During the Grapple Tests Pukaki spent months patrolling the seas around Christmas Island. Because fresh water was so scarce, the crews often bathed in rainwater as they chased the rain-storms following the explosions. And they ate locally-caught fish and produce from nearby islands.
Mr Sefton was convinced the crews’ health problems were caused by fallout. But the British government denied there was any link with the tests. Sefton, observing how the British veterans were getting nowhere with their claims, decided the New Zealand veterans would go it alone.
They raised the $250,000 needed to carry out the complicated and costly genetic tests on the veterans. But even then Professor Rowland was scepticaclass="underline" “I had my doubts that we could find out anything about something that occurred 50 years ago. But the alternative was to do nothing and I felt that if we lived in a responsible society we at least should give it a try.”
Professor Rowland had access to a new technique that had been used on Chernobyl victims and nuclear workers, but never before on nuclear veterans. Rowland started selecting 50 veterans of the nuclear bomb tests and 50 controls, matched perfectly for age, lifestyle and even drinking and smoking habits. It was a painstaking task that took many years.
The results were astonishing: signs of damage in the chromosomes, the structure that contains the DNA, in the nuclear veterans, was so marked that Professor Rowland had no hesitation in signifying that this was caused by radiation. Each pair of chromosome has its own colour. A colour switch would mean a sign of genetic damage known as a chromosomal translocation. The more translocations you have, the greater the risk of developing cancers.
Professor Rowland found the translocations in the nuclear veterans were three times the number of translocations in the controls. The results were higher than the Chernobyl victims, in fact they were the highest Rowland had ever seen.
His conclusion: “Our view is that this was caused by radiation because the frequency is so high and we have taken into account every other known confounding factor. We are left with only one option: this group was damaged because the men took part in Operation Grapple.”
While the British government digested this unwelcome news, the rest of the world bowed to the inevitable.
The nuclear nations, including, America, Russia, France and China announced they would pay compensation to their nuclear veterans. Even the Manx government, the Tynwald, agreed to pay 12 veterans living on the island £8,000 each for the physical and mental anguish they had suffered through their participation in the bomb tests.
Britain now stood uniquely alone in its stubborn refusal to acknowledge the veteran’s claims. Rather than concede defeat, it dismissed the evidence of the Rowland study as “too small”.
But the Rowland evidence could not be discarded so lightly, and a high-powered firm of London solicitors decided to mount a legal challenge.
In the past the Ministry of Defence had blocked legal moves against it by saying any action would be time-barred because the bomb tests occurred outside the legal time limit. Rosenblatt solicitors decided to challenge this in the courts. If successful, it would open the way for a multi-million pound compensation claim by the veterans.
It was a high-risk strategy and the firm stood to lose millions, but it pressed on nevertheless and 1,010 veterans were chosen to fight the case in the High Court, with nine ‘lead’ cases as the stalking horses. And they believed there was really only one man capable of leading the fight. It was the man who started it all, and he was the only one who could finish it.
Ken McGinley prepared for the showdown like a veteran gunslinger. His clothes were laid neatly out on the bed in his hotel room two miles from the Royal Courts of Justice: grey slacks, with a cheese-cutter crease; crisp, blue cotton shirt; shoes shined and buffed so you could see your face in them. Tie: blue and red diagonal striped, and a dark blue blazer fresh from the dry-cleaners. On both his tie and blazer was a badge topped by a crown. On the bottom were the words: All We Seek is Justice. In the middle, the mushroom cloud of an atomic explosion in full deadly bloom.
He dressed with care, brushed his hair and regarded himself in the mirror. Satisfied, he took the lift and walked across the foyer of the hotel and out of the doors. A taxi pulled up immediately: “The High Court,” he instructed and settled back in his seat.
After a three week trial, Judge Mr Justice Foskett stunned the Ministry of Defence by casting aside the time-barred ruling, opening the way for massive compensation claims by the veterans.
There were wild scenes of jubilation outside the court. And it was a personal triumph for Ken McGinley who armed with just the contents of his brain and a photographic memory easily saw off the best efforts of the Ministry of Defence with all its vast legal clout and inside knowledge.
The hugely expensive barristers had him in the witness box for two days, but hardly landed a single blow. McGinley, adroit as ever, even had the judge smiling as he explained with characteristic Celtic bluntness his role in the 30-year battle: “I saw it as my job to speak on behalf of all the veterans; to put my head above the parapet; to get as much publicity as I could for the cause. Today, you call it ‘spin’, but to me it was nothing but the unvarnished truth.”
The judge was fulsome in his praise of McGinley:-
He was an engagingly frank and open witness who had lost none of the combative instincts that had obviously led to him becoming the champion of those he felt had been short-changed by various Governments over the years. He was an older, wiser and more restrained man than the man seen on some of the video clips I saw and as quoted in some of the newspaper cuttings that were put to him relating to things said some 20 years or more ago. There will be many who, over the years, have achieved some of the highest offices in countries throughout the world about whom the same story could be told.
It was a glowing endorsement of the achievements of the former sapper from Johnstone. Judge Foskett urged the two parties to get together “in the hope that serious efforts toward a settlement will take place at an appropriate time.” Like most observers he clearly felt that both protagonists had fought themselves to standstill and the time for reconciliation had arrived.
But as the champagne corks popped outside the Royal Courts of Justice, the horse trading between the Ministry of Defence and Rosenblatts over settlement issues was not going well.
The exact details of these negotiations are unclear. According to the MoD, a proposal for a substantial cash payment was on the table, but was rejected. According to the veteran’s legal team no formal offer was ever made, so there was nothing to reject.
There were angry exchanges on both sides which spilled over into parliament with one MP describing the “Oh yes we did; oh no we didn’t” antics as a “pantomime.” In the end in a fit of pique the MoD announced its intention to appeal the Foskett judgement. With unlimited resources from the public purse it could afford to do so.
In January 2011, the case came up in the Appeal Court and it was a fiasco for the veterans. The three presiding judges were not as accommodating as Judge Foskett and they allowed the MoD’s appeal.
The frustrating see-saw legal system of British justice catapulted the veterans back into limbo. It was a bitter blow for the veterans, and with little choice left, the decision was made to take the battle to the Supreme Court.