Spin is the last refuge for the MoD (and Labour)

I looked out of my kitchen window last Saturday to see an astonishing sight: a silver sword flashing above my hedge in the sunshine. The crunch of army boots told me it was a soldier and the church bells' pealing told me it was a wedding. I'm as nosy as any of my neighbours when it comes to village rites of passage, so I rushed down to stand with the other rubberneckers in the churchyard. My neighbour the headhunter's wife was away, but I found lots of fellow-gawpers from the village hall fundraising committee.

The bride was marrying a soldier from a barracks near to hereabouts, and the groom had asked six comrades-in-arms to form an honour guard. Soldiers in uniform are a rare sight on an ordinary Saturday in my village. In fact, uniformed military personnel are a rare sight anywhere outside garrison towns - they are deemed to "cause offence" to people who take offence easily. Men in uniform are routinely (and politely) asked to leave one renowned London department store, for example. They are also asked to remove their uniforms inside the military ward of Selly Oak NHS hospital when they return from Op Telic or Op Herrick with bits missing.

Anyway, they looked splendid last Saturday. The groom was in his best blues; the honour guard in khaki. "He's in his No 1s for his big day, but we're in our greens so we don't outshine him," said a young corporal. They were all wearing campaign medals: I guessed the dusty yellow ribbon was Iraq, but he had to tell me the others were Kosovo (Kosovo? He didn't look old enough) and Afghanistan. Only one soldier wasn't wearing a medal: had he not been on a tour? He said yes, Iraq. Twice! But the MoD had a backlog on medals; they were taking ages. "Bloody MoD," said another. "One of our blokes has been waiting two years for his medal and he was on Telic 1." (Which was 2003.)

Still, medalled or not, they were impeccably turned out, beaming and boiling hot.

Not as hot as it is in Basra right now (50C), where the rump of our troops are hunkered down in their shrinking bases, dodging rocket fire and bracing themselves for doing top cover on the supply runs to Basra Palace from the airport. "Doing top cover", as I understand it, means you open the top hatch of your inadequate Warrior and provide cover by sticking out your head and gun-arm. Not something I'd welcome any son of mine doing. Nor scooting around Basra in an inadequate Snatch Land Rover.

The young corporals were lucky it was last Saturday they were talking to me. Had the wedding been today, they would have been in breach of new guidelines from the Ministry of Defence, which ban soldiers, sailors and airforce personnel from blogging, taking part in surveys, speaking in public, posting on bulletin boards (which must include posting comments on the Telegraph online), playing in multi-player online computer games, or sending text messages or pictures to phones without the permission of a superior.

The guidelines state that "all such material must help to maintain and, where possible, enhance the reputation of defence", and they apply whether the Serviceman is "on-duty, off-duty or in spare time". "Bloody MoD can't get our medals out," spoken by a serving corporal wearing No 2s and his Telic medal does not "enhance the reputation of defence" when "defence" means the MoD. Bad boy! The thousand press officers will all be very, very cross. But since I specially didn't mention your cap-badge, you should be OK.

The MoD press office, now calling themselves "Team Defence", would like to keep the public perception of "Defence Identity and Brand Management" tightly in their own hands. The recently released strategy document from their new head of press (now called "Director General Media Communications") is a horrible bit of PowerPoint guff which aims to teach MoD spinners how to spin better (which gives the lie to Gordon Brown's airy promise to dump the "culture of spin").

I'm not alone in thinking the MoD is an egregiously clodhopping government department. Headed as it is by the worst Defence Secretary of this Government, the unappealing Scots lawyer from Kilwinning (any Scot knows the jokes about Kilwinning: ask your nearest Glaswegian), it doesn't seem to know how to manage defence in any of its aspects, on the field or off.

You get the constant impression that the Rt Hon Des Browne is embarrassed about the two "hot" wars he's running. You can't fail to get the impression that he doesn't much like the military. It was Browne who was in charge of the barking mess that was made of that recent operetta, My Captive Story, when young Mr Bean was allowed to weep in the papers over his iPod, snatched by the Iranians.

Browne said the mess wasn't his fault: no. More like the Navy's fault. (The new MoD guidelines will prevent personnel selling stories in future, but the Navy's embarrassment will take a generation to live down.)

The Army Rumour Service (one of my favourite websites) has been chuntering, in a bemused way, over the new ban on: a) speaking to a member of the public at a wedding, and b) posting rudely about MoD daftness.

This was the website that campaigned (victoriously) to have Hon. Lt Tulbahadur Pun VC brought to Britain for medical treatment, and for a SSAFA home-from-home for Service families to be allowed near Headley Court in Ashtead, Surrey. (Both of which battles Des Browne climbed aboard, after they were won.) It's a tightly moderated, but unofficial, website - knockabout, noisy and rude. But utterly loyal to the Armed Forces. Will Team Defence consider that it "enhances" the "brand", I wonder? They'd better.

Last Updated: 12:01am BST 11/08/2007

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