isn’t about the “heads-must-roll” mentality of revenge, or scapegoating a general.
I should add for clarity that this is completely different from the recent decision by a British coroner that IRA terrorists were unlawfully killed by the SAS at Clonoe during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. Charges of murder or manslaughter may result. But I would say there is a huge difference between a group of obvious IRA men armed with grenades and automatic weapons who have just attacked a police station with a heavy machine gun, and unarmed Afghans in restraints who may well have nothing to do with the Taliban.
UKSF have had to deal with heavily armed terrorists/enemy combatants who want to kill them. They have bravely and selflessly fought in defence of this country in extremely dangerous, confusing and complicated situations. But as of now their reputation appears totally compromised. All that national pride over the SAS abseiling down the walls of the Iranian Embassy in London in 1980, the romantic view of the TV series SAS: Rogue Heroes – forget it. That’s irrelevant now. There were some very good guys in the SAS back then, just as there still are. But the veterans’ testimonies claim that individuals described as “psychotic murderers” who became “addicted” to summary executions infiltrated the ranks of the SF.
I don’t remember that from Selection. Something has gone very wrong. To even start to resolve that, we need to hear from the generals involved. Finally.
James Jeffrey is a former British Army officer who served in Iraq and Afghanistan. He is a writer, assistant online editor for the Catholic Herald and a Camino guide
It was one of the most soul-crushing days of my life – certainly of my army career – when I got binned from UK Special Forces Selection for not achieving the required standard. It was half way through the infamous Officers Week: a series of additional gruelling tests (and plenty of sleep deprivation) allotted to officers in the regular army rash enough to think they have what it takes to be SF. My name was read out and I had to pack my bags. Up to that point things had been going wonderfully: I’d never felt fitter, keener or more energised. Everyone else on the course appeared the same, as did those SF personnel overseeing it.
On Selection I was conscious of being entirely surrounded by the highest-calibre individuals – the best of the best – and existing on a higher plane. It was intoxicating. I suspect one of the main reasons I didn’t make it is because I didn’t display that essential edge needed for the Special Forces: to be able, when it really mattered, and without prevarication, to kill and ruthlessly terminate the enemy threat.
You need to be able to do that in SF – it’s basically the whole point. The SAS and the Special Boat Service (SBS) are exceptionally good at doing that: taking out very bad people who need to be taken out and who would otherwise do a lot of harm to British interests. But that’s not what happened, according to the latest BBC allegations. UKSF soldiers allegedly committed war crimes for over a decade in Iraq and Afghanistan, with claims that they murdered children and killed unarmed civilians in their sleep damningly coming from about 30 veterans who served in or alongside SF units at the time of the crimes.
After watching the Panorama episode last week detailing the litany of alleged crimes straight from the worst days of the Vietnam War, I was immediately struck by the bizarre lack of subsequent coverage in other media, on social media, or anywhere. This is huge, why is no one covering it? As a friend who served with me in Iraq put it, it’s like the British nation can’t bear to believe this about itself, and so refuses to. We just can’t face it – especially just after the VE Day celebrations – the possibility that the best of our best could commit the sorts of evil that we have always liked to think only others could.
Panorama names three generals connected to UKSF activities in Iraq and Afghanistan. One of them is Gen Sir Gwyn Jenkins of the Royal Marines, who has just taken over as head of the Navy and as such is a possible future Chief of the Defence Staff. Jenkins served with the SBS, rising to command it. He later commanded all UKSF in Afghanistan and after that was Director of Special Forces. He is being criticised for his oversight of UKSF in Afghanistan at the time of the alleged war crimes and also for his role in the rejection of asylum claims from hundreds of Afghans who worked with the British forces. Panorama suggested that the applications were vetoed by UKSF because the Afghans’ testimony before British authorities might prove embarrassing for the UKSF.
It’s been noted by some that various leaks and allegations are apparently being used in a concerted push against Jenkins by those who didn’t want him to head the Navy and don’t want him to be a possible candidate to head the armed forces. There is also another side to his story in that it was he, as commander of the SBS, who reportedly first put the allegations in writing to the then Director of Special Forces – the allegations having managed to get higher up the SBS command chain than in the SAS at that time – thereby ensuring that the issue wouldn’t go away. So, in some respects, it could be said that General Jenkins was almost a whistleblower himself.
But I’m not interested in which general snipes at which general over who gets which top job. What I care about is the fact that no general has ever been held to account for what happened in Iraq and Afghanistan, and not only the alleged war crimes but also the many other military disasters that we suffered there. The generals who oversaw those disasters have always gone on afterwards to promotions, big pensions and more. Ordinary soldiers and lower-ranking officers had to suffer the consequences and often left the military (as I did). That immunity for the top brass who made the big decisions has long rankled, especially as yet another ex-squaddie takes his own life in the shadows cast by those military misadventures.
Now there is a belated chance to achieve some form of accountability for all that, following the appalling Panorama allegations. It appears the SAS and SBS could have succumbed to what every elite institution is in danger of doing. They thought they were untouchable and let it go to their heads – and it resulted in what appears a total breakdown in the chain of command, military professionalism and ethical practice, allowing evil to penetrate into the British Army’s modus operandi.
Leaving aside the shocking particulars of the allegations – a young boy with handcuffed hands executed, an injured Afghan having his throat slit so an SF soldier can “blood” his knife like an Apache Indian, kill counts kept by SAS squadrons – there were larger factors that likely slammed the brains, just as they slammed mine, of those who served in the humble regular army in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Firstly, that as a result of SF night raids and atrocities, Afghan locals turned against the British presence. How many of the IEDs (bombs) which tore limbs off soldiers in my unit were there because locals, enraged by SF practices, aided the Taliban? The IED campaign did terrible damage to the regular army as it sweated on the ground during the daytime after the nights of elite raids. The SF were meant to be neutralizing the threat. Now it appears they may have made it worse for the rest of the military fighting in Afghanistan. There is also the allegation that “everyone knew” what was going on within the Special Forces’ command structure, from the bottom to the top.
One friend of mine, who I know has struggled following his tour in Iraq, commented that not only do the claims leave you doubting many of the people you came across and served with: they also utterly undermine your already shaken faith in what you gave so many years of your life to, and which forms a fundamental part of your identity and who you are. You are also left thinking back. We regular soldiers certainly got it wrong at times and ended up accidentally killing or injuring innocent bystanders during hellish firefights. But we didn’t shoot unarmed prisoners like some sort of death squad.
I remember hearing about one young officer I knew – a really impressive guy – who on a different Officers Week got grilled over his Christian faith and whether it might impede his ability to effectively do the job of an SF officer. He got binned too.
In case it needs reiterating, the SAS is part of the British Army. What is alleged to have happened on those night raids implicates the British Army. It is a moral failure – on a colossal scale – for that essential institution upon which the safety and security of this country relies.
That’s why this time, something different needs to be done, rather than the British habit of closing ranks, keeping calm and carrying on. This isn’t about the “heads-must-roll” mentality of revenge, or scapegoating a general.
I should add for clarity that this is completely different from the recent decision by a British coroner that IRA terrorists were unlawfully killed by the SAS at Clonoe during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. Charges of murder or manslaughter may result. But I would say there is a huge difference between a group of obvious IRA men armed with grenades and automatic weapons who have just attacked a police station with a heavy machine gun, and unarmed Afghans in restraints who may well have nothing to do with the Taliban.
UKSF have had to deal with heavily armed terrorists/enemy combatants who want to kill them. They have bravely and selflessly fought in defence of this country in extremely dangerous, confusing and complicated situations. But as of now their reputation appears totally compromised. All that national pride over the SAS abseiling down the walls of the Iranian Embassy in London in 1980, the romantic view of the TV series SAS: Rogue Heroes – forget it. That’s irrelevant now. There were some very good guys in the SAS back then, just as there still are. But the veterans’ testimonies claim that individuals described as “psychotic murderers” who became “addicted” to summary executions infiltrated the ranks of the SF.
I don’t remember that from Selection. Something has gone very wrong. To even start to resolve that, we need to hear from the generals involved. Finally.
James Jeffrey is a former British Army officer who served in Iraq and Afghanistan. He is a writer, assistant online editor for the Catholic Herald and a Camino guide