Sir Iain Duncan Smith

I cannot think of anyone I would rather have chairing this debate, so it is of course a pleasure to serve under your chairmanship, Sir Desmond. I congratulate the hon. Member for Tewkesbury (Cameron Thomas) on raising this matter. In the time that I have been in this place, I think this is the first debate we have had about the battle of Britain. I ask myself why we have not had one before—I am rather guilty in that regard myself. I rise simply to make some comments about the fact that my father was a fighter pilot throughout the second world war. He flew almost constantly in Spitfires and came in during the latter stages of the battle of Britain, so I grew up with stories about what happened. Almost the first story that my father told me was about when he was just finishing off his training—somewhere up near Liverpool, I think—and he and a couple of others were in a pub that night. This was just after Dunkirk, and a bunch of soldiers who had returned from Dunkirk saw these RAF figures sitting by the bar and immediately came and attacked them under the stupid belief—it was not their fault, because the information was not given to them—that the RAF had not turned up at Dunkirk, because they could not see the aircraft overhead. The truth is somewhat different, because the fighter pilots had gone inland to break up the bombers long before they got anywhere near the beaches. If they got near the beaches, it was too late. He said, “We bore”—how can I put it?—“the imprint of a disgruntled set of pongos, who I remembered all the way through the rest of my life.” But he went on to qualify as a fighter pilot. Most fighter pilots were not trained massively. There was a rush to get them done, so they had no real combat training. What they had was basic training on the aircraft to go solo, a few fighter runs and feints, and then they would be sent off to their squadrons, so the first time they would understand how to fly the aircraft properly was in combat. My father talked about what he used to say to his pilots when he later became a squadron leader and eventually a group captain. He said, “I used to tell my pilots that you have to abandon all that you have learned and understand only one thing: you don’t get into this aircraft; you strap it on—it becomes an extension of you. If you learn that, this aircraft will never let you down. It can always go as far as you want, and it will test you, but you will always come out of it.” That stayed with him all the time, and his pilots, I think, had very good records as well. It is worth reminding ourselves that of course it was the pre-war planning that enabled us to have enough time and warning to put the fighters up in the air to take out the bombers. Sir Robert Watson-Watt and others developed the chain of radars. The Germans never understood fully what that was about until too late. And of course there was Dowding’s two-pronged determination. No. 1 was that this home chain should exist, and the system to run it through the tables, with the WAAF—Women’s Auxiliary Air Force—pushing all the details about individual squadrons coming across. The second bit, which was really important, was his argument with Churchill about not sending Spitfires over to France. That was critical because had we done that, we would not have been ready and prepared for what was to come next. That was a very big dispute. I think Churchill never really forgave him for standing up to him on that, but he was right to have done so, because we were ready and prepared with the right squadrons and the right aircraft. The other side of it was that although, as the hon. Member for Tewkesbury said, the Germans were never going to succeed, there was a period when they were pretty close, and that was when they were bombing the airfields endlessly. That meant that many squadrons were coming back to find their airfields destroyed and were having to be diverted to amateur airfields and everywhere else, where there was no support, no supply, no ammunition waiting for them and often no fuel. It would then take them longer to be ready, and by the time they were ready, it was almost too late. Dowding was within, I think, two days of ordering his squadrons north of London, because they were pretty much exhausted, as they were not able just to come back and fly again. At that point, Germany switched the bombing to London. That was a critical moment. It gave him breathing space to reconstruct, rebuild, and be ready for them a second time when they came back to the airfields, and that is exactly what happened. His leadership in all this was critical, for which he was not properly rewarded directly afterwards but was later on. As the commanding officer, Dowding was as important to this as Nelson was to Trafalgar or as Wellington was to Waterloo, and we should honour him and others who worked with him. My father got five gallantry medals during the war—two Distinguished Service Orders and three Distinguished Flying Crosses, which are all combat awards—but like many other pilots who were there, he did not ask questions about this. He became a very good friend of the actor Christopher Lee, who was the godfather to my brother. I remember as a young boy, sitting in a back room with my brother while they had a drink together—that was normal in those days—when he came through and said to me and my brother, “Your father is a man without fear.” This troubled me for some time. When I eventually was in the Army myself, one evening over a drink, I said to my father, “Christopher Lee said you are a man without fear.” He said, “That’s not true. A man without fear is a dangerous man, because he cares not about anybody else. I was scared all through the war, but I controlled it because I could not let those around me down.” My father said that the toughest thing he ever had to do was to eventually deal with a pilot who had clearly lost it—who had broken. He had to send him down because he was a risk to the others around him. He said that these men would break down in tears in front of them because that was the end of their time—that was it; there were no further chances for them. He said, “That was the toughest thing you had to do; but, for the sake of the others, you made that decision, even though you hated doing it at the time.” Although they have become heroic figures, it is worth reminding ourselves that every day they were fighting for their lives and the lives of the people next door to them in the air. That is important. I want to finish by saying that the lesson they taught us, from the 1930s all the way through, is one that we are now faced with again. We are faced by the growth of totalitarianism: brutal states like China, Russia and others, who will stop at nothing and who care nothing for human rights, nothing for the rule of law and nothing for freedom. These countries are growing in potency. Russia is invading a nation that is trying to become a democracy and fight for freedom. What we have to understand is that we are now under as big a threat as they were in the 1930s. We must understand that the preparation in the late ’30s is where we have to be today—I say that nodding to the Minister, who has served himself and will understand that fully. There are three lessons that we draw from this. First, we can never appease dictators. Dictators of brutal totalitarian regimes must be confronted, never appeased. The second is: never trade land for peace. Fight for the souls and the hearts of those who honour freedom. Do not betray them with shabby deals, as we did in 1938, when we sold land of those we had no right to. The third bit, which I will finish on, is very simple: “Si vis pacem, para bellum”—“If you would have peace, prepare for war”—because if we are unready, you can bet that the others will not be. What is it that our fighter pilots taught us, those brave men who went on to fight through the rest of the war like my father and others? They said: “Never again find yourself in a situation where you have to put young men and women under fire because politicians failed to recognise what they had to do early on.”