Seòmar agus comataidhean

People said that unwed mothers could not take care of a child, but it was worse than that, because they were looked upon as being disgraceful. It was even harder for them, because they were regarded as bad women.

I am privileged to have in my constituency Glencorse barracks, in Penicuik, which is the home of 2 Scots, the second battalion of the Royal Regiment of Scotland. Across the road and up the hill from that, there are army homes in Milton Bridge. I have visited both and, in due course, I will refer to the meeting that I had with the wives and partners and will speak about the issues that they face. I agree with the cabinet secretary that their support is essential in sustaining the morale of our service personnel.

The first, though obvious, observation to make is that the term “veterans” embraces many different people: those who have had short service careers; those who are long serving; those who have been on the front line in places of conflict and combat, peacekeeping; and those who have not. There are those who live alone and others who live with parents or partners and have parental responsibilities. There are those who have suffered life-changing injuries and those with combat stress. That list is not exhaustive; therefore, one size does not fit all, but there are common experiences.

First, I will touch on the issue of data, which is not a boring topic but is fundamental to identifying the breadth of the challenges and meeting them. I note that, for the first time, in the Scottish 2022 census, there was a question about previous experience in the armed forces. I understand that that information has yet to be published, but it will be very useful. We know that our servicemen and servicewomen face particular challenges as they re-enter the civilian community. Living and working in a culture of conformity, structure, obedience, rank and service tours that take them away for months on end, and where access to housing and healthcare is provided while income is guaranteed, all contrasts starkly with life in a civilian community.

They go from tours that take them away from family, partners and friends to the world of the civilian, in which decisions and choices that perhaps were previously made for them now have to be made by them. They are home most of the time; they have to make their own health provision, find work and fit in. The comradeship that came with the job may be distant, and they have to make new social ties. That is not just hard for them, it is often very hard for their families. Their partner or wife will have run a household without them for months on end, making all the day-to-day decisions, even when they were on leave. There have to be adjustments all round—that is true for any children, too. They have to fit back into a domestic household that functioned quite well without them. If they have returned from some horror overseas, that has to be factored in.

Indeed. I tried to cover most things, but my list was not exhaustive.

Of course, funding to provide routes to adjustment helps, as well as person-to-person support. I note that, between 2020 and 2023, £750,000 was allocated to support work in health, wellbeing and quality of life, which has been expanded to include all veterans over 60 instead of 65.

I will dedicate the rest of my speaking time to veterans’ partners and families—especially those in which there are children. After all, wherever a father, mother or partner goes, children often have to follow, which means changing homes and schools and adapting to yet another community. I have to say, though, that Penicuik—both the schools and the community at large—has welcomed those stationed at Glencorse. Indeed, when the barracks was threatened with closure by the MOD, the community rallied round to save it, and it has been reprieved.

It is difficult for a wife or partner to hold down a career when they are on the move. Children, too, may find that, within months of settling in one school, they are off to another. When I met wives and partners of servicemen from Glencorse, I was made very aware of the restrictions on their lives—which, to be clear, they accept without complaint. They also support each other, especially when a partner is being sent on a long tour to a difficult part of the world. Yet, apart from setting up online businesses, the mobility of their partners prevented them, in many ways, from following careers.

That must mean that, eventually, when their armed forces partners end their final tour of duty, even more huge adjustments have to be made all round. On discharge, a home has to be found and a GP registered with. I note the reference that the cabinet secretary and Edward Mountain made to the importance of the MOD ensuring that medical records are transferred promptly. There are also the issues of schools and, not least, employment to be dealt with. All of that must be done while two people—let alone any children—have to get used to being with each other 24/7.

For some, that transition simply does not work. There can be marriage and relationship break-ups, with all the fallout that can be predicted. Some turn to alcohol and, indeed, drugs, which, for some, can lead, in time, to homelessness and even imprisonment. Lack of employment can be a major component of that. Veterans have skills that can be carried over into civilian life, which should be utilised. There are staff in the Parliament, especially in security roles, who have a background in military service.

Our veterans make that huge adjustment to civilian life. It is not only essential but just that we help them, given the job that they have done on our behalf, which might have involved seeing dreadful sights that they will carry with them throughout their lives.

I know that, to an extent, the cabinet secretary has already addressed this, but I ask him to set out, in his summing-up speech, how support is extended to our veterans’ immediate family—the parents, the partners, the wives and the children—when that transition becomes a reality, given all the challenges—private, personal and public—that I have touched on, which will undoubtedly follow.

That is because you are old.

I, too, thank John Mason for securing the debate, although I leave to others the question of whether the statistics stand up to scrutiny.

My speech comes with a health warning. For me, the benefit of camping is to bring back sharp memories of the 90 per cent of my camping experiences that were determined by the elements—I say to John Mason that I am talking about less of a drop than a deluge. I will exemplify by describing two camping experiences, but there were others.

The first comes from when I was a child, when, on warm sunny days—yes, in childhood, there appeared to be some—we would plead with my mother to fetch two blankets, peg them to the washing line and pull them outwards to provide a makeshift tent. We would add a bit of carpet inside and nestle down with comics and juice, and we were in a world of our own.

The second example was when I was the girl guide patrol leader of the daffodils—can you imagine it, Presiding Officer?—and our troop went camping from Edinburgh to faraway North Berwick. We lugged with us sailors’ kit bags—mine belonged to my Uncle Dod, who had been in the merchant navy, so it bore the ravages of time. It was heavy and awkward and entirely inappropriate, but it was my pride and joy. At our destination, we had to erect heavy-duty bell tents, which slept a patrol of eight or so, hammering the tent pegs in ourselves and then building from twigs and branches a rack for the centre to lift our kit bags free from the damp ground. Although I had a real groundsheet, I had no sleeping bag—few working folk had them—but, as part of my guide training, I had been taught how to overlap blankets as a substitute. By the way, the overlapping unscrambled itself in the night, leaving me pretty chilled.

One night, complying with tradition, we had a midnight feast in the tent at 8 pm, as we could not wait for dark, let alone midnight. As we consumed smuggled cold baked beans washed down with Creamola foam—I will provide a glossary—we thought that we were living the high life. Ah, the simplicity of youth. We were allocated tasks in rotation. My patrol started on cooking breakfast, which it vaguely resembled, although the scrambled eggs were somewhat idiosyncratic. Another patrol was sent to dig latrines and so on—I say to Mr Mason that there were no mod cons for us.

However, soon after we completed our wee settlement, the skies opened and, over the next few days, the rain varied only in quality and quantity. Bell tents began to sag, as did our spirits. One touch of the canvas and water poured in. Even groundsheets lost their efficacy.

Finally, our guide leader announced that we had to leave the sinking ship—an appropriate term, given the water surrounding us. A few of us, including me, were handpicked to stay behind and sleep overnight in a local school hall and, the next day, loosen the guy ropes and let the tents blow dry in the predicted wind. That day, like the cavalry over the hill, came a troop of North Berwick boy scouts to rescue us and our equipment.

So it came to pass that I met my very first serious boyfriend, whose name—unluckily for him—is not lost in the mists of time. Where are you now, Colin Campbell? I hope that he is still alive and kicking. I was 14 and he was 18 and, from my perspective, he was a man. We had only one date after that. When we were strolling down Princes Street, my shoe—embarrassingly—fell off. That mortified me. However, that is another story. I got over that, but he was the first boyfriend of a selective few, so he was a big marker in my life and definitely a benefit of camping.

I declare an interest as a former secondary teacher. It was one of my former professions, and I have high regard for it and hope that a settlement can be reached.

What will the proposed pay settlement mean for teachers in Scotland, particularly compared with teachers in the rest of the United Kingdom?

The legislation refers to the use of animals such as Asian elephants for the entertainment of tourists. The cabinet secretary referenced her letter to me. Will she meet me and the chief executive of Save The Asian Elephants to see what measures the Scottish Government can take to help end exploitation of those magnificent beasts?

To ask the Scottish Government what its position is on introducing legislation in Scotland similar to the United Kingdom Animals (Low-Welfare Activities Abroad) Bill. (S6O-01995)

To ask the First Minister what impact the proposed pay settlement for teachers, if accepted, will have on other Scottish Government budgets. (S6F-01901)

On a point of order, Presiding Officer.

I understand that this is an amendment to a business motion, but I am hearing a speech about council matters. I seek your guidance as to whether this is relevant.