McGinley and a contingent of nuclear veterans watched the proceedings from their vantage point in the public gallery. As the House rose for the night, McGinley stared down at the MPs who had so cynically scuttled the veterans’ chance of justice. One of the MPs, an Eton educated son of a former Army General, met McGinley’s eyes. The two gazed at each other across the chasm, and for the first time McGinley realised the extent of the uphill fight he faced.
McGinley, his faith in the democratic process shredded, determined to carry on the fight with renewed vigour. He resumed his travels the length and breadth of the country attending inquests, public meetings, inquiries and pension tribunals.
At home he burned the midnight oil compiling and tabulating medical and service records of the three thousand-plus nuclear veterans that had now joined his protest campaign. His book-keeping skills were brought to good use for this work, and he kept detailed records of every member.
Even a cursory examination of these records revealed evidence that the rates of cancers among test participants were far higher than was normal. Several illustrious scientists including Alice Stewart from Birmingham University who discovered the dangers of X-rays on unborn children agreed and piled on the pressure for official action.
While the scientists and the politicians argued, disturbing new allegations added to the feverish atmosphere. Newly-discovered government documents suggested nuclear servicemen were deliberately used as ‘guinea pigs’ to see what the effects the bombs would have on them. These claims opened up a whole new territory for McGinley and his veterans to exploit.
NUCLEAR GUINEA PIGS
Were servicemen deliberately exposed to radiation for the purposes of scientific experimentation? It is a question that has been bitterly argued about for decades. It all started with the release in 1983 of a ‘Top Secret’ document from the government’s Defence Research Policy Committee, dated May 20, 1953, which contained the statement:-
The army must discover the detailed effects of various types of explosion on equipment, stores and men with and without various types of protection.
This oft-quoted document was clear proof, according to McGinley and his supporters that servicemen had been used as human guinea pigs during the atomic tests.
The government disagreed, arguing that dummies in various uniforms had been used to test the effects and it was wrong to suggest that men had been used as laboratory animals.
At first the government line held sway as historian Lorna Arnold and others with privileged access to government archives provided supporting evidence in the form of photographs which showed that dummies had been placed strategically on the firing ranges.
Armed with this information, the Ministry of Defence went on the attack. Supporters in parliament spoke of their ‘utter conviction’ that the twenty thousand servicemen at the bomb tests were not exposed to any danger whatsoever.
Statement after statement declared no British troops received a measurable radiation dose; British troops were not affected by blast or heat; British troops were stationed so far away from the blasts that they stood more chance of getting a radiation dose sitting at home in England than on the bomb sites in the Pacific. They made witnessing a nuclear bomb test sound like a routine training exercise.
Curiously, the other nuclear weapon nations took a different view. They openly admitted that men were, indeed, deliberately exposed to see how troops would react in battlefield conditions during a nuclear war. They saw it as a patriotic duty for their men to be shown in the frontline of a nuclear attack.
Photographs and newsreels were released of soldiers marching through fallout, and even charging through ground zero within seconds of the explosions. American GIs were pictured unfurling the Stars and Stripes in nuclear bomb craters, and Soviet Special Forces were depicted parachuting from aircraft flying through the mushroom clouds. The Chinese used the novel approach of dispatching 100 sword-brandishing horsemen in a cavalry charge toward the towering explosions.
The British government remained in denial even though more declassified documents emerged from the Public Records office at Kew Gardens declaring that servicemen were indeed used to study the effects of blast and fallout.
One particular document set out in graphic detail how at least 250 servicemen were ordered into positions, some just two miles from an atomic explosion.
The report refers to a series of tests, codenamed Buffalo, at Maralinga in 1956. Headed “Indoctrination of Service Personnel,” it tells of a plan to use servicemen in an experiment to ‘discover the effects of atomic weapons.’ Detailed planning arrangements are discussed, including the problems of transporting the ‘indoctrinees’ to the bomb sites and how they would be deployed once they got there.
Lectures and general instruction were to be given the men, and there were to be conducted tours of the range areas prior to the explosions. When the big moment came, the men were taken to between two and four miles from the blast and ‘exposed to flash, heat and blast effects.’ What protection the luckless indoctrinees were to be given during this stage of the operation is not made clear.
Later the servicemen were required to pass through a health control unit and don protective clothing to enter the contaminated areas. On their return the men passed through decontamination centres and finally underwent monitoring by doctors.
After their ‘indoctrination’ the men were to be dispersed back to their units. No official records have yet been released to indicate what happened to these men. A few of the survivors, however, emerged in the mid-1980s to tell their stories.
Under oath, Colonel Peter Anthony Lowe of the Royal Horse Artillery, told an Australian royal commission how he had been stationed in Munster, West Germany, when he got a phone call from his commanding officer.
His statement read: “The phone call came out of the blue and he asked me if I would like to go on a trip to Australia for three weeks. I said that of course I would. Within a few days I had discovered from talking with fellow officers that there were atomic trials in the offing and observers were required.”
Colonel Lowe was sent to the proving grounds at Maralinga and watched an explosion from a hillside about five miles from ground zero. Later he went into the target area wearing gas masks, boots and protective clothing. He recalled he did not suffer undue trauma from his first encounter with an atomic explosion.
The second was different: “I observed the second blast stationed in a closed down tank. This was very scary indeed. I do not know exactly how far the tank was from ground zero, but the blast moved the tank about ten feet sideways. I was watching through a periscope and it went opaque straight away because of the sand blasting effect which ruined the optics. For this exercise I was wearing ordinary military gear with no film badge. After a decent interval I was told to evacuate the tank and return by truck to the camp.”
Colonel Lowe suffered serious health consequences which he blamed on his atomic experiences. He developed duodenal ulcers soon after returning home and then he contracted cancer which required his stomach to be removed.
The Australian Royal Commission threw up many similar examples. It heard how servicemen were deliberately exposed to radiation by being ordered to ‘crawl, lie, walk and run’ in radioactive dust after each nuclear test. The purpose of this was not explained to the hundreds of men involved. Admittedly, much of this evidence was anecdotal, but the sheer number of veterans who came forward to tell similar stories was compelling.