Hansard

This is my final speech to Parliament. Before I turn to the substance of my speech, I take the opportunity to say a few words of thanks.

First, I thank my wife, Sheila, my son, Glen, and my daughter, Lucy, for all their support, which has allowed me to be here in the first place. I also thank my hard-working staff members, who have had to put up with me since 1999, and the very able and friendly parliamentary staff, at all levels, who have been a pleasure to work with.

I am sure that the Presiding Officer will allow me to say that I started my journey to Parliament early on, at the age of 16. I came from a strong political family but, at the time, I was the only one who believed in independence for Scotland. It is amazing how things change; I never thought that I would be a trendsetter for my family, but I have since convinced them all about Scottish independence.

Of course, devolution is not independence, but this Parliament has done sterling work—on inequalities facing women, domestic abuse, the definition of rape in rape trials, how the courts deal with sexual assault victims, and much more. To prove the point, tonight the Parliament passed a terrific bill on domestic abuse.

I set up the first cross-party group on men’s violence against women and children in 1999, which was almost exclusively made up of women. With hindsight, I should have set up the same group, but for men, because all the issues are really men’s issues. However, I am gratified that our cross-party group has gone from strength to strength.

We have had very fine debates in the Parliament. One of the best that I recall was the debate on the Iraq war. Speeches across the political divide were outstanding. Coincidentally, just a week ago, another fine debate—on hate crime—took place. Again, no matter what side members were on, the standard was superlative.

The Parliament has also delivered good outcomes. I represent Clydebank, where the asbestos used in the shipyards and many other workplaces has caused devastation to people and their families—devastation that continues to rage. This Parliament courageously took on the House of Lords and won, securing compensation for those suffering from pleural plaques, which is an asbestos-related disease. I was involved in that campaign, and the result was gratifying.

It is fitting that my final speech is about Clydebank and the 80th anniversary of the Clydebank blitz. Although Clydebank was one of the first towns to be deliberately targeted for aerial bombing, it was not the first, nor, sadly, will it be the last.

As a result of German General Ludendorff’s 1935 book “The Total War”, which argued that no one should be spared during modern warfare, General Franco ordered an aerial bombing attack on Guernica, the defenceless ancient capital of the Basques, on 1 April 1937, during the Spanish civil war. Pablo Picasso’s painting, also called “Guernica”, records the event and is regarded by many in the art field and beyond as the world’s most moving and powerful anti-war painting.

Prior to the Clydebank blitz, the general opinion was that the German Luftwaffe bombers would target only the shipyards and other industrial facilities. No one imagined that they would indiscriminately bomb the civilian population of the town, randomly killing women, men and children, but that is exactly what the Luftwaffe did to Clydebank on 13 and 14 March 1941. The targeting was carried out by the Germans’ elite Luftwaffe pathfinder group, which makes it difficult for me to believe that the bombing of the town was not deliberate.

One cannot imagine the horror of those two nights in March 1941, when more than 1,000 bombs and mines were dropped, along with thousands of incendiaries. It was reported that night turned into day due to the sheer number of firebombs falling across the town.

I ask members to imagine for a moment the terror that they would feel, knowing that they and their family lived below the flight path in accommodation that offered practically no protection, and that, should a bomb hit their home, they would be extremely unlikely to survive. Many of those who did survive recall the fear as they listened to the bombs falling all around them, and many were traumatised for the rest of their lives by that experience.

The Clydebank blitz was most devastating attack on civilians in Scottish history, and the raw statistics do not do justice to the despair and loss felt by the Clydebank community. Among the 526 recorded deaths were many families that had been completely obliterated—whole tenement closes of families vanished. Many of the 617 who were seriously injured died prematurely because of their injuries or were left disabled and unable to work. Among the thousands of walking wounded, many saw their health adversely affected and their life potential reduced.

As a result of the bombing and the fires, 99 per cent of houses were destroyed or badly damaged, with only seven remaining intact, and 35,000 people were made homeless. It is estimated that more than 4,000 residents left the town, never to return.

Stories of the bravery of the people of Clydebank during the blitz as they tried to put out fires and rescue their neighbours are legend. The population’s stoic resilience in the aftermath must be admired. The emergency services worked themselves into a near standstill, with many firemen and ambulance crews continuing to carry out rescues even though they had severe injuries.

Still commemorated is the great courage that was shown by the crew of the Polish destroyer ORP Piorun, which was undergoing a refit at John Brown’s shipyard, who voluntarily opened up their anti-aircraft guns to try to draw the blitz fire from the Luftwaffe bombers away from the town. As a tribute, the people of Clydebank built Solidarity Plaza in the centre of Clydebank to commemorate the bravery of the Polish Navy. Just last Saturday, a new granite plaque, which took 10 men to lift, was unveiled in the plaza in a small ceremony that involved three people. I was privileged to be one of the participants.

The rebuilding of Clydebank took years, and many people had to survive in appalling conditions, facing food shortages and having to travel many miles every day to work. We can therefore understand how important community spirit was, and still is to this day, in the town; I can bear witness to that. However, very few people know that the United Kingdom Government only loaned Clydebank Burgh Council the money to rebuild the town. As far as I am aware, other towns that were blitzed were given grants. That reverse reparations money was added to and collected from household rents, and repayment continued for 50 years, until 1995.

Many events were planned to mark the 80th anniversary of the Clydebank blitz, but they were, unfortunately, cancelled due to Covid-19. However, I thank the First Minister, the Presiding Officer, Jackie Baillie MSP and Martin Docherty-Hughes MP for marking the occasion by contributing to the booklet of commemoration. We should not forget to thank Bailie Denis Agnew and the organisation committee of West Dunbartonshire Council for all their work in organising everything that has taken place. I also thank the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, which commissioned the composer Christopher Gough to write a piece of music called “Clydebank ’41” especially for the 80th anniversary.

I will finish by thanking, on behalf of the people of Clydebank, the Scottish Parliament for allowing me to have this debate on 17 March—the 80th anniversary, to the day, of the laying to rest of 22 unidentified victims in an unmarked mass grave.

Many thanks for listening to me. [Applause.]