Hansard

I thank Gil Paterson for securing this members’ business debate to mark the 80th anniversary of the devastating events that took place in Clydebank.

It is only right and proper that we have come together to reflect on what was the worst destruction and loss of civilian life in Scotland during the second world war, especially because the planned commemorations have been so impacted by the pandemic. Before I address that, as other colleagues have done I acknowledge, on the occasion of his final chamber speech, Gil Paterson’s contribution to the work of this institution.

Gil is another one of the class of 99 who is standing down at the coming election. He has been a mainstay of Parliament since he was first elected, serving as a list member for the Central Scotland and then West of Scotland regions before winning the Clydebank and Milngavie constituency in 2011. He has served his constituents with great diligence, and I wish him well in what I hope will be a long and enjoyable retirement from front-line politics.

What is clear from the debate is the widespread recognition of the formidable spirit of the people of Clydebank, and of the bravery and commitment that they showed in rebuilding their community and lives under such terrible circumstances. As we have heard, over the course of two nights more than 400 Luftwaffe bombers dropped more than 1,000 bombs and incendiaries on the town. Ironically, neither of their principal targets—the John Brown shipyard and Beardmore’s diesel engine works—were seriously damaged, relatively speaking, but the devastation otherwise was unimaginable in its scale and impact.

The first raid lasted nine hours; the second, seven and a half. The terror that was visited on those who were caught up in the raids is completely unimaginable. It is horrifying to think that of approximately 12,000 houses, only seven remained undamaged by the blitz, leaving—as we have heard—more than 35,000 people homeless and so many families devastated by loss and injury, with more than 500 residents being killed and in excess of 600 being seriously injured. As Gil Paterson and Gillian Martin highlighted, the health legacy was substantial.

Even in those catastrophic circumstances, the blitz did not break the spirit of the people of Clydebank, whose unwavering courage in the face of the Luftwaffe was evident in their remarkable deeds over the course of those two nights. Confronting utter devastation, they pulled together and worked continuously for three days to rescue trapped victims and minimise losses. The vibrant community that we see today is the very best legacy of their unwavering determination and courage.

Not only did the people of Clydebank pull together, but, as colleagues have noted, the brave crew of the Polish Navy destroyer ORP Piorun played a significant role in the town’s defence while she was docked for a refit at John Brown’s shipyard, firing a sustained anti-aircraft barrage at the attacking force. Coincidentally, prior to the Polish Navy acquiring her, the ORP Piorun was constructed in that same John Brown dockyard at Clydebank that she defended during the blitz.

On 14 March 2009, a monument that commemorates the civilians who were killed during the blitz was unveiled in West Dunbartonshire, with the names of the people inscribed on a bronze plaque. That memorial sits over the remains of Clydebank’s unclaimed dead to ensure that we never forget those who lost their lives, and that we allow current and future generations to learn from the events of the past.

Another memorial—known as Solidarity Plaza—is located directly opposite the town hall and serves as a fitting tribute to the bravery and selflessness of the Polish crew of ORP Piorun. It is very appropriate that we have such tangible reminders of the events of 80 years ago.

I am delighted to contribute to the debate and to pay tribute to Gil Paterson as he calls time on his lengthy stint in Parliament. It is testimony to the subject matter and to the esteem in which Gil is held that so many members have stayed so late to make speeches—some of them memorable and moving and, in Bill Kidd’s case, rather colourful.