On a fog-shrouded evening in June 1994, a Royal Air Force Chinook helicopter crashed on the Mull of Kintyre in Scotland, killing all 29 people on board. The victims included four crew members and 25 passengers, many of whom were senior security personnel traveling from RAF Aldergrove in Northern Ireland to a conference in Inverness. More than three decades later, the tragedy remains one of the RAF's worst peacetime losses, and the pain of unanswered questions continues to haunt the families left behind.
For Nicola Rawcliffe, the loss of her brother, Major Christopher Dockerty, was a devastating blow—one that marked her family forever. "I had the harrowing task of not only receiving the devastating news delivered to me by this army officer at two in the morning, but then I also had to telephone my parents to tell them their eldest son had been killed in a Chinook helicopter crash," Rawcliffe recalled in an interview with BBC. The shock was compounded by the fact that Dockerty had named her as his next of kin, a detail she discovered only when the news arrived in the early hours of June 3, 1994.
Rawcliffe described her brother as a "gregarious chap" with a "very warm personality" and an "infectious laugh." Despite his ability to make anyone smile, Dockerty was serious when the occasion demanded it. The family, who lived in Cambridgeshire at the time, was plunged into grief, and their search for answers began almost immediately.
The Chinook helicopter was carrying a group of high-ranking officials from MI5, the Royal Ulster Constabulary, the Army, and the RAF. The crash occurred in thick fog as the aircraft approached the rugged coastline of the Mull of Kintyre. Initial investigations pointed to pilot error as the cause, a conclusion that cast a long shadow over the memory of the crew. However, after years of campaigning by the families, the two pilots were exonerated in 2011, a moment that brought some relief but left other questions unresolved.
For the families, the exoneration was a bittersweet victory. Many, including Rawcliffe and her father John Dockerty, now 96, believe that crucial information about the helicopter's airworthiness and the circumstances of the crash remains hidden. They have repeatedly called for a new, judge-led public inquiry and the release of sealed government records related to the disaster. "We just want somebody to tell us why the helicopter left the ground because we have the evidence to show that it was unairworthy," Rawcliffe told BBC. "If [Christopher] was here, he would say, 'Just keep going, you've got to keep going until you find that answer and get that truth.'"
The campaign for answers is not limited to one family. Andy Tobias, whose father Lt Col John Tobias was among the victims, has been a vocal advocate for renewed scrutiny. Tobias, who was just eight years old when his father died, called Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer's recent rejection of a new inquiry "utterly pathetic." In a letter to the families, Starmer stated that a public inquiry would not "bring any greater certainty" and would not be "in the public interest," echoing advice from the Ministry of Defence (MoD) that the sealed records offer "no insights." Tobias, speaking to BBC, responded pointedly: "He says the government is committed to transparency and accountability, but on the other hand—we'll just seal away the files for a century and tell us bereaved families there's nothing to see here. His response is utterly pathetic."
The Chinook Justice Campaign, formed by the families, has vowed to continue their fight, even threatening legal action against the UK government. "We will not give up. And we will see the MoD and UK government in court," Tobias declared.
The Ministry of Defence, for its part, maintains that the accident has already been the subject of six inquiries and investigations, including an independent judge-led review. A spokesperson for the MoD reiterated to BBC: "The Mull of Kintyre crash was a tragic accident, and our thoughts and sympathies remain with the families, friends and colleagues of all those who died. The accident has already been the subject of six inquiries and investigations, including an independent judge-led review." The MoD has also emphasized that the sealed records contain personal data, and releasing them would breach data protection rules.
The government’s stance has left campaigners feeling stonewalled. Rawcliffe said the Prime Minister had "slammed the door in our face" and urged him to "stand up and get the truth." Her father, John Dockerty, echoed her frustration: "I think it's quite disgusting that it has been allowed to fester as long as it has without getting to the bottom of things." The families believe that only a full, transparent inquiry and the release of all records can provide the closure they seek.
Prime Minister Starmer, in his letter, acknowledged the pain of the families but insisted that "given the extensive investigations already conducted into the crash, including two independent, judge-led processes, inquiries by both House of Commons and House of Lords select committees, and the original RAF board of inquiry, I do not believe that a new inquiry can bring any greater certainty or is in the public interest." He also stated the government was "committed to transparency and accountability," but maintained that the sealed records, protected for 100 years, offered no new insights and could not be released due to data protection laws.
For many, the debate over the sealed records has become a symbol of broader tensions between government transparency and the privacy rights of those involved. The families argue that the public interest in understanding the full truth of a national tragedy outweighs the concerns over personal data, especially after so many years.
Despite the government’s refusal, the families’ campaign shows no signs of waning. Rawcliffe has visited the crash site twice since the accident to remember her brother and to honor the memory of all those lost. The group continues to press for answers, gathering support from the public and advocacy organizations.
The Mull of Kintyre crash remains a somber chapter in British military history, not only for the scale of the loss but for the lingering sense of unfinished business. As the families push forward, their quest for truth stands as a poignant reminder of the enduring impact of tragedy—and the human need for closure, even when the official doors appear firmly closed.
