What Veterans Are Really Saying About Al Carns and the Troubles Bill

Ministers are hiding behind Carns’ medals to sell a Troubles Bill that still leaves Northern Ireland soldiers in the dock. Can his reputation survive?

When justiceforveterans.uk posted asking whether Al Carns’ honour can survive Westminster’s spin on the Troubles Bill, it wasn’t a rhetorical flourish. It was a genuine question: can a man with a hard-earned military reputation be used as political camouflage without that reputation being burned in the process?

The reaction from veterans and security professionals to Carns’ recent BFBS appearance answers that question more starkly than any op-ed ever could.

What follows isn’t about character assassination. No serious person doubts that Carns was a brave, competent officer. The issue is what he’s doing now, and what that does to the meaning of “honour” for those who wore the uniform in uglier, murkier wars than Afghanistan.

“You’re only as good as your last f**k-up”

One comment goes straight to the heart of it:

“…if he doesn’t find a way to secure the trust of veterans… he will only be remembered as a weak ‘yes man’ and all that has gone before will become forgotten. You are, after all, only as good as your last f$$k up.”

That is precisely the tension the original post tried to surface.

Our piece argued that ministers are leaning on Carns’ medals and Afghanistan record to sell a package of “protections” that don’t alter the core injustice: Northern Ireland veterans can still be hauled into court decades later for split-second decisions in a dirty political conflict.

The veterans commenting aren’t questioning what Carns did in combat. They’re saying: if you lend your name and your past to dress up a rotten Bill, that becomes your legacy. The last act can wipe out the story you thought you’d written.

Betrayal from within the ranks

Several voices go further and call it plainly a betrayal.

• Ex-military politicians across the board are accused of “failing veterans”, with specific anger that even an ex-Para MP hasn’t led a serious push to scrap the legislation.

• Carns and Dan Jarvis are described as having “betrayed our Veterans in pursuit of a political career… They will never be forgiven.”

• Another comment goes all biblical: “I hope he doesn’t spend all the 30 pieces of silver in the same store.”

This isn’t casual online abuse. It’s the language soldiers reserve for those who, in their view, have crossed the line from hard political compromise into outright selling out.

Our original post said the real issue was whether Carns’ honour can survive being used as “political cover” for a Bill that keeps NI veterans in the firing line. The comments show that, for many, that question has already been answered: no.

Once you front that sort of legislation, you are no longer “the lads’ man in Westminster”; you are Westminster’s man sent back to placate the lads.

“Warrior” versus political tool

The most revealing exchange is an argument over whether Carns deserves comparison with SAS legend Blair “Paddy” Mayne.

One veteran calls Carns “every bit the warrior… reminiscent of the late Paddy Mayne”. Another absolutely rejects that, saying there is “nothing… even microscopically similar” between them and pointing to a crucial distinction:

· Mayne fought to protect others because he believed deeply in what he was doing, with no eye on a political career.

· Carns is now seen (rightly or wrongly) as using his credentials for “personal gain”, absent when it matters, talking in the “I”, and fronting a policy that leaves those who can’t protect themselves even more exposed.

That second voice then defines a “warrior” in terms most Banner veterans would recognise:

“A true warrior is self aware… capable of extreme violence but in the protection of those that cannot protect themselves. And they do not suffer from grandiose illusions… What I see now is not a warrior as I understand it to be, he is not protecting those who cannot protect themselves and he is falling prey to his own PR team. That’s a fail on all counts.”

That’s the heart of it. Our post argued that using an Afghanistan officer to front this Bill allows ministers to hide behind “military credibility” while ignoring the specific moral and legal quagmire of Operation Banner.

These comments go a step further: they suggest that by allowing himself to be used in that way, Carns is stepping out of the warrior role altogether. You’re not protecting the men in the dock; you’re protecting the politicians in the studio.

A few still want to give him the benefit of the doubt

It’s not a complete pile-on. There are voices urging restraint.

Tim Collins, himself no stranger to hard calls, suggests Carns is “actually on our side but doing his level best in a nest of vipers”, and asks people to give him a chance. Another commenter says it will be “interesting which veterans amongst Labour ministers and MPs makes a stand and/or falls on their sword over this issue.”

There’s a sliver of hope in that: a sense that honour could still be salvaged if Carns chooses one of the options another commenter lays out bluntly:

1. Force a meaningful amendment (judged “very unlikely”),

2. Vote for the Act and “betray all he stood for”, or

3. Resign “with his honour intact/enhanced”.

In other words, the door isn’t completely closed. But it is closing fast.

Our original post drew a clear line: the issue is not Carns’ courage or conduct in uniform. The comments show some are still clinging to that distinction, hoping the soldier they once followed will, at the last moment, stop doing PR for a Bill they see as fundamentally unjust.

No honour in selling “totally bogus” protections

Richard Williams, former SAS commander, is quoted with devastating clarity:

“[T]hose, like Carns, that try vainly to sell the value of these totally bogus five… protections for veterans… in years to come [people] will look at those veterans persecuted by inquests initiated by this dreadful Troubles Bill in the same way as they now look at shell-shocked soldiers executed by firing squad in WW1 — as loyal and honourable servants of their nation sacrificed on a bonfire lit by ambitious politicians and blind arrogance.”

That pretty much sums up the argument in the JusticeForVeterans.uk post.

We said the “remote evidence, anonymity, advisory panels and the like” are “legal niceties and admin tweaks – helpful for officials, maybe” but irrelevant to the core injustice: men who served in an undeclared civil conflict can still be pursued for doing what the state asked of them.

Williams’ line cuts through the euphemisms. If the protections are bogus, then anyone helping to sell them — however decorated — is taking part in a modern version of the old pattern: the state decorates you when it needs you, then scapegoats you when it suits.

The wider indictment: not just one man, but a system

Some of the comments zoom out:

• The Government is called “spineless” for enforcing the whip to ram the Bill through.

• There is talk of a likely “ping-pong” between Commons and Lords and of SAS Association legal action as possible routes to derail the Bill.

• There’s open contempt for “paper-thin spin without substance” and references to a “gang of four” ex-military politicians who have “sold their souls to the devil”.

This reinforces the point we made about Westminster using Carns as cover. The anger is not only directed at him personally. It’s directed at a political machine that:

1. Creates the problem (decades of messy, politically constrained rules of engagement in NI),

2. Abandons those who acted under those constraints, and

3. Then drags out a decorated Afghan veteran to tell the public it’s all now sorted.

From that perspective, Carns is both symbol and agent. And that’s why the question of his honour matters. If even he is seen to have bent the knee to the spin, what hope is there that the system will ever treat Northern Ireland veterans justly?

So, can Al Carns’ honour survive this?

Judging by these reactions, many veterans and operators have already reached their verdict: no.

To them, honour isn’t a set of ribbons you can keep polished while you front legislation that leaves your own generation of soldiers exposed. Honour is whether you stand between your people and the state when the state turns round and points the finger.

A minority still hope Carns will prove he is “actually on our side” — by forcing serious change, breaking ranks, or walking away rather than selling what they see as a dud product. Few are holding their breath.

That window is closing. Every interview defending “totally bogus” protections, every whipped vote for this Troubles Bill, pushes him further from the warrior they once knew — or in some cases revered — and closer to exactly what they fear most: a political tool, not a shield.

That’s the grim conclusion the comments point towards — and it’s the same question our original post asked, now sharpened by the voices of those who served:

Not “Was Al Carns a good soldier?” but “When it counted for Northern Ireland veterans, did he stand with them — or with Westminster’s spin?”