FIGHT TO FREE MARINE SHOWED US THE BEST AND WORST OF BRITISH

IT IS a permanent hallmark of mediocrity to claim that something blazingly obvious is so complicated that it requires the towering intellect of the jobsworth to resolve. There are several professions rife with those making such impudent claims. Those of politics, bureaucracy and the law jump to mind.

On Tuesday five law lords in the Strand finally, after repeated delays, gave the order for the release from jail of Sergeant Al Blackman, a Royal Marine who served us all bravely, loyally and well for 15 years before making a single error of judgment in the hell of Nad e Ali, Afghanistan, in September 2011. He shot a dying Taliban terrorist before he was quite dead.

For three years it has been plain as a pikestaff that the court martial that sentenced him to life was an utter shambles, a travesty in which every tenet of British justice was stood on its head to urge the seven officers of the jury, all untutored in the law, to deliver the desired verdict, guilty of murder.

It was presided over by Judge Advocate General HH Jeff Blackett who had appointed himself trial judge. Quashing this verdict two weeks ago the law lords added the completely gratuitous rider: “We could see no basis for any criticism of the conduct of the court martial by the Judge Advocate General.”

So that’s all right then. The fat cats look after their own. But I think we knew that. As some snob remarked to me during the two-year campaign: “He’s only a sergeant.” That was what really got my wind up. Everything about the Blackman case showed what is wrong with this country, but also what is good about the non-fat cat people of this kingdom. It was they who, suspecting by gut instinct there was something badly wrong here, rallied round through crowdfunding and secured Sgt Blackman a real defence.