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Between 1969 and 1998, over 4,000 people lost their lives in the small country of Northern Ireland. The vast majority of these deaths were sectarian in nature and involved ordinary civilians, killed by the various paramilitary groups. These organisations murdered freely and without remorse, considering life a cheap price to pay in the furtherance of their cause. The words 'Why us?' were uttered by many families whose lives were ripped asunder by The Troubles. Thousands of innocents received a life sentence at the hands of the terrorists; these, then, are their words, the words of those who survived such attacks, and of those left behind. These poignant and tragic stories come from the people who have been forced to live with the emotional shrapnel of terrorism.
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First published 2022
The History Press
97 St George’s Place, Cheltenham,
Gloucestershire, GL50 3QB
www.thehistorypress.co.uk
© Ken Wharton, 2022
The right of Ken Wharton to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 0 7509 9976 2
Typesetting and origination by The History Press
Printed and bound in Great Britain by TJ Books Limited, Padstow, Cornwall.
eBook converted by Geethik Technologies
I can see you, you’re dead inside, but still you won’t look at me. Ignoring me won’t change the facts that I took your dad away from you. There’s more of me at the front door; I smashed the glass and took a life; I settled in your wall. You know I’m here. Don’t look, don’t look all you want, but I’m inside your head.
Laura Burns, whose father was murdered by Republican terrorists
The thing which hit me the most was the empty shell which had once been my mummy, sitting in a corner.
Mary McCurrie, whose father was murdered by Republican terrorists
I am often asked: do I forgive? I can’t forgive, no, not for them taking those young lives away. My emotions have never changed: I am still very, very sad, and what my poor mother and father went through; I can never forget their agony.
Anthony O’Reilly is the brother of Geraldine O’Reilly, murdered in a UVF bombing in Belturbet
My family didn’t know where I lived so I heard it from the news. My father and my young brother went to identify him; on a mortuary slab awash from Terence’s blood. My father never got over it. At 62 years he suffered a brain haemorrhage and died soon afterwards. No one was ever charged with his murder.
Denis Maguire, brother of former UDR soldier killed by the UFF
There were bodies all around me. Some crying out for help. It was the quiet ones who scared me. Just lying still. The men of evil came to our town that day. They stole the lives of many.
Laura Hamilton, who was badly injured alongside her sister Nicola in the RIRA Omagh bombing
Paramilitaries don’t realise that they’re not only murdering one person, they’re tearing a whole family apart. It has been a very difficult thing for us to live with, but talking about Gavin helps me. It is difficult even now to realise that he has been dead longer than he was alive.
Phyllis Brett, mother of Gavin who was murdered by UFF terrorists in Belfast
Mum falteringly told us ‘I’ve got something to tell, you … ‘Your Daddy’s dead, kids’ … and then collapsed into tears. I was scooped into the arms of Sheila Jackson, whilst my Mother hugged the boys. I didn’t want to cry, but felt I should. I felt numb and very strange as I had not witnessed this kind of emotion in adults before. I remember also feeling angry that nobody had warned me that my Daddy might lose his life in Northern Ireland.
Anita Haughey, whose soldier father was killed by the IRA when she was just 7
He wasn’t coming home, my boy, our boy wasn’t coming home, as he lay covered in a tartan blanket in the Army barracks.
Claire Monteith, whose brother Alan was killed in the Omagh blast
There is no difference at all in a broken heart; they are still broken, whoever you are.
Mary Hull, whose husband was murdered by the UVF in Belfast
I was praying that David would be alive, no matter how serious his injuries were; how selfish of me. At exactly 9 p.m., my sister Heather phoned; her exact words were: ‘Ruth, it’s all over, David is dead.’
Ruth Forrest, whose brother David was killed by the IRA in the Teebane crossroads massacre
The hurt is still there, but we have had to learn to live with it. I have a little cry about Patrick every now and then.
Geraldine Ferguson, whose son Patrick was shot dead by the Real IRA at Massereene Barracks in 2009
Imagine
Foreword by Kenny Donaldson, Director of Services, SEFF
Abbreviations Used in this Book
Author’s Personal Notes
Introduction
Acknowledgements
Chapter One: The Paramilitaries
Chapter Two: 1969–72
Chapter Three: 1973–75
Chapter Four: 1976–80
Chapter Five: 1981–85
Chapter Six: 1986–90
Chapter Seven: 1991–97
Chapter Eight: 1998 – Good Friday and Beyond
Selected Bibliography
I would like the reader to picture how life might have felt, living in an alien world, a world of suspicion and fear. Can you imagine what life would be like, in that alien world, where a seemingly innocent knock at the door might herald something more that the postman or the milkman coming to collect his money? Imagine that insistent rapping on the door might herald violent death; are you able to look inside of your worst nightmares? Can you picture a man with a black hood showing only his eyes? Can you imagine the shock of seeing a weapon in his or her hand? Could you even begin to process the brain-freezing realisation that they were there to rob you of life’s most precious gift? Imagine your shocked stare, with your brain and legs simultaneously locking, that cold stab of fear as your own life-clock suddenly clicked on to midnight?
The man standing there, at your front door had come with but one purpose: to end your life. Your premature demise was now almost inevitable and imminent. It could be as a consequence of several factors: the church at which you worshipped, your job, or the uniform you wore; even the company that you kept. Imagine a place or a time, where violent death could be meted out with such a frightening casualness. A time when life could be taken with the same unthinking ease as one might swat a wasp or a fly. If the reader can picture this nightmare scenario then it will be easy to understand that, for many thousands of people living in a part of the United Kingdom, this was a frequent occurrence. For many ordinary civilians, this was everyday life in Northern Ireland during the final three decades of the twentieth century.
In those dreadful times, violent death was a very real possibility; it was random, it came calling in many shapes and forms, in different places and at different times; but the one constant was that it was going to call. Imagine a world in which men and women would wake from their sleep, with but one thought: that of violent death uppermost in their minds. A world in which they, in good conscience, carried explosive devices to place under vehicles, or plant inside shops and pubs. These actions were carried out, in the full knowledge that the end result would be the termination of lives, young and old, or the shredding of limbs or torso, young as well as old.
Try to imagine shoppers walking blissfully and casually along city streets and markets; occasionally passing the ubiquitous waste bins. At places as diverse as the centre of Enniskillen, Victoria train station or in the centre of sleepy Warrington,1 fellow human beings chose these same receptacles in which to place deadly explosive devices; designed to kill and maim.
Try to imagine being an 81-year-old man, enjoying a pint of beer with your family, neighbours and friends; imagine your eyes rising from that cooling drink, possibly to share a joke with your companions, but instead, meeting the cold, steely gaze of a man with a deadly automatic weapon in his hand. That sudden, chilling realisation that the weapon was aimed at your body, as your heart begins to pound, your pulse races, as adrenaline attempts to force your inert body to react, to survive, to move.
Imagine a world in which police officers, legitimately going about their business, investigating break-ins or vandalism, even delivering a court summons, being cut down by snipers, or torn to pieces by hidden explosive devices. Imagine a soldier on routine patrol, meeting death in the same violent and unforgiving manner.
I have purposely used the word ‘imagine’ no fewer than eleven times in the past few paragraphs, because I want you, the reader, to put yourself in the body of a Catholic resident of Belfast or mid-Ulster; I want you to put yourself in the body of a Protestant in the Co. Fermanagh area or in Londonderry’s Fountains Estate. If you can do so, then you might understand life during the Northern Ireland Troubles between 1969 and 1998.
What follows are but a mere handful of the countless sectarian murders that were committed during The Troubles; murders that took place in pubs, in shops, at work and even while people were relaxing in the comfort of their homes. You will read stories of people who died while having a quiet drink, on a trip to pick up tasty seafood, out for an outing to watch a football match, or while turning up at their place of employment. Some of the murders took place as people prayed in their chosen places of worship. Each one of the aforementioned scenarios were actually the real-life scenes of sectarian and political murder; all were seemingly innocuous places that would become forever associated with violent death. These were not scenes from the cinema; this was real life.
In this book, I have added a brief description of the reported events for each testimony, to give the reader the background to the individual contributor’s account. The words that follow my factual description are their own words; their own individual but shared pain. Their words have not been cropped or censored, nor have they been chosen to fit my own narrative. Their pain is immense, but their resilience and courage is without comparison.
It is axiomatic that military historians must be passionate about their chosen subject, but they must always maintain a weather eye on neutrality. For argument’s sake, it would be almost impossible to debate or analyse Auschwitz, Dachau, Belsen or indeed any aspect of the Holocaust, without displaying at least some emotion. There must, however, be an element of academic neutrality, objectivity, possibly even a touch of what might be considered to be callous indifference. When writing about a highly emotive topic such as The Troubles, with the inextricably linked obscenity of sectarian murder, it has proven almost impossible not to suffuse one’s comments with condemnation, horror and an inevitable emotional involvement. Moreover, I find it exceedingly problematic to find any sort of ‘middle ground’ when discussing those turbulent years.
It is, quite correctly, a crime today – both legally and morally – in the western world to publicly claim that the murder of more than 6 million people by the Nazis is an untruth. Quite correctly these people are subject to legal and moral outrage as Holocaust deniers. I recognise and concede that there can be no comparison between the catastrophic loss of life in the Nazi death camps and the numbers killed during the Northern Ireland Troubles. However, this author believes that both moral and legal outrage should also be directed at those who are Troubles’ deniers, and to those who deny their role in them, whether it be from a lack of conscience or from political expedience.
Finally, picture a smoke-filled room in a dingy house in a hard-line Republican or Loyalist area; there are men and women seated around a table, planning to shatter someone’s idyllic life, for their own selfish objectives. Picture the conversation, as they outline their plans to kill a policeman or soldier, or even an ordinary civilian on the very fringes of Nationalism. As they plot murder, the countdown to the end of their intended victim’s life begins to tick, tick, tick away.
In closing, I must echo Melanie Anan’s disgust, that in both Northern Ireland and the Irish Republic, convicted and suspected terrorists hold positions of power and responsibility. With the slave-like adoration of their voters, this responsibility is not accompanied by their accountability, as they rewrite their versions of history without let or hindrance. The British Government and the devolved rulers of Northern Ireland indulge and encourage men and women who have committed terrorist acts, as one might indulge a spoiled child for the sake of harmony within the household. In this case, that household is the United Kingdom.
This is not a book for the easily offended; it is a book about the attempted destruction of family lives. It is a book showing how the paramilitaries attempted to destroy the future, and how the resilience of human nature defeated their attempts.
_________
1 On 20 March 1993, two no-warning PIRA bombs that detonated in one of Warrington’s main shopping areas – Bridge Street – killed Jonathan Ball (3) and Tim Parry (12); Bronwen Vickers (32) was dreadfully injured, losing both legs; she died twelve months later.
In the context of Northern Ireland, we are conditioned to believe that we must divide on religion, that we must divide on our position of the constitutional future of this place. Rather than focus on division, there is a greater power to building on those values which unify us.
Within this publication are contained the authentic voices of The Troubles, those who carry trauma and a searing pain of loss and injustice. But also, within their primary testimony can be found shoots of hope, a quiet yet steely determination never to allow terrorism and violence to triumph.
‘The Past’ is shorthand language which Government, the Churches and others have used in relaying what occurred over the period commonly referred to as The Troubles otherwise understood by vast swathes of the population as the ‘years of the terror campaign’. But for victims and survivors of Terrorism, ‘The Past’ is very much ‘Their Present’. Others may talk in the past tense, but for victims and survivors the sense of loss, the pain, the sense of injustice is a daily fixture of their lives.
An accord/public acknowledgement must be agreed and communicated by the UK and Republic of Ireland Governments and all terrorist organisations that the use of criminal violence in the furtherance of or defence of a ‘political’ objective was never justified.
SEFF War Widows Campaign, fighting for justice. (SEFF)
I view the actions of Republican or Loyalist terrorists and individual members of the security forces who broke the code and engaged in wanton acts of criminality in exactly the same light. None of that was legitimate and Justice, Truth and Accountability must prevail.
Were this public acknowledgement to happen then we would have a foundation stone from which to build. Whilst organisations or individuals remain in denial of this fundamental point, there remains a serious threat of history repeating itself and of a further generation reverting to the sins perpetrated by their forebears.
It is essential that in order to build genuine reconciliation that organisations and individuals must be prepared to submit to the 3 Rs: expressing Remorse for wrong words and deeds, showing genuine Repentance and then engaging in acts of Restitution. If our society were to follow this template, then we would all have a very different future ahead of us.
Those of us who live in and around this place have a vested interest in ensuring that the integrity of ‘The Past’ is preserved. We must resist pressure being exerted by ‘The Establishment’ to laud once terrorists who now assume the mantle of ‘Peacemakers’. Rather, we should reserve our humble praise and thanks for those who held the line against Terrorism and Anarchy; we must understand the heroes and martyrs of this Society to be those who rejected violence, those who refused to inflict harm upon their fellow neighbour, including those who have courageously contributed to this publication, in-so-doing entrusting the most intimate aspect of themselves with the author, Ken Wharton.
For too long shelves in our bookshops have been filled with autobiographies and other publications which feature the bleating of terrorists, their political annexes or others who portray themselves as being impartial academics or human rights campaigners. The core driver and net result of their contributions has been of seeking to romanticise terrorism and criminal violence, to rewrite history and to airbrush away responsibility from the chief protagonists of The Troubles – terrorist organisations and their personnel.
For a quarter of a century the political system has subverted the criminal justice system: early prisoner releases through the Belfast Agreement and there followed a maximum two-year sentence for pre-1998 Troubles related crimes (those committed in Northern Ireland anyway), protracted decommissioning which enabled terrorism to have armaments destroyed which held the evidential secrets to their heinous crimes.
Then there were the OTR Assurance letters which were a covert way of bypassing the expressed will of Parliament who would not back the Labour Government’s official efforts to finalise the issue in 2006. We have also had Royal Prerogatives of Mercy with ten years of records in the run up to the Belfast Agreement having magically disappeared – supposedly no back up copy of recipients exists.
The Blair Administration presided over the wanton appeasement of terrorism, believing that the ends justify the means at all costs, there was laid the foundation for the moral abyss to which our Society has fallen. Successive UK Governments since then have also sought to divide and conquer people by teasing them into accepting particular positions, conditioning them to believe that nothing better is possible. But is this the case, is what we have now really good enough? The death rate from terror related actions and other unrest has certainly dissipated since the 1998 Belfast/Good Friday Agreement but as the penultimate chapter within this publication illustrates, there were new victims/survivors created post that supposed milestone political settlement.
Above and opposite: SEFF memorial tapestries to remember the dead. (SEFF)
Aside from the threat of physical violence, the terror campaign is being fought through psychological terrorism and historical rewrite with the objective of cleansing the actions of perpetrators. Whether it’s terror memorials or communal public displays of memorialisation to individuals such as Seamus McElwaine, PIRA; Billy Wright, LVF; or those responsible for the Miami Showband attack, all are wrong and must cease. The daily glorification of violence and revisionism of our history is what hurts innocent victims and survivors most – but more so than that, it is a cancer which is of epidemic proportions across our Society, it must be meaningfully addressed and eradicated.
It has been South East Fermanagh Foundation’s privilege to work alongside the author in approaching individuals and families and securing their involvement in the project, as well as supporting them throughout the process. SEFF’s ethos is consistent with the overall message of this publication; that the violence was futile and was wrong and that ultimately it achieved nothing other than separating people, breaking trust and ravaging lives. Over 3,700 are dead as a result of The Troubles, and tens of thousands injured with the vast majority being innocent victims/survivors who did not go out with intent to harm their fellow neighbour.
Memorial quilt in honour of William Heenan, who was murdered at his farm by the IRA. (SEFF)
Approximately 60 per cent of those who died were murdered by Republican terrorist organisations, approximately 30 per cent of those who died were murdered by Loyalist terrorists and 10 per cent of those who died were caused by the UK State and its security forces with a small sub-section of the deaths caused through murder.
This publication is testament to the integrity and dignity which runs through the veins of innocent victims and survivors of The Troubles. Often these individuals are ordinary but in reality, they are quite extraordinary. Despite the horrific set of circumstances visited upon these individuals, they have not allowed themselves to become bitter, they are not consumed by hatred or vengeance but rather are committed to the future.
The legacy of terror and violence remains with them, and they will continue to carry that burden, and yes, many will continue to yearn for justice and accountability for the heinous and unjust actions which they were subjected to, in any democracy this should and must be afforded them. They will never forget the past, they will always honour those who were stolen away but they will not allow terrorism to dictate the future direction of their lives, and those of their families.
Enough is enough; this society needs to do better. As Ghandi once remarked: ‘The true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members.’ How would Ghandi view our society today?
Kenny DonaldsonDirector of ServicesSouth East Fermanagh Foundation (SEFF)
South East Fermanagh Foundation (SEFF) roots are in Lisnaskea, County Fermanagh, but the group now also has delivery offices in Rathfriland, Bessbrook, Newtownstewart, Lisburn and London (serving GB-based victims & survivors) and we also provide outreach support to victims/survivors based in Republic of Ireland.
Our ethos is clear: that in the context of ‘The Northern Ireland Troubles’ there was and never will be justification for terrorism and other Troubles-related criminal violence – irrespective of who carried it out. All criminal violence was wrong and unjustified.
We are proud to offer the following support services for victims, survivors and their families:
Advocacy
Befriending and SEFF calling services
Border Trails Project
Counselling
Complementary Therapies
Health and Wellbeing Caseworker’s Service (Individual Needs Programme)
International-based programmes and partnerships with groups based in Spain, US and Rwanda
Social-based programmes
Welfare and Benefits Service including tribunal representation
Support with The Troubles Permanent Disablement Scheme (aka The Victims Pension)
Youth and Transgenerational programmes
Campaigning and lobbying on victim/survivor issues
In addition to the above, SEFF is also involved in a range of community outreach initiatives designed to best facilitate a confident, thriving local community:
Community Allotments
Ulster Scots Summer Schools
Festival events
Outreach work with the Churches and Schools
Cultural and good relations themed programmes
Responding to Public consultations concerning the local district
North-South and East-West orientated Projects and link ups.
‘Religion and Politics have the potential to divide, it’s our Values that Unite us’
South East Fermanagh Foundation
1 Manderwood Park,
1 Nutfield Road,
Lisnaskea,
County Fermanagh.
BT92 0FP
Tel: 028 6772 3884
Email: [email protected]
Website: www.seff.org.uk
Facebook: SEFF Victims and Survivors
Twitter: @SEFFLisnaskea
Security Forces
PSNI
Police Service Northern Ireland
RUC
Royal Ulster Constabulary
RUCR
Royal Ulster Constabulary Reserve
UDR
Ulster Defence Regiment (integral part of the British Army)
Republicans
IRA/PIRA
Both refer to the Provisional Irish Republican Army
CIRA
Continuity Irish Republican Army
INLA
Irish National Liberation Army
IPLO
Irish People’s Liberation Organisation
IRSP
Political wing of the IPLO
OIRA
Official Irish Republican Army
RIRA
Real Irish Republican Army
Loyalists
UDA
Ulster Defence Association (Loyalist Paramilitary)
UFF
Ulster Freedom Fighters (Paramilitary wing of UDA)
UVF
Ulster Volunteer Force (Loyalist Paramilitary)
LVF
Loyalist Volunteer Force (Loyalist Paramilitary)
Other Abbreviations
HET
Historical Enquiries team
NIO
Northern Ireland Office
Brian Masters, the biographer of serial killer Dennis Nielsen, wrote: ‘Judge and jury (will) deal with the matter of guilt, while the writer must deal with matters of interpretation and accuracy.’1 I took his words very much to heart, trying to follow these ‘guidelines’ when I was writing this book. I must confess that my earlier books were written with unavoidable, but deliberate, emotion; with a deep sense of anger at the people who had committed unspeakable acts of terror. However, my passion in supporting the forces of law and order, and my profound empathy for the loss of innocence among ordinary Catholic and Protestant civilians, will remain very obvious.
This book – in spite of the emotionally volatile nature of its subject – is written more dispassionately than previously, with emotive words such as evil, cowardly, cunning and back-stabbing having no place in the narrative. Difficult task though it was, I have tried to keep my opinion to that of the neutral observer. My stated objective was for balance, seeking to give equal space to the victims of Loyalist terror, as much as I gave to those who suffered at the hands of Republicans. I failed relatively to achieve this desired equilibrium for various reasons: my reputation for being a former soldier who wrote from a soldier’s perspective preceded me. My undisguised contempt for the Provisional IRA/INLA, and seeing only the security force viewpoint was/is held against me. I failed also because I wasn’t able to gain the trust of the Catholic/Nationalist communities, certainly not to the same extent that I have trust from their Protestant/Loyalist counterparts. And I failed because several victims of Loyalist paramilitaries retracted their statements because of family pressure, or because they had been advised by Nationalist politicians not to co-operate.
I have told the stories of those brave enough to tell them to me. I would have dearly liked to have told more of the accounts of those who suffered at the hands of Loyalist paramilitary gangs.
_________
1Killing for Company (Arrow Books, 1985) revised Foreword, 2020.
‘Only the dead have seen the end of war.’ The most biting of all anti-war sentiments is often wrongly attributed to Plato, sometimes to other writers, but it is my belief that the words are more likely to have been those of George Santayana.1 In Northern Ireland the phrase took on a distinctively sordid aspect, as people died for the most spurious of reasons, in the most squalid of circumstances. There is much of what went on in The Troubles that is still unknown; what tore the country apart over three decades is hidden to an uncomprehending and largely uncaring world. There is also much of what happened that is still nestling under the carpet, swept there by both the British and Irish Governments. In this task, they were capably assisted with alacrity by Sinn Fein, together with the great enthusiasm of their Loyalist paramilitary counterparts. This post-Troubles co-operation illustrates the need for a bloody large carpet under which to sweep the secrets of The Troubles.
It is the continuing legacy of grief for those whose loved ones were cruelly forced into premature graves. Go tell those who were condemned to painful and debilitating existences by ruthless people and organisations that their grief is merely ‘a step along the road’. The boutique terror organisations – both the recrudesced as well as the tailor-made – considered the spilling of blood as but a cheap price to pay. Any outrage, any expedient, in their pursuit of the impossible was to them a price worth paying. Their currency was blood, just as long as it was someone else’s blood. To the innocents who were killed in the lawful and morally correct pursuance of their everyday lives, they were the sacrificial lambs. To the brave, dedicated upholders of law and order, it was death rather than community respect that was to be their reward. Finally, to the children, ripped from the innocence and purity of their young lives, it was the end of their dreams and hopes. It may well be said, in this fledgling country, still a mere century old, that their citizens truly understand the statement that ‘only the dead have seen the end of war’.
It was originally intended that this book would deal separately with the victims of Republican terror and of Loyalist terror. However, to have done so would be to perpetuate sectarianism beyond the grave; it would discredit the victims’ memories and their monuments. Moreover, I will not segregate the victims in this book, as they have been done in Milltown Cemetery in Belfast or in burial plots the length and breadth of Ulster. The civilian, military and police dead will have their stories told together; this book will eulogise the Catholic alongside the Protestant.
It will bring together those who suffer now, and indeed will suffer for all of their lives; it will unite in grief all who lost someone, quite regardless of the church at which they pray. These are the words of the victims of terror. Their words will be treated with empathy and support; criticism will only be applied to the perpetrators of terror and to those who seek to justify and apologise for them. It will fully expose both the Republican and the Loyalist paramilitaries as they separately promote their false narratives in seeking to rewrite the history of The Troubles.
It will pull no punches about the obscene nature of sectarian murder, nor will it sugar coat or excuse the perverse logic, that killing an off-duty soldier or police officer could advance the cause of a united Ireland. Conversely, it will expose the perversion of those who killed innocent taxi drivers solely in the cause of keeping Northern Ireland inside the United Kingdom. The writer of this book holds the same opprobrium for both Loyalist and Republican murder gangs. In addition to challenging their false narratives, I will condemn the killers on both sides of the sectarian divide; I will also challenge those who seek to justify, and even glorify, these heinous crimes.
This author feels a deep abhorrence that the paramilitaries of both sides can so easily dismiss the dead in the blasé manner that characterises their claim of legitimacy. There is something quite immoral in finding justification in each and every terrible crime that they have committed; there are insufficient words in the English language to truly describe their behaviour. To the Republicans of Sinn Fein, each bombing, each shooting, each death and each maiming was a mere sacrifice to the cause. It contributed to the bigger strategy of driving the British into the sea, thus reuniting the island of Ireland.
Sinn Fein have consistently claimed to be the ‘political’ wing of the Provisional IRA and have persistently maintained that there is a separation between the two arms. This author is unable to detect any evidence of this claim, indeed he finds the two synonymous, or in the words of the idiom: two sides of the same coin. One former soldier told the author in a private interview: ‘You couldn’t get a thin sheet of paper between the two of them.’ Sinn Fein are well practised in the art of distancing themselves from the bombings and the shootings, while at the same time, performing an almost contortioned body swerve as they refuse to condemn the same activities.
The same lack of separation is also very obvious between the UDA and the UFF; they are manifestly synonymous. Moreover, many of both the UDA and Sinn Fein’s leading lights are the very terrorists who perpetuated the same terror over three decades. Republicans claim the moral high ground by drawing on two clauses of the freshly written Irish Constitution of 1921 to legitimise and morally justify their war of terror. It is indeed disturbing that paramilitaries, of both sides, are able to self-canonise their campaigns of misery; their insouciance beggars belief.
Nor must it be overlooked that the leaders of the Loyalist factions, hiding behind the Union flag, displayed the same callous lack of regret, providing a self-righteous justification for the murders of innocent Catholic civilians. Their consciences were apparently clear, as they claimed each and every sectarian murder as being an attack on a ‘legitimate target’. The Loyalist raison d’être was plain: each death would help to punish the Catholics and turn them against the Republican paramilitaries. Every atrocity committed by the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF), Ulster Freedom Fighters (UFF), Red hand Commandos and Loyalist Volunteer Force (LVF) was a self-serving justification, the price of staying an integral part of the United Kingdom. The accusation of insouciance applies equally to them. Both the Loyalists and the Republican terror groups performed a psychopathic pas de deux as they claimed to be the defenders of their respective communities.
Thousands of innocents received a life sentence at the hands of the terrorists; these are their stories.
_________
1 It appears in his 1922 book Soliloquies in England, and Later Soliloquies, where he wrote: ‘Only the dead are safe; only the dead have seen the end of war.’
Aileen Quinton
Alan McCullough
Alan Irwin
Alex Gore
Amanda Gore
Andrea Brown
Anita Haughey
Anthony
Austin Stack
Berry Reaney
Bryan Walker
Carol Richards
Cecil Wilson
Charlie Butler
Cheryl Patton
Claire Monteith
Craig Agar
Darren Ware
David Kerrigan
Irene Kerrigan
David Temple
Dennis Maguire
Desmond Ross
Dianne Woods
Ed O’Neill
George Larmour
George McNally
Geraldine Ferguson
Ian Millar
Ivy Lambert
Jillian Burns
Julie Tipping
Lynn Anderson
Kate Carroll
Kay Burns
Ken Funston
Kevin Wright
Laura Burns
Laura Hamilton
Liam
Linda McHugh
Lucinda Thompson
Mark Olphert
Mark Rodgers
Martyn McCready
Mary Hull
Mary McCurrie
Michelle Williamson
Maureen Norton
Neil Tattershall
Noel Downey
Peter Heathwood
Phyllis Brett
Roberta McNally
Ronnie Porter
Ruth Forrest
Ruth Patterson
Sammy Brush
Serena Hamilton
Sylvia Porter
Tracey Magill
Tracy Abraham
Trevor Loughlin
Yvonne Black
And the three others who were unable for reasons of expediency to give me their real names.
To Kenny Donaldson and the good offices of SEFF.
The patience of The History Press.
The technical excellence of Stephen Wilson.
I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but I was pretty relaxed, as one bomb had gone off previously and we didn’t expect another. I think we all just thought that for security reasons, we would be sent home from work. What we didn’t know was that the second bomb was just behind us, around 4ft away in fact, close to the wall on which we were sitting.
I jumped down off the wall on to the grass verge, then it happened. There was a huge blast and instantly, my hearing was gone and for about three minutes, I was deaf. I just felt a thump in my back, but it didn’t hurt, but I do remember the split second that it happened, a terrible thought flashed into my mind: ‘I am not going to see my unborn child; she is never going to know who her dad is.’ I felt incredibly sad. I can’t remember if there was smoke and I can’t remember any specific smells, just a massive boom, the like of which, I had never experienced in my life.
Then I remember seeing people running, and I decided to join them, but my legs were locked, frozen solid and I couldn’t move.
_________
1 From an interview with the author.
For many people in Northern Ireland, 14 August 1969 was the beginning of a three-decade-long nightmare. To those who yearned for an independent and united island of Ireland, it was possibly 3 May 1921 that their own personal and political nightmare began. That was the date on which Irish Partition – críochdheighilt na hÉireann – became a reality. However, for the loved ones of John Patrick Scullion, a 28-year-old storeman from the Clonard district of Belfast, 14 August 1969 was anything but their ‘hour zero’. For his grieving loved ones, their blackness began even earlier that summer day in 1969; indeed, it was even earlier: on Saturday, 11 June 1966 to be precise. The young man was shot several times, from a passing car, inside of which were three members of Gusty Spence’s reformed Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF). John was attacked outside his aunt’s home in Oranmore Street; it was the first sectarian murder of modern Northern Ireland. It was to herald several thousand more deaths – committed by the paramilitaries from both sides of the sectarian abyss – in which the victim’s religion was the main determinant in the ending of their life.
The main proponents of sectarian murder were the aforementioned UVF, with other Loyalist organisations such as the Ulster Freedom Fighters (UFF), the Red Hand Commandos, and Loyalist Volunteer Force (LVF). On the Republican side, piously laying claim to the ‘non-sectarian’1 soubriquet, there was – post-1969 – the Provisional Irish Republican Army (PIRA); additionally there was the Irish National Liberation Army (INLA) and the later upstart, albeit short-lived, Irish People’s Liberation Organisation (IPLO). It is worth pointing out here that the Republican paramilitary groups seemed to be an evolving system of dissension among both their own rank and file, as well as their leadership; an endless round of division. They split, reformed and regrouped, but took meticulous care in taking all of their grudges and vendettas to their new organisations. The reader might well research Gerard ‘Dr Death’ Steenson, whose terrorist curriculum vitae bore the initials of OIRA, INLA and the IPLO. There was, however, one constant, and that was the Provisional IRA; this organisation overcame the internecine warfare, remaining largely intact until the bitter end, and beyond.
The paramilitary forces had but one significant goal apiece. For the Republicans, it was to drive the British into the Irish Sea; for the Loyalists, it was to show their allegiance to the British Crown, while demonstrating their determination to remain part of the United Kingdom. Between the two sides, there was a huge gulf, an abyss even; tragically, there was never any attempt to bridge that deepening rift, as each side sought to out-do each other in vile and morbid atrocities.
The following is not intended to be either a definitive or exhaustive analysis of either side; it is merely a ‘pen picture’ to set the stage for the testimonies that follow.
The Irish Republican Army (referred to throughout this book as IRA, PIRA, Provisional IRA or the Provisionals) was formed in 1919. It was created as a successor to the Irish Volunteers (IV), itself only formed in 1913, to continue resistance to Ireland’s participation in the United Kingdom, or ‘British rule’. Its role was to continue the Irish Republican Brotherhood’s campaign of revolutionary warfare. The IRB proclaimed an ‘Irish Republic’ during the Easter Rising of 24 April 1916. The initial rebellious manifestation of this took place when the IRB’s Military Council seized control of the GPO building in Dublin, aided by the IV, along with the smaller ‘Citizen Army’ and 200 women of Cumann na mBan: the female section.
During the Irish War of Independence (also referred to as the Anglo-Irish War of 1919–21), under the leadership of Michael Collins, the IRA carried out classic guerrilla warfare employing ambushes, hit and run raids, as well as political assassination, to force the British Government of David Lloyd George to the negotiating table. The war ended on 3 May 1921, with Ireland being granted Dominion status within the British Commonwealth – it eventually left in 1949 – and the partition of the country into the Irish Free State, which consisted of twenty-six counties under Dublin, and Northern Ireland, made up of the remaining six counties, under the leadership of Belfast.
Partition proved unacceptable to many members of the IRA, which then split into two opposing organisations: the Pro-Treaty faction under Collins, and the Anti-Treaty group led by an Irish-American, Eamon de Valera. Thus followed the Irish Civil War, which ultimately resulted in the defeat of the old IRA, heralding de Valera’s departure and entry into the respectable world of Irish politics under the flag of Fianna Fáil. The defeated organisation, however, refused to surrender their arms and explosives, vowing to continue the fight to bring back the six counties of Northern Ireland into the Irish Free State.
Their campaign of insurrection continued from 1923 onwards, with peaks and troughs of activity, although it had become largely dormant by the late 1960s. However, the continued rioting, sectarian attacks and civil disobedience that led to The Troubles finally forced the IRA to reform and, in their parlance, step back into the breach. It initially declared its intention to be merely a Catholic defence force, with the respective religious communities already in an irretrievable state of polarisation by the summer of 1969. Shortly afterwards, it became more militarised, and certainly more proactive than it had been for a decade and more. It sought to take the fight to the Army and the RUC, while laying claim to the title of defenders of the Catholic communities. Even in these early stages, the inevitable signs of dissent were showing and in December 1969, following months of internal strife, the organisation split into two factions: the Official IRA (OIRA) under Cathal Goulding, and the Provisional IRA (PIRA) under Seán Mac Stíofáin. The latter faction attracted the likes of Gerry Adams, Martin McGuinness and Brendan ‘Darkie’ Hughes.
Following several years of conflict, which alternated between messy, internecine warfare and both sides simultaneously attacking the security forces, the OIRA went into decline in mid-1972; it became largely irrelevant thereafter. PIRA drew its moral ethos from Articles Two and Three of the Irish Constitution, which signalled the Republic’s intention to bring the North under the authority of Dublin. By 1972 the Provisionals had won their battle against the OIRA and would now turn their attention to a campaign for the reunification of Ireland. To this day, Nationalists still refer to Northern Ireland as ‘the north of Ireland’. They cannot accept Partition and this has been their raison d’être for over a century.
PIRA set out their campaign strategy very early on, and that was to sicken and intimidate the British public. They reasoned that this would lead to civilian pressure on the Government to withdraw from Northern Ireland. PIRA’s rationale was that if they killed enough soldiers and police officers, the bloody attrition rate would somehow undermine the morale on the mainland sufficiently enough that the Prime Minister of the day would seriously contemplate pulling out of Northern Ireland. The bombing campaign from 1970 onwards was aimed at deconstructing the Northern Ireland economy, taking it back to the Stone Age and thus rendering the country ungovernable. Conversely, the shooting campaign was aimed at disgusting the English populace. Both tactics almost worked, as in time a resigned state of war-weariness began to fester amongst the British; indeed there was a very palpable feeling of ‘let them get on with it; let them kill themselves, rather than our soldiers’.
Left-wing organisations such as ‘Troops Out’ and ‘Oliver’s Army’ began to agitate among the working classes and their political representatives in HM’s Loyal Opposition. For many years of The Troubles, notably 1970–74 and 1979–97, it was the Labour Party that held this position. This meant that the Left had a home, as well as a voice, for their campaigns to support the Provisionals in their objective of forcing a ‘withdrawal’ from the island of Ireland. Left-wing publications such as Militant and Red Mole consistently ran editorials and articles that were designed to undermine the morale of the soldiers on the streets, as well as recruit like-minded workers to their ideal of a socialist future. Indeed, in 1972, Red Mole, the mouthpiece of the International Marxist Group (IMG), ran a full front page showing the former Beatle John Lennon displaying a poster that stated ‘For the IRA Against the British Empire’. Another front page showed solidarity for the Provisional IRA under a headline of ‘IRA: We Will Stand and We Fight’. Sinn Fein, the political wing of the Provisionals, concentrated much effort on undermining the security forces on the streets of Ulster, sowing the seeds of both confusion and dissension. The Left’s unswerving commitment to the IRA was remarkably well illustrated following the M62 coach bombing in which soldiers as well as civilian children were killed, IMG member Guy Redmond2 told this author in a heated conversation at the University of Warwick: ‘I rejoice in the deaths of those soldiers.’
The IRA’s Army Council knew that they could only win the ‘long war’ if they not only defeated the British Army militarily but also ensured that troops returning from tours of duty received no emotional or moral support. To achieve this, they capitalised on their ties to British trade unions, student unions, the Labour Party’s grass roots and a hodgepodge of left-wing organisations. Sinn Fein targeted disparate groups such as the Socialist Labour Party and the International Marxist Group, as well as the proscribed Labour Party Young Socialist’s sub group, Militant. It is arguable that Sinn Fein achieved the coup of undermining its enemies via its very own Trojan horse of the British Left.
There was to be no triumphal processions as Operation Banner personnel returned home on leave following a four-month emergency tour. When this tactic produced only moderate results, there was to be another tactic: bombing the mainland. Their rationale was that a bomb in London was, in the words of the old IRA maxim, ‘worth twenty in Belfast’. They purposely avoided their Celtic cousins in Scotland and Wales, concentrating on England, their main target being London, the recognised centre of the British Crown. Nowhere was really immune in England, as attacks in Lichfield, Derby, Bradford, Manchester, Warrington and other places attest. To the ‘England Team’ was added the European ASU (Active Service Unit), which was responsible for the deaths of both British military personnel as well as civilians in Belgium, the Netherlands and West Germany.
Back on the streets and in rural areas of Northern Ireland, PIRA, INLA and the IPLO continued to kill soldiers and police officers in their military campaigns. They began to target off-duty personnel in their homes, in pubs, in shopping centres as well as going to and from their places of work. Their aim was two-fold: as well as the undermining of security force morale, they attempted to dissuade both Protestants and Catholics from enlisting as either full-time or part-time members. They then turned their attention to members of the Judiciary, whom they saw as ‘agents of the Crown Forces’, killing six as well as wounding two more. They also targeted prison officers, killing thirty – Loyalists killed a number of these HMP staff – generally at their homes or between home and work. Despite being avowedly non-sectarian, it is quite clear that this was a hollow abrogation of the truth. This author has produced numerous examples of their overtly sectarian attacks in volumes passim. The Provisionals have always argued that the death of census worker Joanne Mathers in 1981 in Londonderry’s Gobnascale was ‘military’ but the fact that she was a Protestant is further evidence to this author at least, that it was deliberately sectarian.
The Protestant paramilitaries operated under the common banner of ‘no surrender’, and while it applies emotionally to the historical battles of 1690, at Londonderry, Aughrim, Enniskillen and the Boyne, it could be said that it applies equally to the modern idiom of ‘no surrender to the IRA’. Protestants have long held the siege mentality, feeling that their country was being undermined by the Roman Catholic Church. They have long felt that in the post-Partition period, the Catholic community inside Northern Ireland has developed into a ‘fifth column’ of collaborators, seeking to undermine the fledgling state from within. How accurate this viewpoint was is, of course, open to interpretation. Certainly, some instances of positive discrimination towards Catholics, particularly in relation to the staffing of the Civil Service and Catholic insistence on a separate religious education system have done nothing to assuage the fears of the Protestant community. There are also the questions that the civil rights associations posed about workplace discrimination and sectarian bullying; they demanded that this be ended. Instead of helping, this agitation simply widened the gap between Protestant and Catholic. By the mid- to late 1960s, The Troubles were a catastrophe waiting to happen.
The Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF), as we will see later, had its origins in the early part of the twentieth century, formed as part-defence force and part-resistance to the growing clamour for Irish Home Rule. It also served with courageous distinction in the carnage that was France and Belgium in 1914–18. It had only a minor presence post-Partition after 1921, because of its extremely high fatality rates suffered during the Great War; it was never as numerically strong thereafter. In 1966, under the leadership of the aforementioned Gusty Spence, it commenced its dark art of sectarian murder. On 7 April of that year, a UVF gang fire-bombed the Holy Cross Girls School in Belfast, simply on the grounds that the Ulster Government had scheduled a Protestant–Catholic reconciliation conference the next day. Two months later, the same Loyalist group fire-bombed a Catholic pub in Belfast’s Upper Charleville Street; the resulting blaze spread into a neighbouring house, killing Matilda Gould (77), a Catholic widow.
Following the school attack, the UVF made the following statement:
From this day, we declare war against the Irish Republican Army and its splinter groups. Known IRA men will be executed mercilessly and without hesitation. Less extreme measures will be taken against anyone sheltering or helping them, but if they persist in giving them aid, then more extreme methods will be adopted. We solemnly warn the authorities to make no more speeches of appeasement. We are heavily armed Protestants dedicated to this cause.
Loyalist paramilitaries were responsible for over 900 deaths in The Troubles. The vast majority of killings by the Loyalists were overtly sectarian in nature, but they also killed fellow Protestants; indeed, after 1994, they killed an increasing number of members of their own community. In the lead-up to the Belfast Good Friday Agreement and beyond there was much score-settling as well as an eruption of internecine feuds between the various rival gangs.
Among the worst Loyalist sectarian attacks of the 1969–98 Troubles were the bombing of McGurk’s Bar in 1971, which killed fifteen people, and the Miami Showband massacre in 1976, in which several musicians were murdered in cold blood. Two members of the band were Protestants, and so there is much speculation that they combined a sectarian attack with what they probably equally viewed as a military strike. The fact that two serving members of the Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR) were killed when they planted the bomb does little to dispel the accusations of collusion between the security forces and the paramilitaries that were raised shortly afterwards. Two of those subsequently arrested for the murders were also found to have been members of the same UDR unit. The UVF were also responsible for the Dublin and Monaghan bombings in 1974, which took the lives of thirty-four people.
The Ulster Defence Association (UDA) was formed in September 1971, with The Troubles already two years old. It was created as an umbrella organisation for several paramilitary groupings, including the Ulster Freedom Fighters (UFF), which was tasked to carry out its ‘military campaign’. It was responsible for around 400 deaths, again, almost exclusively sectarian. It carried out some of the worst atrocities of The Troubles, which included a mass shooting of Catholics at Castlerock in March 1993 and the Greysteel massacre in October the same year.
Such was the carnage created by the UFF, Edward Heath’s vacillating Government were forced to proscribe them, having dithered for almost two years. The UDA itself, somewhat incomprehensibly, were not proscribed until John Major finally took action against them in August 1992.
The various Loyalist groupings – UVF, UFF, LVF and the rest – claimed that their attacks on the Catholic communities were aimed at that modern idiomatic obscenity, the ‘legitimate target’. Their oft-repeated pronouncements of attacking Republican paramilitaries or their auxiliaries had worn extremely thin by the third decade of The Troubles. Invariably their claims that they were acting on ‘high-grade intelligence’ were undoubtedly mendacious, as though seeking to legitimise and exonerate their sectarianism.
A new term sprang up in the 1980s in the lexicon of the Troubles: Pan-nationalist alliance. It was a catch-all that was to encapsulate the real, as well as the supposed, enemies of Ulster. Republican paramilitaries and Sinn Fein members were naturally considered as targets, but it could also embrace the likes of people who volunteered to deliver Sinn Fein election material, those who agitated for the Irish language campaign and even members of the GAA, the Gaelic Athletic Association. Loyalist paramilitaries even went so far as to murder Gaelic footballers and members of Hurling clubs among others whom they perceived to be part of this ‘Alliance’.
From being ‘defenders’ of the Protestant communities at places such as Woodvale in West Belfast – initially known as the Woodvale Defence Association – Loyalist paramilitaries extended their role from defence to attack. The early days saw them don mock-military uniform, armed with shields and staves, mimicking the legitimate soldiers patrolling the streets of the Shankill, Woodvale, Crumlin Road and Tiger’s Bay. Their apologists attempted to put a positive yet inaccurate spin on the spectacle, reporting that the UDA was ‘patrolling in conjunction’ with the British Army. Photographs appearing in the Belfast Telegraph showed young boys copying their adults, complete with uniform and dark glasses. The UFF took to using military ranks, some as grandiose as ‘brigadier’ replicating the IRA’s use of companies, battalions and brigades.
More often than not, it was a case of ‘any Taig will do’ or the obscenity of the UFF tactic ‘dial a Catholic’, which is covered in greater detail in this book. Robin ‘the Jackal’ Jackson, leader of the UVF’s mid-Ulster brigade, allegedly slaughtered upwards of 100 mainly innocent Catholics in the notorious ‘murder triangle’ of Co. Armagh and Co. Tyrone. UFF attacks on three betting shops in Belfast were unmistakably sectarian, designed to kill and maim Catholics and nothing more. It was simply indiscriminate murder, based on their victims’ choice of worship. On the rare occasions that they tried to justify this campaign of sectarian murder, they offered the weakest of explanations. They rationalised the killing of Catholics as ‘punishment’ for their perceived support of the Provisional IRA, or other Republican paramilitaries. These types of Loyalist arguments were centred on the ‘wall of silence’ that Catholic residents put up when being questioned by the security forces about paramilitary incidents. They also claimed that PIRA/INLA had a ready-made network of safe houses in every Nationalist area to conceal and comfort gunmen and bombers. Perhaps the Loyalist leadership conveniently overlooked the fact that they operated a mirror-like system themselves.
It is clear that they felt the Provisionals would surely recognise that their campaign for reunification was dead, given the growing number of Catholic victims filling the cemeteries of the land. If the Republicans persisted in their campaign of violence, even more Catholics would be cut down in cold blood. Then there was the nonsense of tit-for-tat killings, of which, in truth, both sides were equally culpable. The IRA killed a Protestant – soldier, policeman or civilian – and the UVF/UFF would kill a Catholic – generally a civilian – in apparent retaliation. However, after a while, it was simply an excuse, and irrespective of the provocation, killings were generally planned in advance. Moreover, given the plethora of sectarian murders, who knew which side was retaliating against the other and who had instigated the deadly cycle? Chicken and egg syndrome perhaps?
The Loyalists also claimed, somewhat lamely, that they acted upon what they termed ‘high-grade’ intelligence from military sources, intimating that there was collusion with the security forces. This style of ‘teasing’ strengthened and accentuated the Republican claim of frequent plotting between the Army/RUC, and their ‘agents’ inside the paramilitaries. One tragically illustrative example was the murder of chemist worker Philomena Hanna (26) from the New Barnsley area of West Belfast on 28 April 1992. Johnny Adair of the UFF’s ‘C’ Company in the Shankill allegedly ordered Steven McKeag to the Springfield Road to shoot her. This he duly did, killing a wonderful and compassionate human being on the mistaken grounds that she was a sister of a PIRA intelligence officer.3 Sectarian murders such as this were sadly repeated far too often.
Almost thirty sectarian murders were carried out between 1975 and 1982 by UVF member Lenny Murphy in tandem with the notorious ‘Shankill Butchers’. This random savagery illustrates the fickle nature of sectarian murder, without even the pretence of claiming killings as political or military. The gang would target late-night drinkers, walking in or around sectarian interfaces, reasoning that if they were walking towards the New Lodge or other Catholic areas, then ipso facto, they were Catholics. They would be hit with a blunt instrument – often a hammer – before being thrown in the back of a taxi belonging to a gang member. Once inside, their victim’s fate was sealed, with there being only one documented survivor of one of their attacks. Once pinioned in the rear passenger footwell, they were beaten and stabbed, before being taken to a place of torture and, finally, violent death.
Many of the murders were based on the mere capriciousness of Loyalist leaders. Reportedly, on one occasion, UFF Commander Johnny Adair was drinking heavily with gang members in a club on the Shankill. Suddenly, one suggested, seemingly in jest: ‘Let’s bang a Taig.’4 Adair allegedly immediately ordered his team to carry out a random murder. Several members drove to Rosapenna Court, in the nearby Nationalist Oldpark Road area. Sean Rafferty (44), an innocent Catholic, was sitting in his lounge with his wife and their five children. The killers kicked open the door, bursting into his lounge and immediately shooting him dead, before returning in triumph to Adair. In less than thirty minutes they had apparently decided on a killing, killed an innocent man and were back in the club finishing their drinks.
Both sets of paramilitaries posed a similar threat: they would strike without warning, often when it was least expected. There was only one thing predictable about their actions: that they would end in bloodshed and misery. The Loyalist groups posed a constant and very real threat among the Catholics, particularly in the sectarian interfaces, but also to those brave enough to live in a fairly mixed area. Conversely, it must also be said that the Protestant communities faced the very same feelings of anxiety, especially in the homes of members of the security forces, but especially more so in the remote rural areas of the border in Co. Fermanagh and Co. Tyrone. One salient difference was in the timings of these ‘operations’. The Provisional IRA tended to be more meticulous in their planning, often spending weeks or even months in putting together either bombing attacks or targeted assassinations, while the Loyalist approach tended to be more spontaneous. The murder of Sean Rafferty in April 1991 (referred to later in this chapter) was a chilling example of this spontaneity. An RUC spokesman described it as: ‘a naked sectarian killing.’ It was a capricious and purely spur-of-the-moment attack.
Let us look first of all at the latter part of my statement about location; the Provisionals had long felt that the border area ‘belonged’ to them. In the mid-1970s, they launched a quite deliberate and cynical plan to de-populate the Protestant communities living and working there. Their plan involved a very real element of ‘ethnic cleansing’, but it was two-pronged: they also wished to make the area inoperable for the security forces. It was to be a no-go zone, controlled by their modern ‘flying columns’.5 This concept was the brainchild of senior Provos Jim Lynagh and Padraig McKearney, both later killed in an SAS ambush at Loughgall on 8 May 1987. By the creation of this buffer zone, the Provisionals would be able to move arms, explosives and personnel unhindered by either the Army or the RUC. By killing off many Protestant family heads, they attempted to sever their genetic lines, as well as forcing them to move to safer areas in the country’s industrial and commercial interior. As the bulk of the victims of this ethnic cleansing were farmers, the IRA’s tactics would ensure that the abandoned farmland was likely to be taken over by Catholics.