This persecution of brave veterans is repugnant

When Himself was a child, his family had an unusual morning ritual. Before driving off, they would use a tool to inspect the underside of their car for explosive devices. That was one of the safety measures recommended to the relatives of senior serving officers in Northern Ireland. Then there were the bombproof curtains at the windows and the air rifle his father gave him, in case he needed to protect his mother. The 10-year-old boy thought a lot about how he might try to do that if men in balaclavas came crashing through the front door.

Such precautions seem surreal almost 50 years on, a tiny shard of history embedded in the memories of the elderly who saw active service through those bloody times.

Decades later, Himself and I were invited to the Dublin film festival and put up in the glorious Shelbourne Hotel. Returning for tea one afternoon, we were handed a note that had been left in our pigeonhole. It was a threat. Shadowy persons had noticed Himself ’s surname and sent him an ugly warning. It was chilling. Was hatred really hereditary, I asked myself. If so, for how many generations? I wanted to call the police. Himself refused. Typical Army boy. Never make a fuss.

More than 300,000 British soldiers did exactly that when they were posted to Northern Ireland from 1969 onwards. Dennis Hutchings was among them, a regimental corporal major who served in the Life Guards for 26 years. Now 77, Dennis is one of four British soldiers facing prosecution over killings dating back to 1972. (Another 278 cases involving veterans are believed to be under investigation.) In June, 18 police officers raided the pensioner’s home and held him in custody for 80 hours over an incident that is 44 years old.

Gravely ill, Dennis is refusing treatment for kidney disease for fear his case will be dropped on medical grounds. He wants his day in court. “I will fight them to the death. This is not about me any more. It’s about all the others behind me,” he told one reporter. “As long as I can keep

fighting it, it will hopefully end up with somebody making a commonsense decision and drawing a line under it all. I want to prove my innocence and show the nonsense behind these legacy cases.”

Can you imagine what Dennis and his former comrades felt when Tony Blair pledged, under the Good Friday Agreement, that 500 terrorists would be released early from jail and 300 suspects given “comfort letters” guaranteeing they wouldn’t be prosecuted? And when Martin Mcguinness, a former IRA leader, became deputy first minister of Northern Ireland?

I don’t need to imagine their reaction. I heard Himself on the subject. If so many murderers can be rehabilitated in the cause of peace, a bullet worth biting we might bitterly concede, then why the hell are the police still pursuing men like Dennis Hutchings who were fighting for Queen and country? One law for the terrorists and another for the poor bloody infantry, eh?

MPS and peers across all parties submitted an open letter yesterday calling on Theresa May to end the witch-hunt. The public, I’m convinced, will be united in their repugnance at this persecution of old soldiers who were once young and afraid in a tinderbox across the water.

Me, I think of a boy and his air rifle taking up a position at the top of the stairs to protect his mother.