1983 escape IRIS
24/07/2008
15:00
Page 29
IRIS
THE GREATEST ESCAPE
dragged us up the steps and threw us into the cells.
no cover, the field was like a snooker table. There was a river running beside it and as we were about to cross it a helicopter flew by. We got into the water and hid under the bank. Very soon RUC, military police and screws came running along the far bank looking for us. We could hear them mentioning our names. Eventually, we were spotted and told to come out. As I emerged, one of the RUC officers fired a shot. ‘We’re unarmed, you bastard,” I shouted. I was looking right at him from about nine feet and I saw at once that he wasn’t operating on all batteries. His mate turned around and told him to cool down. I reckon the only reason they all didn’t open up was that there was too much of a mixture screws, RUC and military police - they couldn’t trust each other not to open their mouths sometime.
G
ary Roberts made his way on foot outside the inner ring of roadblocks and search parties near the jail. For a few hours he lay concealed in the countryside, then tried to make his way to Belfast. It was a foggy night and he hoped that would help him avoid capture. But as he crossed a field, a British Army patrol emerged from the darkness and spotted him. Gary was handed over to the RUC at a nearby roadblock. He was badly beaten by them and again by screws when he returned to the jail. Bik McFarlane was among a large group who ran towards one farmhouse:
BOBBY STOREY:
BIK McFARLANE:
Subsequently, the four of us – myself, Peter, Joe and Seán – were put on the ground beside the river. They stripped us, cuffed our hands behind our backs and kicked and punched us. We were frogmarched to a nearby bridge and beaten as we went. There I was spread-eagled against the bridge railings and questioned. When I remained silent, I had my eye split open with a blow from a gun. A military police officer placed the muzzle of his machine gun between my legs and repeatedly pulled it up sharply into my genitals, trying to rip me open. Beside me, the others were being beaten. Joe’s head was busted open and bleeding heavily. A jeep arrived to take us back to the jail and any hopes I had for a temporary respite were soon dashed when RUC officers alighted whopping and yelling abuse at us. In the jeep, one RUC officer held me against its side with a rifle to my neck as another, in a frenzy, was hitting me with his rifle. At one point, he pulled the trigger by accident. It clicked – obviously the breech was empty. The rifle had been pointed at another RUC officer and they began to argue, grappling with each other. The jeep stopped at the main gate and they kicked me out into a mob of screws. Some of them tried to get me over to the car park, while others tried to pull me back into the jail. I was eventually pulled into the jail through the pedestrian gate. The mob was locked out and I was along with four or five screws. They attacked me, one of them using a baton. They were getting in
I bounded over a fence and turned left towards a main road, when suddenly a blue car trundled out of a farm laneway. There were twelve of the lads jammed into it. Spanner Campbell was behind the wheel and I saw Goose Russell with both legs hanging out the door. Spanner slowed to let me in and someone from the tangle of bodies shouted, “Come on Bik, get in!” There was no way that car would have restarted if Spanner stopped and there was simply no room. So I told him to drive on. Someone else shouted back that there was another car up in the farmyard. I raced up the laneway to discover a Volkswagen van and a large Mercedes saloon. I couldn’t believe my luck. Gerry ‘Blute’ McDonnell had arrived in front of me and we rushed into the farmhouse demanding the keys of the car. A young lad handed them over and we jumped into the Mercedes. By now, eight others were in the yard. Marcus Murray and Marty McManus opted for the vans while into the car with us piled the other six - Séamus McElwaine, Jim Clarke, Terry Kirby, Paul Brennan, Tony McAllister and Dermot ‘Oda’ McNally.
each other’s way, so two held my arms against a wire fence while a third methodically punched my ribs. I was then dragged through the tally lodge and into the van pool. It was packed with screws and I was attacked again. I curled up into a ball. I was bordering on unconsciousness at this stage, though I recall at one point a screw shouted at them not to use batons on me. When things eventually calmed down a screw came over and sat on me. He seemed in a daze, crying and mumbling to himself. It was as though he was oblivious to me –at one point his hand was gripping my face, then he let go and got up and walked off. He seemed completely lost and bewildered. Two screws were then ordered to take me to the reception building. They each took an arm and half-ran, half-dragged me. The four of us had received similar treatment and were almost beyond feeling then. I passed Peter Hamilton as I entered reception. He was on the ground outside being kicked by screws. Once inside, I was put in a four foot square cubicle. The door opened twice and screws assaulted me. The second time I was left dazed on the floor. I was then dragged out and thrown into a van with Peter. We were still naked. The van drove to the boards, where we were dragged out by our ankles. Four screws trailed us along rough ground, scraping the skin off our backs and buttocks. They
M
arcus Murray and Marty McManus drove the Volkswagen van at breakneck speed along the narrow country roads. Eventually, they came to the main Belfast-Dublin dual carriageway and turned onto it. They thought about ditching the van but, worried 29