Another Bloody Chapter In an Endless Civil War Volume 1 Page 4

  The second incident happened one night whilst on a mobile patrol. We were travelling back to base and I was travelling in the lead landie, somewhere on the outskirts of Lurgan. At the time we were possibly doing 40 mph and I was sat in the back, behind the driver’s side of a canvass-clad vehicle which had no doors on; you get the picture? It had been quiet without incident and that was it – we were going home so to speak. You know how it was; we were tired, there was no talking and we were just listening to the distinct drone of the vehicle. Suddenly: wallop; several missiles peppered the vehicle and a loud scream came from the officer in the front passenger side. I instantly cocked my weapon but couldn’t do anything because of another landie following behind; in any case, I couldn’t see anyone as there was banking either side of the road, and as I said, it was dark. They were not hit and we just carried on. It was over as fast as it started and I didn’t have time to feel any fear. The officer was in a lot of pain; he’d been hit in his left elbow and looked in a bad way. He ended up in a sling, but luckily had no breaks and was on light duties for around four weeks.

  My point here is this; a foot higher and it would have killed him stone dead! Also, had it hit our driver, then no doubt our vehicle would have left the road and plummeted down the banking; that possibly would have been the four of us done for. ‘Accident not hostile action’ would most likely have been the report. Also, had I copped it on that foot patrol, what would that have been put down to; hostile action or accident? I’m not so sure now!

  Lastly, I also did guard duty at Musgrove Park Hospital and there was a soldier in intensive care due to an RTA. He died and I remember seeing his mum crying, who had been flown over by the Army. When I think back to my own experiences, I do wonder if his death was a true RTA or hostile action. I understand there will be accidents of course, but I don’t believe, for one minute, the stats on this. The amount of violence, with bricks, kitchen sinks or whatever else that was thrown at us, must have caused many deaths, but to hide the true casualty figures just to keep the statistics down, is an injustice to all, in my opinion.

  Londonderry is known as ‘stroke city,’ not because of an increased incidence in cerebral vascular events amongst those with high blood pressure, but because it was known as Londonderry/Derry. To the Loyalists and to the British, it is the former and to the Irish and Nationalists, it is Derry. On the 24th, Londonderry District Council was given permission by the Northern Ireland Office (NIO) to change the name of the council to Derry District Council. The official name of the city remained Londonderry, but most Loyalists were left seething with an impotent rage. Then, in an incident which echoes a most inappropriate decision some 30 years later in Belfast, Derry District Council also voted to stop flying the Union Flag on council property.

  On the 26th, the Hennessy Report, into the ‘The Great Escape’ of 38 convicted PIRA/ INLA terrorists from the Maze the previous September, was made public. In its preface, James Prior wrote: ‘I arrived in Belfast on the morning of Monday 26 September 1983, the day following the escape of 38 prisoners from HM Prison, Maze. At our meeting at Stormont that day you asked me to conduct an Inquiry into the security arrangements at the Maze. You asked me to interpret my brief as widely as possible and to look at all aspects of security. I began work that afternoon.’ Prior continued: ‘We interviewed the Governor and those members of his staff, who had been on duty on 25 September or whose duties touched upon aspects of security in which we were interested, or who asked to see us in response to the letter we sent to every member of staff at the Maze. We contacted, or were contacted by, staff who had served at the prison in the past. We made clear to witnesses that their statements would not be shown to persons outside the Inquiry (unless required by a court) and would not be used against them in disciplinary proceedings. In total, we interviewed 115 past or present members of staff, while six submitted written evidence. We also wrote to each prisoner offering him the opportunity to submit written evidence, again making clear that any statements made to us, would be regarded as confidential. Twenty-eight inmates gave written evidence. We also talked to all inmates involved in the escape who were back in prison custody. We had discussions with the Secretary of State on two occasions and also with the Minister of State responsible for prisons. We saw the Permanent Under-Secretary of State at the Northern Ireland Office and members of his staff. We saw the General Officer Commanding the Army in Northern Ireland, the Commander 39 Infantry Brigade and the Prison Guard Force Commander; we also saw the Chief Constable of the Royal Ulster Constabulary – and held extensive discussions with members of their staffs. The Chief Probation Officer and members of his staff, and the Chairman of the Board of Visitors at the Maze, also assisted us. Finally, we had discussions and interviews, both formal and informal, with the staff of Prison Department.’

  This was then the brief and the painstaking way in which the report attempted to find a scapegoat. It was clear that both the Thatcher Government in general, and the NIO in particular, were looking for ways in which to switch the culpability away from themselves; the NIO was a ‘sacred cow’ and it was not about to be sacrificed; nor was Thatcher going to ‘throw herself on her sword,’ whatever the conclusion. After weighing up the ‘evidence,’ the report made the following conclusions: ‘And the task of the authorities has not been eased by the reaction of many ordinary prison officers to the government’s decisions on, for instance, prisoners’ clothing and prisoners’ visits – decisions which many officers, despite clear statements of government policy, regarded as concessions to the terrorists; concessions which some appeared to think justified them in taking a laissez-faire attitude to prisoners. The task of ensuring the security of the prison was not made easier for the authorities, by the decision of the Northern Ireland Prison Officers’ Association, shortly before the escape, to call on its members to abandon the prison, in support of a claim for a travelling time allowance, leaving it to the police to man the prison. These difficulties in the prison had their effect on the work of the four divisions that go to make up Prison Department in the Northern Ireland Office. Instead of being able to get on with their task of supervising and inspecting establishments and of ensuring the necessary improvements to security, following the rapid concentration of so many terrorists in so few prisons, they were forced to spend much of their time dealing with disturbances and protests and the Parliamentary and international interest that they aroused. Divisions had to be re-organised to deal with the ever mounting workload, and additional staff sought from the Northern Ireland Civil Service – not always with much success. These pressures on the prison authorities, together with the troubles in the Province generally, provided the prisoners with the conditions they needed in which to lay their plans for escape – conditions where manipulation became possible, collusion could not be ruled out, intimidation could flourish, weapons could be smuggled in and messages passed out and orderlies could move freely about.’

  The report was clearly leading up to ensuring that the ‘buck stopped’ inside the Maze itself; the final words of the report adequately sum up the blame-switching culture of the time. ‘The problems of the Maze: tensions can be expected to continue so long as the troubles in Northern Ireland continue. Nor will it guarantee security – no prison is ever more secure than the weakest member of its staff – and absolute security can never be guaranteed without resort to inhumane and unacceptable methods. But with inspired leadership and proper support, the prison should soon become again what it was always intended to be; the most secure prison in Northern Ireland.’ James Prior stated that there would be no ministerial resignations as a result of the report.

  Four days later, the Prison Governors’ Association and the Prison Officers Association, both claimed that political interference in the running of the Maze Prison resulted in the mass escape on 25 September 1983. Nick Scott, then Minister for Prisons, naturally rejected the allegations. The Thatcher Government and James Prior’s NIO had neatly sidestepped allegations of political interference and political incompetence, and this drove a huge wedge between what Australians call ‘Pollies’ and the Prison officers and Administration.

  On the day after the report, Daniel McIntyre (28) was murdered in a sectarian attack by the UVF, as the month ended in a flurry of deaths. In the very early hours of the 27th, following an evening’s socialising around his home town of Lurgan, Co Armagh, Mr McIntyre – a Catholic – set off to walk home to his house in the Taghnevan area. As he walked along the road towards the Taghnevan Estate, UVF gunmen, who had been waiting in a stolen car, close to the estate’s entrance for a lone Catholic to approach, jumped out and came up behind him, shooting him twice in the back of the head. As he slumped to the ground, his cowardly killers stood over him and fired two further shots into his head; he died almost immediately. The UVF gang raced off, later claiming the killing under the UVF name of the Protestant Action Force (PAF). It is this author’s firmly held belief, that Mr McIntyre was an innocent Catholic victim of Loyalist paramilitary killers; he had no connections with Republican paramilitaries.

  On the 30th, there was yet another death at a VCP; again involving joy-riders. This author has written times passim about the dangers of the phenomena, especially at times of political tension; a snap VCP manned by armed and possibly nervous soldiers, during the troubles might conceivably qualify as such. Mark Marron (23) from the Clonards area of the Lower Falls, was riding as a passenger in a stolen car, which was being driven along the Springfield Road in Belfast. A soldier on a Zebra Crossing ordered the vehicle to stop but it sped through, almost knocking him over; the soldier’s reaction was professional, legally correct and instinctive: he fired one shot at the retreating car. Mark was hit and died shortly afterwards; a later Coroners’ inquest cleared the soldier of an illegal killing and it was later pointed out that the dead man was a local ‘hood,’ who had convictions for theft and had been the subject of a PIRA punishment beating some five years earlier, when he had both arms and both legs broken.

  VCPS IN ALL WEATHERS

  Dave Judge, Royal Green Jackets

  Setting up a VCP especially a permanent one, meant hours and hours of boredom; the feeling of vulnerability when stood in the open and having to talk nicely to all of the nice civilians. Car, after car, after pissing car! What a long and boring thing the average VCP was. ‘Hello sir, sorry to stop you but can you please open your boot and bonnet for me?’ The small talk: ‘What’s your name please ... your address? Thank you. Where have you just come from sir? Where are you going now sir? Is this your car sir? What’s your date of birth please?’ All of this time, you are watching the others in the car, continually moving so as not to stand still in one place for too long (for obvious reasons) whilst conducting a balancing act with your pen, note book, rifle, radio etc.; that would put a professional juggler to shame! You would be listening to the driver whilst writing, at the same time listening to radio traffic; all that is concurrently going on in your earpiece. Watching your lads so that they know you are watching them, watching you, doing your stuff!

  Then there was the nice VCP, like when the tasty bird was pulled over. ‘Hi love,’ as you open the driver’s door and invite her to step out of the vehicle, just as you tactically position yourself by the hinges of the door. So that if she does, as you hope she will do: opens her legs just wide enough so you can get a glimpse of her gusset as she climbs out! Get her to open the boot so you may see the top of her leg when she bends over the boot catch! Ask her then to empty her glove box as you yet again tactically re-position yourself, so you might get a flash of her tits as she bends down to the glovie! Having slung your rifle, put away your pad and pen, and failed to hear any radio chatter whatsoever for the last three minutes!

  Then there is the pissed off snap VCP! In the pissing rain, in the dark and on a back road poorly lit! ‘Get out the car you fuckwit! Where have you just been? And don’t fuck me about or I’ll have you stood in the fuckin rain with me for the next hour while my lads here strip your rusty fucking wreck! That’s all OUT!’

  The month ended with a PIRA landmine attack, on an RUC patrol car at Forkhill, Co Armagh. Constable Thomas Bingham (29) and Sergeant William Savage (27), both from the East Belfast area, were driving in an unmarked car, between Forkhill and Newry when it passed over a drain underneath the road, a watching bombing team, some 600 yards away triggered the device. The massive explosion, estimated to be 1,000 lbs (455 kgs), tore the car apart, killing both officers absolutely instantly. The august tome Lost Lives stated that Constable Bingham, who had been an officer for only four years, was due to be married 18 days later; instead, his funeral was held in the same church where he was to wed his bride. Sergeant Savage had served for six years and was from the Newtownards area.

  January had ended with nine deaths; four soldiers and three policemen had died, as had two civilians; one of whom was the victim of a blatantly sectarian murder. The Provisional IRA was responsible for five of the deaths.

  2

  February

  This was a month in which ‘only’ four people died; one of whom was a soldier, but his death and two of the other participants was still bathed in controversy; the circumstances of which, have yet to become open to public scrutiny. The number of deaths was reducing, and whilst the troubles were not coming to an end, the success of the SF in containing the terrorists and the vital contribution of informers, was at least curtailing PIRA/INLA and the Loyalist paramilitaries, in their evil tasks.

  On the 11th of this month, there was a miraculous escape for schoolchildren at St Aidan’s RC Primary School, on the Nationalist Whiterock Road. A four man PIRA ASU, aware that the Army regularly patrolled with mobiles close to the school, barged into a house in Glenalina Park and held the family at gunpoint overnight. When an Army Saracen approached, the gang took up position outside the house and fired a Russian-made RPG-7 at the vehicle. The deadly missile has a muzzle velocity of 294 metres per second, with an explosive charge of around 4.4 kgs. It was used with such devastating accuracy and frequency by PIRA units in West Belfast, that Beechmount Avenue was renamed ‘RPG Avenue.’

  The missile missed and instead smashed through a gable wall and into a Reception classroom, containing 12 five-year-olds, at St Aidans Junior School, some 200 yards away. The Belfast Telegraph, of the following day, quoted a senior RUC officer who said: ‘It was a miracle no-one was killed. Anyone using an RPG-7 in a built-up area like this, must realise that they are likely to injure civilians. The people who launched this rocket were fully aware of the possibility of injuring these school children. As the children sat at their desks, the rocket crashed into the top of the blackboard and thudded into another wall, inches above the ducking children’s’ heads – showering them in bricks and debris.’ Reaction from the solidly Nationalist community was swift and, not surprisingly, condemnatory. One of the educators – Brother Paul Dunleavy described it as a: ‘….stupid reckless act….’ He continued: ‘If they want to carry on with this sort of thing, please keep it away from the children.’ A Workers’ Party Representative – Mary McMahon – said: ‘The war has come to the blackboard of the classroom. The feeling in the area is one of disgust. This was a classroom of five-year-olds; are they to be in the front-line?’ A teacher – Miss Logan – described the scene inside the classroom: ‘One minute I was speaking to the children – the next a bang. Suddenly, bricks and debris were on top of us. The children were screaming, one of them was very badly shocked but I managed to get them off the floor and out of the room.’ One of her colleagues, Liam Andrews described the scene: ‘I looked out of the window and saw smoke billowing from Miss Logan’s classroom. My God you should see the inside …..it’s in turmoil.’

  This author has written times passim of the culture of ‘touting’ or informing, and whether or not those who either infiltrated the terror groups, or simply informed as acts of dissent against their organisations or for financial gain, there can be no doubt that many lives were saved. Indeed, Martin ‘Marty’ McGartland claims, with much justification, to have saved at least 50 lives. Without wishing to degenerate the discussion into a ‘League table’ of success, informers/agents such as Kevin Fulton, Eamonn Collins, Sean O’Callaghan and Raymond Gilmour, greatly curtailed the activities of their respective Republican terror groups. Mark Urban in his superlative Big Boys’ Rules writes: ‘About 25 people active in the IRA were named as informers between 1976 and 1987. This includes those killed by the organisation itself and supergrasses. Many others have declared their treachery to the Provisionals and have been pardoned, have been taken into protective custody, or have ceased to provide intelligence but remained within their community. It is possible that around 50 active Provisionals had been informers during this period. This represents a very significant level of penetration – perhaps one in thirty or one in forty of the organisation’s frontline membership during those years.’

  Urban continues that young PIRA volunteers, who joined PIRA during this period, were more likely to die at the hands of the ‘nutting squad,’ than at the hands of the SF or through ‘own goal’ explosions. The Army Council was convinced that they were riddled by informers and became so obsessed and paranoid, that they killed several of their members purely on a capricious whim or through the sowing of misinformation, by the SF Intelligence services. Some were ‘nutted’ without evidence, simply because another PIRA member wanted to shag that person’s wife or indeed, because the ‘tout’ was shagging his wife and wished to remove him! Urban writes: ‘Doubtless the IRA has committed miscarriages of justice. One Intelligence officer told me, that he had read a Republican account of the killing of someone described as a self-confessed informer, a person whom ‘…we had never heard of.’