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War Without Honour Fred Holroyd & Nick Burbridge

Medium

War Without Honour Fred Holroyd & Nick Burbridge

Medium

COI\TTEI{TS Early Years Special training Active Service

Military Intelligence Dirty Tricks The Intelligence Web

Copyright Fred HolroYd 1989 Published in Great Britain by The Medium Publishing Co', 1a Clumber Street, FIULL HU5 3RH Set in Century Roman 9 Point Printed by Joseph Ward, DewsburY ISBN

1 872398 00 6

9

22 30 39 7A

89

Political Psychiatry Another Campaign Rhodesian Sojourn Battle Lines Postscript - The Full Circle

148

Glossary Appendices

155 159

106 113

L20

I29

COI\TTEI{TS Early Years Special training Active Service

Military Intelligence Dirty Tricks The Intelligence Web

Copyright Fred HolroYd 1989 Published in Great Britain by The Medium Publishing Co', 1a Clumber Street, FIULL HU5 3RH Set in Century Roman 9 Point Printed by Joseph Ward, DewsburY ISBN

1 872398 00 6

9

22 30 39 7A

89

Political Psychiatry Another Campaign Rhodesian Sojourn Battle Lines Postscript - The Full Circle

148

Glossary Appendices

155 159

106 113

L20

I29

Preface Fred Holroyd is a very unusual person. Hardly anyone has the stamina to go on fighting the British state offand on for 14 years, losing family, house and career en route. Yet this is what Fred has done. This is remarkable enough, but more remarkable yet, he has remained relatively cheerful - and sane.

I frrst met Fred and his wife, Marie-Claire, just after Christmas in 1987, in Colin Wallace's unheated living room. Wallace had just come out of prison after serving six years for a murder he didn't commit, and he and his wife, Eileen, couldn't afford to heat the place during the day. Fred and I should have met in April 1986. Fred was going to speak at the House of Commons launch of an issue of the magazine "Lobster" devoted to Colin Wallace's allegations but, completely skint, had taken what turned out to be a non--existent security job abroad. (The powers-that-be just wanted to ensure that he didn't appear at the launch.)

A great many bad roads had come together with Fred and Colin: the state's use of counter-terror in Northern Ireland, the spooks' assault on democracy in the 1970's, Kincora, covert operations on a massive scale, and a murderous internecine intelligence war in Northern lreland. The fact that Fred and Colin had had their lives wrecked, had everything to do with it. Of all the stones the British state doesn't want lifting, the assault on democracy in the 1970's and the war in Northern Ireland come top of the heap.

I taped an interview with Fred and Colin that day which appeared in "Tribune" under the headline 'Loyalty is what they stab you in the back with'something Fred said. Loyalty is important to Fred, loyalty to the Queen, country, the services. Fred doesn't shrug or smile cynically at the corruption of the institutions meant to embody the concepts he holds dear. He hates it.

Because Fred - Iike Colin Wallace - was a true believer, the discovery that the British state behaves as brutally (and stupidly) as most when it is threatened, was a shock. Cynics on the left don't feel that outrage anymore. But outrage is appropriate. What has been going on in this country - and Northern Ireland is this country, it is closer to me than Glasgow- is outrageous.

Though some of Fred's account of his Northern Ireland experiences have been published already in newspapers and magazines, most ofthis book is new.

Almost as asides to his major narrative, he reveals Masonic influence in the ilffiy, a hitherto secret major SAS operation in Thailand during the Wilson administration; and covert operations in Rhodesia just before the fall of the Smith regime. But it is lrlorthern Ireland, his experience of the early years of British state counter-terror, his subsequent struggle with the British state and its operations against him (and Colin Wallace, after they teamed up) which is the heart of this book.

We need people like Fred, people for whom the principles ofjustice and truth which we pay lip service to, really do matter. In 1987 he was offered 9150,000 compensation by the Ministry of Defence for his lost career in the army - a settlement after 12 years. He was completely broke at this point, hitching

Preface Fred Holroyd is a very unusual person. Hardly anyone has the stamina to go on fighting the British state offand on for 14 years, losing family, house and career en route. Yet this is what Fred has done. This is remarkable enough, but more remarkable yet, he has remained relatively cheerful - and sane.

I frrst met Fred and his wife, Marie-Claire, just after Christmas in 1987, in Colin Wallace's unheated living room. Wallace had just come out of prison after serving six years for a murder he didn't commit, and he and his wife, Eileen, couldn't afford to heat the place during the day. Fred and I should have met in April 1986. Fred was going to speak at the House of Commons launch of an issue of the magazine "Lobster" devoted to Colin Wallace's allegations but, completely skint, had taken what turned out to be a non--existent security job abroad. (The powers-that-be just wanted to ensure that he didn't appear at the launch.)

A great many bad roads had come together with Fred and Colin: the state's use of counter-terror in Northern Ireland, the spooks' assault on democracy in the 1970's, Kincora, covert operations on a massive scale, and a murderous internecine intelligence war in Northern lreland. The fact that Fred and Colin had had their lives wrecked, had everything to do with it. Of all the stones the British state doesn't want lifting, the assault on democracy in the 1970's and the war in Northern Ireland come top of the heap.

I taped an interview with Fred and Colin that day which appeared in "Tribune" under the headline 'Loyalty is what they stab you in the back with'something Fred said. Loyalty is important to Fred, loyalty to the Queen, country, the services. Fred doesn't shrug or smile cynically at the corruption of the institutions meant to embody the concepts he holds dear. He hates it.

Because Fred - Iike Colin Wallace - was a true believer, the discovery that the British state behaves as brutally (and stupidly) as most when it is threatened, was a shock. Cynics on the left don't feel that outrage anymore. But outrage is appropriate. What has been going on in this country - and Northern Ireland is this country, it is closer to me than Glasgow- is outrageous.

Though some of Fred's account of his Northern Ireland experiences have been published already in newspapers and magazines, most ofthis book is new.

Almost as asides to his major narrative, he reveals Masonic influence in the ilffiy, a hitherto secret major SAS operation in Thailand during the Wilson administration; and covert operations in Rhodesia just before the fall of the Smith regime. But it is lrlorthern Ireland, his experience of the early years of British state counter-terror, his subsequent struggle with the British state and its operations against him (and Colin Wallace, after they teamed up) which is the heart of this book.

We need people like Fred, people for whom the principles ofjustice and truth which we pay lip service to, really do matter. In 1987 he was offered 9150,000 compensation by the Ministry of Defence for his lost career in the army - a settlement after 12 years. He was completely broke at this point, hitching

around the country because he didn't even have a bus fare. Yet he turned the offer down because, at the last minute, a string was attached: he had to stop campaigning for Colin Wallace.

Fred thinks of himself as 'just an ordinary guy who was put into extraordinary circumstances'. Well, maybe. How many of us would give up 9150,000 for a friend's cause? I certainly hope I never have to make that kind of choice.

DED/CAIION

RobinRamsay

This book is dedicated to the late WO2 Bernard Dearsley, Royal Regiment of Fusileers, a peerless example of Kipling's 'gentleman in kharki'. 'Bunny'was a fearless, humourous and humane man who showed concern for friend and foe alike. He made all who knew him better persons for it. Many stiil serving in Her Majesty's Forces wear the decorations he won for them. I hope they will join me in wishing good fortune to his widow, Pat, and those of his family who have chosen to follow in his footsteps.

around the country because he didn't even have a bus fare. Yet he turned the offer down because, at the last minute, a string was attached: he had to stop campaigning for Colin Wallace.

Fred thinks of himself as 'just an ordinary guy who was put into extraordinary circumstances'. Well, maybe. How many of us would give up 9150,000 for a friend's cause? I certainly hope I never have to make that kind of choice.

DED/CAIION

RobinRamsay

This book is dedicated to the late WO2 Bernard Dearsley, Royal Regiment of Fusileers, a peerless example of Kipling's 'gentleman in kharki'. 'Bunny'was a fearless, humourous and humane man who showed concern for friend and foe alike. He made all who knew him better persons for it. Many stiil serving in Her Majesty's Forces wear the decorations he won for them. I hope they will join me in wishing good fortune to his widow, Pat, and those of his family who have chosen to follow in his footsteps.

I

would like to thank the following for the assistance and encouragement given to me during the past years. In an age where selfinterest appears paramount, it was heartening to knowio *..ty brave

1

and unselfish people:

EARLYYEARS

My wife, Marie-Claire, and my children, Bridget, Jolyon, Toby and

Rupert;

Humphrey Berkeley, Duncan Campbell, Liz Curtis, Jim Campbell, Dorril, Frank Doherty, Liam clarke, John Mulcahy, paul Foot, Howard Foster, Neil Grant, Ken T,ivingstone, chris Hird, Robert Harbinson, Michael Heney, Julian Hendy, Barry penrose, Ed Maloney, _Aldy Pollak, Richard Norton-Taylor, Gien Nobal, Joe Tiernan, Mike Taylor, clive Ponting, Bob p-arker, Major peter E., Nluiqt chris c., Maior Peter c., Lt.-colonel George c., Brigadier Bob T., Brigadier Colin G., Brigadier Michael H; Robert-Bunyard, Amanda Metcalf, Rosaleen and Alan, Bill and Tim. s_teve

For legal reasons, and to protect the security of individuals still serving, I have removed many names from the text. I have done this also to ensure thaiit is the subject of the story, and not just the role of particular individuals, which receives the greatest attention.

I was

a war baby, born in L942 inAshington, Northumberland, in the Seaton Hurst district on the east side of town. My mother had been conscripted for factory work, so I spent my first four and half years in my grandmother's home, with a tin bath hanging on the yard wall, an outside toilet, and a coalhouse, an archetypal tough environment softened by the close and kindly relationship Geordies invariably create gmgng themselves. I have always had a good memory, and recall the Victory over Japan celebrations held in the rough pasture next to Seventh Avenue where I lived. I was presented witli a new King'.s shilling at the Coop Hall for the wheelbarrow race. _ Allotments, pigeons, days on the beach at nearby Newbiggin all loom large in my recollections. But my main source of pleasure was a piece of newspaper twirled into a cone, and filled with cocoa and sugar.

Armed with this, I would sit and watch Geordie, a sixteen stone *iner who lived next door, as his tiny wife, Ginnie, washed the filthy coal dust from his back.

My maternal grandmother ruled the house with an iron discipline, andrny uncles rarely raised their voices at home, although as-I lay awake at night I could often hear them singing raucously with theii fellow miners on their way back from the puu. rney were all upright, handsome men, popular with the lasses. I used to watch them getting ready t9 so out - wearing highly polished boots and rakish cloth caps, smart three-piece black suits, stiffwhite collars and white silk scarves ;jokins with my grandmother as she fussed round them. occasionally I would walk with them to the North Seaton Hotel where I would bL given some bottles of stout to take home. They were happy years.

- I was, nonetheless, a tough little urchin by the time my father was discharged from the Army and returned to gather his family together. py contralt, my elder brother stephen had lived with the Holroyd family in Harrogate, where he had experienced a very different lifestyle. The Holroyds were well-to-do people with some property in the town, and his formative years could not have been more different. I remember his shock on being introduced to me; a mutual antipathy set in, which much to my regret has endured to this day. IC did not, however, ruin the remainder of my childhood. I passed the eleven plus examination and attended Harrogate Grammar School, where I was fortunate enough to have an enlightened headmaster, who, while he

I

would like to thank the following for the assistance and encouragement given to me during the past years. In an age where selfinterest appears paramount, it was heartening to knowio *..ty brave

1

and unselfish people:

EARLYYEARS

My wife, Marie-Claire, and my children, Bridget, Jolyon, Toby and

Rupert;

Humphrey Berkeley, Duncan Campbell, Liz Curtis, Jim Campbell, Dorril, Frank Doherty, Liam clarke, John Mulcahy, paul Foot, Howard Foster, Neil Grant, Ken T,ivingstone, chris Hird, Robert Harbinson, Michael Heney, Julian Hendy, Barry penrose, Ed Maloney, _Aldy Pollak, Richard Norton-Taylor, Gien Nobal, Joe Tiernan, Mike Taylor, clive Ponting, Bob p-arker, Major peter E., Nluiqt chris c., Maior Peter c., Lt.-colonel George c., Brigadier Bob T., Brigadier Colin G., Brigadier Michael H; Robert-Bunyard, Amanda Metcalf, Rosaleen and Alan, Bill and Tim. s_teve

For legal reasons, and to protect the security of individuals still serving, I have removed many names from the text. I have done this also to ensure thaiit is the subject of the story, and not just the role of particular individuals, which receives the greatest attention.

I was

a war baby, born in L942 inAshington, Northumberland, in the Seaton Hurst district on the east side of town. My mother had been conscripted for factory work, so I spent my first four and half years in my grandmother's home, with a tin bath hanging on the yard wall, an outside toilet, and a coalhouse, an archetypal tough environment softened by the close and kindly relationship Geordies invariably create gmgng themselves. I have always had a good memory, and recall the Victory over Japan celebrations held in the rough pasture next to Seventh Avenue where I lived. I was presented witli a new King'.s shilling at the Coop Hall for the wheelbarrow race. _ Allotments, pigeons, days on the beach at nearby Newbiggin all loom large in my recollections. But my main source of pleasure was a piece of newspaper twirled into a cone, and filled with cocoa and sugar.

Armed with this, I would sit and watch Geordie, a sixteen stone *iner who lived next door, as his tiny wife, Ginnie, washed the filthy coal dust from his back.

My maternal grandmother ruled the house with an iron discipline, andrny uncles rarely raised their voices at home, although as-I lay awake at night I could often hear them singing raucously with theii fellow miners on their way back from the puu. rney were all upright, handsome men, popular with the lasses. I used to watch them getting ready t9 so out - wearing highly polished boots and rakish cloth caps, smart three-piece black suits, stiffwhite collars and white silk scarves ;jokins with my grandmother as she fussed round them. occasionally I would walk with them to the North Seaton Hotel where I would bL given some bottles of stout to take home. They were happy years.

- I was, nonetheless, a tough little urchin by the time my father was discharged from the Army and returned to gather his family together. py contralt, my elder brother stephen had lived with the Holroyd family in Harrogate, where he had experienced a very different lifestyle. The Holroyds were well-to-do people with some property in the town, and his formative years could not have been more different. I remember his shock on being introduced to me; a mutual antipathy set in, which much to my regret has endured to this day. IC did not, however, ruin the remainder of my childhood. I passed the eleven plus examination and attended Harrogate Grammar School, where I was fortunate enough to have an enlightened headmaster, who, while he

11

10

was frequently forced to give me good hidings for my behaviour, still took a keen interest in me and offered me much sound advice.

Since those early days in Ashington I had always found myself the leader of one gang or another, and now, as a teenager, I would head off every Saturday night to the 'fourpenny hops'in town, along with all the other aspiring Teddy Boys. I was a very conventional lad with a strong sense of fair play, fascinated by all things military. I joined the school cadet corps, and attended all the training and adventure courses, until I became an NCO. I knew what I wanted to do, and was keen to leave school. Encouraged by my headmaster I stayed on until I had passed my O Levels. But I was no academic, and my urge tojoin the Army took precedence over everything else.

During my school years my parents' marriage had collapsed. My mother, an attractive and intelligent woman, had been working at the Air Ministry, where she had met a Squadron Leader and fallen in love with him. She conducted a clandestine affair for many months - and I found myself at times being used as an alibi, to lend innocence to her 'friendship'. I very soon became aware ofthe nature of the relationship, and after a difficult and painful process of decision, I resolved to tell my father what was happening. I think it was then that I had my first lesson about honesty. My mother denied everything. My father believed her, and I was soundly thrashed for being wicked. I was too young to understand the subtleties of the situation. My father, in fact, was perfectly aware of what was happening, but he loved my mother keenly, and was prepared to go to almost any lengths to protect their marriage. At the time I could only understand that I had been punished for telling the truth. Eventually, my mother ran away with the Squadron Leader, a divorce ensued, and she remarried. The fact that many years later she returned to my father seems ample proof to me that she never found the happiness she was looking for, away from her family. My own resilience ensured that I personally did not suffer too much damage from what happened, but my brother Stephen was seriously affected and we will both always regret that events did not

different course.

Looking back, I feel this experience may have created in me an intense dislike of deceit and treachery that in the real world has caused me tremendous problems. I am often described as naive by those more worldly than myself who regard deception as a routine part of life.I do not accept this.

take

a

It was now 1959. I stayed briefly with my mother in Plymouth. She had insisted that, before I join the Army, I try at least six months of civilian work. I found a job with a leather firm. But on one particular lunchtime I sat in a coffee bar listening to a Paratrooper talking about his life in the service, and that put paid to all that. I went back to Harrogate as soon as I could and enlisted. There were no vacancies in

the Parachute Regiment at that time, so I joined up in the Royal

Artillery

as a gunner. My path seemed set.

I worked hard at basic training, stationed at 17 Training Regiment Royaf Artillery, in Oswestry. So much so, I was considered offrcer

and internally posted to Mons Troop ( a special group oiyou|g men with officer potential undergoing basic training), to build up the necessary qualifrcations. Subsequently, I Passed the Regular Commis-

*ut"tiul

sion Board and attended Moni Officer Cadet School at Aldershot'

However, in the last week there I got involved in the kind of adolescent f thould have left behind me in Harrogate. The Cadets had all "pitoa" g'otr" do*n to the Women's Royal Army Corps Cadet school in fti"afr"ua for a party in one of the wooden accomodation huts there.I had my eye on a cerbain young \Moman, and at one point in a generally eiening, overheard a public schoolboy from the Cadet School ""*tV telling her whii a common typ" I was, and how sh9 couldn't consider goingiout with me. I happened to be friendly with another lad - a

son - and we dbcided to teach him a lesson. We ambushed him"in the toilets, stripped him naked, kicked open the doors into the spider hut and threw liim onto the dance floor. It was just our misiottntt" that the WRAC Brigadier should choose that moment to walk in.

I was returned to my unit and received my first insight into- a particulat kind of torrgit justice that sometimes operates within the

Erigialur's

btitirrt Army. There

had been a general breakdown of discipline that

evening, u.i -o"" serious offences, such as t!"t of the wine stocks, and acls of vandalism, including the removal of the WRAC sash of horroor. But when we were hauled before our own Commandant,

Brigadier Pope, these offences were overlooked; we alone were held resfronsible for the indiscipline, and returned to our units in disgrace'

I

wai seventeen at the time, and I took the punishment without complaint. After all, I had behaved badly. My friend, the Brigadier's son, reacted differently. After arguing angrily with Pope, he went back to his unit in Aden under protest. He committed suicide with a 9mm Browning shortly afterwards.

I was back with my training regiment at Oswestry I realised what a fool I had been, and resolved to put things right' I was posted to the lst Regiment Royal Horse Artillery, based at-Hildesheim, West Germany. buring the four years I spent there,-I still considered myself officer niaterial, ind as a yorr.tg Bombardier, forced myself to weather Once

the understandable cynicism of t ty immediate superiors. I managed to come first on the Royal Artillery NCO's Cadre, for all the gunner regiments on the Rhine. After lunch on the passing out day, I rem6mber being marched up to the General to be congratulaled - q1d io""d myseH?acing a man who had taken too much alcohol with his meal, utid *ho hal soup stains on the front of his service dress' The imagl had quite an effect on me - but I was careful to keep my thoughts to myself.

11

10

was frequently forced to give me good hidings for my behaviour, still took a keen interest in me and offered me much sound advice.

Since those early days in Ashington I had always found myself the leader of one gang or another, and now, as a teenager, I would head off every Saturday night to the 'fourpenny hops'in town, along with all the other aspiring Teddy Boys. I was a very conventional lad with a strong sense of fair play, fascinated by all things military. I joined the school cadet corps, and attended all the training and adventure courses, until I became an NCO. I knew what I wanted to do, and was keen to leave school. Encouraged by my headmaster I stayed on until I had passed my O Levels. But I was no academic, and my urge tojoin the Army took precedence over everything else.

During my school years my parents' marriage had collapsed. My mother, an attractive and intelligent woman, had been working at the Air Ministry, where she had met a Squadron Leader and fallen in love with him. She conducted a clandestine affair for many months - and I found myself at times being used as an alibi, to lend innocence to her 'friendship'. I very soon became aware ofthe nature of the relationship, and after a difficult and painful process of decision, I resolved to tell my father what was happening. I think it was then that I had my first lesson about honesty. My mother denied everything. My father believed her, and I was soundly thrashed for being wicked. I was too young to understand the subtleties of the situation. My father, in fact, was perfectly aware of what was happening, but he loved my mother keenly, and was prepared to go to almost any lengths to protect their marriage. At the time I could only understand that I had been punished for telling the truth. Eventually, my mother ran away with the Squadron Leader, a divorce ensued, and she remarried. The fact that many years later she returned to my father seems ample proof to me that she never found the happiness she was looking for, away from her family. My own resilience ensured that I personally did not suffer too much damage from what happened, but my brother Stephen was seriously affected and we will both always regret that events did not

different course.

Looking back, I feel this experience may have created in me an intense dislike of deceit and treachery that in the real world has caused me tremendous problems. I am often described as naive by those more worldly than myself who regard deception as a routine part of life.I do not accept this.

take

a

It was now 1959. I stayed briefly with my mother in Plymouth. She had insisted that, before I join the Army, I try at least six months of civilian work. I found a job with a leather firm. But on one particular lunchtime I sat in a coffee bar listening to a Paratrooper talking about his life in the service, and that put paid to all that. I went back to Harrogate as soon as I could and enlisted. There were no vacancies in

the Parachute Regiment at that time, so I joined up in the Royal

Artillery

as a gunner. My path seemed set.

I worked hard at basic training, stationed at 17 Training Regiment Royaf Artillery, in Oswestry. So much so, I was considered offrcer

and internally posted to Mons Troop ( a special group oiyou|g men with officer potential undergoing basic training), to build up the necessary qualifrcations. Subsequently, I Passed the Regular Commis-

*ut"tiul

sion Board and attended Moni Officer Cadet School at Aldershot'

However, in the last week there I got involved in the kind of adolescent f thould have left behind me in Harrogate. The Cadets had all "pitoa" g'otr" do*n to the Women's Royal Army Corps Cadet school in fti"afr"ua for a party in one of the wooden accomodation huts there.I had my eye on a cerbain young \Moman, and at one point in a generally eiening, overheard a public schoolboy from the Cadet School ""*tV telling her whii a common typ" I was, and how sh9 couldn't consider goingiout with me. I happened to be friendly with another lad - a

son - and we dbcided to teach him a lesson. We ambushed him"in the toilets, stripped him naked, kicked open the doors into the spider hut and threw liim onto the dance floor. It was just our misiottntt" that the WRAC Brigadier should choose that moment to walk in.

I was returned to my unit and received my first insight into- a particulat kind of torrgit justice that sometimes operates within the

Erigialur's

btitirrt Army. There

had been a general breakdown of discipline that

evening, u.i -o"" serious offences, such as t!"t of the wine stocks, and acls of vandalism, including the removal of the WRAC sash of horroor. But when we were hauled before our own Commandant,

Brigadier Pope, these offences were overlooked; we alone were held resfronsible for the indiscipline, and returned to our units in disgrace'

I

wai seventeen at the time, and I took the punishment without complaint. After all, I had behaved badly. My friend, the Brigadier's son, reacted differently. After arguing angrily with Pope, he went back to his unit in Aden under protest. He committed suicide with a 9mm Browning shortly afterwards.

I was back with my training regiment at Oswestry I realised what a fool I had been, and resolved to put things right' I was posted to the lst Regiment Royal Horse Artillery, based at-Hildesheim, West Germany. buring the four years I spent there,-I still considered myself officer niaterial, ind as a yorr.tg Bombardier, forced myself to weather Once

the understandable cynicism of t ty immediate superiors. I managed to come first on the Royal Artillery NCO's Cadre, for all the gunner regiments on the Rhine. After lunch on the passing out day, I rem6mber being marched up to the General to be congratulaled - q1d io""d myseH?acing a man who had taken too much alcohol with his meal, utid *ho hal soup stains on the front of his service dress' The imagl had quite an effect on me - but I was careful to keep my thoughts to myself.

13

12

Whatever its faults I knew I belonged to the Army. I took pride in my professional performance and sense of discipline. I admired most of my officers, and was proud to serve in an elite regiment. I had learned to ski at Aviemore, while I had been in the Mons troop, and when I got to Germany, I was selected for the regimental team. We used to train in Norway and Austria and compete on the German slopes. Our crosscountry team came second out of all the teams in the Army - and in those days the Army was, effectively, the British Team. Those four years at Hildesheim were fruitful and positive - I matured quickly, still nurturing my ambition to be as good an o{ficer as those I served under, and determined, when my chance came again, to make no more mistakes.

In 1964, I was sent back to Mons. The new climate there suited me well. Instead of Cavalry and Guards officers wandering around with silver topped canes - all pose and no soldiering - the instruction came mainly from Para and Infantry offrcers. We actually went out and did the stuff, and weren't forced to spend endless hours cieaning brasses and webbing. I passed out that year - originally as a Lieutenant, posted to 1 Company Air Portable, RASC at Colchester. Then I wentto Buller Barracks to complete my junior officers'course. We all worked extremely hard, and I came out with a high grade. At last I had earned my Regular Commission, and in effect I was back where I would have been if the Hindhead incident had never happened. I was frt, and keen, and somewhat disappointed to be posted back to the Depot Regiment but I learned from my Brigadier that this was only because I was on what he called the'golden circle'which meant that I was going to be groomed for high rank.

It was at this time that I met Fiona, my first wife, a pretty redhaired woman who had just qualified as a teacher, and was working in Kennigton, at an infant school. We met at a party near Stratford on Avon. We had a military wedding at Gawsworth in Cheshire, and settled down together in quarters at Fleet. Despite the events which I will recall here, I can honestly say that I dearly loved my wife, and the four children we had together. Rupert, Jolyon, Toby and Bridget, born over the following years. But I never made any secret ofthe fact that for me the Army was of the utmost importance, and I would never be swayed in my commitment to serve successfully as an officer. Fiona accepted this at the time, even thought the pressures and burdens which ensued led her to change her mind once I had been posted to Ireland.

In 1966 I finished my tour of duty with the Depot Regiment and applied to join the Gurkha Transport Regiment. I had admired the officers passing through the Depot who, now that the campaign in Borneo was winding down, were leaving for other postings. I expected the next two years to be one of the highspots of my Army Service. What I found was quite different and coloured my views on colonialism for

many years.

I was posted to Kluang in Malaysia._There was a Resiserving there which virtually ran

*ettiai HQ and two squadrons

themselves. The Nepaleie Queen's Gurkha Oflicers worked long and tirelessly, and the Gurkha soldiers themselves lived up to every epithet apilied to them: loyal, brave'and strong - even though they ,""*"i^to respond best to a kind of discipline which might best b9 described as rather stultifying'and negative. However, the British Oflicers I met in Kluang badly let the side down. Given too much time on their hands, they often behaved in a grotesque caricature of the worst type of colonial overseer. An excessive social and drinking l,ife rife wi[[ affairs made me ashamed of my uniform at times. I also became aware of the pervasive influence of Freemasonry in such circles. A senior officerin my command had met my uncle, who at the time was serving at GCHQ in Hong Kong, where the Regiment's Third Squadron was 6ased. Safe in the Lodge in Repulse Bay, they _had discussed my future and decided I should join the order. This oflicer subsequeritly put a great deal of pressure on me, in the most tactless manner, to accord with their plans and I reacted in a stubbornly negative way. Fellow officers who were also Masonsjoined in with the otit-twisting. I held out, not because I had anything particularlyagainst Freemasonry itself, but simply because I resented this kind of tieatment. In the end, I began to feel quite alienated within the Mess.

When I coupled this feeling with my distaste for the 'carpet-bagget' mentality, I realised I would have to apply to leave the unit before my full tour *as co-pleted. My C.O. reacted badly, regarding my decision as a slight upon his own qualities of leadership. I was merely happy to get out as soon as I could. Years later, though, when I met him' now as a iirigadier at the School of Transport on home territory, we both wen! outlf our way to remove any bad blood which may have remained between us.

While serving with the Gurkhas in Malaysia in 1967 I learned for the first time tliat for political reasons things could not be quite what they seemed. I took part in a large brigade sized logistic exercise on the

easi coast of Malaya for ANZAC (Australia, New Zealand and Commonwealth) forces. This was publicly described as a 'brigade

maintenance'exercise - checking that the brigade deployed in the field could be logistically supplied. In fact, it was being used as a cover for a covert SAS operation.

I was a troop commander in the Brigade transport company moving stores in the biigade area. One of our tasks was supporting the forryard

airfield at which the Air Despatchers were parachuting loads from Argosy aircraft over Thailand to SAS patrols. The SAS had been dei'loied at the request of the Thai government-to hunt remnants of YongPing's communist guerillas who had moved into Thailand at the

end of the wtalaya'emergency'. These guerillas had become little more than bandits and were terrorising the Thai population. Because of the

nensitivity of the issue this was kept from the British public, and

13

12

Whatever its faults I knew I belonged to the Army. I took pride in my professional performance and sense of discipline. I admired most of my officers, and was proud to serve in an elite regiment. I had learned to ski at Aviemore, while I had been in the Mons troop, and when I got to Germany, I was selected for the regimental team. We used to train in Norway and Austria and compete on the German slopes. Our crosscountry team came second out of all the teams in the Army - and in those days the Army was, effectively, the British Team. Those four years at Hildesheim were fruitful and positive - I matured quickly, still nurturing my ambition to be as good an o{ficer as those I served under, and determined, when my chance came again, to make no more mistakes.

In 1964, I was sent back to Mons. The new climate there suited me well. Instead of Cavalry and Guards officers wandering around with silver topped canes - all pose and no soldiering - the instruction came mainly from Para and Infantry offrcers. We actually went out and did the stuff, and weren't forced to spend endless hours cieaning brasses and webbing. I passed out that year - originally as a Lieutenant, posted to 1 Company Air Portable, RASC at Colchester. Then I wentto Buller Barracks to complete my junior officers'course. We all worked extremely hard, and I came out with a high grade. At last I had earned my Regular Commission, and in effect I was back where I would have been if the Hindhead incident had never happened. I was frt, and keen, and somewhat disappointed to be posted back to the Depot Regiment but I learned from my Brigadier that this was only because I was on what he called the'golden circle'which meant that I was going to be groomed for high rank.

It was at this time that I met Fiona, my first wife, a pretty redhaired woman who had just qualified as a teacher, and was working in Kennigton, at an infant school. We met at a party near Stratford on Avon. We had a military wedding at Gawsworth in Cheshire, and settled down together in quarters at Fleet. Despite the events which I will recall here, I can honestly say that I dearly loved my wife, and the four children we had together. Rupert, Jolyon, Toby and Bridget, born over the following years. But I never made any secret ofthe fact that for me the Army was of the utmost importance, and I would never be swayed in my commitment to serve successfully as an officer. Fiona accepted this at the time, even thought the pressures and burdens which ensued led her to change her mind once I had been posted to Ireland.

In 1966 I finished my tour of duty with the Depot Regiment and applied to join the Gurkha Transport Regiment. I had admired the officers passing through the Depot who, now that the campaign in Borneo was winding down, were leaving for other postings. I expected the next two years to be one of the highspots of my Army Service. What I found was quite different and coloured my views on colonialism for

many years.

I was posted to Kluang in Malaysia._There was a Resiserving there which virtually ran

*ettiai HQ and two squadrons

themselves. The Nepaleie Queen's Gurkha Oflicers worked long and tirelessly, and the Gurkha soldiers themselves lived up to every epithet apilied to them: loyal, brave'and strong - even though they ,""*"i^to respond best to a kind of discipline which might best b9 described as rather stultifying'and negative. However, the British Oflicers I met in Kluang badly let the side down. Given too much time on their hands, they often behaved in a grotesque caricature of the worst type of colonial overseer. An excessive social and drinking l,ife rife wi[[ affairs made me ashamed of my uniform at times. I also became aware of the pervasive influence of Freemasonry in such circles. A senior officerin my command had met my uncle, who at the time was serving at GCHQ in Hong Kong, where the Regiment's Third Squadron was 6ased. Safe in the Lodge in Repulse Bay, they _had discussed my future and decided I should join the order. This oflicer subsequeritly put a great deal of pressure on me, in the most tactless manner, to accord with their plans and I reacted in a stubbornly negative way. Fellow officers who were also Masonsjoined in with the otit-twisting. I held out, not because I had anything particularlyagainst Freemasonry itself, but simply because I resented this kind of tieatment. In the end, I began to feel quite alienated within the Mess.

When I coupled this feeling with my distaste for the 'carpet-bagget' mentality, I realised I would have to apply to leave the unit before my full tour *as co-pleted. My C.O. reacted badly, regarding my decision as a slight upon his own qualities of leadership. I was merely happy to get out as soon as I could. Years later, though, when I met him' now as a iirigadier at the School of Transport on home territory, we both wen! outlf our way to remove any bad blood which may have remained between us.

While serving with the Gurkhas in Malaysia in 1967 I learned for the first time tliat for political reasons things could not be quite what they seemed. I took part in a large brigade sized logistic exercise on the

easi coast of Malaya for ANZAC (Australia, New Zealand and Commonwealth) forces. This was publicly described as a 'brigade

maintenance'exercise - checking that the brigade deployed in the field could be logistically supplied. In fact, it was being used as a cover for a covert SAS operation.

I was a troop commander in the Brigade transport company moving stores in the biigade area. One of our tasks was supporting the forryard

airfield at which the Air Despatchers were parachuting loads from Argosy aircraft over Thailand to SAS patrols. The SAS had been dei'loied at the request of the Thai government-to hunt remnants of YongPing's communist guerillas who had moved into Thailand at the

end of the wtalaya'emergency'. These guerillas had become little more than bandits and were terrorising the Thai population. Because of the

nensitivity of the issue this was kept from the British public, and

15

1

14 l

possibly, for all I know, from Paliament. It is a measure of the success of this operation that the vast majority of those involved in the exercise had no idea that a real external covert operation was taking place. It was seeing the RCT Air Despatch Squadron in this operation which led me to eventually join Air Despatch. Here, I thought, was a unit of my own Corps which was seeing some real action, and I wanted to be part of it. When I eventually became an Independent Air Despatch Troop Commander I was disappointed to frnd that although some of my NCO's were involved in covert operations abroad, because of the'need to know' rule, I was not authorised to have information about their activities. However, a book has recently been published by one of those NCO's describing his role in the secret war in Oman. ("The Secret War: Dhofar 1971- 72" David Arkless, William Kimber, London 1988).

After a short leave in England, I received my next posting to Germany, to a Divisional Transport Regiment - intially as an Adrnin.

Offrcer in a Tlansport Squadron, and then as a Regimental Training Oflicer. I was fortunate to be awarded promotion to substantive Captain early on, and this removed any stale taste I might have had from my tour of Malaya. I served two years in Bunde, Westphalia, and had the satisfaction of captaining the unit's ski teams, which won the Canadian Land Forces Tbophy and the Princess Marina Cup, the two highest trophies the Army competes for. My second son, Jolyon, was born. The family travelled round most of Europe in our VW estate. By the tirne I came back to England,I felt once more happy and fulfilled.

There were a further two yars, spent with 47 Air Despatch Squadron, working with Hercules aircraft from Lyneham, flying around the world with my own independent troop, before I was ordered to do my Intermediate Tbansport Course with a crowd of other offrcers who, having had full careers, had managed to avoid it until this time. Based at the School of Transport, Marchwood, we took a close look at all the logistical systems in the country. They were a good bunch of individuals, and it was another happy time for me. I frnished the course in 1972. I was by now a well qualified young o{ficer, and despite the occasional misgivings a firm believer in the values I was entrusted to defend.

This is a very brief summary of my frrst thirteen years inthe Army. I could go on at length, as old soldiers tend to do, but I feel an outline is enough here - since the main purpose of these recollections lies in my experience in Ireland. That experience began some months before I

actually set foot on Irish soil. At the end of the Marchwood course I was told I would be posted to Bunde again - not to my own Corps, but as a Motor Transport Oflicer with 2 Division HQ and Sigaals Regiment. I happened to know that all the vehicles belonging to this Signals

Regiment were in a parlous state, and it would be'a nightmare trying to keep the L960's A.E.C. Ten Tonners on the road. It was the last sort ofjob I wanted. So I decided to look round for something more fruitful,

TOP: My parents, when courting: John victor Holroyd and Eileen o'Donnell. BELOW: Target practice in the Harrogate Grammar School Combined Cadet Force, 1956.

15

1

14 l

possibly, for all I know, from Paliament. It is a measure of the success of this operation that the vast majority of those involved in the exercise had no idea that a real external covert operation was taking place. It was seeing the RCT Air Despatch Squadron in this operation which led me to eventually join Air Despatch. Here, I thought, was a unit of my own Corps which was seeing some real action, and I wanted to be part of it. When I eventually became an Independent Air Despatch Troop Commander I was disappointed to frnd that although some of my NCO's were involved in covert operations abroad, because of the'need to know' rule, I was not authorised to have information about their activities. However, a book has recently been published by one of those NCO's describing his role in the secret war in Oman. ("The Secret War: Dhofar 1971- 72" David Arkless, William Kimber, London 1988).

After a short leave in England, I received my next posting to Germany, to a Divisional Transport Regiment - intially as an Adrnin.

Offrcer in a Tlansport Squadron, and then as a Regimental Training Oflicer. I was fortunate to be awarded promotion to substantive Captain early on, and this removed any stale taste I might have had from my tour of Malaya. I served two years in Bunde, Westphalia, and had the satisfaction of captaining the unit's ski teams, which won the Canadian Land Forces Tbophy and the Princess Marina Cup, the two highest trophies the Army competes for. My second son, Jolyon, was born. The family travelled round most of Europe in our VW estate. By the tirne I came back to England,I felt once more happy and fulfilled.

There were a further two yars, spent with 47 Air Despatch Squadron, working with Hercules aircraft from Lyneham, flying around the world with my own independent troop, before I was ordered to do my Intermediate Tbansport Course with a crowd of other offrcers who, having had full careers, had managed to avoid it until this time. Based at the School of Transport, Marchwood, we took a close look at all the logistical systems in the country. They were a good bunch of individuals, and it was another happy time for me. I frnished the course in 1972. I was by now a well qualified young o{ficer, and despite the occasional misgivings a firm believer in the values I was entrusted to defend.

This is a very brief summary of my frrst thirteen years inthe Army. I could go on at length, as old soldiers tend to do, but I feel an outline is enough here - since the main purpose of these recollections lies in my experience in Ireland. That experience began some months before I

actually set foot on Irish soil. At the end of the Marchwood course I was told I would be posted to Bunde again - not to my own Corps, but as a Motor Transport Oflicer with 2 Division HQ and Sigaals Regiment. I happened to know that all the vehicles belonging to this Signals

Regiment were in a parlous state, and it would be'a nightmare trying to keep the L960's A.E.C. Ten Tonners on the road. It was the last sort ofjob I wanted. So I decided to look round for something more fruitful,

TOP: My parents, when courting: John victor Holroyd and Eileen o'Donnell. BELOW: Target practice in the Harrogate Grammar School Combined Cadet Force, 1956.

TOP LEFT: With Lt. Col. Bremner, C.O. of 1st Regiment Royal Horse Artillery, Tofrek Barracks, Hildesheim. TOP RIGHT: 2nd Lt. Holroyd, 1 Coy. (Airportable) RASC'' Colchester 1964. BELOW: Animal Transport, Aldershot 1965' TOP:

A military wedding,

Oberjoch, Bavaria, 1970.

Gawsworbh church, cheshire 1969. BELOW: An inspection'

TOP LEFT: With Lt. Col. Bremner, C.O. of 1st Regiment Royal Horse Artillery, Tofrek Barracks, Hildesheim. TOP RIGHT: 2nd Lt. Holroyd, 1 Coy. (Airportable) RASC'' Colchester 1964. BELOW: Animal Transport, Aldershot 1965' TOP:

A military wedding,

Oberjoch, Bavaria, 1970.

Gawsworbh church, cheshire 1969. BELOW: An inspection'

TOP: 2 Divisional Regiment RCT, Skiing Team 1969. BELOW: Officers of the Gurkha Transport Regiment, Kluang Officers Mess, Malaysia (myself on far right).

TOP: 2 Divisional Regiment RCT, Skiing Team 1969. BELOW: Officers of the Gurkha Transport Regiment, Kluang Officers Mess, Malaysia (myself on far right).

20

where I could usefully put into practice the skills I had learned. Major Moss, my Commanding Officer, knew full well my views on the matter, and one morning approached me to tell me that he had seen an order asking for Military Intelligence Officers and Military Intelligence Liaison Officers (MIO's and MILO's) to serye in Northern lreland.

Rather like the Paras and the SAS, no unit could stop anyone from volunteering if they so wished. I didn't know just what I was letting myself in for, but I leapt at the chance, and was immediately selected for the course.

At this stage my wife and family were living in a married quarter at Compton Bassett, just off the 4303, four miles from the airport at Lyneham - a comfortable house in a'married patch'where Fiona had many friends. I felt quite happy to leave them there for the threemonth training course, driving back every second weekend to see them. However, some friction had built up in my marriage, and I would be wrong to deny it. Fiona was pregnant once more, and found it hard to cope with my enforced absences abroad. She had begun to compare me unfavourably with my colleagues who, as senior captains, had already given up an active life and were settling to desk jobs and taking out mortgages - the kind of role I simply didn't associate with my own Army work. I could see her point of view, but I had always made my position clear * and now that at last, I had the chance to see active service and put all my training into practice, I was hardly likely to turn my back on it. In retrospect, perhaps the time I spent training for my work in Ireland could have been more carefully handled. For Fiona, alone with the children in Compton Bassett, where she was well settled and secure, the prospect of my transfer to Ulster was clearly very daunting. But I was involved in very specialised and demanding work, and expected a support which simply wasn't forthcoming.

We were already pulling in di{ferent directions, and, later events should not perhaps have seemed so surprising. There was one.evening in particular, when the warning signs were only too clear. We had some friends to stay - fro{n Harrogate - an ex-Arrny man, who had left the service at his wife's request. The two women stayed at home together, while we went out.

When we got back we found them both crying. I spent a couple of hours being berated for what a fool I was, volunteering for Ireland, of all places; how I would go out and get myself killed and leave my family behind me. No matter what I said about any sense of duty and loyalty,I couldn't make an impression. I tried to explain how much the army had given us, what it had allowed us to do, how it had offered us a sense of purpose and identity, and how I felt an obligation to pay this back in any way I could. I tried to reason that, as a patriot and soldier, it was no more than was expectedofme to be preparedto frght terroristswho had openly declared war on my country. I had the right background and training to be prepared to be genuinely useful. Whatever fear I, or

21

rnyone close to me, might have for my safety w-as_ a secondaryconsidnever have joined the Army in the frrst - if it wasn't IIihould had any effect. I wasmet only with mor-e place . . . Nothing said ["u6 and opposition] In retrospect, perhaps sel{ishly, I was unmoved. [.'or the frrst-time in my career I was going on active service. It was what I had always wanted to do. There was nothing anyone coud say, or

*rution

do to stop me.

20

where I could usefully put into practice the skills I had learned. Major Moss, my Commanding Officer, knew full well my views on the matter, and one morning approached me to tell me that he had seen an order asking for Military Intelligence Officers and Military Intelligence Liaison Officers (MIO's and MILO's) to serye in Northern lreland.

Rather like the Paras and the SAS, no unit could stop anyone from volunteering if they so wished. I didn't know just what I was letting myself in for, but I leapt at the chance, and was immediately selected for the course.

At this stage my wife and family were living in a married quarter at Compton Bassett, just off the 4303, four miles from the airport at Lyneham - a comfortable house in a'married patch'where Fiona had many friends. I felt quite happy to leave them there for the threemonth training course, driving back every second weekend to see them. However, some friction had built up in my marriage, and I would be wrong to deny it. Fiona was pregnant once more, and found it hard to cope with my enforced absences abroad. She had begun to compare me unfavourably with my colleagues who, as senior captains, had already given up an active life and were settling to desk jobs and taking out mortgages - the kind of role I simply didn't associate with my own Army work. I could see her point of view, but I had always made my position clear * and now that at last, I had the chance to see active service and put all my training into practice, I was hardly likely to turn my back on it. In retrospect, perhaps the time I spent training for my work in Ireland could have been more carefully handled. For Fiona, alone with the children in Compton Bassett, where she was well settled and secure, the prospect of my transfer to Ulster was clearly very daunting. But I was involved in very specialised and demanding work, and expected a support which simply wasn't forthcoming.

We were already pulling in di{ferent directions, and, later events should not perhaps have seemed so surprising. There was one.evening in particular, when the warning signs were only too clear. We had some friends to stay - fro{n Harrogate - an ex-Arrny man, who had left the service at his wife's request. The two women stayed at home together, while we went out.

When we got back we found them both crying. I spent a couple of hours being berated for what a fool I was, volunteering for Ireland, of all places; how I would go out and get myself killed and leave my family behind me. No matter what I said about any sense of duty and loyalty,I couldn't make an impression. I tried to explain how much the army had given us, what it had allowed us to do, how it had offered us a sense of purpose and identity, and how I felt an obligation to pay this back in any way I could. I tried to reason that, as a patriot and soldier, it was no more than was expectedofme to be preparedto frght terroristswho had openly declared war on my country. I had the right background and training to be prepared to be genuinely useful. Whatever fear I, or

21

rnyone close to me, might have for my safety w-as_ a secondaryconsidnever have joined the Army in the frrst - if it wasn't IIihould had any effect. I wasmet only with mor-e place . . . Nothing said ["u6 and opposition] In retrospect, perhaps sel{ishly, I was unmoved. [.'or the frrst-time in my career I was going on active service. It was what I had always wanted to do. There was nothing anyone coud say, or

*rution

do to stop me.

23

2

SPECIAL TRAII{ING The Joint Services Intelligence Training Centre stands on the right hand side of the A20, as you head south towards Ashford, Kent. You turn right, travel for 200 metres along a road that runs between married quarters, go over a small hill, and then ahead of you is the main gate with the guardroom on the right. You are stopped by a sentry, who makes you get out of the car and go to a sidegate to check your credentials while his colleagpe examines your car. If everything is on order, you drive through. And you enter the secretive world of Military Intelligence.

It was a bright summer af[ernoon in 1973. As I made my way to the Officers'Mess, I remember thinking that despite tight security in the camp - the car checked with a mirror, the trees and grounds interlaced by an infra-red beam alarm system - ofall places they had put the car park directly underneath an extension of the Mess, supported by pillars. It was an ideal target, if anyone should pierce the cordon. It was my first Sense of the peculiar marriage of effrciency and negligence which marks this particular branch of the Services. on my first day, I was introduced to colonel G, the offrcer in charge of the course, a small stout caricature of an English gentleman, and Captain V, a tall, well-built, but effeminate man, who would be my Cadre instructor. The nine other officers on the course were a mixed bunch. T\l9o particularly stand out in rny mind: a Cavalryman, an archetypal Hooray Henry, and an offrcer from my own Corps, a pale, thin, delicate-looking chap with sensitive hands. The others were pretty much like myself.

There was another soldier on the course who wasn't in the Oflicers' Mess that night, but who was to play a bigger part in what followed than anyonJelse. Staff Sergeant P was intended to be my FINCO (Field Intelligence NCO) when we eventually went over to lreland. As NCO, he spent his leisure time in the Sergeants'Mess and would come across each morning for lectures and other training, then meet us again later in the day for typing, observation and recognition eiercises. Later, in Ireland, he developed the habit of walking about talking in his very loud English accent, while the rest of us learned to whisper. It typifred his approach to the job'

At this stage, however, we befriended

work closely together, if we both

one another, and agreed to

passed the course and were posted.

Since we had been told by Colonel G that there was a 507o fallute rate, this was by no means assured. So began an intensive three months of training, much of which turned out to have very little to do with any of my *oik in Ireland! Because in Ireland the image people have of this kind of soldiering is based largely on the exploits of the SAS, and what

in thrillers and TV dramatisations, an insider's account of it is like will come as something of a surprise. With hindsight, I

we find

what

think the training we underwent did not prepare men fully to go into action, and rnust [ave had a bearing on some of the confused operating

practices I discovered in Northern Ireland when I got there.

To begin with, there was Colonel G himself. He had never been to Ulster, ind was teaching us on a secondhand basis. His endless stories about his time with the British Military Mission in East Germany the team of Army officers allowed to cross the Iron Curtain to keep tabs on troop movements - were entertaining, but seemed to me to have no relevarice whatsoever. Slides ofthe East Germanteams pursuingthem through the forests with special detectors, or examples of mic"ofilT hidin[ places (toothpaste tubes, vacuum flasks, torches), all of which <lbvio[siy came out of the Intelligence Corps Museum, were hardly going to prepare us for gathering information on the streets of Ulster. in .o"tt"tt, baptain V Clearly knew his stuff, but his advice related to the area in which he had operated, close to the border, and his answer to any question about other areas or issues was simply to tell us that we had io iake personal responsibility for everything over there; all he could do waiinstil in us iuspicion, alertness, inquisitiveness, and the f'undamental rules to be carried out to ensure our personal safety. We ull felt we needed more than this, and the course had not been udequately planned to ensure that we got it.

In other respects, our instruction was much more satisfactory' 'l'raining on all kinds of cameras, ranging from the small Minox, to the targe Japanese models with telescopic lenses,was compulsory; we were

giv6n roils of frlm to take out on exeicise, and have developed at tt-re end and anyone whose pictures were not up to scratch had to go iif tn" day-complete the exercise again. We also trained on several out and clifferent weapons: AKs, Schmeisers, Btrownings, Lugers. We had to strip them, .ttd put them back together blindfold; and we learned to carry out Immediate Action Drills for a number of situations which we couli find ourselves in. And every day at ten o'clock we would go out on [he range situated near the original country house, and practise until we were all sound marksmen.

We were also trained in manufacturing explosives, petrol bombs with chemical detonators and so on. It soon became apparent to the

staff that I disliked handling explosives! And as a consequence they usked me to set and detonate a whole series. I recall one Molotov

Oocktail I was ordered to prepare, made with petrol and acid. The two had to be mixed together itt u bottle, sealed and washed in a bucket of

23

2

SPECIAL TRAII{ING The Joint Services Intelligence Training Centre stands on the right hand side of the A20, as you head south towards Ashford, Kent. You turn right, travel for 200 metres along a road that runs between married quarters, go over a small hill, and then ahead of you is the main gate with the guardroom on the right. You are stopped by a sentry, who makes you get out of the car and go to a sidegate to check your credentials while his colleagpe examines your car. If everything is on order, you drive through. And you enter the secretive world of Military Intelligence.

It was a bright summer af[ernoon in 1973. As I made my way to the Officers'Mess, I remember thinking that despite tight security in the camp - the car checked with a mirror, the trees and grounds interlaced by an infra-red beam alarm system - ofall places they had put the car park directly underneath an extension of the Mess, supported by pillars. It was an ideal target, if anyone should pierce the cordon. It was my first Sense of the peculiar marriage of effrciency and negligence which marks this particular branch of the Services. on my first day, I was introduced to colonel G, the offrcer in charge of the course, a small stout caricature of an English gentleman, and Captain V, a tall, well-built, but effeminate man, who would be my Cadre instructor. The nine other officers on the course were a mixed bunch. T\l9o particularly stand out in rny mind: a Cavalryman, an archetypal Hooray Henry, and an offrcer from my own Corps, a pale, thin, delicate-looking chap with sensitive hands. The others were pretty much like myself.

There was another soldier on the course who wasn't in the Oflicers' Mess that night, but who was to play a bigger part in what followed than anyonJelse. Staff Sergeant P was intended to be my FINCO (Field Intelligence NCO) when we eventually went over to lreland. As NCO, he spent his leisure time in the Sergeants'Mess and would come across each morning for lectures and other training, then meet us again later in the day for typing, observation and recognition eiercises. Later, in Ireland, he developed the habit of walking about talking in his very loud English accent, while the rest of us learned to whisper. It typifred his approach to the job'

At this stage, however, we befriended

work closely together, if we both

one another, and agreed to

passed the course and were posted.

Since we had been told by Colonel G that there was a 507o fallute rate, this was by no means assured. So began an intensive three months of training, much of which turned out to have very little to do with any of my *oik in Ireland! Because in Ireland the image people have of this kind of soldiering is based largely on the exploits of the SAS, and what

in thrillers and TV dramatisations, an insider's account of it is like will come as something of a surprise. With hindsight, I

we find

what

think the training we underwent did not prepare men fully to go into action, and rnust [ave had a bearing on some of the confused operating

practices I discovered in Northern Ireland when I got there.

To begin with, there was Colonel G himself. He had never been to Ulster, ind was teaching us on a secondhand basis. His endless stories about his time with the British Military Mission in East Germany the team of Army officers allowed to cross the Iron Curtain to keep tabs on troop movements - were entertaining, but seemed to me to have no relevarice whatsoever. Slides ofthe East Germanteams pursuingthem through the forests with special detectors, or examples of mic"ofilT hidin[ places (toothpaste tubes, vacuum flasks, torches), all of which <lbvio[siy came out of the Intelligence Corps Museum, were hardly going to prepare us for gathering information on the streets of Ulster. in .o"tt"tt, baptain V Clearly knew his stuff, but his advice related to the area in which he had operated, close to the border, and his answer to any question about other areas or issues was simply to tell us that we had io iake personal responsibility for everything over there; all he could do waiinstil in us iuspicion, alertness, inquisitiveness, and the f'undamental rules to be carried out to ensure our personal safety. We ull felt we needed more than this, and the course had not been udequately planned to ensure that we got it.

In other respects, our instruction was much more satisfactory' 'l'raining on all kinds of cameras, ranging from the small Minox, to the targe Japanese models with telescopic lenses,was compulsory; we were

giv6n roils of frlm to take out on exeicise, and have developed at tt-re end and anyone whose pictures were not up to scratch had to go iif tn" day-complete the exercise again. We also trained on several out and clifferent weapons: AKs, Schmeisers, Btrownings, Lugers. We had to strip them, .ttd put them back together blindfold; and we learned to carry out Immediate Action Drills for a number of situations which we couli find ourselves in. And every day at ten o'clock we would go out on [he range situated near the original country house, and practise until we were all sound marksmen.

We were also trained in manufacturing explosives, petrol bombs with chemical detonators and so on. It soon became apparent to the

staff that I disliked handling explosives! And as a consequence they usked me to set and detonate a whole series. I recall one Molotov

Oocktail I was ordered to prepare, made with petrol and acid. The two had to be mixed together itt u bottle, sealed and washed in a bucket of

24

25

interrogate a recalcitrant Irish prisoner, I was chosen to go first, and rrrppotedly show the others how it should be done. Once inside I was faced with what seemed to be a huge Belfast man, who immediately leaned over the table and threatened me with every kind of retribution imaginable. I began to reason with him quietly, as I should, but the more violent he becarne. suddenly he stood up and pulled a pistol from his pocket and qt"d point blank into my facb. I wai so shocked,I fell backwards offmy-chair for the purpose, caught my - and the video "d-ur., nicely positioned as I tumbled to the floor. I could hear the laughter blanched expression from the corridor, as the door opened and the others were ushered in' And the instructor's voice - 'That'll teach you not to search for a weapon.'I learned later that my video was used to stop students from being overconfident. It taught me a useful lesson.

Some of the practical exercises, designed to test our new skills resembled scene; from the Keystone Cops. The first such outing was held in Ashford town, and involved an NCO arriving at a particular

water. Then a buffenvelope had to be attached, containing two other

chemicals - along with gum of arabic inside the bottle to make sure it was properly adhesive. These chemicals had to be put in in the right order, or the whole thing blew up in one's face. I couldn't stop myself shaking as I glanced round to see everyone else conveniently turn away; then, with trembling fingers, tried to put it together, in the hope I wasn't going to become the first casualty of the course! In the event, I got it right. And there was my homemade bomb, ready to explode the moment it hit the ground. Of course, the advantage of this kind of Molotov needs little explanation. You don't have to use a burning rag or anything like that - and under the cover of night, no one can tell where the missile has come from.

We also learned useful little tricks with explosives, like homemade shaped charges to blow neat holes in safes. You take a wine bottle with a concave base. Six inches from the base you tie a petrol soaked rag and ignited it. The heat expands the glass which is then dropped into a bucket of cold water. The sharp contraction breaks the glass cleanly round the line of the bottom of the burning rag, leaving the last six inches of the bottle, a perfect container for packing with explosives to use for a shaped charge in a controlled explosion. In our practical test we used this technique to blow out the dial combination lock on a safe.

The lock-picking training was taught by one Royal Army Ordnance Captain 'Chubby' L. Shortly after the course started we were taken into a building in the barracks, and along a corridor. The end door was a replica of 10 Downing Street, which Captain L proceeded to open using his army ID card. Behind it was the lecture room where he would instruct us in all manner of of 'target penetration' - full of the latest devices manufactured by the top civilian companies to protect every kind of premises. After an introductory lecture on the history of the lock itself, we were taught how to circumnavigate all these systems.

Again, this was the type of instruction which would prove valuable in time to come. The most apposite area of instruction was in the practice

cafe, ata certain time. He would be picked up by a syndicate of three or

four students followed until midday, and a record kept of all his movements and activities. Each syndicate was given its own quarry and time to appear.

There were three of us in my team, armed with overcoats and hats

we could interchange in the str-eet to alter our appearance. We were all carrying plastic car.ier bags, with other items of disguise inside. I was chos'en tlo go into the cafe and keep tabs on the NCO inside. I watched as he walked up to the counter and filled his tray.

Not wanting to lose him, I sidled into the queue' two spaces behind,

with

a

tray I ripidly fitled

as

well, thinking we'd have a long breakfast

as our quarry reached the till, he immediately put down his tray and ran out of the cafe, leaving me stuck in the queue

before *ol ittg iff. but

and signal to-the gtfgrs outside. Later on, the only real vantage point to keep in touch with him was in the office of the local building society. The trick was to keep the staffoccupied while you hung around. I had nearly signed the deeds for *y ,rorr-"*istent house before it was time to move on again. And when, laier still, my qualTy walked straight through Woolworths, out of the back, and through the Emergency Exit, setting off the alarms someone had to Totlow him, without getting caught and arrested for

*ith tnitt", desperately trying to get after him,

of interrogation. Inside the Ashford camp is an inner

compound, screened offby high fences and floodlights, which contains a complex of Portakabin type buildings, some of thern sealed completely. In these buildings is a large operational monitoring room and a number of cells, each of which has a video camera and is bugged. I knew that they were used for genuine interrogation purposes. So, while we trained there, we had a very real sense of what we were doing. And this was another area where I was singled out for special attention.

While I had been stationed in Germany, my ski troop had often been requested to provide soldiers for the German Special Forces School in Bavaria for NATO deep interrogation exercises. I took thirty men or so for three days at a time to act as the staff, while NATO pilots were

burglary!

It was all

supposed to teach us to have confidence in the unorthodox'

The second ex-ercise was still more fraught with embarrassment' It also took place in Ashford. The syndicates were meant to position themselves around the town centre and keep observation on another set of quarries. By half past eight in the morning, we were all stationed at various points n"u.i the War Memorial, waiting for the 'e-n-emy' whom we had been instructed to trail throughout the morning' Mean-

subjected, to the most rigorous interrogations. The instructors at Ashford clearly knew about this and decided to take me down a peg or two. On a particular day when we were ordered to go into a cell and

*

24

25

interrogate a recalcitrant Irish prisoner, I was chosen to go first, and rrrppotedly show the others how it should be done. Once inside I was faced with what seemed to be a huge Belfast man, who immediately leaned over the table and threatened me with every kind of retribution imaginable. I began to reason with him quietly, as I should, but the more violent he becarne. suddenly he stood up and pulled a pistol from his pocket and qt"d point blank into my facb. I wai so shocked,I fell backwards offmy-chair for the purpose, caught my - and the video "d-ur., nicely positioned as I tumbled to the floor. I could hear the laughter blanched expression from the corridor, as the door opened and the others were ushered in' And the instructor's voice - 'That'll teach you not to search for a weapon.'I learned later that my video was used to stop students from being overconfident. It taught me a useful lesson.

Some of the practical exercises, designed to test our new skills resembled scene; from the Keystone Cops. The first such outing was held in Ashford town, and involved an NCO arriving at a particular

water. Then a buffenvelope had to be attached, containing two other

chemicals - along with gum of arabic inside the bottle to make sure it was properly adhesive. These chemicals had to be put in in the right order, or the whole thing blew up in one's face. I couldn't stop myself shaking as I glanced round to see everyone else conveniently turn away; then, with trembling fingers, tried to put it together, in the hope I wasn't going to become the first casualty of the course! In the event, I got it right. And there was my homemade bomb, ready to explode the moment it hit the ground. Of course, the advantage of this kind of Molotov needs little explanation. You don't have to use a burning rag or anything like that - and under the cover of night, no one can tell where the missile has come from.

We also learned useful little tricks with explosives, like homemade shaped charges to blow neat holes in safes. You take a wine bottle with a concave base. Six inches from the base you tie a petrol soaked rag and ignited it. The heat expands the glass which is then dropped into a bucket of cold water. The sharp contraction breaks the glass cleanly round the line of the bottom of the burning rag, leaving the last six inches of the bottle, a perfect container for packing with explosives to use for a shaped charge in a controlled explosion. In our practical test we used this technique to blow out the dial combination lock on a safe.

The lock-picking training was taught by one Royal Army Ordnance Captain 'Chubby' L. Shortly after the course started we were taken into a building in the barracks, and along a corridor. The end door was a replica of 10 Downing Street, which Captain L proceeded to open using his army ID card. Behind it was the lecture room where he would instruct us in all manner of of 'target penetration' - full of the latest devices manufactured by the top civilian companies to protect every kind of premises. After an introductory lecture on the history of the lock itself, we were taught how to circumnavigate all these systems.

Again, this was the type of instruction which would prove valuable in time to come. The most apposite area of instruction was in the practice

cafe, ata certain time. He would be picked up by a syndicate of three or

four students followed until midday, and a record kept of all his movements and activities. Each syndicate was given its own quarry and time to appear.

There were three of us in my team, armed with overcoats and hats

we could interchange in the str-eet to alter our appearance. We were all carrying plastic car.ier bags, with other items of disguise inside. I was chos'en tlo go into the cafe and keep tabs on the NCO inside. I watched as he walked up to the counter and filled his tray.

Not wanting to lose him, I sidled into the queue' two spaces behind,

with

a

tray I ripidly fitled

as

well, thinking we'd have a long breakfast

as our quarry reached the till, he immediately put down his tray and ran out of the cafe, leaving me stuck in the queue

before *ol ittg iff. but

and signal to-the gtfgrs outside. Later on, the only real vantage point to keep in touch with him was in the office of the local building society. The trick was to keep the staffoccupied while you hung around. I had nearly signed the deeds for *y ,rorr-"*istent house before it was time to move on again. And when, laier still, my qualTy walked straight through Woolworths, out of the back, and through the Emergency Exit, setting off the alarms someone had to Totlow him, without getting caught and arrested for

*ith tnitt", desperately trying to get after him,

of interrogation. Inside the Ashford camp is an inner

compound, screened offby high fences and floodlights, which contains a complex of Portakabin type buildings, some of thern sealed completely. In these buildings is a large operational monitoring room and a number of cells, each of which has a video camera and is bugged. I knew that they were used for genuine interrogation purposes. So, while we trained there, we had a very real sense of what we were doing. And this was another area where I was singled out for special attention.

While I had been stationed in Germany, my ski troop had often been requested to provide soldiers for the German Special Forces School in Bavaria for NATO deep interrogation exercises. I took thirty men or so for three days at a time to act as the staff, while NATO pilots were

burglary!

It was all

supposed to teach us to have confidence in the unorthodox'

The second ex-ercise was still more fraught with embarrassment' It also took place in Ashford. The syndicates were meant to position themselves around the town centre and keep observation on another set of quarries. By half past eight in the morning, we were all stationed at various points n"u.i the War Memorial, waiting for the 'e-n-emy' whom we had been instructed to trail throughout the morning' Mean-

subjected, to the most rigorous interrogations. The instructors at Ashford clearly knew about this and decided to take me down a peg or two. On a particular day when we were ordered to go into a cell and

*

26

27

while, life went on around us, and so it happened that a Securicor bullion truck pulled up outside the bank nearby. Most of the teams were too busy looking up and down the road waiting for their quarry to emerge, to notice that no one came out of the vehicle. Meanwhile ihe crew inside were contacting the police to tell them there was a crowd of suspicious characters lurking round the street. The whole exercise was interupted some minutes later, when four police cars arrived and everyone was summarily arrested. Only the special papers we had been given at the School got us offthe hook. But, ofcourse, the quarries

simply took advantage of the situation to walk calmly through the town centre and escape us.

There were two other such episodes. On a damp eariy summer morning we were all taken to Canterbury. My group was instructed to leave a dog's name-tag cylinder, with a coded message inside, at a known place, which would tell a 'spy'where to pick up a dead letter drop. (This is a procedure that allows agents to pass messages without actually having to meet each other and thereby becoming privy to knowledge they don't 'need to know'.) He would then have to be followed and observed. The dead letter wouid tell him to meet another agent in the cathedral precincts, and both had to be photographed together. To begin with, the dog tag had to be left in the Borough Architect's office. We had no choice but to walk brazen faced into the middle of a County Surveyors'meeting. I said'Excuse me', and simply strode across to large section ofrnap trays, counted three across and three down, put in our message, and walked out again, leaving everyone in the room staring at me bemusedly, though not one of them thought to check what I had left there. Back outside, we left another of these little cylinders in a wastepaper basket and then returned to the street to keep watch, lurking round casually as we had been taught.

Through a window we watched our agent go in, disturbing the meeting for a second time, open the drawer and take out the coded message, once more watched in total bewilderment by members attending the meeting. We then followed him to the area of the cathedral, where, using anti-tracking methods, he managed to drop us. In some disarray by now, we hurried to the southern end of the cathedral and ensconced ourselves in the memorial garden, hoping to pick him up again. Sure enough, our man approached through a gap in the wall, and we were able to photograph him, as if we were taking snaps of the the memorial itself. He then crossed into the main cathedral grounds, and cut across the grass, to go into the cloisters, where the meeting with the other agent was supposed to take place.

We had a problem now, to get ahead of him. But this was immedi-

ately solved by a dog running out of a nearby cleric's house and vigorously attacking our quarry. With great glee, we took the opportunity to race round the cathedral and position ourselves in time to photograph the two 'spies' together, albeit with one minus half his

trouser leg. The ludicrousness of the situation only increased as we retreated - and kept bumping into all the other syndicates, chasing various quarries about the cathedral, all trying not to laugh, as they dodged round the pillars. Finally, on adjourning to the nearest pub for a hard earned pint, the first thing we saw was another syndicate at the bar and then another . . . within half an hour, the whole bar was jammed with Intelligence Corps staffand students, all pretendingthey were total strangers. In the end, the laughter did break out, and that was the end of

it.

The last of these incidents was perhaps the most absurd of all. My task was straightforward enough - to shake off any surveillance_ I came under. Tlie exercise started at nine o'clock. After I'd been walking twenty minutes or so, keeping my eyes open and losing lnyonel suipected of being assigned to watch me, I becarne aware of this lad, about fifteen or sfuteen, who was clearly following me . . . 'Aha!'said the aspiring Intelligence Officer to hirnself, 'they're not using NCOs now, they ,rslng family' . . . . This was obviously the son of one of the instructors. So I went into full gear to get rid of him. I rushed into a hotel, took offmy coat,hung it on a peg, picked up someone else's and went out of the kitchen entrance. I came round the hotel, back through the front door again, and then emerged in the mack I'd been carryingin the obligatory bag. I hurried down to the railway station, dropped th-e bag, and went off again. I couldn't believe it when I saw the lad still beiind me. Whenever I stopped to look round, so did he. Whenever I hurried on, he did likewise. Worried now that I wasn't doing too well, I rushed into a school, entered the staff room through the French windows, saying 'Good morning' to the bewildered teachers, went down a corridorind out onto the playing fields beyond. I threw myself over a fence. I could still see the boy sprinting across the grass behind me. There was a public convenience nearby. I rushed in and locked myself,in a cubicle. By standing on the toilet seat, I managed to get out of a small frosted glass window overhead at great risk to my private parts. I dangled over an iron fence, dropped down, and ran off: only to iee the boy hot on my trail. By now, it was half an hour after the exercise was Supposed to have ended, so when I reached the streets again, tr gave up trying to lose him. If I'd failed the exercise, s0 be it.

As I came down the high street acar pulled in beside me. captain v leaned out and asked me rvhere on earth I'd been- I told him about the boy - who was still doggedly behind me. Capt. V went across and asked him what he was doing. The boy simply replied that he had seen me acting suspiciously early that morning, and in true Enid Blyton style, had been fbllowing me ever since, in the vain hope of finding a policeman to take over. Capt. V came back to see me' his face wreathed in smiles.

,'You bloody fool', he said, 'He's nothing to do with us!'

I got into the car and we drove back to camp.

26

27

while, life went on around us, and so it happened that a Securicor bullion truck pulled up outside the bank nearby. Most of the teams were too busy looking up and down the road waiting for their quarry to emerge, to notice that no one came out of the vehicle. Meanwhile ihe crew inside were contacting the police to tell them there was a crowd of suspicious characters lurking round the street. The whole exercise was interupted some minutes later, when four police cars arrived and everyone was summarily arrested. Only the special papers we had been given at the School got us offthe hook. But, ofcourse, the quarries

simply took advantage of the situation to walk calmly through the town centre and escape us.

There were two other such episodes. On a damp eariy summer morning we were all taken to Canterbury. My group was instructed to leave a dog's name-tag cylinder, with a coded message inside, at a known place, which would tell a 'spy'where to pick up a dead letter drop. (This is a procedure that allows agents to pass messages without actually having to meet each other and thereby becoming privy to knowledge they don't 'need to know'.) He would then have to be followed and observed. The dead letter wouid tell him to meet another agent in the cathedral precincts, and both had to be photographed together. To begin with, the dog tag had to be left in the Borough Architect's office. We had no choice but to walk brazen faced into the middle of a County Surveyors'meeting. I said'Excuse me', and simply strode across to large section ofrnap trays, counted three across and three down, put in our message, and walked out again, leaving everyone in the room staring at me bemusedly, though not one of them thought to check what I had left there. Back outside, we left another of these little cylinders in a wastepaper basket and then returned to the street to keep watch, lurking round casually as we had been taught.

Through a window we watched our agent go in, disturbing the meeting for a second time, open the drawer and take out the coded message, once more watched in total bewilderment by members attending the meeting. We then followed him to the area of the cathedral, where, using anti-tracking methods, he managed to drop us. In some disarray by now, we hurried to the southern end of the cathedral and ensconced ourselves in the memorial garden, hoping to pick him up again. Sure enough, our man approached through a gap in the wall, and we were able to photograph him, as if we were taking snaps of the the memorial itself. He then crossed into the main cathedral grounds, and cut across the grass, to go into the cloisters, where the meeting with the other agent was supposed to take place.

We had a problem now, to get ahead of him. But this was immedi-

ately solved by a dog running out of a nearby cleric's house and vigorously attacking our quarry. With great glee, we took the opportunity to race round the cathedral and position ourselves in time to photograph the two 'spies' together, albeit with one minus half his

trouser leg. The ludicrousness of the situation only increased as we retreated - and kept bumping into all the other syndicates, chasing various quarries about the cathedral, all trying not to laugh, as they dodged round the pillars. Finally, on adjourning to the nearest pub for a hard earned pint, the first thing we saw was another syndicate at the bar and then another . . . within half an hour, the whole bar was jammed with Intelligence Corps staffand students, all pretendingthey were total strangers. In the end, the laughter did break out, and that was the end of

it.

The last of these incidents was perhaps the most absurd of all. My task was straightforward enough - to shake off any surveillance_ I came under. Tlie exercise started at nine o'clock. After I'd been walking twenty minutes or so, keeping my eyes open and losing lnyonel suipected of being assigned to watch me, I becarne aware of this lad, about fifteen or sfuteen, who was clearly following me . . . 'Aha!'said the aspiring Intelligence Officer to hirnself, 'they're not using NCOs now, they ,rslng family' . . . . This was obviously the son of one of the instructors. So I went into full gear to get rid of him. I rushed into a hotel, took offmy coat,hung it on a peg, picked up someone else's and went out of the kitchen entrance. I came round the hotel, back through the front door again, and then emerged in the mack I'd been carryingin the obligatory bag. I hurried down to the railway station, dropped th-e bag, and went off again. I couldn't believe it when I saw the lad still beiind me. Whenever I stopped to look round, so did he. Whenever I hurried on, he did likewise. Worried now that I wasn't doing too well, I rushed into a school, entered the staff room through the French windows, saying 'Good morning' to the bewildered teachers, went down a corridorind out onto the playing fields beyond. I threw myself over a fence. I could still see the boy sprinting across the grass behind me. There was a public convenience nearby. I rushed in and locked myself,in a cubicle. By standing on the toilet seat, I managed to get out of a small frosted glass window overhead at great risk to my private parts. I dangled over an iron fence, dropped down, and ran off: only to iee the boy hot on my trail. By now, it was half an hour after the exercise was Supposed to have ended, so when I reached the streets again, tr gave up trying to lose him. If I'd failed the exercise, s0 be it.

As I came down the high street acar pulled in beside me. captain v leaned out and asked me rvhere on earth I'd been- I told him about the boy - who was still doggedly behind me. Capt. V went across and asked him what he was doing. The boy simply replied that he had seen me acting suspiciously early that morning, and in true Enid Blyton style, had been fbllowing me ever since, in the vain hope of finding a policeman to take over. Capt. V came back to see me' his face wreathed in smiles.

,'You bloody fool', he said, 'He's nothing to do with us!'

I got into the car and we drove back to camp.

29

28

The moral of this tale was, as I learned on frequent occasions in Northern Ireland, that intelligence work contains a high proportion of farce and it is extremely easy to make a complete fool of yourself. A sense of the ridiculous is undoubtedly an asset in the intelligence world.

The last week came, and judgement with it. Not everyone had stayed the course. The Hooray Henry had gone long since. My friend with the

sensitive hands had lasted out, however. And I shall always be gateful - since I was hopeless at typing, and relied on him to type upmy reports at the end ofthe day -just as I would later rely on my FINCO to do the same in Ireland. Tony P too, had survived. Now it was a question of how many of us would be selected for duty.

Colonel G had us in, one by one, and let us know the results. I was second from last, and had seen just who had been successful and who had not. I was feeling confident. They told me that, initially, I'd been considered too straightlaced a soldier to be able to adapt to the,unconventional role of a Military Intelligence Offrcer. The need to behave in a civilian way, to dress suitably for whatever area one might have. to work in, to use informal methods . . . all this had seemed to be outside my rather blinkered capability and obvious military bearing. Bu! I had learned well, I was told, and I was to be posted to Ireland in the near future, to work in the city of Armargh. I was delighted, and left the camp, saying goodbye to Tony P who had also passed, knowing that we would meet again before long, in very different circumstances.

As I drove back to Compton Bassett I fett exhilarated.I forgot aboqt the more ludicrous side of things, and thought instead of the work ahead. Many years later, as I watched with millions of others on television the mobilisation for the Falklands War, and saw the extraordinary lengths to which some oflicers and menhad gonetomake sure that they gofto their mobilisation points so they would not miss'their waf" I firund myself identifring with them closely, and recalling just how i felt as I leh Ashford that day. I experienced no fear or misgiving, simply a glow of satisfaction, and the urge to get on with the job.

Ireland itself, I knew little more than I had been told on Regarding-and what I had picked up, like any other member of the the c6urse, public, through the media, and by word of mouth. The official Army bverview of tle situation was straightforward. On the one side there was the IRA, split into two groups by ideological 4ifferences, fighting the forces of tle Crown, supported by parts of the Republican community, who may or may not (depending on who you listened to) have had a iaw deal during the previous three decades. On the other side, there were the lawless elements in the Loyalist population, who were either genuine terrorists, or criminals using the political situation as a screen for their personal gain. As a soldier it was one's duty to act impartially in support of law and order, fighting any form of illegality one might-encounter. I felt confident I could carry out that duty.

to him

What I didn't know then about the war I was about to enter was how

the'rule of law and order was not wha! it seemed, and I would encounter illegalities on my own side which would severely dent my Bense of purpose. I understood

there was

a

certain mood of ruthlessness

pervading our thinking on Counter Terrorism. Shortly before the end of the training, Brigadier (as he was then) Frank Kitson had come to address us on the subject. He was taking time off from the international conference then being held at Blackdown, the Army Ordnance Depot near Aldershot - and his lecture at Ashford was attended by a number of American, German and French officers. He was rightly gonsidered the top man in his field. Kitson spoke very clearly and very elowly, almost as if he was addressing a crowd of schoolchildren; and I

realised that the tactical philosophy he was expounding was rather different from that normally associated with the British Army. The logic of the use of infiltration, pseudo-gangs, and deep interrogation, to defeat terrorist opposition, was nonetheless compelling. I was yet to

how it worked in practice - and just how it could involve breaking the law and imitating terrorism itself to achieve its ends.

On the evening of Kitson's lecture there was a party in the Officers' Mess. An American approached me dressed like a U.S. Cavalry Officer, with purple water-silk facings and yellow rank bars on his jacket shoulders. He quietly proceeded to try to recruit me, along with two other Captains from the course, into the CIA. At first I thought this was just another ofour initiative tests, but when I spoke to my Colonel, he assured me that the approach was genuine. At that moment, I realised just how different my work would be from anything I once Bee

expected.

29

28

The moral of this tale was, as I learned on frequent occasions in Northern Ireland, that intelligence work contains a high proportion of farce and it is extremely easy to make a complete fool of yourself. A sense of the ridiculous is undoubtedly an asset in the intelligence world.

The last week came, and judgement with it. Not everyone had stayed the course. The Hooray Henry had gone long since. My friend with the

sensitive hands had lasted out, however. And I shall always be gateful - since I was hopeless at typing, and relied on him to type upmy reports at the end ofthe day -just as I would later rely on my FINCO to do the same in Ireland. Tony P too, had survived. Now it was a question of how many of us would be selected for duty.

Colonel G had us in, one by one, and let us know the results. I was second from last, and had seen just who had been successful and who had not. I was feeling confident. They told me that, initially, I'd been considered too straightlaced a soldier to be able to adapt to the,unconventional role of a Military Intelligence Offrcer. The need to behave in a civilian way, to dress suitably for whatever area one might have. to work in, to use informal methods . . . all this had seemed to be outside my rather blinkered capability and obvious military bearing. Bu! I had learned well, I was told, and I was to be posted to Ireland in the near future, to work in the city of Armargh. I was delighted, and left the camp, saying goodbye to Tony P who had also passed, knowing that we would meet again before long, in very different circumstances.

As I drove back to Compton Bassett I fett exhilarated.I forgot aboqt the more ludicrous side of things, and thought instead of the work ahead. Many years later, as I watched with millions of others on television the mobilisation for the Falklands War, and saw the extraordinary lengths to which some oflicers and menhad gonetomake sure that they gofto their mobilisation points so they would not miss'their waf" I firund myself identifring with them closely, and recalling just how i felt as I leh Ashford that day. I experienced no fear or misgiving, simply a glow of satisfaction, and the urge to get on with the job.

Ireland itself, I knew little more than I had been told on Regarding-and what I had picked up, like any other member of the the c6urse, public, through the media, and by word of mouth. The official Army bverview of tle situation was straightforward. On the one side there was the IRA, split into two groups by ideological 4ifferences, fighting the forces of tle Crown, supported by parts of the Republican community, who may or may not (depending on who you listened to) have had a iaw deal during the previous three decades. On the other side, there were the lawless elements in the Loyalist population, who were either genuine terrorists, or criminals using the political situation as a screen for their personal gain. As a soldier it was one's duty to act impartially in support of law and order, fighting any form of illegality one might-encounter. I felt confident I could carry out that duty.

to him

What I didn't know then about the war I was about to enter was how

the'rule of law and order was not wha! it seemed, and I would encounter illegalities on my own side which would severely dent my Bense of purpose. I understood

there was

a

certain mood of ruthlessness

pervading our thinking on Counter Terrorism. Shortly before the end of the training, Brigadier (as he was then) Frank Kitson had come to address us on the subject. He was taking time off from the international conference then being held at Blackdown, the Army Ordnance Depot near Aldershot - and his lecture at Ashford was attended by a number of American, German and French officers. He was rightly gonsidered the top man in his field. Kitson spoke very clearly and very elowly, almost as if he was addressing a crowd of schoolchildren; and I

realised that the tactical philosophy he was expounding was rather different from that normally associated with the British Army. The logic of the use of infiltration, pseudo-gangs, and deep interrogation, to defeat terrorist opposition, was nonetheless compelling. I was yet to

how it worked in practice - and just how it could involve breaking the law and imitating terrorism itself to achieve its ends.

On the evening of Kitson's lecture there was a party in the Officers' Mess. An American approached me dressed like a U.S. Cavalry Officer, with purple water-silk facings and yellow rank bars on his jacket shoulders. He quietly proceeded to try to recruit me, along with two other Captains from the course, into the CIA. At first I thought this was just another ofour initiative tests, but when I spoke to my Colonel, he assured me that the approach was genuine. At that moment, I realised just how different my work would be from anything I once Bee

expected.

31

3

ACTIVE SERVICE In Northern Ireland the activity ofthe various Intelligence agencies has increased dramatically during the last fifteen years. In 1973, when I was first posted, the system was still relatively primitive. The chief civilian agency at work was the Secret Intelligence Service, or MI6 (I knew little at all about it then, though I was soon to frnd out). In the sphere in which I was expected to work, Army Intelligence cooperated with the RUC Special Branch to gather as much information as it could on the terrorist groups at large and to recruit as many informers as possible. To each RUC Division was attached a SMIU Cell (Special Military Intelligence Unit) which could consist ofMilitary Intelligence Officers, Field Intelligence NCOs, and the Military Liaison Officers. these were intended to form the spearhead of regular intelligence work, trying to ensure that all information received by the Army and

police was effectively collated, warnings given and taken, and surveillance successfully carried out.

Basically, we had been taught that we should deal with gathering information on what was called the Intelligence Cycle - a continuous operation, dividing into six parts: (a) Determination of the Intelligence Problem O) ThelntelligenceAppreciation/Estimate (c) CollectionPlanning (d) The Intelligence Process (e) Dissemination (0 Re-appreciation I must admit, I found the thought of the paperwork pretty*daunting, involving as it would the latest personality indexes, current IRA activities (in other words the ORBAT (Order of Battle) of the area), social breakdown and topography. My job would be to concentrate on

the liaison between the police and the Army which, at that time, was considered to be well below par. In a sense, then, I would have three separate masters: the commanding o{Iicer of the Special Military Intelligence Unit, the head of the Special Branch and the Brigadier in elnqge of the resident Brigade. My role would indeed be unconv\tional, and clearly require some diplomacy, as well as an unusua\degree of flexibility and independence. I was well aware that the situation in the province had seriously deteriorated: sectarian murder was rife, our soldiers regularly killed.

a My posting did not have an auspicious beginning' There,were only heard had but-I Ireland, foi f;i;t; [E reiore t was due to 1""'"" u"thorities' Eventuallv M":g tqttt"

;id;;?";

!:l=lf

""t"u""t artaog6d u *arrant for me, and a ferry ticket,andproTit"dq"::9^T,{ I had sorted things out' So, nulslng-q tew,days when over iamili I had bought ror *"*ttt of beard, and the scruffy civilian clothes trr" t"ui" for Liverpool. I saw this as a physically to i-rt"a u""" traininghard over the precedingveeks' in weight, and feliprepared for what lay ahead' I i.to"" half lost arrived early for the Belfast ferry, hoping to preserve my cover'â&#x201A;Źlnce *u" apparently so seciet iven he himself didn't know

fr;;ii. il;il;a

#;;hill;b tt

MIO',

"6le " he was travelling' when

get I was duly issued with a special boarding qass'lo I managed to thetoat Evenutally calin. in a myself install and i""ry i"to'th"

ilii"d;;

"."tV i";tie

quav. Suddenlv, a voice came over the ship's

tannoy: --.wiit-cuptain

purser's offrce as he Fred Holroyd please rgggr! to_the h; L;;;;f,o,"n to be tfre lvtititary fa."iiies' oflicer for the journey . . .'

So much for undercover work!

I waited on We docked at the other side, very early in the morning' all the ptt*ttg"tt fria disemUarked and then made my tfte Uo.t ""til dock, stilihalf expecting someone to meet me there' ;;;J";;"tothe on thg i;;t-e;;, the white lights shinine bleaklv i;H;;;lll, across to a caravan parked on.the quay -"and n1I immediately recognised the NCO manning-tfe post.P,one ol phone Armv ifhe could asked and form, the rtit" l;;;;;;1ei""" i tira tobe ii-d-.fi,i"u"rnto findoutwhatl should be doing. ThirSsdid, srl{ Desr r the that and unit, my of heard even had toli that no one there ;;d-d";;"to tut " thu bo, up to Lisburn and sort it out there. The Staffsergeant then went offabout his business' at As I sat in the caravan waiting, a furtive face appeared suddenly hair' long the window - with a huge beard and 'Psst!'he whispered. 'Over here! Come on!'

A"a ftit head dropped out ofsight' I went to the door ofthe caravan head i;; t'i* au'tiie b"tY-"q two cars' Againto the convince tried stranger ""d-;;;;;i;;t over here!'The dis=hevelled ".["i "olF."t!

I became genuinelv alarmed' wondering if fi;;;;t;;A;tbfr;t. tol"fto* I ftad been set up when I had barely arrived in the province' I rushed offinto the Departure/Arrival lounge and found the.Royal prstol r Coros of Transport NCO and borrowed his Browning 9mm

iffi"]f ;;A;i,';"y

"t" il;;-;;u"

and found the stranger lurking-in.the the Browning I asked him'Who the hell game-?'

Hi*and rnoved to his pocket and I told *ft.t's-your slowly andZarefully. He produced an out of date identity

""ti,

"fograih

iltttiU"r.-t"Tn" .u.-p"* ;it-;e;;;ld;""i"g tti*'*ittt V""."a ift" pt

on

wtrich bore no resemblance to him whatsoever'

31

3

ACTIVE SERVICE In Northern Ireland the activity ofthe various Intelligence agencies has increased dramatically during the last fifteen years. In 1973, when I was first posted, the system was still relatively primitive. The chief civilian agency at work was the Secret Intelligence Service, or MI6 (I knew little at all about it then, though I was soon to frnd out). In the sphere in which I was expected to work, Army Intelligence cooperated with the RUC Special Branch to gather as much information as it could on the terrorist groups at large and to recruit as many informers as possible. To each RUC Division was attached a SMIU Cell (Special Military Intelligence Unit) which could consist ofMilitary Intelligence Officers, Field Intelligence NCOs, and the Military Liaison Officers. these were intended to form the spearhead of regular intelligence work, trying to ensure that all information received by the Army and

police was effectively collated, warnings given and taken, and surveillance successfully carried out.

Basically, we had been taught that we should deal with gathering information on what was called the Intelligence Cycle - a continuous operation, dividing into six parts: (a) Determination of the Intelligence Problem O) ThelntelligenceAppreciation/Estimate (c) CollectionPlanning (d) The Intelligence Process (e) Dissemination (0 Re-appreciation I must admit, I found the thought of the paperwork pretty*daunting, involving as it would the latest personality indexes, current IRA activities (in other words the ORBAT (Order of Battle) of the area), social breakdown and topography. My job would be to concentrate on

the liaison between the police and the Army which, at that time, was considered to be well below par. In a sense, then, I would have three separate masters: the commanding o{Iicer of the Special Military Intelligence Unit, the head of the Special Branch and the Brigadier in elnqge of the resident Brigade. My role would indeed be unconv\tional, and clearly require some diplomacy, as well as an unusua\degree of flexibility and independence. I was well aware that the situation in the province had seriously deteriorated: sectarian murder was rife, our soldiers regularly killed.

a My posting did not have an auspicious beginning' There,were only heard had but-I Ireland, foi f;i;t; [E reiore t was due to 1""'"" u"thorities' Eventuallv M":g tqttt"

;id;;?";

!:l=lf

""t"u""t artaog6d u *arrant for me, and a ferry ticket,andproTit"dq"::9^T,{ I had sorted things out' So, nulslng-q tew,days when over iamili I had bought ror *"*ttt of beard, and the scruffy civilian clothes trr" t"ui" for Liverpool. I saw this as a physically to i-rt"a u""" traininghard over the precedingveeks' in weight, and feliprepared for what lay ahead' I i.to"" half lost arrived early for the Belfast ferry, hoping to preserve my cover'â&#x201A;Źlnce *u" apparently so seciet iven he himself didn't know

fr;;ii. il;il;a

#;;hill;b tt

MIO',

"6le " he was travelling' when

get I was duly issued with a special boarding qass'lo I managed to thetoat Evenutally calin. in a myself install and i""ry i"to'th"

ilii"d;;

"."tV i";tie

quav. Suddenlv, a voice came over the ship's

tannoy: --.wiit-cuptain

purser's offrce as he Fred Holroyd please rgggr! to_the h; L;;;;f,o,"n to be tfre lvtititary fa."iiies' oflicer for the journey . . .'

So much for undercover work!

I waited on We docked at the other side, very early in the morning' all the ptt*ttg"tt fria disemUarked and then made my tfte Uo.t ""til dock, stilihalf expecting someone to meet me there' ;;;J";;"tothe on thg i;;t-e;;, the white lights shinine bleaklv i;H;;;lll, across to a caravan parked on.the quay -"and n1I immediately recognised the NCO manning-tfe post.P,one ol phone Armv ifhe could asked and form, the rtit" l;;;;;;1ei""" i tira tobe ii-d-.fi,i"u"rnto findoutwhatl should be doing. ThirSsdid, srl{ Desr r the that and unit, my of heard even had toli that no one there ;;d-d";;"to tut " thu bo, up to Lisburn and sort it out there. The Staffsergeant then went offabout his business' at As I sat in the caravan waiting, a furtive face appeared suddenly hair' long the window - with a huge beard and 'Psst!'he whispered. 'Over here! Come on!'

A"a ftit head dropped out ofsight' I went to the door ofthe caravan head i;; t'i* au'tiie b"tY-"q two cars' Againto the convince tried stranger ""d-;;;;;i;;t over here!'The dis=hevelled ".["i "olF."t!

I became genuinelv alarmed' wondering if fi;;;;t;;A;tbfr;t. tol"fto* I ftad been set up when I had barely arrived in the province' I rushed offinto the Departure/Arrival lounge and found the.Royal prstol r Coros of Transport NCO and borrowed his Browning 9mm

iffi"]f ;;A;i,';"y

"t" il;;-;;u"

and found the stranger lurking-in.the the Browning I asked him'Who the hell game-?'

Hi*and rnoved to his pocket and I told *ft.t's-your slowly andZarefully. He produced an out of date identity

""ti,

"fograih

iltttiU"r.-t"Tn" .u.-p"* ;it-;e;;;ld;""i"g tti*'*ittt V""."a ift" pt

on

wtrich bore no resemblance to him whatsoever'

32 I told him to leave - and do it slowly and carefully. I was convinced that my cover had been blown before I'd even starbed. To say the least, I was in a state of some agitation.

I caught the bue to Lieburn and asked round for my unit, but still,

apparently, no one had heard of it. Eventually I was directed to 12 Intelligence and Security Company, about 100 metres from the HQ building at Lisburn. I went in and introduced myself ta the 2 ilc Captain G and his CO, Major H. They told me they would do their best to find out exactly where I had to report. In the meantime I should try to get accommodation inthe Mess.

I could scarcely believe what was happening. At the Mess they told me there was no accommodation, but I could use one of the little caravans parked outside. No sooner had I started to unpack my things, than a knock came at the door, and when I opened it, standing in front of me was the bearded man from the docks.

'You stupid bastard! I drove all the way from Armagh to meet you,' he cried.

Once again, he produced the out of issue ID card. This time I looked at it properly. His name was Major C and he was the current MIO working at Armagh - the one I was sent to replace. It seemed incredible. But I didn't argue with him now. He had a Q car outside, and

toldmehewouldtake medownto seemyCO, ColonelD atKnock, the RUC HQ. At last I had made some kind of contact. And I kept thinking to myself, if this was some kind of test, what an absurd waste oftime!

Yet if I expected things to run smoothly from then on, it certainly wasn't the case. Colonel D was installed on an upper floor at Knock HQ: he remained distant and aloof throughout my first intâ&#x201A;Źrview with

him and gave me the impression that he was more an academic than a leader of men. He made a point of telling me that I should advise the resident Army Brigade only on information that might help them cooperate with the police on specific matters. Any other Intelligence I received was to go straight to him. I listened to his briefrng, then left with Major C to go down to Armagh, guarding my first impressions of the inter-service rivalry that would dominate my work for so long. I was dropped offat Gough Barracks, where again I tried to find some suitable accommodation. This time, however, I was reduced to a campbed in a lecture room, draping my clothes over a chair, and keeping my suitcase beside me. I settled down for the night, feeling none too pleased.

Mqjor C picked me up the next morning, and we drove to Armagh police station to meet the man I was meant to be working with. The abiding image I have of the RUC man in Armagh, is of a squat little Ulsterman, slightly flushed, with receding white hair, opening a filing cabinet, taking out a folder, holding it close to his chest as he glanced through it, then putting it back and locking the cabinet again. It soon

33 became clear to me (and this was backed up Mqjor C) that they were so eecretive and unwilling to delegate an5rthing that working with them would be an extremely frustrating experience! The impression was only strengthened when later that evening, after I had been driven round the area and taken for a drink in a village pub in Moira, the Sergeant with his two constables amazed me by getting drunk, climbing back into their car without the least sense ofpersonal security, and driving off along the roads of South Armagh as if the conflict was a figment of someone's imagination and there was nothing whatever to

fear.

During the week I spent learning the ropes from Major C, I began to how inadequate the Ashford training was. Major C seemed to have no idea of what he was doing, or why he was doing it. He had no office, no records, nothing. His main line of duty appeared to be visiting his girlfriend in Dungannon - a married woman who lived alone in her English husband's plush house while he worked across the water. He took me to meet her and implied that I should take her over when he left. But I had no taste for infrdelity, and certainly wasn't prepared to involve myself in anything that could be used against me. He struck me as a genuinely disillusioned man, with no loyalty to the system whatever; the disguise as a freelance artist of high temperament befrtted him better than he might have thought.

In spite of my circumbtances, I prepared to take over trying to set up my own frling system, so that at least when Major C left, I could get on with the job. Since he had no names or sour@s to give me I learned what I could from the police, and tried to add this information to what I had put together at Ashford. A week later, I was just beginning to think I had a basic familiarity with J Division area when the call came through from Knock HQ to tâ&#x201A;Źll me I wouldn't be working there after all! Everything I'd done so far was wasted.

Major C took me straight up to Colonel D again, and his 2 i/c M4jor J, see

a tall slender officer who later went on to serve in the Sultan of Oman's forces, in their equivalent of MI5. I went into the little office - next to

the Special Branch Commanders - and was immediately told that another MIO, Captain A, based at Portadown in K Division, had become a victim of the kind of inter-service rivalry I had already glimpsed for myself. Failing to obey D's dictum that MIOs worked principally for the RUC Special Branch and had only a secondary duty to HQ 3 Brigade, Captain A had been caught trying to pilfer information from police files. He had gone as far as to have obtained spare keys to the Special Branch oflices and frling cabinets at Portadown police station and had broken in after hours. Caught with police frles he was immediately escorted from the station andbanned from returning. Someone had to be brought in to take his place, and try to repair the damage caused to the already bad relations between Army and police. Since I had onlyjust arrived, and had yet to begin any serious work of my own, I was the obvious choice.

32 I told him to leave - and do it slowly and carefully. I was convinced that my cover had been blown before I'd even starbed. To say the least, I was in a state of some agitation.

I caught the bue to Lieburn and asked round for my unit, but still,

apparently, no one had heard of it. Eventually I was directed to 12 Intelligence and Security Company, about 100 metres from the HQ building at Lisburn. I went in and introduced myself ta the 2 ilc Captain G and his CO, Major H. They told me they would do their best to find out exactly where I had to report. In the meantime I should try to get accommodation inthe Mess.

I could scarcely believe what was happening. At the Mess they told me there was no accommodation, but I could use one of the little caravans parked outside. No sooner had I started to unpack my things, than a knock came at the door, and when I opened it, standing in front of me was the bearded man from the docks.

'You stupid bastard! I drove all the way from Armagh to meet you,' he cried.

Once again, he produced the out of issue ID card. This time I looked at it properly. His name was Major C and he was the current MIO working at Armagh - the one I was sent to replace. It seemed incredible. But I didn't argue with him now. He had a Q car outside, and

toldmehewouldtake medownto seemyCO, ColonelD atKnock, the RUC HQ. At last I had made some kind of contact. And I kept thinking to myself, if this was some kind of test, what an absurd waste oftime!

Yet if I expected things to run smoothly from then on, it certainly wasn't the case. Colonel D was installed on an upper floor at Knock HQ: he remained distant and aloof throughout my first intâ&#x201A;Źrview with

him and gave me the impression that he was more an academic than a leader of men. He made a point of telling me that I should advise the resident Army Brigade only on information that might help them cooperate with the police on specific matters. Any other Intelligence I received was to go straight to him. I listened to his briefrng, then left with Major C to go down to Armagh, guarding my first impressions of the inter-service rivalry that would dominate my work for so long. I was dropped offat Gough Barracks, where again I tried to find some suitable accommodation. This time, however, I was reduced to a campbed in a lecture room, draping my clothes over a chair, and keeping my suitcase beside me. I settled down for the night, feeling none too pleased.

Mqjor C picked me up the next morning, and we drove to Armagh police station to meet the man I was meant to be working with. The abiding image I have of the RUC man in Armagh, is of a squat little Ulsterman, slightly flushed, with receding white hair, opening a filing cabinet, taking out a folder, holding it close to his chest as he glanced through it, then putting it back and locking the cabinet again. It soon

33 became clear to me (and this was backed up Mqjor C) that they were so eecretive and unwilling to delegate an5rthing that working with them would be an extremely frustrating experience! The impression was only strengthened when later that evening, after I had been driven round the area and taken for a drink in a village pub in Moira, the Sergeant with his two constables amazed me by getting drunk, climbing back into their car without the least sense ofpersonal security, and driving off along the roads of South Armagh as if the conflict was a figment of someone's imagination and there was nothing whatever to

fear.

During the week I spent learning the ropes from Major C, I began to how inadequate the Ashford training was. Major C seemed to have no idea of what he was doing, or why he was doing it. He had no office, no records, nothing. His main line of duty appeared to be visiting his girlfriend in Dungannon - a married woman who lived alone in her English husband's plush house while he worked across the water. He took me to meet her and implied that I should take her over when he left. But I had no taste for infrdelity, and certainly wasn't prepared to involve myself in anything that could be used against me. He struck me as a genuinely disillusioned man, with no loyalty to the system whatever; the disguise as a freelance artist of high temperament befrtted him better than he might have thought.

In spite of my circumbtances, I prepared to take over trying to set up my own frling system, so that at least when Major C left, I could get on with the job. Since he had no names or sour@s to give me I learned what I could from the police, and tried to add this information to what I had put together at Ashford. A week later, I was just beginning to think I had a basic familiarity with J Division area when the call came through from Knock HQ to tâ&#x201A;Źll me I wouldn't be working there after all! Everything I'd done so far was wasted.

Major C took me straight up to Colonel D again, and his 2 i/c M4jor J, see

a tall slender officer who later went on to serve in the Sultan of Oman's forces, in their equivalent of MI5. I went into the little office - next to

the Special Branch Commanders - and was immediately told that another MIO, Captain A, based at Portadown in K Division, had become a victim of the kind of inter-service rivalry I had already glimpsed for myself. Failing to obey D's dictum that MIOs worked principally for the RUC Special Branch and had only a secondary duty to HQ 3 Brigade, Captain A had been caught trying to pilfer information from police files. He had gone as far as to have obtained spare keys to the Special Branch oflices and frling cabinets at Portadown police station and had broken in after hours. Caught with police frles he was immediately escorted from the station andbanned from returning. Someone had to be brought in to take his place, and try to repair the damage caused to the already bad relations between Army and police. Since I had onlyjust arrived, and had yet to begin any serious work of my own, I was the obvious choice.

35

34

I

drove my newly acquired Q car,

a

1300cc Ford Escort, to

Portadown. Major C had aCtually taken me to meet the Special Eranch

offrcers there aiouple ofdays after I arrived in the Province, so I knew

what to expect. Sut of course Captain A's actions on behalf of the Brigade meant a frosty welcome awaited me- I went into the brick buil"ding, and up some rickety stairs to the Special Branch off:ces' There iwas introduced again to Sergeant R, a smooth man, sitting behind his desk in a light grey suit smoking a cigarette througlr a holder. He smiled at me cyniially and said something to the effect that he thought they had got rid of MIOs for good.

Then he proceeded to tell me that I should come to the station twice a day: at fO.3O and 4.00. I should sit on a chair in the corridor and wait urrtit ne was ready to brief me. Then I should report back to the Army'

And that would be that. He was prepared to put up with me, only because those were his orders. For the first time since I had arrived I

gave ventto some ofmyfeelings aboutthe set-up. I saidtlatfromwhat so far, I wai not impressed by the Army's performance and ih.d "u"tt Captain A I had no doubts that my first loyalty lay with the that unlike Special Branci since that was stated in my written charter. I agree{ to pass no information back to Brigade that S-pecial Branch vetoed, and to lheck everything with him as a matter of course. Perhaps, I ask-ed in return, he mighf show me some confidence in time. By the way I was dismissed, this seemed a remote possibility' I now found myself in a situation where I had been ordered'to work in a totally new area, with instructions to try and clear up the mess left by

*y

predecessor, liaising with a policeman who seemed even less amenabl6 tttutt the Special Branch in Armagh. I would also have to look for somewhere else to live, and work.

My confrdence deteriotated further when I was summoned to Brigide HQ to meet the Bfigadier. Whenl arrived at the 3 Infantry Brilade Headquarters in Lurgan, I was told that I should frrst report to the"Intellige.tcb section otr the seventh floor of the sky_scraper bJilding known locilly as the Factory. There I met the Brigade Mqjor S, a tall good lookingbfftc"", who had been in Ireland earlier and, according to fiir o*tr sold=iers, at that time was not too popular. I was introduced to Captain (later Major) D, the General Staff Oflicer (Grade 3 Intelligence) - like the RUC offrcer Sergeant R, smooth as silk and also, like f,itn, a man who did all his work by telephone and rarely if ever

ven[ured into the hostile world. On the single occasion I recall Mqjor D appearing on the streets of Portadown, at a roadblock to check a frineral c6tt ge, both police and Army officers were so amazed they refused to believe there was a truce on with the IRA at the time' M4ior D was as blunt as Sergeant R had been - only he gave me exactlythe opposite order. According to him, my loyalty should lie. with the B:rigade. I was working in their area, therefore any Intelligence that catie .try *ay should go straight to them. I protested that both my CO,

Colonel D and Sergeant R had told me this was not the case at all. But Mqjor D said he didn't care what I had been told. These were my terms

ofreference.

And so to the Brigadier himself. Colonel G at Ashford had been a caricature of an English Offrcer, but he was no rival to the Brigadier. I wouldn't begin to question the Brigadier's capacity as an offrcer - he knew his stuff. But he came across as a blustering parody of Montgomery. He unfailingly referred to the Irish, even the RUC, as Bogwogs and the frst thing I noticed in his offrce was a plastic leprechaun sitting on a rock, set on a finely carved piece ofwood, with a small plaque bearing the inscription to the effect of: Lst Bogwog stone thrown at me in the Derry riots. ltris small, fierce man then launched into a staccato address, welcoming me to the area, and telling me that Mqjor D would let me know

exactly what to do. 'We're hoping for great things from you,

, Holroyd'. . . . and so on. He confirmed my worst fears about how the Army was operating in the Province, and my distate was reciprocated, since he always referred to me subsequently as the Tradesman behind my back, because I didn'tcome from a Cavalryor Guards regiment,but the Royal Corps ofTransport - and a grammar school boy at that!

Those who worked under him were plainly affected by his attitude.

After that first introduction, Major D took me back to his own office:

the Brigade Intelligence centre. Sitting in a corner, at separate desks, were two Staff O{ficers, one dealing with Protestant, the other with Catholic Intelligence. There was also a liaison officer for the SAS, and a number of clerks running to and fro. Major D pointed to an empty desk opposite the others. He told me that it had been Captain W's and that this was where I would be working from. I went across to look at it.

There was nothing in it - no records, no files. It was becoming a familiar story, and Major D offered no explanation. Once more, I gave vent to my feelings. I made it quite clear that as far as I was concerned, I didn't work from a desk at Brigade HQ nor was I under his command.

We had a few terse words there and then.

I assumed my Colonel at Knock would back me in this, and any other run-ins I might have with Brigade, since he had warned me to resist

any attempt to co--opt me into their establishment. There was no reason to think that this wouldn't be the case. I had no interest in the conJlicts between the various factions at work, each so desperate to claim what glimmers of success we were having in the war of Intell-

igence. They were prepared to compromise the general plan in order to enhance themselves. I had come here to do a particular job, if I was given the chance, and it seemed my terms of reference were quite plain.

Simply because 3 Infantry Brigade Headquarbers weren't prepared to accept that the RUC Special Branch should effectively control the flow of information, and decide when and how it should be acted on, and were ready to go as far as to rifle their frles to interfere with this, should

35

34

I

drove my newly acquired Q car,

a

1300cc Ford Escort, to

Portadown. Major C had aCtually taken me to meet the Special Eranch

offrcers there aiouple ofdays after I arrived in the Province, so I knew

what to expect. Sut of course Captain A's actions on behalf of the Brigade meant a frosty welcome awaited me- I went into the brick buil"ding, and up some rickety stairs to the Special Branch off:ces' There iwas introduced again to Sergeant R, a smooth man, sitting behind his desk in a light grey suit smoking a cigarette througlr a holder. He smiled at me cyniially and said something to the effect that he thought they had got rid of MIOs for good.

Then he proceeded to tell me that I should come to the station twice a day: at fO.3O and 4.00. I should sit on a chair in the corridor and wait urrtit ne was ready to brief me. Then I should report back to the Army'

And that would be that. He was prepared to put up with me, only because those were his orders. For the first time since I had arrived I

gave ventto some ofmyfeelings aboutthe set-up. I saidtlatfromwhat so far, I wai not impressed by the Army's performance and ih.d "u"tt Captain A I had no doubts that my first loyalty lay with the that unlike Special Branci since that was stated in my written charter. I agree{ to pass no information back to Brigade that S-pecial Branch vetoed, and to lheck everything with him as a matter of course. Perhaps, I ask-ed in return, he mighf show me some confidence in time. By the way I was dismissed, this seemed a remote possibility' I now found myself in a situation where I had been ordered'to work in a totally new area, with instructions to try and clear up the mess left by

*y

predecessor, liaising with a policeman who seemed even less amenabl6 tttutt the Special Branch in Armagh. I would also have to look for somewhere else to live, and work.

My confrdence deteriotated further when I was summoned to Brigide HQ to meet the Bfigadier. Whenl arrived at the 3 Infantry Brilade Headquarters in Lurgan, I was told that I should frrst report to the"Intellige.tcb section otr the seventh floor of the sky_scraper bJilding known locilly as the Factory. There I met the Brigade Mqjor S, a tall good lookingbfftc"", who had been in Ireland earlier and, according to fiir o*tr sold=iers, at that time was not too popular. I was introduced to Captain (later Major) D, the General Staff Oflicer (Grade 3 Intelligence) - like the RUC offrcer Sergeant R, smooth as silk and also, like f,itn, a man who did all his work by telephone and rarely if ever

ven[ured into the hostile world. On the single occasion I recall Mqjor D appearing on the streets of Portadown, at a roadblock to check a frineral c6tt ge, both police and Army officers were so amazed they refused to believe there was a truce on with the IRA at the time' M4ior D was as blunt as Sergeant R had been - only he gave me exactlythe opposite order. According to him, my loyalty should lie. with the B:rigade. I was working in their area, therefore any Intelligence that catie .try *ay should go straight to them. I protested that both my CO,

Colonel D and Sergeant R had told me this was not the case at all. But Mqjor D said he didn't care what I had been told. These were my terms

ofreference.

And so to the Brigadier himself. Colonel G at Ashford had been a caricature of an English Offrcer, but he was no rival to the Brigadier. I wouldn't begin to question the Brigadier's capacity as an offrcer - he knew his stuff. But he came across as a blustering parody of Montgomery. He unfailingly referred to the Irish, even the RUC, as Bogwogs and the frst thing I noticed in his offrce was a plastic leprechaun sitting on a rock, set on a finely carved piece ofwood, with a small plaque bearing the inscription to the effect of: Lst Bogwog stone thrown at me in the Derry riots. ltris small, fierce man then launched into a staccato address, welcoming me to the area, and telling me that Mqjor D would let me know

exactly what to do. 'We're hoping for great things from you,

, Holroyd'. . . . and so on. He confirmed my worst fears about how the Army was operating in the Province, and my distate was reciprocated, since he always referred to me subsequently as the Tradesman behind my back, because I didn'tcome from a Cavalryor Guards regiment,but the Royal Corps ofTransport - and a grammar school boy at that!

Those who worked under him were plainly affected by his attitude.

After that first introduction, Major D took me back to his own office:

the Brigade Intelligence centre. Sitting in a corner, at separate desks, were two Staff O{ficers, one dealing with Protestant, the other with Catholic Intelligence. There was also a liaison officer for the SAS, and a number of clerks running to and fro. Major D pointed to an empty desk opposite the others. He told me that it had been Captain W's and that this was where I would be working from. I went across to look at it.

There was nothing in it - no records, no files. It was becoming a familiar story, and Major D offered no explanation. Once more, I gave vent to my feelings. I made it quite clear that as far as I was concerned, I didn't work from a desk at Brigade HQ nor was I under his command.

We had a few terse words there and then.

I assumed my Colonel at Knock would back me in this, and any other run-ins I might have with Brigade, since he had warned me to resist

any attempt to co--opt me into their establishment. There was no reason to think that this wouldn't be the case. I had no interest in the conJlicts between the various factions at work, each so desperate to claim what glimmers of success we were having in the war of Intell-

igence. They were prepared to compromise the general plan in order to enhance themselves. I had come here to do a particular job, if I was given the chance, and it seemed my terms of reference were quite plain.

Simply because 3 Infantry Brigade Headquarbers weren't prepared to accept that the RUC Special Branch should effectively control the flow of information, and decide when and how it should be acted on, and were ready to go as far as to rifle their frles to interfere with this, should

37

36

just t_row cormpt some not make any difference to me. I had yet to learn been good reason have may how there and were, nuc orin" ;;d; gloups were terrorist Protestant for such interference, as far as tf,.e lt seemed io me to be more a question of simple rivalry. "o"""r"La. from' T\vo events occurred then that at least gave me a base to work I99ul{ in whom area, the men activeln and the chance to meet other

"""ftag ;-I;;f;

."d *tt" deserved respect. Once I had refused Major D's o{er of lh" C"igua" Intelligence Cell, I went down to Mahon Road

ut po""g.ao*'', wfrich was being rebuilt. I thought it might A;;b;; the office ofthe il..i";dlf,"a ifI coutd trarie an offrce there, adjacent tonext to the operbo*ir""a", of the resident Infantry Battalion and to their intellaccess give meimmediate which would

"""t", -dittua "tio"" n"lrt"ti"s.

As the offrces were still under construction there was i;;;;; solved one of my problems without too much ,i" "Ui"'Ji"".

N;;.ily, when I went back to tell Mqjor p we fa{ i;;;i;. llgth"T briefhim at

S;t I *o"fdft be moved by this, and left, promising to "ot". least once a day on whatever information came my way' This left me with one other difficulty' Since I had spurned the g"ig"iit ;ff"; oi a working space-, I co-uld trardly live^in -the, offigr.s' the HQ at Luigan. Here, I had a stroke of luck' I ran into *"t" f.""a ut -offt"""

I had hJt met whilst serving in Germanv'. with ;-w;;;t out on a number of *ft"* i ft.a .f*.is been friendly, and had helped just a new-row ol bought had Army thd that me toli occasions. He Becombra, a very pleasant estate, newly b-uilt on the outh;;; houses had been commanski"t" or'trPortadown, -*g.d" and tl.at while most staff, there were still two vacant. If I put a bid.in d;;;;tth" he w6dd make sure I got ong, and could move my family ;Lfti *i" .s possible. I went out to look at the houses, and they-were on'"t "*un. "" ftutta n'ew, and each as fine as anything a Brigadier *ight F i"ae"a his ;ff";;a i" G.rrnany. My former friend and colleague was a! good aswith couldjoin_me she Fionathat tell r"ghndto i" ;ft.i;;"crro-" mv she thought

I wasn't si,tptit d, given what lbou! "ttiiat"-". risks involved,that she reacted with little enthusiafln; ttte ."a i".ti"i

ift"

["tilE""gt t that once she had seen the quarters and we could resume *.*iZa hfe, that things would change' I was wrong, 9stheI thall Irish ""r But now, foi the first time since I had crossed ,froJi' "*pf.in. to feel I could start making my mark' Sea, I-began

R',s It was hard work. I would sit in the corridor outside sergeant would he moment for the waiting off*" Portadown police station, wrote *" - then receive a tight-lipped brie{ing,that-I d;g" "tt place''' a such ""u at seen was so-and--so .

Joti" i" t"y p.lice notebook .' so on' offI would go to ;t;;;;;tt"ck there was an incident ' ' ' andhumdrum material that such to them: back B;tgrd;, ."a r"ua it all

being observed. ;#t;; knew it was merely a qgestion of formalitiesjust as I had with area, new the myseliwith M#;hii" f familiariseil e-.*.gtt. i moved into the new oflice at Mahon Road, and began-to L"iia ip a"cent data system. No matter how it was being played' I

"

was determined to treat my role seriously. I don't know how successful I would have been, if I had been left on my own, but again, I had a stroke of luck. I found the men I was looking for.

Since I was no longer working from Armagh, Tony P, whom I had met at Ashford, would clearly no longer be my FINCO. Instead I had been introduced to Sergeant I, who had moved into the office with me at

Mahon Road. Sergeant I was a tremendously hard worker, with a flair for invention, and an undeniable courage, hidden under a self--effacing manner. He was with me on most of the operations carried out over the next eighteen months - and I was indebted to him in other ways, not least for his willingness to type up reports for me. He helped me to such an extent that we could best be described as partners in the enterprises that followed - an oflicer/NCO relationship much frowned upon at 3 Infantry Brigade HQ. Yet, if there is anyone who stands out in my memory as being representative of the British soldier at his best, it is Warrant Offrcer 'Bunny' Dearsley who supported me through my frrst months in Ireland, and was central to the success ofmy work. Sergeant B introduced us. Seeing how little joy I was getting from the police, and how keen I was to meet the MILO in Craigavon, with whom he himeelf had had contact when he had been working for Captain W, my predecessor.

I agreed at once, and so into my offrce came Bunny Dearsley.

Bunny was a Cockney Warrant Officer, near the end of his service. I took an immediate liking to him. He reminded me of the actor Arthur English, always with a cigarette in his frngers, and ready with a quick smile. He had served twenty two years, dating back to the war in Korea East End stock as the Krays and the - and came from the same them, had not deserted and turned to Richardsons, though unlike crime, but usedhis shrewdness in servinghiscountry. The situationin Ulster was perfect for him. He had been out already with his battalion in 197 l-7 2, in Lurgan, and had proved so adept at recruiting low grade sour@s unoffocially that he was assigned to the Lurgan police station as a Liaison Intelligence NCO, and had lived in a caravan outside, until the station was blownup by acarbomb andthe RUC movedtothe Town Hall. Whenever the police had been interrogating a suspect, Bunny would get hold of him on his way out, and instead of bullying or threatening the man, would offer him a cup of tea and a chat and get twice as much out of him. Bunny was then sent back to England, to go through the Intelligence course at Ashford, and posted again to Ireland in 1973 - to work ostensibly as the MILO in Craigavon though, in fact, as I soon discovered, his role was a great deal more significant than

that.

During those first weeks, however, I took him at face value, and was grateful for his advice and for the contacts he helped put my way.

Slowly things began to assume (some) cohesion and I got a good knowledge of the area. Portadown was then a major flashpoint in the

37

36

just t_row cormpt some not make any difference to me. I had yet to learn been good reason have may how there and were, nuc orin" ;;d; gloups were terrorist Protestant for such interference, as far as tf,.e lt seemed io me to be more a question of simple rivalry. "o"""r"La. from' T\vo events occurred then that at least gave me a base to work I99ul{ in whom area, the men activeln and the chance to meet other

"""ftag ;-I;;f;

."d *tt" deserved respect. Once I had refused Major D's o{er of lh" C"igua" Intelligence Cell, I went down to Mahon Road

ut po""g.ao*'', wfrich was being rebuilt. I thought it might A;;b;; the office ofthe il..i";dlf,"a ifI coutd trarie an offrce there, adjacent tonext to the operbo*ir""a", of the resident Infantry Battalion and to their intellaccess give meimmediate which would

"""t", -dittua "tio"" n"lrt"ti"s.

As the offrces were still under construction there was i;;;;; solved one of my problems without too much ,i" "Ui"'Ji"".

N;;.ily, when I went back to tell Mqjor p we fa{ i;;;i;. llgth"T briefhim at

S;t I *o"fdft be moved by this, and left, promising to "ot". least once a day on whatever information came my way' This left me with one other difficulty' Since I had spurned the g"ig"iit ;ff"; oi a working space-, I co-uld trardly live^in -the, offigr.s' the HQ at Luigan. Here, I had a stroke of luck' I ran into *"t" f.""a ut -offt"""

I had hJt met whilst serving in Germanv'. with ;-w;;;t out on a number of *ft"* i ft.a .f*.is been friendly, and had helped just a new-row ol bought had Army thd that me toli occasions. He Becombra, a very pleasant estate, newly b-uilt on the outh;;; houses had been commanski"t" or'trPortadown, -*g.d" and tl.at while most staff, there were still two vacant. If I put a bid.in d;;;;tth" he w6dd make sure I got ong, and could move my family ;Lfti *i" .s possible. I went out to look at the houses, and they-were on'"t "*un. "" ftutta n'ew, and each as fine as anything a Brigadier *ight F i"ae"a his ;ff";;a i" G.rrnany. My former friend and colleague was a! good aswith couldjoin_me she Fionathat tell r"ghndto i" ;ft.i;;"crro-" mv she thought

I wasn't si,tptit d, given what lbou! "ttiiat"-". risks involved,that she reacted with little enthusiafln; ttte ."a i".ti"i

ift"

["tilE""gt t that once she had seen the quarters and we could resume *.*iZa hfe, that things would change' I was wrong, 9stheI thall Irish ""r But now, foi the first time since I had crossed ,froJi' "*pf.in. to feel I could start making my mark' Sea, I-began

R',s It was hard work. I would sit in the corridor outside sergeant would he moment for the waiting off*" Portadown police station, wrote *" - then receive a tight-lipped brie{ing,that-I d;g" "tt place''' a such ""u at seen was so-and--so .

Joti" i" t"y p.lice notebook .' so on' offI would go to ;t;;;;;tt"ck there was an incident ' ' ' andhumdrum material that such to them: back B;tgrd;, ."a r"ua it all

being observed. ;#t;; knew it was merely a qgestion of formalitiesjust as I had with area, new the myseliwith M#;hii" f familiariseil e-.*.gtt. i moved into the new oflice at Mahon Road, and began-to L"iia ip a"cent data system. No matter how it was being played' I

"

was determined to treat my role seriously. I don't know how successful I would have been, if I had been left on my own, but again, I had a stroke of luck. I found the men I was looking for.

Since I was no longer working from Armagh, Tony P, whom I had met at Ashford, would clearly no longer be my FINCO. Instead I had been introduced to Sergeant I, who had moved into the office with me at

Mahon Road. Sergeant I was a tremendously hard worker, with a flair for invention, and an undeniable courage, hidden under a self--effacing manner. He was with me on most of the operations carried out over the next eighteen months - and I was indebted to him in other ways, not least for his willingness to type up reports for me. He helped me to such an extent that we could best be described as partners in the enterprises that followed - an oflicer/NCO relationship much frowned upon at 3 Infantry Brigade HQ. Yet, if there is anyone who stands out in my memory as being representative of the British soldier at his best, it is Warrant Offrcer 'Bunny' Dearsley who supported me through my frrst months in Ireland, and was central to the success ofmy work. Sergeant B introduced us. Seeing how little joy I was getting from the police, and how keen I was to meet the MILO in Craigavon, with whom he himeelf had had contact when he had been working for Captain W, my predecessor.

I agreed at once, and so into my offrce came Bunny Dearsley.

Bunny was a Cockney Warrant Officer, near the end of his service. I took an immediate liking to him. He reminded me of the actor Arthur English, always with a cigarette in his frngers, and ready with a quick smile. He had served twenty two years, dating back to the war in Korea East End stock as the Krays and the - and came from the same them, had not deserted and turned to Richardsons, though unlike crime, but usedhis shrewdness in servinghiscountry. The situationin Ulster was perfect for him. He had been out already with his battalion in 197 l-7 2, in Lurgan, and had proved so adept at recruiting low grade sour@s unoffocially that he was assigned to the Lurgan police station as a Liaison Intelligence NCO, and had lived in a caravan outside, until the station was blownup by acarbomb andthe RUC movedtothe Town Hall. Whenever the police had been interrogating a suspect, Bunny would get hold of him on his way out, and instead of bullying or threatening the man, would offer him a cup of tea and a chat and get twice as much out of him. Bunny was then sent back to England, to go through the Intelligence course at Ashford, and posted again to Ireland in 1973 - to work ostensibly as the MILO in Craigavon though, in fact, as I soon discovered, his role was a great deal more significant than

that.

During those first weeks, however, I took him at face value, and was grateful for his advice and for the contacts he helped put my way.

Slowly things began to assume (some) cohesion and I got a good knowledge of the area. Portadown was then a major flashpoint in the

38

troubles and there were covert actions by the ulster volunteer Force.

Also there were a number of catholic estates where a series of serious incidents had taken place. In contrast, Lurgan was notorious for its Republican elements - while Craigavon, the new town built between the two, also had a reputation for IRA activity. Around -these towns^ was typical Irish countryside, dotted with villages and farms, -all. of which were categorised according to their sympathies, and listed with any incidents asiociated with them, individuals and their histories, eti. Bunny kept a desk in our office at Mahon Road, and so was q!19 to fill in a loi of detail from his side of things. Meanwhile he lived with his wife at Craigavon - and she too proved a valuable source of information, relayld from the patrols for whom she made tea, and other bits of local gossip she managed to pick up.

Initially, I only handled fairly low grade material' The information I gave to ttie Army from the RUC principally concerned the activities of Jympathisers, criminal acts that could be associated with those in-

vbt"la in sectarian violence, and reports of actual terrorist attacks from the police angle. In return, I informed the RUC of the Army's activity in the area, and any Intelligence on terrorists and sympath-

isers tliey had managed to gain through their own means. Beyond this, I began io use *y own initiative, given confidence by my association with Bunny and Sergeant I.

So at last I had a base. My wife and family moved into Becombra, but the enthusiasm I had hoped I could kindle in Fiona never materialised.

I was delighted to be with my children again, but I soon realised the tension in my marriage was simply not going to go away. As it turned out, the new situation ofthe quarters only exacerbated our problems, since we were surrounded by offrcers from 3 Brigade HQ who worked at their desks all day in a secure environment and went to and from their homes with an Army escort. Once Fiona had settled in and began mixing socially with these offrcers'wives, her resentment at my enthusiasm for active service which was now manifested in the dangerous and secretive work of military intelligence only increased. Their lifestyle was necessarily very different from ours, and I can quite understand how she envied them. I tried very hard to compensate for what she regarded as selfishness, but so long as I remained dedicated to my work, it seemed it would prove an endless source of conflict.

Nonetheless, from the day she arrived, I still retained the hope that we could find some means of compromise, but I had little time to listen sympathetically to her concerns and I felt resentful when I thought of tle Brigade Officers who were considered to be so clever for collecting Northein Ireland campaign medals without taking the least risk or ever discovering what it was like to go out into the community itself. It was community that I had to work in, and learn to understand, if I was to be successful in gathering Intelligence.

4

MILITARY INTELLIGENCE The key element in the work of a MIO is the ability to respond instantly to information received, and to follow it up without delay' That is not to say there is no routine. In fact, I soon settled down to regular nattgrn going into Mahon Road mid-morning, and seeing what the Army had

6een getting up to by checking through their logs and spea\ing to various peofle; reporting to the police station, and afterwards, driving down to Brigade HQ to give them a full briefing. After lunch, I would meet up with Bunny Dearsley and exchange material. Sometimes, after my second visit to the police station, I would brief HQ ag4in. And' once a month, there was a detailed breakdown ofevents to be delivered.

Otherwise the early evening period would be spent with Bgnny q1d Sgt. I, patrolling seirsitive aieas, then coming back to the office to frle cirds on various individuals, type up reports and so on. I frnished work, generally, after midnight, in order to be able to respond effectively to activitiei after dark - more often, at about two in the morning' If any incidents occurred after that which was rare - we would listen to police messages on the Storno radios we kept beside us. Bunny and I also-used to work out where the scene of certain bombs had been simply by contacting one another after hearing the blast, and using basic triangulation methods arrive there before anyone else! Unlike Bunny, I used to turn my radio off. But he drove everyone around him crazy by listening continually to those disembodied voices, -piercin-g the 'squelchl which like a badcase oftinnitus, one learned only to endure.

This, then, was the routine. And I suppose it is one that I would have followed or the next three years, slowly trying to gain the confidence of the police, and perhaps on the odd occasion managing to come up with some importanl InteUigence of my own. But, no sooner had I begun to grow used to this rather limited role, than everything changed for me once agarn.

During these frrst few months the sources ot intbrmation that had come my way were distinctly low-grade' and the most dramatic incident -.s a. occasion at Brigade HQ Lurgan, when a RPGT grenade was launched at the Factory and blerv a hole in the wall. I remember peering through the shattered brickwork. with the heat marks radiat-

38

troubles and there were covert actions by the ulster volunteer Force.

Also there were a number of catholic estates where a series of serious incidents had taken place. In contrast, Lurgan was notorious for its Republican elements - while Craigavon, the new town built between the two, also had a reputation for IRA activity. Around -these towns^ was typical Irish countryside, dotted with villages and farms, -all. of which were categorised according to their sympathies, and listed with any incidents asiociated with them, individuals and their histories, eti. Bunny kept a desk in our office at Mahon Road, and so was q!19 to fill in a loi of detail from his side of things. Meanwhile he lived with his wife at Craigavon - and she too proved a valuable source of information, relayld from the patrols for whom she made tea, and other bits of local gossip she managed to pick up.

Initially, I only handled fairly low grade material' The information I gave to ttie Army from the RUC principally concerned the activities of Jympathisers, criminal acts that could be associated with those in-

vbt"la in sectarian violence, and reports of actual terrorist attacks from the police angle. In return, I informed the RUC of the Army's activity in the area, and any Intelligence on terrorists and sympath-

isers tliey had managed to gain through their own means. Beyond this, I began io use *y own initiative, given confidence by my association with Bunny and Sergeant I.

So at last I had a base. My wife and family moved into Becombra, but the enthusiasm I had hoped I could kindle in Fiona never materialised.

I was delighted to be with my children again, but I soon realised the tension in my marriage was simply not going to go away. As it turned out, the new situation ofthe quarters only exacerbated our problems, since we were surrounded by offrcers from 3 Brigade HQ who worked at their desks all day in a secure environment and went to and from their homes with an Army escort. Once Fiona had settled in and began mixing socially with these offrcers'wives, her resentment at my enthusiasm for active service which was now manifested in the dangerous and secretive work of military intelligence only increased. Their lifestyle was necessarily very different from ours, and I can quite understand how she envied them. I tried very hard to compensate for what she regarded as selfishness, but so long as I remained dedicated to my work, it seemed it would prove an endless source of conflict.

Nonetheless, from the day she arrived, I still retained the hope that we could find some means of compromise, but I had little time to listen sympathetically to her concerns and I felt resentful when I thought of tle Brigade Officers who were considered to be so clever for collecting Northein Ireland campaign medals without taking the least risk or ever discovering what it was like to go out into the community itself. It was community that I had to work in, and learn to understand, if I was to be successful in gathering Intelligence.

4

MILITARY INTELLIGENCE The key element in the work of a MIO is the ability to respond instantly to information received, and to follow it up without delay' That is not to say there is no routine. In fact, I soon settled down to regular nattgrn going into Mahon Road mid-morning, and seeing what the Army had

6een getting up to by checking through their logs and spea\ing to various peofle; reporting to the police station, and afterwards, driving down to Brigade HQ to give them a full briefing. After lunch, I would meet up with Bunny Dearsley and exchange material. Sometimes, after my second visit to the police station, I would brief HQ ag4in. And' once a month, there was a detailed breakdown ofevents to be delivered.

Otherwise the early evening period would be spent with Bgnny q1d Sgt. I, patrolling seirsitive aieas, then coming back to the office to frle cirds on various individuals, type up reports and so on. I frnished work, generally, after midnight, in order to be able to respond effectively to activitiei after dark - more often, at about two in the morning' If any incidents occurred after that which was rare - we would listen to police messages on the Storno radios we kept beside us. Bunny and I also-used to work out where the scene of certain bombs had been simply by contacting one another after hearing the blast, and using basic triangulation methods arrive there before anyone else! Unlike Bunny, I used to turn my radio off. But he drove everyone around him crazy by listening continually to those disembodied voices, -piercin-g the 'squelchl which like a badcase oftinnitus, one learned only to endure.

This, then, was the routine. And I suppose it is one that I would have followed or the next three years, slowly trying to gain the confidence of the police, and perhaps on the odd occasion managing to come up with some importanl InteUigence of my own. But, no sooner had I begun to grow used to this rather limited role, than everything changed for me once agarn.

During these frrst few months the sources ot intbrmation that had come my way were distinctly low-grade' and the most dramatic incident -.s a. occasion at Brigade HQ Lurgan, when a RPGT grenade was launched at the Factory and blerv a hole in the wall. I remember peering through the shattered brickwork. with the heat marks radiat-

41

40

ing round it, at the whole vista of the Catholic estate in the distance, arirl for the drst time realising just what it meant to be here in Ireland.

It redoubled my sense of personal security, so that my checks on- my car, the drills I followed when I was driving round the area - never let a

molor--cyclist pass you, always use minor roads if possible, and so on were kept to with the utmost diligence.

I believe this was why I was chosen to work for MI6. One evening Bunny came into the oflice and asked me if I would do him a favour' He tiui Sgt. I needed someone to drive a car for them and not ask "aia questions.

Ilmmediately pointed out that I was the officer and he the NCO, and that I was hardly going to act as their chauffeur' Bunny simpiy nodded, and said that any closer working relationship between ,t" *onldtt't be possible, if that was my feeling. There was something quite unusual in his attitude, so I changed my mind and agreed to do as he asked. On that occasion, I drove through a night ofpouring rain and parked on the outskirts ofa Republican area oflurgan. Bunny and Sgt I went offacross the fields. They were away for twenty minutes or so' There was no shooting or anything like that' They came back to the car, andwe drove offagain.

There were two other such occasions. On the latter, they actually asked me to drive onto the Kilwilkie esiate - one of the most dangerous enclaves of all - and wait while they went into some flats there. I felt I couldn't put my life at risk any longer for something I didn't even understand, so I asked what was going on. The response surprisedme more than I could have imagined. Bunny said that he had talked to various people and there was no reason why I shouldn't know what it was all about. Mo"e than that, if I agreed, I could actually take on the work myself since he would soon be coming to the end of his tour. I still didn't know what he meant. But then he told me plainly -'We want you to work for MI6. I'll take you to see my boss as soon as possible'.

I realised at once that this would put me in a wholy new position' I would have the authority to by-pass many of the obstacles that had been put in my way. I would gain immediate access to top gra$e *oor"6", since ivII6 only concerned themselves with top grade intelli gence; and sitting wai[ing like a schoolboy outside Sergeant R's offrce ivould become a mere memory. Yet I was also awaril that this would make my position regarding the Brigade even more dilficult. I was determined I should do everything by the board, so that if there were to be any trouble no one could accuse me of duplicity.

So it was that when Bunny took me to Northern Ireland HQ to see 'his boss' my attitude was quite uncompromising. We went up the Security Corridor at the top ofthe building. A guard opened-the metal gate foi us, and Bunny took me down to a door at the far end' A iecretary then led us into a large, comfortable offrce. Awaiting us was craig smellie who introduced himself to me as the 'Political officer reminded me of Arthur Bt here'. He was a big, rotund man - if Bunny heref Elnslish perfect Robert Morlevy - dressed in Smellie was the oerfect then Sme-Jlie English, thpn

tweeds with ayellow waistcoat, with a monocle hangingoverhis lapel.

His manner was charming, expansive. He began at once to tell me how Bunny had been working for him, and how he had been looking round for some time for a suitable replacement. Just as Dearsley worked as a MILO to preserve his cover, so I should continue to work as a MIO-but whatever doubts may have exist€d before about my primary responsibility would now be removed. I would be in the freld to gatn lntelligence for MI6 and both the Army and the police would be required to cooperate. fn a sense, I would be working directly to the top.

I was flattered, but answered at once that I didn't think I could agree to anything unless I discussed it frrst with my CO, Colonel D. Smellie demurred, saying he would rather Colonel D was told nothing about it.

When I insisted, he told me to go away for a few days and think about it.

I duly went to see Colonel D the next day. He and his eecond in command were together in the offrce at Knock when I told them how

Smellie had approached me. Colonel D was delighted - and I soon discovered why. He immediately told me I should deliver secret copies of everything that came my way straight to him. Just as I had protested at Smellie's demands for thie kind of secrecy, I did so now to Colonel D. He too, seemed dissatisfied with my attitude. My only option, since I determined to play it all by the book, was to go back to Smellie in turn, tell him what I had done and leave any decision up to him. This I did, informing him of Colonel D's response. To my surprise, Smellie simply laughed, and without any hesitation picked up the phone to the Colonel and talked things out with him there and then. It was quickly agreed that I strould be recruited, but that I should submit duplicates of all my reports to my unit based at Knock. For once, I saw how there could be genuine cooperation in the best interests of everyone involved.

Over the next few days Bunny Dearsley briefed me on the details of his work. It transformed my image of the province, and just what was going on there for I was no longer on the outside looking in, but actively involved. Bunny had been working two vitally important sources, on either side of the border who were responsible for a substantial part of the Intelligence which led to the identification and apprehension of IRA terrorists.

The frrst had a particular code name which I shall not use here, but instead refer to as 'Dreamcoat'. He was a senior offrcer in the Provisional IRA, who had been recruited, or'turned'as so many Republicans have been, as a result ofa personal grievance. This involved a period spent in hospital, where the first contact was made.

At that stage, Dreamcoat was a very frightened man, and the frrst thing he asked of Bunny was whether he could arrange protection for himself and his family for the following week or so; until he was sure that they were safe. Bunny agreed at once to go into his house, (disguised as a tramp and hidden in the back ofa van) and stay twenty-

t

41

40

ing round it, at the whole vista of the Catholic estate in the distance, arirl for the drst time realising just what it meant to be here in Ireland.

It redoubled my sense of personal security, so that my checks on- my car, the drills I followed when I was driving round the area - never let a

molor--cyclist pass you, always use minor roads if possible, and so on were kept to with the utmost diligence.

I believe this was why I was chosen to work for MI6. One evening Bunny came into the oflice and asked me if I would do him a favour' He tiui Sgt. I needed someone to drive a car for them and not ask "aia questions.

Ilmmediately pointed out that I was the officer and he the NCO, and that I was hardly going to act as their chauffeur' Bunny simpiy nodded, and said that any closer working relationship between ,t" *onldtt't be possible, if that was my feeling. There was something quite unusual in his attitude, so I changed my mind and agreed to do as he asked. On that occasion, I drove through a night ofpouring rain and parked on the outskirts ofa Republican area oflurgan. Bunny and Sgt I went offacross the fields. They were away for twenty minutes or so' There was no shooting or anything like that' They came back to the car, andwe drove offagain.

There were two other such occasions. On the latter, they actually asked me to drive onto the Kilwilkie esiate - one of the most dangerous enclaves of all - and wait while they went into some flats there. I felt I couldn't put my life at risk any longer for something I didn't even understand, so I asked what was going on. The response surprisedme more than I could have imagined. Bunny said that he had talked to various people and there was no reason why I shouldn't know what it was all about. Mo"e than that, if I agreed, I could actually take on the work myself since he would soon be coming to the end of his tour. I still didn't know what he meant. But then he told me plainly -'We want you to work for MI6. I'll take you to see my boss as soon as possible'.

I realised at once that this would put me in a wholy new position' I would have the authority to by-pass many of the obstacles that had been put in my way. I would gain immediate access to top gra$e *oor"6", since ivII6 only concerned themselves with top grade intelli gence; and sitting wai[ing like a schoolboy outside Sergeant R's offrce ivould become a mere memory. Yet I was also awaril that this would make my position regarding the Brigade even more dilficult. I was determined I should do everything by the board, so that if there were to be any trouble no one could accuse me of duplicity.

So it was that when Bunny took me to Northern Ireland HQ to see 'his boss' my attitude was quite uncompromising. We went up the Security Corridor at the top ofthe building. A guard opened-the metal gate foi us, and Bunny took me down to a door at the far end' A iecretary then led us into a large, comfortable offrce. Awaiting us was craig smellie who introduced himself to me as the 'Political officer reminded me of Arthur Bt here'. He was a big, rotund man - if Bunny heref Elnslish perfect Robert Morlevy - dressed in Smellie was the oerfect then Sme-Jlie English, thpn

tweeds with ayellow waistcoat, with a monocle hangingoverhis lapel.

His manner was charming, expansive. He began at once to tell me how Bunny had been working for him, and how he had been looking round for some time for a suitable replacement. Just as Dearsley worked as a MILO to preserve his cover, so I should continue to work as a MIO-but whatever doubts may have exist€d before about my primary responsibility would now be removed. I would be in the freld to gatn lntelligence for MI6 and both the Army and the police would be required to cooperate. fn a sense, I would be working directly to the top.

I was flattered, but answered at once that I didn't think I could agree to anything unless I discussed it frrst with my CO, Colonel D. Smellie demurred, saying he would rather Colonel D was told nothing about it.

When I insisted, he told me to go away for a few days and think about it.

I duly went to see Colonel D the next day. He and his eecond in command were together in the offrce at Knock when I told them how

Smellie had approached me. Colonel D was delighted - and I soon discovered why. He immediately told me I should deliver secret copies of everything that came my way straight to him. Just as I had protested at Smellie's demands for thie kind of secrecy, I did so now to Colonel D. He too, seemed dissatisfied with my attitude. My only option, since I determined to play it all by the book, was to go back to Smellie in turn, tell him what I had done and leave any decision up to him. This I did, informing him of Colonel D's response. To my surprise, Smellie simply laughed, and without any hesitation picked up the phone to the Colonel and talked things out with him there and then. It was quickly agreed that I strould be recruited, but that I should submit duplicates of all my reports to my unit based at Knock. For once, I saw how there could be genuine cooperation in the best interests of everyone involved.

Over the next few days Bunny Dearsley briefed me on the details of his work. It transformed my image of the province, and just what was going on there for I was no longer on the outside looking in, but actively involved. Bunny had been working two vitally important sources, on either side of the border who were responsible for a substantial part of the Intelligence which led to the identification and apprehension of IRA terrorists.

The frrst had a particular code name which I shall not use here, but instead refer to as 'Dreamcoat'. He was a senior offrcer in the Provisional IRA, who had been recruited, or'turned'as so many Republicans have been, as a result ofa personal grievance. This involved a period spent in hospital, where the first contact was made.

At that stage, Dreamcoat was a very frightened man, and the frrst thing he asked of Bunny was whether he could arrange protection for himself and his family for the following week or so; until he was sure that they were safe. Bunny agreed at once to go into his house, (disguised as a tramp and hidden in the back ofa van) and stay twenty-

t

43

42

four hours a day until Dreamcoat could frnd out what was going on'In fact Bunny stayed only frve days - and when he came out, he had a whole mound of IntelHgence on the activities of the IRA in Lurgan, Portadown and all the outlying areas, including the housing estates by the l-ough Shore, where information until this time had been very limited: names of individuals involved, sites where weapons were hidden, who was running them, and where they were coming from: the

whole Lackground to Dreamcoat's Battalion. Dreamcoat had also supplied him with the names of others, who had similar grievances,

but were less well placed in the organisation.

From then on, there was barely any movement in the area that wasn't known about within an hour of its planning: who was travelling, where, in what transport, and along which routes.

When I was recuited into MI6, Dreamcoat was still giving us the most valuable information, but was clever enough to maintain his cover within the Provisionals. I met him, with Bunny, and we grew to like and respect one another. I think I always remember him for one incident in p-articular. TVo men had come up from the south and were hiairrg ott Lousing estate in Craigavon. Dreamcoat didn't really know' " to describe the spot on the map, so we dressed him up as a exactly how Britisfi soldier, with helmel and goggles, and set him on top,of a saracen armouredcaffierbehindthe machine gun. we then setoffinto craigavon, and he was able todirect the driver right to the doorof the hous6 where the 'boys'were staying, so that all the soldiers had to do was run in and grabihem. Ifhewanted revenge forwhathadbeendone to him, I think that day he got it.

Dreamcoat was responsible for delivering into our hands two RPG 7's, along with countless bombs and explosives-. He personally lut the fi"g"" oi the Heaney bomb team, wJro were all arrested' Mr Heaney tat6r died in prison, and there was a big fuss about his innocence. But I was keenly involved in that operation, and absolutely 9ur9 tlat,the right peopie were picked up. More than this, Dreamcoat had relatives

in"thd South, serving in the Eire Army, and he was able to frx up contacts, particularly between the British and the Irish bomb disposal teams, *hich l"d to i number of successful operations - though here,

['m afraid, the nature of the'success'needs some qualification' Bunny had recruited someone of inestimable value in the Intellisence war. But this was not his only coup. Through various contacts, including Dreamcoat himself, Bunny was able to move across the border, alnd gather substantial Intelligence in Eire. His chief source there was a detective in County Monaghan, whose codename was the Badger. I first met the Badger shortly after I had been recruited into

asked me to gJout on another ofhis clandestine expeditions. Onlyihis time he told me we were actually going into thesouth. I was shocked at the time, but he said it had all been agreed at the highest level, and I had nothing to worry about. Knowing the attitude

wfiOlno""y

I wasn't so sure. But there was no point in my protesting. We duly crossed the border (passed through by the Garda, who knew of our visit) and drove on to Monaghan police station. We arrived at about halfpast nine in the evening. Bunny went into the station, and some time later returned with the policeman. He introduced me by name, thoughheused onlythe Gardaman's codename. He told the Badger that I worked with him now, and that when he left Ireland, it would be my job to take over all his sources. We talked for a while, and then the Badger handed over a file containing intelligence material, which we took back north with us.

Such meetings became a frequent part of my work. The Badger furnished us with Intelligence on the movements and whereabouts of countless Republicans in the south, profiles on IRSP members, projected excursions into the north by wanted terrorists we could never otherwise have got our hands on. Just as importantly, he arranged 'clearance' on a number of occasions when cross-border operations were due to take place. In other words, he ensured that no undercover British team, or anyone acting on British orders, should come face to face with a Garda patrol of any kind. It is barely conceivable that the Badger - and the others who met us regularly during that period could have worked with us in such a way, unknown to their superiors.

Their motivation never became wholly clear to me, and their involveof 3 Brigade HQ,

ment with us necessarily opens up a much more profound and complicated theme than the'turning'of Dreamcoat and other sources in the

north.

But during those first months in the Spring of 1974 I was not

concerned about such matters. I was gaining genuinely useful sources, with the authority of the'political office' behind me. There were two who principally engaged me - both female, both living in Republican strongholds. Each had a codename which, again, I have altered, along with certain details, to protect them.

Forlorn Hope was an attractive woman with various familial connections to the Provisionals, north and south of the border. Her recruitment came about through the indiscretion of a captain on attachment from the Royal Engineers to the Infantry stationed in the Portadown/Lurgan area. One morning, he was manning a roadblock on the Catholic estate which came under a torrent of abuse from a young woman leaning out of a nearby window. Breaking all the rules, he went into the house to give her a ticking off. Instead they were almostimmediately infatuated with each other. They agreed to meet secretly a few nights later and a clandestine affair began.

Folorn Hope was engaged to be married, but her fiance had been working over the water for some time, and she was living unhappily with her parents. The officer decided he was on to a good thing, and arranged with her to obtain a flat in the neighbourhood. She furnished itwith a bed and an armchairandwhenever itwas possible, he ordered

43

42

four hours a day until Dreamcoat could frnd out what was going on'In fact Bunny stayed only frve days - and when he came out, he had a whole mound of IntelHgence on the activities of the IRA in Lurgan, Portadown and all the outlying areas, including the housing estates by the l-ough Shore, where information until this time had been very limited: names of individuals involved, sites where weapons were hidden, who was running them, and where they were coming from: the

whole Lackground to Dreamcoat's Battalion. Dreamcoat had also supplied him with the names of others, who had similar grievances,

but were less well placed in the organisation.

From then on, there was barely any movement in the area that wasn't known about within an hour of its planning: who was travelling, where, in what transport, and along which routes.

When I was recuited into MI6, Dreamcoat was still giving us the most valuable information, but was clever enough to maintain his cover within the Provisionals. I met him, with Bunny, and we grew to like and respect one another. I think I always remember him for one incident in p-articular. TVo men had come up from the south and were hiairrg ott Lousing estate in Craigavon. Dreamcoat didn't really know' " to describe the spot on the map, so we dressed him up as a exactly how Britisfi soldier, with helmel and goggles, and set him on top,of a saracen armouredcaffierbehindthe machine gun. we then setoffinto craigavon, and he was able todirect the driver right to the doorof the hous6 where the 'boys'were staying, so that all the soldiers had to do was run in and grabihem. Ifhewanted revenge forwhathadbeendone to him, I think that day he got it.

Dreamcoat was responsible for delivering into our hands two RPG 7's, along with countless bombs and explosives-. He personally lut the fi"g"" oi the Heaney bomb team, wJro were all arrested' Mr Heaney tat6r died in prison, and there was a big fuss about his innocence. But I was keenly involved in that operation, and absolutely 9ur9 tlat,the right peopie were picked up. More than this, Dreamcoat had relatives

in"thd South, serving in the Eire Army, and he was able to frx up contacts, particularly between the British and the Irish bomb disposal teams, *hich l"d to i number of successful operations - though here,

['m afraid, the nature of the'success'needs some qualification' Bunny had recruited someone of inestimable value in the Intellisence war. But this was not his only coup. Through various contacts, including Dreamcoat himself, Bunny was able to move across the border, alnd gather substantial Intelligence in Eire. His chief source there was a detective in County Monaghan, whose codename was the Badger. I first met the Badger shortly after I had been recruited into

asked me to gJout on another ofhis clandestine expeditions. Onlyihis time he told me we were actually going into thesouth. I was shocked at the time, but he said it had all been agreed at the highest level, and I had nothing to worry about. Knowing the attitude

wfiOlno""y

I wasn't so sure. But there was no point in my protesting. We duly crossed the border (passed through by the Garda, who knew of our visit) and drove on to Monaghan police station. We arrived at about halfpast nine in the evening. Bunny went into the station, and some time later returned with the policeman. He introduced me by name, thoughheused onlythe Gardaman's codename. He told the Badger that I worked with him now, and that when he left Ireland, it would be my job to take over all his sources. We talked for a while, and then the Badger handed over a file containing intelligence material, which we took back north with us.

Such meetings became a frequent part of my work. The Badger furnished us with Intelligence on the movements and whereabouts of countless Republicans in the south, profiles on IRSP members, projected excursions into the north by wanted terrorists we could never otherwise have got our hands on. Just as importantly, he arranged 'clearance' on a number of occasions when cross-border operations were due to take place. In other words, he ensured that no undercover British team, or anyone acting on British orders, should come face to face with a Garda patrol of any kind. It is barely conceivable that the Badger - and the others who met us regularly during that period could have worked with us in such a way, unknown to their superiors.

Their motivation never became wholly clear to me, and their involveof 3 Brigade HQ,

ment with us necessarily opens up a much more profound and complicated theme than the'turning'of Dreamcoat and other sources in the

north.

But during those first months in the Spring of 1974 I was not

concerned about such matters. I was gaining genuinely useful sources, with the authority of the'political office' behind me. There were two who principally engaged me - both female, both living in Republican strongholds. Each had a codename which, again, I have altered, along with certain details, to protect them.

Forlorn Hope was an attractive woman with various familial connections to the Provisionals, north and south of the border. Her recruitment came about through the indiscretion of a captain on attachment from the Royal Engineers to the Infantry stationed in the Portadown/Lurgan area. One morning, he was manning a roadblock on the Catholic estate which came under a torrent of abuse from a young woman leaning out of a nearby window. Breaking all the rules, he went into the house to give her a ticking off. Instead they were almostimmediately infatuated with each other. They agreed to meet secretly a few nights later and a clandestine affair began.

Folorn Hope was engaged to be married, but her fiance had been working over the water for some time, and she was living unhappily with her parents. The officer decided he was on to a good thing, and arranged with her to obtain a flat in the neighbourhood. She furnished itwith a bed and an armchairandwhenever itwas possible, he ordered

44

his soldiers to guard the flat, while he had sex with the yourtg woman,

telling his soldiers he was using her as an intelligence source.

It was Mrs Dearsley who first heard all about this through her

'teastop'grapevine. She told Bunny, and we decided at once to challenge the offrcer. He was so frightened his career would be ruined, especially since he was on detachment to another unit, he tried to bluff his way out with us, using the excuse of some kind of private intelligence work. He told us of Folorn Hope's connections. After discussing the matter, we decided the best course of action would be to call his bluff. We asked him to get answers to ten questions about the Monaghan area (who was there, what they were doing, etc.) and come back to us. Ifhe failed, I would report him for abusing his authority.

He returned to us with most of the answers we expected. We then went directly to MI6, and asked for authority to recruit Folorn Hope.

This offrcer was then instructed from the political offrce to be assigned to work directly for us. This, ofcourse, rekindled all the latent antagonism within the Brigade. The Colonel of the Battalion was furious, since no one had either consulted him, or indeed even thought of doing so. He was an ex-SAS man, and not the kind to take this sort of treatment without seeking to redress the balance. However, no one could have foreseen the consequen@s of his reaction.

Folorn Hope became another valuable sx)uroe, mostly in matters concerning cross-border activity, where the Intelligence she gave us could be double+hecked, through the Badger, and our other contacts, and on the various individuals in the Craigavon area.

It was on similarly sexual grounds that Goldilocks came our way.

She as an older woman, living in the Portadown area, divorced and, to put it bluntly, a n;rmphomaniac. Our first contact was when two letters addressed to a couple ofSergeants in the local battalion were passed onto the Regimental Sergeant-Mqjor by the post offrce. (Both the post office and telephone service worked closely with the Army and the police - monitoring private mail, relaying various calls, predominently involving Republicans.)

The letters turned out to be pornographic photographs ofGoldilocks and another woman involved in various lesbian acts, and an invitation to the soldiers to return again for'More of the same'. A couple of weeks before this, I has already received a tip-offthat two soldiers had been seen visiting a house in a particular area, and that their lives were at risk from the local terrorists. I had tried, without success, to find out who they were. It seemed that I now had the answer.

I consulted with the CO concerned, and then checked to find out ifthe woman could be of any use to us. It transpired that she had a long reputation for seducing RUC men, that her house was situated in a perfect spot for observation, and she herselfwould be likely to prove a useful low grade source. Armed with all this, I took the two NCOs with me and knocked on her door. They then went upstairs and had sex with

45

I sat in the lounge watching television. When she came down again, I put it to her that, if she would let us use her house twenty her, while

four hours a day for observation, I would personally ensure that soldiers would be made available to her whenever she required. Once I had squared this with the various authorities concerned, it all went ahead smoothly: two unmarried senior NCOs were provided from every incoming unit, and we used the house to keep tabs on a number of activities in the area, which resulted in several arresLs, and a steady flow of information. When it became necessary, we moved her into a different area; but as is the case with most sourceg, through her we made contact with others. So the network spread, and when one had to leave for safety's sake, another would take over the role.

The whole business with Goldilocks may sound clinical, and sexist but these were her sexual needs, and the deal we struck was immediately attractive to her. In fact, I grew very fond ofher over the months, though I personally had no place in the deal itself, and was constantly at pains to keep my distance. When I picked her up to debrief her, it was my habit to drive out to a secluded spot in the Mourne Mountains, and

park by a small knoll. Meanwhile my FINCO, Sgt.Iwouldgoup separately covering my rear and then position himself on another knoll where he could cover the whole area with a Mark 4 sniper rifle 303 convertedtoT.62 with a scope.

Through the scope he would watch me inching further and further away from Goldilocks, as she pulled up her skirt and leaned further over me, until I was nearly half-way out of the window, still trying to

debriefher on events in her locality.

She used to buy me cufflinks from Woolworths, and bottles of overpowering aftershave and so on, which I dutifully took home,and tried to explain to my wife. I wasn't so straightlaced as to be unsympathetic to her loneliness, or the pathos ofher needs, but I had to treat her professionally. And, in purely professional terms, it was worth it. She supplied a constant stream of information on people with weapons, robberies carried out to bolster terrorist funds, bricked-up or deserted houses used as caches, and on the members of junior paramilitary groups and their clubhouses.

These frfteen and sixteen year olds would all get recruited, we would find out who they were, arrest them, and break the grcup up. A month or two later, another one would start.

We would let them get organized - take over some old garage or whatever, put their posters and flags up and so on, and then simply go in and lift, them again.

Thanks to Goldilocks, more than anyone else, we were always a step ahead.

There is one occasion I will always remember her for. She rang me up,sounding very pleased with herself, to tell me she knew there were weapons in a certain bricked-up house, not far from hers. She des-

I

44

his soldiers to guard the flat, while he had sex with the yourtg woman,

telling his soldiers he was using her as an intelligence source.

It was Mrs Dearsley who first heard all about this through her

'teastop'grapevine. She told Bunny, and we decided at once to challenge the offrcer. He was so frightened his career would be ruined, especially since he was on detachment to another unit, he tried to bluff his way out with us, using the excuse of some kind of private intelligence work. He told us of Folorn Hope's connections. After discussing the matter, we decided the best course of action would be to call his bluff. We asked him to get answers to ten questions about the Monaghan area (who was there, what they were doing, etc.) and come back to us. Ifhe failed, I would report him for abusing his authority.

He returned to us with most of the answers we expected. We then went directly to MI6, and asked for authority to recruit Folorn Hope.

This offrcer was then instructed from the political offrce to be assigned to work directly for us. This, ofcourse, rekindled all the latent antagonism within the Brigade. The Colonel of the Battalion was furious, since no one had either consulted him, or indeed even thought of doing so. He was an ex-SAS man, and not the kind to take this sort of treatment without seeking to redress the balance. However, no one could have foreseen the consequen@s of his reaction.

Folorn Hope became another valuable sx)uroe, mostly in matters concerning cross-border activity, where the Intelligence she gave us could be double+hecked, through the Badger, and our other contacts, and on the various individuals in the Craigavon area.

It was on similarly sexual grounds that Goldilocks came our way.

She as an older woman, living in the Portadown area, divorced and, to put it bluntly, a n;rmphomaniac. Our first contact was when two letters addressed to a couple ofSergeants in the local battalion were passed onto the Regimental Sergeant-Mqjor by the post offrce. (Both the post office and telephone service worked closely with the Army and the police - monitoring private mail, relaying various calls, predominently involving Republicans.)

The letters turned out to be pornographic photographs ofGoldilocks and another woman involved in various lesbian acts, and an invitation to the soldiers to return again for'More of the same'. A couple of weeks before this, I has already received a tip-offthat two soldiers had been seen visiting a house in a particular area, and that their lives were at risk from the local terrorists. I had tried, without success, to find out who they were. It seemed that I now had the answer.

I consulted with the CO concerned, and then checked to find out ifthe woman could be of any use to us. It transpired that she had a long reputation for seducing RUC men, that her house was situated in a perfect spot for observation, and she herselfwould be likely to prove a useful low grade source. Armed with all this, I took the two NCOs with me and knocked on her door. They then went upstairs and had sex with

45

I sat in the lounge watching television. When she came down again, I put it to her that, if she would let us use her house twenty her, while

four hours a day for observation, I would personally ensure that soldiers would be made available to her whenever she required. Once I had squared this with the various authorities concerned, it all went ahead smoothly: two unmarried senior NCOs were provided from every incoming unit, and we used the house to keep tabs on a number of activities in the area, which resulted in several arresLs, and a steady flow of information. When it became necessary, we moved her into a different area; but as is the case with most sourceg, through her we made contact with others. So the network spread, and when one had to leave for safety's sake, another would take over the role.

The whole business with Goldilocks may sound clinical, and sexist but these were her sexual needs, and the deal we struck was immediately attractive to her. In fact, I grew very fond ofher over the months, though I personally had no place in the deal itself, and was constantly at pains to keep my distance. When I picked her up to debrief her, it was my habit to drive out to a secluded spot in the Mourne Mountains, and

park by a small knoll. Meanwhile my FINCO, Sgt.Iwouldgoup separately covering my rear and then position himself on another knoll where he could cover the whole area with a Mark 4 sniper rifle 303 convertedtoT.62 with a scope.

Through the scope he would watch me inching further and further away from Goldilocks, as she pulled up her skirt and leaned further over me, until I was nearly half-way out of the window, still trying to

debriefher on events in her locality.

She used to buy me cufflinks from Woolworths, and bottles of overpowering aftershave and so on, which I dutifully took home,and tried to explain to my wife. I wasn't so straightlaced as to be unsympathetic to her loneliness, or the pathos ofher needs, but I had to treat her professionally. And, in purely professional terms, it was worth it. She supplied a constant stream of information on people with weapons, robberies carried out to bolster terrorist funds, bricked-up or deserted houses used as caches, and on the members of junior paramilitary groups and their clubhouses.

These frfteen and sixteen year olds would all get recruited, we would find out who they were, arrest them, and break the grcup up. A month or two later, another one would start.

We would let them get organized - take over some old garage or whatever, put their posters and flags up and so on, and then simply go in and lift, them again.

Thanks to Goldilocks, more than anyone else, we were always a step ahead.

There is one occasion I will always remember her for. She rang me up,sounding very pleased with herself, to tell me she knew there were weapons in a certain bricked-up house, not far from hers. She des-

I

47

46

cribed them to me - and I was quickly able to identifu them as ones that had been used in a recent incident. As a result of her information, we got a search team in the next morning, with a dog, and all the usual gear. They turned the place upside down but all they found was a clip of .22 ammunition, which was hidden in a container, fixed behind a light switch. Eventually the house was declared clear.

I was very angry with her, and let her know. I'd been dressed all morning as a UDR oflicer, keeping an eye on things, since it was my intelligence that had sent the team in; and of course, when no weapons were found, it could only reflect badly on me. However, no sooner had I

that be were really to grasp the nettle, much of the sting would disappear.

Since his assassination one ofthese officers has been held up as an example of heroism and devotion to duty. I have my own memories of Captain Robert Nairac and they are mixed. I liked him and saw him as a younger version of myself. He was keen and brave, if a little rash, but totally committed to the war against the terrorists. However there was another side to Robert that I was to learn about. The unit he was

involved with, with the cover title '4 Field Survey Tloop, Royal Engineers', was involved with the murdering of suspected and known

finished receiving some sceptical teasing at Mahon Road, than

key members of the IRA. '4 Field Survey Tloop'was located at Castle

Goldilocks came on the phone again to say that the guns were being moved at that very moment. Immediately, we all drove down there again, and sure enough, we caught two men carrying the weapons: an automatic submachine gun and a rifle. They were atrested atonce, and sent to prison for trial. Goldilocks had been right all along. Where

cover fooled the genuine Engineers. The compound housing'4 Field Survey Troup'was guarded by Ministry of Defence Police - something any ordinary soldier, used to routine guard duties, knows is highly

those weapons were hidden, I couldn't say. But she hadn't let me down,

after all.

This, then, was the kind of work in which I was involved after my initial recruitment into M16. Of course, the routine aspects of my MIO duties went on, though once the police knew what I was doing, their attitude towards me quickly improved. Now, in addition to my briefings to Brigade HQ, and my own unit at Knock, I also had monthly meetings with Smellie at Lisburn, and there were the standard monthly gatherings of all the SMIUs where information was exchanged, trends examined and predicted, and an overall picture ofthe

warbuilt up.

The SMIU meetings took place at 12 Intelligence and Security Company, in a large lecture room complex at Lisburn Barracks. The MIO, FINCO and one or two LINCOs from each police divisional area about 50 ofus in all - would sit and be lectured by the Colonel on police initiatives and so on. We would adjourn to the bar afterwards. At private discussions, two things became plain to us all. One, it seemed to us that the predominantly Protestant RUC was inveterately biased and this attitude appeared to be responsible for many miscarriages of

justice.

This was hardly surprising, as many of the police themselves either belonged to, or had close relations in, the Protestant outlawed groups.

Two, as fast as you got the Republicans locked up, and so were able to turn your attention as a unit to the Protestants, and not rely on them policing themselves, the British government were responsible for releasing the Republicans on parole, to put you back to square one.

This happened twice, quite blatantly, in my area.

Whatever the case, as soldiers, we were only too aware that we were being kept in work, in many senses, artificially, and that if the powers

Dillon with a genuine engineer regiment. It had a second level of cover as 'Northern Ireland Tlaining and Tactics Team'(NITAT). Neither

unusual.

The unit possessd civilian 'Q' cars fitted with sophisticated communications linked to an operations room in one of the wooden barack blocks in the compound. The personnel were issued with non-standard weapons as well as Army issued ones. American MACII (Ingram) silenced sub-machine guns, Remington folded-butt light-weight pump-action shotguns, and Sterling MK5 silenced sub-machine guns were all bonowed from this unit by me for my own operations. More ominously, in a cupboard in their arrnourJ/ was a tray of 9mm Browning pistol barrels, extractors and frring pins which had been 'cast' - declared unsuitable for uso because of wear and tear and therefore (olficially) destroyed by the Army. These'cast'parts couldbe placed in normal issue Brownings, fired, degtroyed, and replaced with the original'offrcial'parts. This would make it impossible to connect the weapon with any shooting-there would be no ballistics evidence.

To this day, although acknowledging that such a unit existed in the

1960's t,Le Ministry of Defence claims that all records of it have been destroyed, and they are thus unable to answer any questions about it.

More recently the second level ofcover for'4 Field Survey Tloop'that of NITATT, has been described as a covert intelligence unit, but its title has been altered. now, we are told, in the book Ambush (James Adams and others, Pan 1988) that this unit.was, in fact, a part of a hitherto unheard of '14th Intelligence Company'. To my knowledge,'l4th Intelligence'was formed long aft,er the events I described and this book isjust the latest in a long line ofattempts to conceal the fact that the SAS were operating out of Castledillon in Armagh long before the government of the day was aware of it.

But although like Bunny, I was always armed - with a Walther

I carried in a waist holster, or with an Ingram submachine gun, borrowed from the SAS for particular operations - I never shot a single terrorist, nor did I take part in any ofthe SAS's PPK, which

I

47

46

cribed them to me - and I was quickly able to identifu them as ones that had been used in a recent incident. As a result of her information, we got a search team in the next morning, with a dog, and all the usual gear. They turned the place upside down but all they found was a clip of .22 ammunition, which was hidden in a container, fixed behind a light switch. Eventually the house was declared clear.

I was very angry with her, and let her know. I'd been dressed all morning as a UDR oflicer, keeping an eye on things, since it was my intelligence that had sent the team in; and of course, when no weapons were found, it could only reflect badly on me. However, no sooner had I

that be were really to grasp the nettle, much of the sting would disappear.

Since his assassination one ofthese officers has been held up as an example of heroism and devotion to duty. I have my own memories of Captain Robert Nairac and they are mixed. I liked him and saw him as a younger version of myself. He was keen and brave, if a little rash, but totally committed to the war against the terrorists. However there was another side to Robert that I was to learn about. The unit he was

involved with, with the cover title '4 Field Survey Tloop, Royal Engineers', was involved with the murdering of suspected and known

finished receiving some sceptical teasing at Mahon Road, than

key members of the IRA. '4 Field Survey Tloop'was located at Castle

Goldilocks came on the phone again to say that the guns were being moved at that very moment. Immediately, we all drove down there again, and sure enough, we caught two men carrying the weapons: an automatic submachine gun and a rifle. They were atrested atonce, and sent to prison for trial. Goldilocks had been right all along. Where

cover fooled the genuine Engineers. The compound housing'4 Field Survey Troup'was guarded by Ministry of Defence Police - something any ordinary soldier, used to routine guard duties, knows is highly

those weapons were hidden, I couldn't say. But she hadn't let me down,

after all.

This, then, was the kind of work in which I was involved after my initial recruitment into M16. Of course, the routine aspects of my MIO duties went on, though once the police knew what I was doing, their attitude towards me quickly improved. Now, in addition to my briefings to Brigade HQ, and my own unit at Knock, I also had monthly meetings with Smellie at Lisburn, and there were the standard monthly gatherings of all the SMIUs where information was exchanged, trends examined and predicted, and an overall picture ofthe

warbuilt up.

The SMIU meetings took place at 12 Intelligence and Security Company, in a large lecture room complex at Lisburn Barracks. The MIO, FINCO and one or two LINCOs from each police divisional area about 50 ofus in all - would sit and be lectured by the Colonel on police initiatives and so on. We would adjourn to the bar afterwards. At private discussions, two things became plain to us all. One, it seemed to us that the predominantly Protestant RUC was inveterately biased and this attitude appeared to be responsible for many miscarriages of

justice.

This was hardly surprising, as many of the police themselves either belonged to, or had close relations in, the Protestant outlawed groups.

Two, as fast as you got the Republicans locked up, and so were able to turn your attention as a unit to the Protestants, and not rely on them policing themselves, the British government were responsible for releasing the Republicans on parole, to put you back to square one.

This happened twice, quite blatantly, in my area.

Whatever the case, as soldiers, we were only too aware that we were being kept in work, in many senses, artificially, and that if the powers

Dillon with a genuine engineer regiment. It had a second level of cover as 'Northern Ireland Tlaining and Tactics Team'(NITAT). Neither

unusual.

The unit possessd civilian 'Q' cars fitted with sophisticated communications linked to an operations room in one of the wooden barack blocks in the compound. The personnel were issued with non-standard weapons as well as Army issued ones. American MACII (Ingram) silenced sub-machine guns, Remington folded-butt light-weight pump-action shotguns, and Sterling MK5 silenced sub-machine guns were all bonowed from this unit by me for my own operations. More ominously, in a cupboard in their arrnourJ/ was a tray of 9mm Browning pistol barrels, extractors and frring pins which had been 'cast' - declared unsuitable for uso because of wear and tear and therefore (olficially) destroyed by the Army. These'cast'parts couldbe placed in normal issue Brownings, fired, degtroyed, and replaced with the original'offrcial'parts. This would make it impossible to connect the weapon with any shooting-there would be no ballistics evidence.

To this day, although acknowledging that such a unit existed in the

1960's t,Le Ministry of Defence claims that all records of it have been destroyed, and they are thus unable to answer any questions about it.

More recently the second level ofcover for'4 Field Survey Tloop'that of NITATT, has been described as a covert intelligence unit, but its title has been altered. now, we are told, in the book Ambush (James Adams and others, Pan 1988) that this unit.was, in fact, a part of a hitherto unheard of '14th Intelligence Company'. To my knowledge,'l4th Intelligence'was formed long aft,er the events I described and this book isjust the latest in a long line ofattempts to conceal the fact that the SAS were operating out of Castledillon in Armagh long before the government of the day was aware of it.

But although like Bunny, I was always armed - with a Walther

I carried in a waist holster, or with an Ingram submachine gun, borrowed from the SAS for particular operations - I never shot a single terrorist, nor did I take part in any ofthe SAS's PPK, which

I

TOP RIGHT: Myself in'mufbi'with daughter Bridget at home in Bocombra, Porladown.

TOP LEFT: Christmas visit to family from Rhodesia, in Devon 1980. BELOW: The family at RAF Married Quarters, Compton Bassett, near Colne 1971'

TOP: The aftermath of an IRA car bomb in Claudy village. BELOW: The IRA burnt down their accommodation at Long Kesh Internment Centre and were subdued afer a short, vicious skirmish by the Army.

TOP RIGHT: Myself in'mufbi'with daughter Bridget at home in Bocombra, Porladown.

TOP LEFT: Christmas visit to family from Rhodesia, in Devon 1980. BELOW: The family at RAF Married Quarters, Compton Bassett, near Colne 1971'

TOP: The aftermath of an IRA car bomb in Claudy village. BELOW: The IRA burnt down their accommodation at Long Kesh Internment Centre and were subdued afer a short, vicious skirmish by the Army.

51

**'

W

TOP: A Protestant victim of the UVF 'Romper Room'- a venue used to administer internal discipline within the para-military organisation. BELoW: lst Regiment, Royal Horse Artillery (my original Regiment) suffered casualties during my undercover tour of duty in

the Province.

''

'.. ., ,.

,G

!l

!.ryf

F, *F, .6: 1t* (} tfl '* -#. uGu \,*.J h*$

, . l.'

A typical IRA weapons find by the Army.

,{b,

\-d =

51

**'

W

TOP: A Protestant victim of the UVF 'Romper Room'- a venue used to administer internal discipline within the para-military organisation. BELoW: lst Regiment, Royal Horse Artillery (my original Regiment) suffered casualties during my undercover tour of duty in

the Province.

''

'.. ., ,.

,G

!l

!.ryf

F, *F, .6: 1t* (} tfl '* -#. uGu \,*.J h*$

, . l.'

A typical IRA weapons find by the Army.

,{b,

\-d =

TOP: An IRA car bomb attack which claimed two victims. BELOW: The IRA parade in Long Kesh prison, their'military academy'.

TOP: UDA 'bully boys' manning the barricades whilst RUC o{ficers watch helplessly, lottao.taetty. SdLOW, The scenJ after a failed bomb making attempt: two men had been priming bombs in a derelict house, when one went off.

TOP: An IRA car bomb attack which claimed two victims. BELOW: The IRA parade in Long Kesh prison, their'military academy'.

TOP: UDA 'bully boys' manning the barricades whilst RUC o{ficers watch helplessly, lottao.taetty. SdLOW, The scenJ after a failed bomb making attempt: two men had been priming bombs in a derelict house, when one went off.

55

54

*#

more notorious missions. We took the view that it wasn't our brief to get involved in gun battles if we could possibly help it, since what cover we had would be blown as a consequence, and all our patiently devised plans put at risk. But there were occasions when we were forced to fire rounds in the general area to get rid ofvarious pursuers, and others when the sight of a weapon was enough to secure an arrest.

Not everyone shared our reticence. The SAS Troop with whom I had close contact were based at Castledillon, near Armagh, in a secluded country house that had once been used as a mental hospital. Quite how they fitted into the SB/Army/SIS network I wasn't quite sure at first, though I knew the officers had been trained by the political as well as military authorities, and worked with a high degree of independence.

For a year, 1973 through part of 1974,I was able to conceal my identity as a member of the security forces, and moved unchallenged in hostile areas, by dressing and behaving like the local target population. But if I went in alone, I was always armed, and I would have prepared the ground with the local battallion who would ensure that a patrol was in the vicinity. (It was therefore with some concern that I read the published accounts of Robert Nairac's death claiming that he was operating on his own, with no back-up. This was not only against the rules of procedure, but out of character for Robert.) However, after a year during which I had personally interrogated some of the leading terrorists, my cover was blown. I became known locally asthe bearded SAS man', working from Portadown police station, and had to resort to alternative means to pass safely through target areas.

It is a picture that only now I feel I genuinely

understand. While I

was on active service I didn't make fine distinctions. And it is true to say that no one from the other side of things could be expected to make a distinction between, say, Captain Nairac, and myself. Every month I could be seen, with him and the others from his unit, on the dunes at Ballykinla, practising with all kinds of weapons on the range there, and eating spare ribs over the barbecue when we had frnished. We were both working undercover to track down the terrorists, and therefore were even less acceptable to our opponents than the regular Army

soldiers.

\ ,\

RPG 7's appeared in the Province and were used by the IRA from the early 1970's.

The fact is I was not'the bearded SAS man'the Republicans eventually took me to be. My code of behaviour was not the same. It was my role to obtain intelligence, Nairac's to act on it. And the SAS in Ireland at that time were the spearhead of Kitson's counter-insurgency policy, and the lever used by more ruthless operators than those who employed me, to implement their policies.

Once Special Branch knew that I was working with Mr Smellie at Lisburn, their attitude changed considerably towards me, and, with Bunny, I was soon involved in my area with all kinds of covert operations. Often, these would have to be taken up at a moment's notice.

I

55

54

*#

more notorious missions. We took the view that it wasn't our brief to get involved in gun battles if we could possibly help it, since what cover we had would be blown as a consequence, and all our patiently devised plans put at risk. But there were occasions when we were forced to fire rounds in the general area to get rid ofvarious pursuers, and others when the sight of a weapon was enough to secure an arrest.

Not everyone shared our reticence. The SAS Troop with whom I had close contact were based at Castledillon, near Armagh, in a secluded country house that had once been used as a mental hospital. Quite how they fitted into the SB/Army/SIS network I wasn't quite sure at first, though I knew the officers had been trained by the political as well as military authorities, and worked with a high degree of independence.

For a year, 1973 through part of 1974,I was able to conceal my identity as a member of the security forces, and moved unchallenged in hostile areas, by dressing and behaving like the local target population. But if I went in alone, I was always armed, and I would have prepared the ground with the local battallion who would ensure that a patrol was in the vicinity. (It was therefore with some concern that I read the published accounts of Robert Nairac's death claiming that he was operating on his own, with no back-up. This was not only against the rules of procedure, but out of character for Robert.) However, after a year during which I had personally interrogated some of the leading terrorists, my cover was blown. I became known locally asthe bearded SAS man', working from Portadown police station, and had to resort to alternative means to pass safely through target areas.

It is a picture that only now I feel I genuinely

understand. While I

was on active service I didn't make fine distinctions. And it is true to say that no one from the other side of things could be expected to make a distinction between, say, Captain Nairac, and myself. Every month I could be seen, with him and the others from his unit, on the dunes at Ballykinla, practising with all kinds of weapons on the range there, and eating spare ribs over the barbecue when we had frnished. We were both working undercover to track down the terrorists, and therefore were even less acceptable to our opponents than the regular Army

soldiers.

\ ,\

RPG 7's appeared in the Province and were used by the IRA from the early 1970's.

The fact is I was not'the bearded SAS man'the Republicans eventually took me to be. My code of behaviour was not the same. It was my role to obtain intelligence, Nairac's to act on it. And the SAS in Ireland at that time were the spearhead of Kitson's counter-insurgency policy, and the lever used by more ruthless operators than those who employed me, to implement their policies.

Once Special Branch knew that I was working with Mr Smellie at Lisburn, their attitude changed considerably towards me, and, with Bunny, I was soon involved in my area with all kinds of covert operations. Often, these would have to be taken up at a moment's notice.

I

56

Some days after I had first crossed the border Bunny and I hadjust been inside Craigavon police station, when a leen little constable there we knew as Sputnik came dashing out after us with a note in his police had received a message from an old man cn a hand. The police Craigavon estate that the IRA had learned ofa licenced shotgun in his possession and were going in later that day to take it offhim. The man was begging the police to go in frrst - but no one, except Sputnik from the station, had any inclination to oblige. We asked him if they had informed the Army, but he said they hadn't, for then they would almost certainly have a gun-battle ontheirhands. Bunnythen agreedthathe would go instead. I looked at him anxiously, but said nothing. We crossed to his car. He took two sub-machine guns from the boot, went back into the station, and fetched his own pump action shotgun, along with a civilian jacket. We decided to use my car,since it was new to the area, and drove to the Taignavon estate, about three-quarters ofa mile away, Sputnik undoing his tie and taking offhis hat in the back seat, while Bunny relayed the plan to us both.

We went into the estate at normal speed, bumping over the 'sleeping

policeman', watched from various corners and windowe, as we cruised down to the end of the road, did a U-turn and came back up: When we reached the culde-sac where the old man lived, we reversed at full tilt, straight over his garden, knocking down a little sapling tree, and screeched to a halt. I jumped out at one side, Bunny, the other, with the engine still running, the heindbrake on. I covered Bunny with the suLmachine gun as he ran to the door, shouted, 'Open up, you bas-

57

icular foreign gentleman, married to an Irishwoman, for low-grade information on the area in which he lived' The Provisionals were bleeding him dry - he was a successful businessman, and they were continuilly demanding money from him, using various threats to himself and his family. One night I actually went and sat at an upstairs window with a weapon, waiting for them to come to pigk up 1 payment. An armed man and a woman came sneaking up tle drive. I ipiayed the ground around them with bullets and forced them to lie

flat.i then allowed them to escape thoroughly subdued, and my friend had no further trouble.

The'starsky and Hutch'element to it all perhaps accounted for some ofthe reputation I gained in the area. Our Storno police radios regularly picked up messages transmitted to Juliet 23 - Bunny - and Juliet 22, myself, as we drove round in our Q cars on patrol, and we would give instant response.

A typical example came one a{ternoon that summer, when we wer-e Some time before the incident occurred, Captain D at HQ 3 Brigade had asked me w-hether I would be working closely with Dearsley.-When I said I would, he told me that I should

drivin! round Craigavon. knowlhat Bunny had

been involved in a bank robbery whenhe was on

tards' and proceeded to kick

tour with his company. I asked why he was still in the Army t\n' a9 a NCO. D replied that rro one had been able to prove anything. But the facts were lhat Bunny had tipped offt]re Army that there was going to be a raid on a bank in Portadown: they had acted on his information and staked out the building. Meanwhile the IRA had robbed another

had the shotgun, the old man had preserved his cover. Success.

This was one ofthe first operations ofthe kind I had experienced. But I wasn't the only one whose hand was shaking round the coffee cup when we were back at the station, going through it all, moment by moment, and chattering like small boys, to get the adrenalin out of the system. When we gave the gun to the local RUC Inspector, he simply raised one eyebrow, and said nothing. He knew that the RUC themselves had turned half these places into n(Fgo areas in the frrst place; while the regular soldiers, as Sputnik said, either served as targets for the snipers or represented a severe over-reaction to this kind ofincident.

There were many such episodes following this one,'when we had to work quickly on Intelligence provided by our sources. I used a part-

background in the East End, and so on. This sort ofsmear had offended me aI the time. And when I later asked Bunny about it, he explained that he had passed on the tip--offin good faith, but that his source had been taken ior a ride. He knew about the rumour' but treated it with contempt pointing out that people who never left HQ 9xc9n! to dlvc1o their will-fortifred homes at B-ocombra, and gathered all their Intelligence by map had no right to cast aspersions on anyone who was actually out there trying to do their job' On this particular afbernoon, a call came through from the police that Bunny had to phone one ofhis sources at once' We stopped at a phone-box; the source told him that if he went down to a garage in Lutgatt, well-known to us, he would find two Oxyacetyline-cylinders in aTrame, in the workshop. Eight inches from the bottom of each one, was a thin hairline crack. The cylinders were threaded, so they could be unscrewed. In one, he would find a M1 Carbine, and in the other a Garaud rifle, both WW2 Infantry weapons' Immediately, Bunny jumped back into the car, got through to the police, told them to follow up ind order an Army Quick Reaction Squad to attend the scene' Meanwhile, we shot straight down to the garage ourselves, without

it in. Sputnik meanwhile covered him from the other side of the car, as a couple of the local lads ran offdown the street, to make sure our visit was known. A crashing noise came from inside the house, and Bunny's voice, 'All right, you bastard, where's your shotgun?' Within moments he emerged, carrying the weapon, while we both kept cover on him. We all three climbed back into the car, shot into gear, down the road, flying over the'sleeping policemen' this time, and out of the estate. And as we left, we could see the 'boys' &ppes, behind us, armed. But we were out of range now. We

bank across town, and got away with f,28,000. According to Capt' D Bunny had got a cut of this money - it stood to reason, ervgn |i9

I

56

Some days after I had first crossed the border Bunny and I hadjust been inside Craigavon police station, when a leen little constable there we knew as Sputnik came dashing out after us with a note in his police had received a message from an old man cn a hand. The police Craigavon estate that the IRA had learned ofa licenced shotgun in his possession and were going in later that day to take it offhim. The man was begging the police to go in frrst - but no one, except Sputnik from the station, had any inclination to oblige. We asked him if they had informed the Army, but he said they hadn't, for then they would almost certainly have a gun-battle ontheirhands. Bunnythen agreedthathe would go instead. I looked at him anxiously, but said nothing. We crossed to his car. He took two sub-machine guns from the boot, went back into the station, and fetched his own pump action shotgun, along with a civilian jacket. We decided to use my car,since it was new to the area, and drove to the Taignavon estate, about three-quarters ofa mile away, Sputnik undoing his tie and taking offhis hat in the back seat, while Bunny relayed the plan to us both.

We went into the estate at normal speed, bumping over the 'sleeping

policeman', watched from various corners and windowe, as we cruised down to the end of the road, did a U-turn and came back up: When we reached the culde-sac where the old man lived, we reversed at full tilt, straight over his garden, knocking down a little sapling tree, and screeched to a halt. I jumped out at one side, Bunny, the other, with the engine still running, the heindbrake on. I covered Bunny with the suLmachine gun as he ran to the door, shouted, 'Open up, you bas-

57

icular foreign gentleman, married to an Irishwoman, for low-grade information on the area in which he lived' The Provisionals were bleeding him dry - he was a successful businessman, and they were continuilly demanding money from him, using various threats to himself and his family. One night I actually went and sat at an upstairs window with a weapon, waiting for them to come to pigk up 1 payment. An armed man and a woman came sneaking up tle drive. I ipiayed the ground around them with bullets and forced them to lie

flat.i then allowed them to escape thoroughly subdued, and my friend had no further trouble.

The'starsky and Hutch'element to it all perhaps accounted for some ofthe reputation I gained in the area. Our Storno police radios regularly picked up messages transmitted to Juliet 23 - Bunny - and Juliet 22, myself, as we drove round in our Q cars on patrol, and we would give instant response.

A typical example came one a{ternoon that summer, when we wer-e Some time before the incident occurred, Captain D at HQ 3 Brigade had asked me w-hether I would be working closely with Dearsley.-When I said I would, he told me that I should

drivin! round Craigavon. knowlhat Bunny had

been involved in a bank robbery whenhe was on

tards' and proceeded to kick

tour with his company. I asked why he was still in the Army t\n' a9 a NCO. D replied that rro one had been able to prove anything. But the facts were lhat Bunny had tipped offt]re Army that there was going to be a raid on a bank in Portadown: they had acted on his information and staked out the building. Meanwhile the IRA had robbed another

had the shotgun, the old man had preserved his cover. Success.

This was one ofthe first operations ofthe kind I had experienced. But I wasn't the only one whose hand was shaking round the coffee cup when we were back at the station, going through it all, moment by moment, and chattering like small boys, to get the adrenalin out of the system. When we gave the gun to the local RUC Inspector, he simply raised one eyebrow, and said nothing. He knew that the RUC themselves had turned half these places into n(Fgo areas in the frrst place; while the regular soldiers, as Sputnik said, either served as targets for the snipers or represented a severe over-reaction to this kind ofincident.

There were many such episodes following this one,'when we had to work quickly on Intelligence provided by our sources. I used a part-

background in the East End, and so on. This sort ofsmear had offended me aI the time. And when I later asked Bunny about it, he explained that he had passed on the tip--offin good faith, but that his source had been taken ior a ride. He knew about the rumour' but treated it with contempt pointing out that people who never left HQ 9xc9n! to dlvc1o their will-fortifred homes at B-ocombra, and gathered all their Intelligence by map had no right to cast aspersions on anyone who was actually out there trying to do their job' On this particular afbernoon, a call came through from the police that Bunny had to phone one ofhis sources at once' We stopped at a phone-box; the source told him that if he went down to a garage in Lutgatt, well-known to us, he would find two Oxyacetyline-cylinders in aTrame, in the workshop. Eight inches from the bottom of each one, was a thin hairline crack. The cylinders were threaded, so they could be unscrewed. In one, he would find a M1 Carbine, and in the other a Garaud rifle, both WW2 Infantry weapons' Immediately, Bunny jumped back into the car, got through to the police, told them to follow up ind order an Army Quick Reaction Squad to attend the scene' Meanwhile, we shot straight down to the garage ourselves, without

it in. Sputnik meanwhile covered him from the other side of the car, as a couple of the local lads ran offdown the street, to make sure our visit was known. A crashing noise came from inside the house, and Bunny's voice, 'All right, you bastard, where's your shotgun?' Within moments he emerged, carrying the weapon, while we both kept cover on him. We all three climbed back into the car, shot into gear, down the road, flying over the'sleeping policemen' this time, and out of the estate. And as we left, we could see the 'boys' &ppes, behind us, armed. But we were out of range now. We

bank across town, and got away with f,28,000. According to Capt' D Bunny had got a cut of this money - it stood to reason, ervgn |i9

I

58

waiting for the back-up. We leapt out of our cars, kicked the

d9o1s

open, and threw everyone against the wall, gripping our Sunq i1

!9th hbnds, like true movie actors! We found the cylinders, the hairline crack, and unscrewed them. One was empty. But out of the other fell

some 37,000 in bundles of tenners. The police arrived. The men at the garage were duly arrested denying all knowledge of the. money, and certainly of any possible arms to be found on the premises', Since a complete search r-evealed none, they had to be believed. Both they, and the banknotes, were taken down to Lurgan police station' By the time they came to trial, some of the sum found in the cylinder had-disappeared, presumbly into the pockets of dishonest police-offi' cers based at Lurgan police station. One can imagine my outrage, then,

when Captain D subsequently hadthe effronteryto hintthatthe whole episode was contrived by Bunny to return some of the money stolen in the bank raid, as a means of allaying suspicions about himself.

The link between terrorist activity and ordinary crime in the community was one we were always aware of - and we spent much of our time tiacing it through various means, until it brought substantial rewards. But there were some bizarre blind alleys along the way.

Some weeks after the gatage incident, we received a tip--off that some explosives had been hidden in a milk--churn on a Catholic farmer's land, south of Craigavon. On the journey there, Bunny had spotted some lads with weapons making their way back towards the town, and had pursued them into a cornfield, closely followed by Sgt. I and myself. One of these lads had been left with lan, while we w-ent after the other, and it wasn't until we came back that we discovered Ian had no weapon of his own on him, and, again, in true Hollywood style, was holding the lad prisoner, with only his forefinger pressed against his neck!

We took the 'boys', who were only teenagers, to Craigavon police station, saw them charged, and set offagain to find the milk churn' Bunny and I got out ofour cars at a particular intersection ofthe farmers fields, and followed the hedge away from the road for half a mile or so. We came to the large tree, described to us by our source, just beyond a small brick wall. I had brought with me a grappling hook I always used on such occasions. After we had searched gingerly round the aiea, we focused on the top of the milk-churn, buried in the earth.

It could clearly have been some kind of booby-trap. So we hooked mygrappling iron to the handle, threw the rope attached over the bough of ltre tree, ina retired some twenty metres or so to the low wall, bailing the rope out as we went.

Slowly, and carefully, we tried to inch the lid offthe churn. As we pulled, I put my head over the wall, to see what was happening - ang ih"." *at the whole milk--churn rising from the hole, with the lid stuck

fast. We lowered

it

down again, and talked about what to

do.

Eventually, we decided to lift the whole thing out of the ground again,

it, so that if it was a trap the concussion would set the explosivLs off. We were just setting to work, when we saw two RUC men creeping through the field towards us. It was too late to stop. The milk-<hurn iame ou1 of the ground and hung in mid-air. We heard one shout to the other, 'Take cover!'And we called them over at once to tell them who we were and what we were doing. It transpired that they, too, had heard of the tig-off, and demanded that whatever was in the churn should be recorded as their frnd. We refused to agree, but instead of arguing, simply let the churn fall. Nothing happened. The RUC men then wenl acrois and finally managed to wrest the lid off, a potentially dangerous thing to do.

It wasn't piles of banknotes that fell out on this occasion - but a mass of pornographic magazines. A few minutes later, the farmer himself arrived,ind hastily began to stuffthem in his pockets. Naturally, the police claimed at once that it was all police property. And, of course, iike the money, some of the magazines disappeared. This was Northern Ireland in a nutshell - Catholic farmer caught redhanded with a milk--churn full of pornographic magazines, arguing with the forces of law and order as to who should have the privilege of reading them in private, while two British soldiers, who only a few minutes before had ihought they were hoisting a booby-trapped bomb into the air, looked on in bemusement!

But it was an even bet that, another time, the milk--churn might well contain a bomb, and if we slackened our security for a moment, we would rue the consequences. Nothing could better illustrate this than what happened to Frink Murray, then with the CID in Portadown, but unlike Sirgeant R an active officer who went out personally to track down terrorists on his patch. and drop

It was a similar kind of set-up - only this time we were working at night, and on the fringe of the Kilwilkie estate at Lurgan. We were

ap"proaching the estate from Craigavon Hall, inching through the-long giiss to getlo the graveyard' We knew there was a weapons cache in 6ne of thle graves, and we wanted to check exactly-what-was.there' Frank, Buriny, Sgt I and myself made our way slowly in the edges of the street lighl t]iat shone over the hedge, through the field, parallel to the cemeter:y. I was at the front, and I stopped at once when I saw a thin nylon string, like fishing-line, running tight across the grass about eight inchei off the ground. It seemed more than likely it was a trip-wire. So I turned round, and laid my hand flat an inch above it,

sigrralling to the others what

I

had found. Bunny and Sgt'

I

then

st6pped o-ver it deliberately. But when Frank Murray arrived, he took one iook at what it was, reached out and pulled it. It is very hard to describe the sensation you feel, waiting to be blown up. It lasts only a split second, but in thal time there is no other comparable horror' But nothing happened. Frank continued to pull at this wire, and on the end of it wai a Ilite, its tail dragging forlornly through the grass.

I

58

waiting for the back-up. We leapt out of our cars, kicked the

d9o1s

open, and threw everyone against the wall, gripping our Sunq i1

!9th hbnds, like true movie actors! We found the cylinders, the hairline crack, and unscrewed them. One was empty. But out of the other fell

some 37,000 in bundles of tenners. The police arrived. The men at the garage were duly arrested denying all knowledge of the. money, and certainly of any possible arms to be found on the premises', Since a complete search r-evealed none, they had to be believed. Both they, and the banknotes, were taken down to Lurgan police station' By the time they came to trial, some of the sum found in the cylinder had-disappeared, presumbly into the pockets of dishonest police-offi' cers based at Lurgan police station. One can imagine my outrage, then,

when Captain D subsequently hadthe effronteryto hintthatthe whole episode was contrived by Bunny to return some of the money stolen in the bank raid, as a means of allaying suspicions about himself.

The link between terrorist activity and ordinary crime in the community was one we were always aware of - and we spent much of our time tiacing it through various means, until it brought substantial rewards. But there were some bizarre blind alleys along the way.

Some weeks after the gatage incident, we received a tip--off that some explosives had been hidden in a milk--churn on a Catholic farmer's land, south of Craigavon. On the journey there, Bunny had spotted some lads with weapons making their way back towards the town, and had pursued them into a cornfield, closely followed by Sgt. I and myself. One of these lads had been left with lan, while we w-ent after the other, and it wasn't until we came back that we discovered Ian had no weapon of his own on him, and, again, in true Hollywood style, was holding the lad prisoner, with only his forefinger pressed against his neck!

We took the 'boys', who were only teenagers, to Craigavon police station, saw them charged, and set offagain to find the milk churn' Bunny and I got out ofour cars at a particular intersection ofthe farmers fields, and followed the hedge away from the road for half a mile or so. We came to the large tree, described to us by our source, just beyond a small brick wall. I had brought with me a grappling hook I always used on such occasions. After we had searched gingerly round the aiea, we focused on the top of the milk-churn, buried in the earth.

It could clearly have been some kind of booby-trap. So we hooked mygrappling iron to the handle, threw the rope attached over the bough of ltre tree, ina retired some twenty metres or so to the low wall, bailing the rope out as we went.

Slowly, and carefully, we tried to inch the lid offthe churn. As we pulled, I put my head over the wall, to see what was happening - ang ih"." *at the whole milk--churn rising from the hole, with the lid stuck

fast. We lowered

it

down again, and talked about what to

do.

Eventually, we decided to lift the whole thing out of the ground again,

it, so that if it was a trap the concussion would set the explosivLs off. We were just setting to work, when we saw two RUC men creeping through the field towards us. It was too late to stop. The milk-<hurn iame ou1 of the ground and hung in mid-air. We heard one shout to the other, 'Take cover!'And we called them over at once to tell them who we were and what we were doing. It transpired that they, too, had heard of the tig-off, and demanded that whatever was in the churn should be recorded as their frnd. We refused to agree, but instead of arguing, simply let the churn fall. Nothing happened. The RUC men then wenl acrois and finally managed to wrest the lid off, a potentially dangerous thing to do.

It wasn't piles of banknotes that fell out on this occasion - but a mass of pornographic magazines. A few minutes later, the farmer himself arrived,ind hastily began to stuffthem in his pockets. Naturally, the police claimed at once that it was all police property. And, of course, iike the money, some of the magazines disappeared. This was Northern Ireland in a nutshell - Catholic farmer caught redhanded with a milk--churn full of pornographic magazines, arguing with the forces of law and order as to who should have the privilege of reading them in private, while two British soldiers, who only a few minutes before had ihought they were hoisting a booby-trapped bomb into the air, looked on in bemusement!

But it was an even bet that, another time, the milk--churn might well contain a bomb, and if we slackened our security for a moment, we would rue the consequences. Nothing could better illustrate this than what happened to Frink Murray, then with the CID in Portadown, but unlike Sirgeant R an active officer who went out personally to track down terrorists on his patch. and drop

It was a similar kind of set-up - only this time we were working at night, and on the fringe of the Kilwilkie estate at Lurgan. We were

ap"proaching the estate from Craigavon Hall, inching through the-long giiss to getlo the graveyard' We knew there was a weapons cache in 6ne of thle graves, and we wanted to check exactly-what-was.there' Frank, Buriny, Sgt I and myself made our way slowly in the edges of the street lighl t]iat shone over the hedge, through the field, parallel to the cemeter:y. I was at the front, and I stopped at once when I saw a thin nylon string, like fishing-line, running tight across the grass about eight inchei off the ground. It seemed more than likely it was a trip-wire. So I turned round, and laid my hand flat an inch above it,

sigrralling to the others what

I

had found. Bunny and Sgt'

I

then

st6pped o-ver it deliberately. But when Frank Murray arrived, he took one iook at what it was, reached out and pulled it. It is very hard to describe the sensation you feel, waiting to be blown up. It lasts only a split second, but in thal time there is no other comparable horror' But nothing happened. Frank continued to pull at this wire, and on the end of it wai a Ilite, its tail dragging forlornly through the grass.

I

61

60

'You bloody soldiers!'swore Murray.'You're all the same' In 1978, Inspector Frank Murray was injured with his colleague by a boobytrap that had been deliberately set for him by a source he had been running, who wanted to get out of his situation. Frank was awarded the MBE for Gallantry. I read about it all in the newspaper, at home, after I had resigrred from the Army and I immediately rang him up.

I felt sure I knew the man who had done it, and I could track him down. Frank was only too well aware of the bomber, and he knew that he had fled to Cork. He told me he would be dealt with in good time. But

- for he had laughed at me that night in Lurgan, but he knew now how right I was to take he also said he was glad I had contacted him

precautions.

The last thought he had had as he put his hand out to touch the real booby-trap was how I had held out my hand as a signal to take care, and that if he had heeded my advice then, that awful moment would never have come to him now.

Frank's plight only confirmed what I had learned, working with Bunny Dearsley, that duringthe long months of 1974I was in a unique position in the province. The regular Army were denied any real awareness of what was going on around them. And the RUC's attitude was coloured by their feelings towards the Republican population, and

supported by their own sente of anger and resentment about their treatment by the British government. On a number of occasions, Intelligence would come through, concerning booby-traps, ambushes and robberies, that the police o{frcers would simply ignore because they were deemed effective ilFgo aneas. In Portadown, on a particular occasion when a bomb was discovered in the T\rnnel area, and the area was cordoned offby a unit of Scottish soldiers, RUC man Sergeant R marched straight up to one ofthe soldiers told him to get out ofthe way and tried to walk past him on to the site. Needless to say, the soldier pushed him up against the wall, calling him an Irish bastard and so on - Sergeant R was in plain clothes, and had refused to identifu himself.

The upshot was that the RUC man threatened to withdraw all his policemen from Portadown ifhe didn't get a personal apolory. Clearly, the soldier was in the right. But such was the attitude ofthe RUC that, unless the Army obliged, they were quite capable of carrying out the threat, and ensuring that the town became a haven for whatever criminals took advantage ofit. Sergeant R got his apology. I delivered it, after taking much abuse from both the Army and the RUC, in the process.

I lost count of the injuries the police sustained through similar recklessness and intransigence. A typical instance springs to mind from the summsr of 7974. Duringthat periodwe had recruited an extremely

useful source - one of the Provisionals' top bomb-makers, who regularly tipped us offon various planned offensives in which he had

been asked to play a part. The Intelligence often came through from him at the very last minute, so we were forced to rely on the mâ&#x201A;Źssage we put out over the radio being taken serioysly and acted on with due ca"6. Oo this occasion he warned us that a device had been placed in a manhole on the Craigavon estate, and that some kind of decoy would be used to lure the Secunty forces to the spot. The message was put out'

But inevitably, a uniformed RUC man went to the aid of a child supposedly tripped in the passage - and was blown to pieces for his trouble.

The Army, too, suffered from lapses in discipline whjch resulted in unttecessaty'deaths. There was another incident, involving the same sour@, where I sent in a search troop to an empty house in Craigavon' In a pure moment of inattention, a soldier went up to the toilet-and, as he was leaving, opened a cupboard door. The results were-predictably horrific. But, is iar as the iquaddies were ooncerned, there was an underlying posture of bravado and contempt, which would, with one RUC Iispeclor, compel him to tackle suspicious vehicles parked across the main road simply by opening the door, letting offthe handbrake, and pushing them to ttre t<erb. The Protestant Establishment felt they o*trid th" pilace - and this was often reflected in their security work' It was when military indiscipline and police recklessness met head on that the worst incidents occurred, and I questioned just what was going on in the Province. The Gilford Castle shootings, for instance, ia"t"a deep division and embarrassment on both sides, and could not help but provide encouragement to the terrorists.

All that was known initially, about the incident was that a group of soldiers had been shot by the RUC along the border - and the Army were extremely angry ai the police. I was called in by Captain-D and told that the Biigade wanted to know just what had gone on, and in my role as liaison o{ficer it was my duty to find out and report back as soon as I had done so. I immediately drove down to the Gilford Castle areaand found a badly led and disorganised shower of a cavalry unit, with a young major in charge.

It took me some time to get any sense out of them, but in the end I managed to piece the story together.

A band of men had comeback from leave andhadbeenpicked up in a plain mini-van from the docks. Theyhad been driven, quite rightly, a"to"t the country of Portadown, and then driven through Bambridge, to Gilford Castle. They had arrived there late in the afternoon. The standing orders procedure should have been that they stayed there morning, and then deployed to their sub-units, until the following-border, down towards Newry - driving the long way which were on the round, back up to Portadown and Belfast, and along the Ards peninsula, so into Newry from the opposite direction. This was standard procedure, because there was a ban on all unescorted vehicles using rttinor roads in that area at night - only armoured vehicles could use

61

60

'You bloody soldiers!'swore Murray.'You're all the same' In 1978, Inspector Frank Murray was injured with his colleague by a boobytrap that had been deliberately set for him by a source he had been running, who wanted to get out of his situation. Frank was awarded the MBE for Gallantry. I read about it all in the newspaper, at home, after I had resigrred from the Army and I immediately rang him up.

I felt sure I knew the man who had done it, and I could track him down. Frank was only too well aware of the bomber, and he knew that he had fled to Cork. He told me he would be dealt with in good time. But

- for he had laughed at me that night in Lurgan, but he knew now how right I was to take he also said he was glad I had contacted him

precautions.

The last thought he had had as he put his hand out to touch the real booby-trap was how I had held out my hand as a signal to take care, and that if he had heeded my advice then, that awful moment would never have come to him now.

Frank's plight only confirmed what I had learned, working with Bunny Dearsley, that duringthe long months of 1974I was in a unique position in the province. The regular Army were denied any real awareness of what was going on around them. And the RUC's attitude was coloured by their feelings towards the Republican population, and

supported by their own sente of anger and resentment about their treatment by the British government. On a number of occasions, Intelligence would come through, concerning booby-traps, ambushes and robberies, that the police o{frcers would simply ignore because they were deemed effective ilFgo aneas. In Portadown, on a particular occasion when a bomb was discovered in the T\rnnel area, and the area was cordoned offby a unit of Scottish soldiers, RUC man Sergeant R marched straight up to one ofthe soldiers told him to get out ofthe way and tried to walk past him on to the site. Needless to say, the soldier pushed him up against the wall, calling him an Irish bastard and so on - Sergeant R was in plain clothes, and had refused to identifu himself.

The upshot was that the RUC man threatened to withdraw all his policemen from Portadown ifhe didn't get a personal apolory. Clearly, the soldier was in the right. But such was the attitude ofthe RUC that, unless the Army obliged, they were quite capable of carrying out the threat, and ensuring that the town became a haven for whatever criminals took advantage ofit. Sergeant R got his apology. I delivered it, after taking much abuse from both the Army and the RUC, in the process.

I lost count of the injuries the police sustained through similar recklessness and intransigence. A typical instance springs to mind from the summsr of 7974. Duringthat periodwe had recruited an extremely

useful source - one of the Provisionals' top bomb-makers, who regularly tipped us offon various planned offensives in which he had

been asked to play a part. The Intelligence often came through from him at the very last minute, so we were forced to rely on the mâ&#x201A;Źssage we put out over the radio being taken serioysly and acted on with due ca"6. Oo this occasion he warned us that a device had been placed in a manhole on the Craigavon estate, and that some kind of decoy would be used to lure the Secunty forces to the spot. The message was put out'

But inevitably, a uniformed RUC man went to the aid of a child supposedly tripped in the passage - and was blown to pieces for his trouble.

The Army, too, suffered from lapses in discipline whjch resulted in unttecessaty'deaths. There was another incident, involving the same sour@, where I sent in a search troop to an empty house in Craigavon' In a pure moment of inattention, a soldier went up to the toilet-and, as he was leaving, opened a cupboard door. The results were-predictably horrific. But, is iar as the iquaddies were ooncerned, there was an underlying posture of bravado and contempt, which would, with one RUC Iispeclor, compel him to tackle suspicious vehicles parked across the main road simply by opening the door, letting offthe handbrake, and pushing them to ttre t<erb. The Protestant Establishment felt they o*trid th" pilace - and this was often reflected in their security work' It was when military indiscipline and police recklessness met head on that the worst incidents occurred, and I questioned just what was going on in the Province. The Gilford Castle shootings, for instance, ia"t"a deep division and embarrassment on both sides, and could not help but provide encouragement to the terrorists.

All that was known initially, about the incident was that a group of soldiers had been shot by the RUC along the border - and the Army were extremely angry ai the police. I was called in by Captain-D and told that the Biigade wanted to know just what had gone on, and in my role as liaison o{ficer it was my duty to find out and report back as soon as I had done so. I immediately drove down to the Gilford Castle areaand found a badly led and disorganised shower of a cavalry unit, with a young major in charge.

It took me some time to get any sense out of them, but in the end I managed to piece the story together.

A band of men had comeback from leave andhadbeenpicked up in a plain mini-van from the docks. Theyhad been driven, quite rightly, a"to"t the country of Portadown, and then driven through Bambridge, to Gilford Castle. They had arrived there late in the afternoon. The standing orders procedure should have been that they stayed there morning, and then deployed to their sub-units, until the following-border, down towards Newry - driving the long way which were on the round, back up to Portadown and Belfast, and along the Ards peninsula, so into Newry from the opposite direction. This was standard procedure, because there was a ban on all unescorted vehicles using rttinor roads in that area at night - only armoured vehicles could use

62

them by day. In other words, the border roads were partially out of bounds.

I had heard some weeks previously that a civilian vehicle had been operating in the border area, dropping soldiers offat various points, in British uniform. But, no matter how hard I had tried, I hadn't been able to track downjust who had been using it. I now learned that the vehicle had been brought across from England withthe CavalryUnit, and was being used, stupidly in a covert manner, and without authoristaion, for dropping off soldiers along the border, just as I had been told. And on the night of the shooting, instead ofwaiting for the morning and taking those who had come back from leave round the usual route to their locations in Crossmaglen and such places, a covert mini-van had been driven out of Gilford Castle, under the command of a Corporal, east-

ward along the border.

The mini-van broke down after an hour or so, just north of the Republic, in what is known as 'bandit country'. It had no radio communications whatsoever. So the Corporal in charge ordered his men to take up all-round defence, and prepared to wait until someone came to find them. They were still in civilian clothes, but armed with their regulation weapons. To add to his problems, instead of keeping them all together, he had despatched four ofthe troop to look for a telephone box where they could surnmon assistance and perhaps save him from some of the inevitable embarfassment. Such was the shambles they had got themselves into.

Not long afberwards, along the border road came two RUC vehicles; and of course the moment the police saw the mini van in their headlights, with civilians deployed around it, they leapt to the wrong conclusion. They stopped their cars along the road, and called up reinforcements, certain that they had come upon an IRA ambush. TWo more cars were summoned, from the opposite direction, and the police began moving slowly through the dark towards the soldiers.

They, in turn, were now sure that they were the intended victims of the Provisionals, since the unmarked RUC cars had stopped along the road, and no one had made any attempt at challenging them. So the Corporal decided to open frre, over the heads ofthe police, to try to scare them away. Fortunately, no one was hit. But it was the biggest mistake he could have made, for as yet the police had not fired a shot, but after coming under fire, they proceeded to fire back. At that point, the soldiers deployed round the mini van simply panicked and a number of them ran away across the fields, and weren't picked up until the following day. Inevitably, the police put through to the oncoming RUC units that they were under fire from the enemy, and to shoot first if they sighted any of them. The enemy turned out to be the four men sent to the telephone box. They had reached the nearest village by now; three were sitting on a wall, while the other tried to contact Gilford Castle - all in civilian clothes, and all armed.

63

Rushing along the road came the second unit of police' The moment they sighted the soldiers, they swerved offthe road, leaped out oftheir vehicles, and riddled the telephone box with bullets. Inevitably there were fatalities.

This time, when I made a formal apology on behalf of the Army to Charles Rodgers, Assistant Chief Constable, it was done without the least reluctance - and I was able to quieten some ofthe outrage felt at Mahon Road about what had happened. But, with hindsight, I can see how the incident represented the worst aspects ofboth forces.

I began to understand just how the IRA, in spite of the formidable odds against them, and their own lack of effective organisation and discipline, were managing to build their offensive, to the point when the Labour Government was prepared to negotiate a truce with them in January 1975. I had numerous contacts with active Provisionals, through intenogation and through various sources who had'turned', and so, in this respect as well I gained an insight into the situation, denied to most others in the security forces.

My habit in interrogation was never to resort to any kind of brutality, since I knew how counter-productive it was. While I had a lot of distaste for the Republicans who came my way, I had none of the open antipathy of the RUC - who sometimes used violence when interviewing suspects. I am aware ofthe allegations made about some ofthe treatment meted out iri Castlereagh, and it would be unfair to suggest that the British too have not resorted to certain kinds ofbrutality in the course ofinterrogation in Northern Ireland, as the International Court in Geneva confirmed. I can only say that I felt I achieved far more by persuasion and discussion thanby a clenched fist, orthe threat

oftorture.

In fact, I was lucky that this was my attitude. During 1974, one of a number of bombs we had been unable to detect had gone off in the T\rnnel area of Portadown. Two men had been lifted, and taken to Mahon Road Army camp where they were waiting to be interrogated.

One of them, a large man with a beard, I shall simply refer to as T. I found him to be an intelligent and engaging man, not the kind I would

expect to meet from the pirticular estate he came from, inthe north of Poitadown. His accomplice was a thin tall man, who said very little.

We had had word that ihe two of them had been involved with making a bomb, and we were pretty sure that this was one that had been activated. Only we had no proof- hence, the interrogation.

I arrived at the camp, and went into the oflice. Ordering the other taciturn character to stand in the corridor, I asked for T to come in to talk to me. The moment he sat down, he asked for a cigarette. I gave him one, then lit my pipe and started to question him. It soon became

apparent that nothing would make him talk about the bombing inwliich I was positive he was implicated. And, to his surprise, instead of issuing him with threats, I began to probe him about his motivation,

I

62

them by day. In other words, the border roads were partially out of bounds.

I had heard some weeks previously that a civilian vehicle had been operating in the border area, dropping soldiers offat various points, in British uniform. But, no matter how hard I had tried, I hadn't been able to track downjust who had been using it. I now learned that the vehicle had been brought across from England withthe CavalryUnit, and was being used, stupidly in a covert manner, and without authoristaion, for dropping off soldiers along the border, just as I had been told. And on the night of the shooting, instead ofwaiting for the morning and taking those who had come back from leave round the usual route to their locations in Crossmaglen and such places, a covert mini-van had been driven out of Gilford Castle, under the command of a Corporal, east-

ward along the border.

The mini-van broke down after an hour or so, just north of the Republic, in what is known as 'bandit country'. It had no radio communications whatsoever. So the Corporal in charge ordered his men to take up all-round defence, and prepared to wait until someone came to find them. They were still in civilian clothes, but armed with their regulation weapons. To add to his problems, instead of keeping them all together, he had despatched four ofthe troop to look for a telephone box where they could surnmon assistance and perhaps save him from some of the inevitable embarfassment. Such was the shambles they had got themselves into.

Not long afberwards, along the border road came two RUC vehicles; and of course the moment the police saw the mini van in their headlights, with civilians deployed around it, they leapt to the wrong conclusion. They stopped their cars along the road, and called up reinforcements, certain that they had come upon an IRA ambush. TWo more cars were summoned, from the opposite direction, and the police began moving slowly through the dark towards the soldiers.

They, in turn, were now sure that they were the intended victims of the Provisionals, since the unmarked RUC cars had stopped along the road, and no one had made any attempt at challenging them. So the Corporal decided to open frre, over the heads ofthe police, to try to scare them away. Fortunately, no one was hit. But it was the biggest mistake he could have made, for as yet the police had not fired a shot, but after coming under fire, they proceeded to fire back. At that point, the soldiers deployed round the mini van simply panicked and a number of them ran away across the fields, and weren't picked up until the following day. Inevitably, the police put through to the oncoming RUC units that they were under fire from the enemy, and to shoot first if they sighted any of them. The enemy turned out to be the four men sent to the telephone box. They had reached the nearest village by now; three were sitting on a wall, while the other tried to contact Gilford Castle - all in civilian clothes, and all armed.

63

Rushing along the road came the second unit of police' The moment they sighted the soldiers, they swerved offthe road, leaped out oftheir vehicles, and riddled the telephone box with bullets. Inevitably there were fatalities.

This time, when I made a formal apology on behalf of the Army to Charles Rodgers, Assistant Chief Constable, it was done without the least reluctance - and I was able to quieten some ofthe outrage felt at Mahon Road about what had happened. But, with hindsight, I can see how the incident represented the worst aspects ofboth forces.

I began to understand just how the IRA, in spite of the formidable odds against them, and their own lack of effective organisation and discipline, were managing to build their offensive, to the point when the Labour Government was prepared to negotiate a truce with them in January 1975. I had numerous contacts with active Provisionals, through intenogation and through various sources who had'turned', and so, in this respect as well I gained an insight into the situation, denied to most others in the security forces.

My habit in interrogation was never to resort to any kind of brutality, since I knew how counter-productive it was. While I had a lot of distaste for the Republicans who came my way, I had none of the open antipathy of the RUC - who sometimes used violence when interviewing suspects. I am aware ofthe allegations made about some ofthe treatment meted out iri Castlereagh, and it would be unfair to suggest that the British too have not resorted to certain kinds ofbrutality in the course ofinterrogation in Northern Ireland, as the International Court in Geneva confirmed. I can only say that I felt I achieved far more by persuasion and discussion thanby a clenched fist, orthe threat

oftorture.

In fact, I was lucky that this was my attitude. During 1974, one of a number of bombs we had been unable to detect had gone off in the T\rnnel area of Portadown. Two men had been lifted, and taken to Mahon Road Army camp where they were waiting to be interrogated.

One of them, a large man with a beard, I shall simply refer to as T. I found him to be an intelligent and engaging man, not the kind I would

expect to meet from the pirticular estate he came from, inthe north of Poitadown. His accomplice was a thin tall man, who said very little.

We had had word that ihe two of them had been involved with making a bomb, and we were pretty sure that this was one that had been activated. Only we had no proof- hence, the interrogation.

I arrived at the camp, and went into the oflice. Ordering the other taciturn character to stand in the corridor, I asked for T to come in to talk to me. The moment he sat down, he asked for a cigarette. I gave him one, then lit my pipe and started to question him. It soon became

apparent that nothing would make him talk about the bombing inwliich I was positive he was implicated. And, to his surprise, instead of issuing him with threats, I began to probe him about his motivation,

I

64

and t}re impossibility of his side ever winning the war. As I saw it, hd was bashing tri! head against a brick wall. No matter how many soldiers were killed the British would simply replace them. So long as the political will was there, the war would go on indefrnitely. I asked him why he didn't concentrate his efforts on political activities, and leave aside the more violent means. Of course, he simply replied that, as far as he was concerned, the British could never be trusted, and that no matter what progress was made peacefully, at the back of it all was the iron fist, that would soon hit out again when it didn't get its way. In the end, we must have drunk five or six cups of cofTee together and I quite forgot about the other man waiting outside. We both knew the score:.Hhadbeen pickedupthat evening, while he was still inthebath, scrylblng his fingernails clean. He reckoned he had been watching television - Coronation Street, as he said - but he couldn't tell me whJt a-ny of the regulars of the Rovers Return had been up to. I took a philosophical view of the whole business. Our IntelhgLnce network was _good, even though this incident had slipped through. T would get involved again, and next time we would nab him. After four hours or so, quietly gaining information from him that was certainly ofgeneral, if not specific use, I told him he could go. I let him know I knewivhat he had done and that I would be sure to see him again soon. T then had the l9rve tq protest that the area around Mahon Road was hardly safe for him and his friend to be released into - I took his point, and agreed to drive him downto thetown in a Landrover. As we were driving-along, I said quite plainly to him, since I knew all about the bearded S1,S min' cited in the local Republic broadsheet and some ofthe actions laid at my door, that I wanted to read none ofthe usual nonsense about either g!_them being worked over while I'd interrogated them - and that, if I did, my attitude would be very different in future. He told me not to be stupid, nothing of the kind would be printed. He too had appreciated our session together.

The next issue of the local Republican newspaper camied a photogra-ph of his accomplice bruised and beaten, and an article saying that both he and T had been beaten up by the'bearded SAS oflicer'in Mahon Road Camp while under interrogation. I was livid. So much so, that aQgt a month later, I too was guilty of a lack of discipline. I was walking at ttre top end oftown, in civilian clothes and I saw T standing in a particular pub entrance, frequented by the'boys', with a crowd o] his friends. I crossed the road, went straight up to him and grabbed his shirt. 'You bastard!'I cried. 'Next time, lwill give you a thumping'. T was so startled he said nothing, and his friends were so take.t aLack by my temerity^, lhey didn't come near me. As far as I was concerned, by this stage of_the qqme, my cover was ineffective among these peopll ?nyway and I couldn't contain my anger. Nonetheless, I realised h-ow foolhardy I'd been, and resolved to control myselfbetter in future.

As it was, in a very Irish fashion that incident might well have saved my life. Four months later, I was driving out of Coolstown and had run

65

out oftobacco. I stopped at a pub. There was a fire burning on the left hand side, and a darts match going on. And there, sitting rJund a table set in a corner was a gang of men I wouldn't have w"anted to meet togglher-oltsjde Mahon Road, let alone out here in the sticks, *fre"" i pu]{qafelV_{isappeer without trace!It was like a meeting of ine tocai IRA Lions Club or Round Table. I hesitated. At the sar;e moment T caught_sight of me, and without a word got up from the table and ushered me out of the door. He looked into my eyes and told me to gei the hell out of it. I did as I was told. It was his way of paying me Urc[.

I had made a point, in my early days, of walking through certain areas.-of Portadown, at a regular time, contrary to all-trainin!, in order to build up an image of someone who shourd be th"re you 4qltpryg4 +f only qhrase in an lrish accentwas,There"""""ttto"g[i] which I'd deliver with a canny nod. I changed my appeaiance";;;;;;; *.r"".i times, but I never stopped going out in lhe streets, listeninj, and watching. I learned how to blend in with my surroundings.

I-t- didn't, however, alyay-s work to my advantage, I recall only too well another of the bombs that went offin the Tuniel area <furini my tour. A patrol of the GreenHowards was.ghosting'down Obins S#eei, moving-from doolway to dogIwqy, opening andllosing the gaps be_ tween them, moving nlst I llock of hats, just under tfre Urijge. Th" lrovisionals were sitting- behind the flats, looking down thJ alley.

They _watched the frrst soldier come thrcugh, waitel a few moment"s, then detonated a directional bomb behind 6rire cormgated iron at the moment they expected the second soldier to go past. F-ortunately their timing.was-arrry. Nonetheless there *ar a-fi""ce explosion ind an immediate follow-up from Mahon Road, and the police station.

I heard what had happened and went to the scene at once, scrambling down the railway embankment and round the back of the houses.

So I approached the scene from behind. I could see the crowd millinj round under the streetlight, kfpt back by soldiers in uniform. I was, ai usual in civilian clothes._I-wallied quietiy up to the taped<ffarea, and

mingled amo{rg _the $publicans, keeping my ear open fo, *-oors "rry my neck, pâ&#x201A;Ź to who might have done the bombing, meanwhile straining like everyone else to see what was hapftning in the co"donedatrarea. ' I managed to squeeze towards the front, thanks to the movement of _ the- crowd. And it just happened that a Military police NCO from Road Camp was wilking past, who recognised me. Without Y*pl thinkinghe smacked his boot in, gave me atremeri<loue saluteandeaid 'Goo-d evening,_sir.' N,o sooner had'he done it, than he realisâ&#x201A;Źd h6;;;; his face crumpled and he quickly marched oit. t i" t"*:"*p"a o""r trrJ

cordon, rushep last the nolice and the forensic people a"a ais.ppe.""d

up-the tlrnnel as fast as my legs could carry me until I reached the safety of-the police station. It was often the very absurdity ofwhal

happened that made me realise just how close tragedy and farce haj become in this war. If any of the scenes I remember"besi epitomises the

I

64

and t}re impossibility of his side ever winning the war. As I saw it, hd was bashing tri! head against a brick wall. No matter how many soldiers were killed the British would simply replace them. So long as the political will was there, the war would go on indefrnitely. I asked him why he didn't concentrate his efforts on political activities, and leave aside the more violent means. Of course, he simply replied that, as far as he was concerned, the British could never be trusted, and that no matter what progress was made peacefully, at the back of it all was the iron fist, that would soon hit out again when it didn't get its way. In the end, we must have drunk five or six cups of cofTee together and I quite forgot about the other man waiting outside. We both knew the score:.Hhadbeen pickedupthat evening, while he was still inthebath, scrylblng his fingernails clean. He reckoned he had been watching television - Coronation Street, as he said - but he couldn't tell me whJt a-ny of the regulars of the Rovers Return had been up to. I took a philosophical view of the whole business. Our IntelhgLnce network was _good, even though this incident had slipped through. T would get involved again, and next time we would nab him. After four hours or so, quietly gaining information from him that was certainly ofgeneral, if not specific use, I told him he could go. I let him know I knewivhat he had done and that I would be sure to see him again soon. T then had the l9rve tq protest that the area around Mahon Road was hardly safe for him and his friend to be released into - I took his point, and agreed to drive him downto thetown in a Landrover. As we were driving-along, I said quite plainly to him, since I knew all about the bearded S1,S min' cited in the local Republic broadsheet and some ofthe actions laid at my door, that I wanted to read none ofthe usual nonsense about either g!_them being worked over while I'd interrogated them - and that, if I did, my attitude would be very different in future. He told me not to be stupid, nothing of the kind would be printed. He too had appreciated our session together.

The next issue of the local Republican newspaper camied a photogra-ph of his accomplice bruised and beaten, and an article saying that both he and T had been beaten up by the'bearded SAS oflicer'in Mahon Road Camp while under interrogation. I was livid. So much so, that aQgt a month later, I too was guilty of a lack of discipline. I was walking at ttre top end oftown, in civilian clothes and I saw T standing in a particular pub entrance, frequented by the'boys', with a crowd o] his friends. I crossed the road, went straight up to him and grabbed his shirt. 'You bastard!'I cried. 'Next time, lwill give you a thumping'. T was so startled he said nothing, and his friends were so take.t aLack by my temerity^, lhey didn't come near me. As far as I was concerned, by this stage of_the qqme, my cover was ineffective among these peopll ?nyway and I couldn't contain my anger. Nonetheless, I realised h-ow foolhardy I'd been, and resolved to control myselfbetter in future.

As it was, in a very Irish fashion that incident might well have saved my life. Four months later, I was driving out of Coolstown and had run

65

out oftobacco. I stopped at a pub. There was a fire burning on the left hand side, and a darts match going on. And there, sitting rJund a table set in a corner was a gang of men I wouldn't have w"anted to meet togglher-oltsjde Mahon Road, let alone out here in the sticks, *fre"" i pu]{qafelV_{isappeer without trace!It was like a meeting of ine tocai IRA Lions Club or Round Table. I hesitated. At the sar;e moment T caught_sight of me, and without a word got up from the table and ushered me out of the door. He looked into my eyes and told me to gei the hell out of it. I did as I was told. It was his way of paying me Urc[.

I had made a point, in my early days, of walking through certain areas.-of Portadown, at a regular time, contrary to all-trainin!, in order to build up an image of someone who shourd be th"re you 4qltpryg4 +f only qhrase in an lrish accentwas,There"""""ttto"g[i] which I'd deliver with a canny nod. I changed my appeaiance";;;;;;; *.r"".i times, but I never stopped going out in lhe streets, listeninj, and watching. I learned how to blend in with my surroundings.

I-t- didn't, however, alyay-s work to my advantage, I recall only too well another of the bombs that went offin the Tuniel area <furini my tour. A patrol of the GreenHowards was.ghosting'down Obins S#eei, moving-from doolway to dogIwqy, opening andllosing the gaps be_ tween them, moving nlst I llock of hats, just under tfre Urijge. Th" lrovisionals were sitting- behind the flats, looking down thJ alley.

They _watched the frrst soldier come thrcugh, waitel a few moment"s, then detonated a directional bomb behind 6rire cormgated iron at the moment they expected the second soldier to go past. F-ortunately their timing.was-arrry. Nonetheless there *ar a-fi""ce explosion ind an immediate follow-up from Mahon Road, and the police station.

I heard what had happened and went to the scene at once, scrambling down the railway embankment and round the back of the houses.

So I approached the scene from behind. I could see the crowd millinj round under the streetlight, kfpt back by soldiers in uniform. I was, ai usual in civilian clothes._I-wallied quietiy up to the taped<ffarea, and

mingled amo{rg _the $publicans, keeping my ear open fo, *-oors "rry my neck, pâ&#x201A;Ź to who might have done the bombing, meanwhile straining like everyone else to see what was hapftning in the co"donedatrarea. ' I managed to squeeze towards the front, thanks to the movement of _ the- crowd. And it just happened that a Military police NCO from Road Camp was wilking past, who recognised me. Without Y*pl thinkinghe smacked his boot in, gave me atremeri<loue saluteandeaid 'Goo-d evening,_sir.' N,o sooner had'he done it, than he realisâ&#x201A;Źd h6;;;; his face crumpled and he quickly marched oit. t i" t"*:"*p"a o""r trrJ

cordon, rushep last the nolice and the forensic people a"a ais.ppe.""d

up-the tlrnnel as fast as my legs could carry me until I reached the safety of-the police station. It was often the very absurdity ofwhal

happened that made me realise just how close tragedy and farce haj become in this war. If any of the scenes I remember"besi epitomises the

I

66

pathos and absurdity, and yet the stubbornees ofthe people involved, it is that of the Chalet Bar, in Portadown.

The offrcial name of the Chalet Bar was the Shamrock Club, which stood on the corner of Mahon Road, the main route from portadown to

It was a Catholic financed pub in the heart of a Protestant area, and in the whole time I was there I think it operated as a business for two two-week periods.

Otherwise, it was either standing in ruins or being rebuilt, the proArmagh, opposite the stock car racing stadium.

testant bombers favourite target.

I had none of the RUC's reticence in dealing with the UVF and UDA boys, and whenever I had reason to believe the Chalet was going to be attacked, I did my best to stop it. But it seemed fate was against me. On

one occ-asion the tip--offI had received was red hot the bar was going to be blown up the same night. I went down to Mahon Road to try and ar"-ang_e-an ambush. But it was just my luck that the Regiment installed there was the Duke of Edinburgh's Royal Regiment, and the Captainl hadto deal with, Adam W. wasthe same manwho, as aMIO

in his

previous tour had tried to break into the RUC SB files in Portadown, which had led me to be interposted to the area. These

soldiers were only in Mahon Road to reorganlse before they went home, {nge -they had been iirvolved in a horrific incident at the range ai B_allykinla, when sixteen of their number had been blown up in the NAAFI there. So it was predictable that Adam W. now back wittr tris battalion would be reluctant to take them out to defend a Catholic bar.

Nor-retheless, that was his duty. But when I requested a unit to lay the ambush, Adam W. refused. And, sure enough, that night the Ciralet was blown up - needlessly - and the bombers went free, to strike again.

But I'm happy to say this wasn't always the case. On another occagton, I got the tip-off that a Double Diamond keg bomb had been hidden in a desert€d house in Edgarstown, a staunchly protestant area, and was determined some effective action should be taken. The Chalet Bar was just nearing completion, yet again, and it seemed the obvious target. I duly got in touch with the Army and asked for an ambush party. And again my request was declin-ed since they were appalently_too busy with other matters. But I was determined to carry tbis through, so I got hold of a Signals officer who worked at Brigadi HQ - a non--combatant who was eager to see some action and whJhad offered to assist me if ever I was ihort handed. I told him now his chance had come.

We sat in a car parked at the entrance to the stock car stadium for four nights, slumped in the seats, dozing fitfully and very cold. By then my colleague had had enough, and decided to go back to his other dr'.ties., On the next night I saw a vehicle approach-The Chalet like an old fashioned green post offrce van - veryilowly, with no lights on. It went^through Mahon Road, reversed and parked outside thJbar. I got out of the car v-ery quietly, carrying my sub-machine gun, and pullt across the roof. TVo men climbed out of the van, and as I expected,

67

began manhandling the Double Diamond keg across the forecourt.

They got to the entrance - one returned to the van, the other lit a match for the fuse. I shouted across the road -'If you light that fuse, you're a deai man. If you walk away or pull a weapon, Itll shoot you anyway.'

Suddenly the van started up and swerved offdown Mahon Road. Tire man by the kegwas left shrieking afterhis mate,'Don,t leave me, don,t leave me you bastard!'And then he promptly burst into tears. I went across and anested him.

So, on-that ocrasion at least the Chalet Bar was saved. The offender, never brought to court, began a new life as an informer. It says a lot for the determination of the Catholic owners that they continued to re-

build, and try to function as a business.

Just before Christmas, 1974, at about five in the afternoon, I wae driving down Mahon Road back into town, and as I neared the junction, immediately to 1nf riSht I saw three figures jump down from a van, leap over the wall to the bar and disappear. ttrl building was just near to completio! once more. I swerved violently off the road, nearly causing a multiple pile-up, and parked across the pavement. I leaped

out, ready to go in alone. But, as I turned and lookedup the road I saw a o-atrol of soldiers coming towards me - all loaded up with Christmas s_hopping, including the odd fir tree - though still with their rifles, as they were just coming offduty. They should have been more alert to their own security. I rushed up to them furiously, but there was no time to give them a bollocking. I simply said'Chalet Bar - three men over the wall! Come on!'The Corporal turned to his men, ordered them to ,No, no {rop all the shopping and follow me. But the men protested that's a present for the wife!' and so on. I lost my tLmper then, cailed them a shambles and told one man to stay with the stuhwhile the rest deployed to the bar.

We reached the wall, got over quietly, then inched towards the bu']ding._We could hear the sound of voices inside. I gave the signal and we all rushed in through the open doorways. There were the three men, sitting oq the floor, playing cards. They threw their arms up at o_nce, and stood there quivering. 'Don't shoot! Don't shoot!'I shouted, 'Who are you?' and the answer came back -'We're working here we've come to put the windows in.'And so they had. Apparently, the foreman alone had.the key to the gate, and rather than sit *.iti.tg outside, theyhad decided to come overthe wall. We checkedtheir story through, and mumbling apologies, went back into the snow. The oli'ended soldiers smiled smugly at me.

It took me some time to live that one down - but the most bizarre incident at the Chalet didn't involve me directly, and at least proved that the Army weren't totally indifferent to its fate. Though, once again, perhaps discretion might have proved the better part . . .

It was a similar scenario. The bar almost complete. But this time, it was two o'clock in the morning. A particular old man I shall only refer

66

pathos and absurdity, and yet the stubbornees ofthe people involved, it is that of the Chalet Bar, in Portadown.

The offrcial name of the Chalet Bar was the Shamrock Club, which stood on the corner of Mahon Road, the main route from portadown to

It was a Catholic financed pub in the heart of a Protestant area, and in the whole time I was there I think it operated as a business for two two-week periods.

Otherwise, it was either standing in ruins or being rebuilt, the proArmagh, opposite the stock car racing stadium.

testant bombers favourite target.

I had none of the RUC's reticence in dealing with the UVF and UDA boys, and whenever I had reason to believe the Chalet was going to be attacked, I did my best to stop it. But it seemed fate was against me. On

one occ-asion the tip--offI had received was red hot the bar was going to be blown up the same night. I went down to Mahon Road to try and ar"-ang_e-an ambush. But it was just my luck that the Regiment installed there was the Duke of Edinburgh's Royal Regiment, and the Captainl hadto deal with, Adam W. wasthe same manwho, as aMIO

in his

previous tour had tried to break into the RUC SB files in Portadown, which had led me to be interposted to the area. These

soldiers were only in Mahon Road to reorganlse before they went home, {nge -they had been iirvolved in a horrific incident at the range ai B_allykinla, when sixteen of their number had been blown up in the NAAFI there. So it was predictable that Adam W. now back wittr tris battalion would be reluctant to take them out to defend a Catholic bar.

Nor-retheless, that was his duty. But when I requested a unit to lay the ambush, Adam W. refused. And, sure enough, that night the Ciralet was blown up - needlessly - and the bombers went free, to strike again.

But I'm happy to say this wasn't always the case. On another occagton, I got the tip-off that a Double Diamond keg bomb had been hidden in a desert€d house in Edgarstown, a staunchly protestant area, and was determined some effective action should be taken. The Chalet Bar was just nearing completion, yet again, and it seemed the obvious target. I duly got in touch with the Army and asked for an ambush party. And again my request was declin-ed since they were appalently_too busy with other matters. But I was determined to carry tbis through, so I got hold of a Signals officer who worked at Brigadi HQ - a non--combatant who was eager to see some action and whJhad offered to assist me if ever I was ihort handed. I told him now his chance had come.

We sat in a car parked at the entrance to the stock car stadium for four nights, slumped in the seats, dozing fitfully and very cold. By then my colleague had had enough, and decided to go back to his other dr'.ties., On the next night I saw a vehicle approach-The Chalet like an old fashioned green post offrce van - veryilowly, with no lights on. It went^through Mahon Road, reversed and parked outside thJbar. I got out of the car v-ery quietly, carrying my sub-machine gun, and pullt across the roof. TVo men climbed out of the van, and as I expected,

67

began manhandling the Double Diamond keg across the forecourt.

They got to the entrance - one returned to the van, the other lit a match for the fuse. I shouted across the road -'If you light that fuse, you're a deai man. If you walk away or pull a weapon, Itll shoot you anyway.'

Suddenly the van started up and swerved offdown Mahon Road. Tire man by the kegwas left shrieking afterhis mate,'Don,t leave me, don,t leave me you bastard!'And then he promptly burst into tears. I went across and anested him.

So, on-that ocrasion at least the Chalet Bar was saved. The offender, never brought to court, began a new life as an informer. It says a lot for the determination of the Catholic owners that they continued to re-

build, and try to function as a business.

Just before Christmas, 1974, at about five in the afternoon, I wae driving down Mahon Road back into town, and as I neared the junction, immediately to 1nf riSht I saw three figures jump down from a van, leap over the wall to the bar and disappear. ttrl building was just near to completio! once more. I swerved violently off the road, nearly causing a multiple pile-up, and parked across the pavement. I leaped

out, ready to go in alone. But, as I turned and lookedup the road I saw a o-atrol of soldiers coming towards me - all loaded up with Christmas s_hopping, including the odd fir tree - though still with their rifles, as they were just coming offduty. They should have been more alert to their own security. I rushed up to them furiously, but there was no time to give them a bollocking. I simply said'Chalet Bar - three men over the wall! Come on!'The Corporal turned to his men, ordered them to ,No, no {rop all the shopping and follow me. But the men protested that's a present for the wife!' and so on. I lost my tLmper then, cailed them a shambles and told one man to stay with the stuhwhile the rest deployed to the bar.

We reached the wall, got over quietly, then inched towards the bu']ding._We could hear the sound of voices inside. I gave the signal and we all rushed in through the open doorways. There were the three men, sitting oq the floor, playing cards. They threw their arms up at o_nce, and stood there quivering. 'Don't shoot! Don't shoot!'I shouted, 'Who are you?' and the answer came back -'We're working here we've come to put the windows in.'And so they had. Apparently, the foreman alone had.the key to the gate, and rather than sit *.iti.tg outside, theyhad decided to come overthe wall. We checkedtheir story through, and mumbling apologies, went back into the snow. The oli'ended soldiers smiled smugly at me.

It took me some time to live that one down - but the most bizarre incident at the Chalet didn't involve me directly, and at least proved that the Army weren't totally indifferent to its fate. Though, once again, perhaps discretion might have proved the better part . . .

It was a similar scenario. The bar almost complete. But this time, it was two o'clock in the morning. A particular old man I shall only refer

69

68

to as Sam (to spare his blushes, rather than to protect-him-from any

violence) had been out drinking in Portadown, and was heading upthe Armaetr road on his way back-to his smallholditg. e" he allproached M"ftofr Road, he felt a dlsperate need to empty his bowels' He caught sight of the dark, empty building on his-right, and reckoned that would bias good a place aiany, given hissudden need. He would at leagt be shelteied, and more than likely, frnd a peice of sacking or something to clean himself up with.

What Sam didn't know was that a patrol had gone in a few hours before, after we had received another tip+ffthat the Protestants were

ioing'to blow the place up. Ttre soldiers had settled in round the f,uiliing, inside the wa[, but had grown so tired and numb with waitingtiheyhad all fallen asleep. Thismay soundhardto credit, but it happeied rlguhrly with men who had been on a hard tour, and were o"d6""a to [eep watch for too long at a stretch. More difficult to

understand is how sam managed to wend his way into the chalet Bar without waking any of them. But he did. And there he squatted, in a dark corner, rel-ieving himself on the concrete floor. But unfortunately, there was no sign of iry sacking or paper, anddrunk as he was, he had quite forgotten-to prepar,e himself beforehand. So Sam lit a match to see what he could find.

Shortly before he did rltl' one of the soldiers stirred, at last, at thesound co'ming from the bar. f,Ie woke the man next to him - and of course, they iecided instantly that this must be the bombers. Instead of waking up-the rest of the seAion, these two crept forward; and as they got level withthe door sam struckhismatch. KnowingthatProtestant [ombers use black powder fuses that hpd to be lit, the two soldiers opened frre.

The rest of the squad nearly jumped out of their skins, assumed they were coming undei fire, and let rip in the direction of the shots. Ttre Chalet Bar-was riddled with bullets, coming through every door and window. Each man in the patrol had 4 magazines, with 20 rounds in each - and they let it all go.

Whenthe frring stopped, the two soldiers toldthe Corporal indrarge what they had seen. The patrol moved in, expecting to frnd-the dead terroristi lying in the bar. Instead, they found Sam, still alive, still squatting with his trousers round his ankles, begging forgiveness'

They got him on his feet and cleaned him up, took him dowl to.th9 police stition and made him give a statement. It was at that point -that i was called in. Sam was still in a very bad state of shock - and all he had been doing was trespassing when the Army had oPgned fir-e 9n the tti*. f he chob to, he could file for a hefty compensation, -an4

reputation of the security forces wouldhardly be enhanced' So I-y3s asked to talk to him to Lxplain what had happened. In fact, all-he wanted to do was to go home and try to forget about it. And, over a tew

very sweet cups of tea, this is what I encouraged him to do' He took his

leave of me, still shaking and vowing that he would never have a shit' anywhere but in his own house ever again, safe in his own toilet' with the door firmly shut.

So the Chalet Bar became a victim once again, though this time more by accident than design, and the plaiterers moved in to frll the pogkmarks, the windows anddoorswere installed. I believethatlater inthe seventies, it did actually open for some time, so the determination of its owners was justly rewarded.

One of the most farcical of my recollections occurred one afternoon in Craigavon. I was driving through typical Irish weather: pouring rain, visibility down to a few yards. As I came to a large culvert I could see q lot of activity by the side of the road, where a big van was parked, with a gang ofmen acting suspiciously around it. I pulled in at once, and got out of the car, w'ith my gun at the ready. I approached the men slowly through the rain, almost certain that they were involved in some kind ofterrorist activity, since there had been 80 much in that area at that time. When I reached them, I saw I was right to think they were acting suspiciously - they were loading a steamroller, that had been left idle at some roadworks, into the back of the van, in order to transport it elsewhere and sell it. I had no option but to arregt them. But I couldn't

It took me back to Ashford, and the Securicor van outside the high street bank.

I made use of the independence the job offered me in the field, and I was aware that my colleagues at Brigade HQ in Lurgan remained ill-disposed towards me, for this very reason. But I was alwayg cgnfrdent that my CO at SMIU Knock would support me and I would have the weight of ldr Smellie at Lisbum behind me, I had no idea that I would be left open to the kind of treatment that was to befall me in the spring of 1975. But then, I was in no position to understandjust what was happening behind the scenes. I knew little.about MI5, or the rivalry between it and itg sister service, that was to make Ulster yet another kind oftesting ground. help laughing.

69

68

to as Sam (to spare his blushes, rather than to protect-him-from any

violence) had been out drinking in Portadown, and was heading upthe Armaetr road on his way back-to his smallholditg. e" he allproached M"ftofr Road, he felt a dlsperate need to empty his bowels' He caught sight of the dark, empty building on his-right, and reckoned that would bias good a place aiany, given hissudden need. He would at leagt be shelteied, and more than likely, frnd a peice of sacking or something to clean himself up with.

What Sam didn't know was that a patrol had gone in a few hours before, after we had received another tip+ffthat the Protestants were

ioing'to blow the place up. Ttre soldiers had settled in round the f,uiliing, inside the wa[, but had grown so tired and numb with waitingtiheyhad all fallen asleep. Thismay soundhardto credit, but it happeied rlguhrly with men who had been on a hard tour, and were o"d6""a to [eep watch for too long at a stretch. More difficult to

understand is how sam managed to wend his way into the chalet Bar without waking any of them. But he did. And there he squatted, in a dark corner, rel-ieving himself on the concrete floor. But unfortunately, there was no sign of iry sacking or paper, anddrunk as he was, he had quite forgotten-to prepar,e himself beforehand. So Sam lit a match to see what he could find.

Shortly before he did rltl' one of the soldiers stirred, at last, at thesound co'ming from the bar. f,Ie woke the man next to him - and of course, they iecided instantly that this must be the bombers. Instead of waking up-the rest of the seAion, these two crept forward; and as they got level withthe door sam struckhismatch. KnowingthatProtestant [ombers use black powder fuses that hpd to be lit, the two soldiers opened frre.

The rest of the squad nearly jumped out of their skins, assumed they were coming undei fire, and let rip in the direction of the shots. Ttre Chalet Bar-was riddled with bullets, coming through every door and window. Each man in the patrol had 4 magazines, with 20 rounds in each - and they let it all go.

Whenthe frring stopped, the two soldiers toldthe Corporal indrarge what they had seen. The patrol moved in, expecting to frnd-the dead terroristi lying in the bar. Instead, they found Sam, still alive, still squatting with his trousers round his ankles, begging forgiveness'

They got him on his feet and cleaned him up, took him dowl to.th9 police stition and made him give a statement. It was at that point -that i was called in. Sam was still in a very bad state of shock - and all he had been doing was trespassing when the Army had oPgned fir-e 9n the tti*. f he chob to, he could file for a hefty compensation, -an4

reputation of the security forces wouldhardly be enhanced' So I-y3s asked to talk to him to Lxplain what had happened. In fact, all-he wanted to do was to go home and try to forget about it. And, over a tew

very sweet cups of tea, this is what I encouraged him to do' He took his

leave of me, still shaking and vowing that he would never have a shit' anywhere but in his own house ever again, safe in his own toilet' with the door firmly shut.

So the Chalet Bar became a victim once again, though this time more by accident than design, and the plaiterers moved in to frll the pogkmarks, the windows anddoorswere installed. I believethatlater inthe seventies, it did actually open for some time, so the determination of its owners was justly rewarded.

One of the most farcical of my recollections occurred one afternoon in Craigavon. I was driving through typical Irish weather: pouring rain, visibility down to a few yards. As I came to a large culvert I could see q lot of activity by the side of the road, where a big van was parked, with a gang ofmen acting suspiciously around it. I pulled in at once, and got out of the car, w'ith my gun at the ready. I approached the men slowly through the rain, almost certain that they were involved in some kind ofterrorist activity, since there had been 80 much in that area at that time. When I reached them, I saw I was right to think they were acting suspiciously - they were loading a steamroller, that had been left idle at some roadworks, into the back of the van, in order to transport it elsewhere and sell it. I had no option but to arregt them. But I couldn't

It took me back to Ashford, and the Securicor van outside the high street bank.

I made use of the independence the job offered me in the field, and I was aware that my colleagues at Brigade HQ in Lurgan remained ill-disposed towards me, for this very reason. But I was alwayg cgnfrdent that my CO at SMIU Knock would support me and I would have the weight of ldr Smellie at Lisbum behind me, I had no idea that I would be left open to the kind of treatment that was to befall me in the spring of 1975. But then, I was in no position to understandjust what was happening behind the scenes. I knew little.about MI5, or the rivalry between it and itg sister service, that was to make Ulster yet another kind oftesting ground. help laughing.

71

access to better Intelligence material. The plan was this. p had regruitqd a vgry simple young Republican lad, who had recently been

b

DIRTYTRICKS The label 'dirty tricks'has been used

so

widely over recent years that

it

has lost much of its original impact. But to me it remains the best description ofwhat I discovered happening in Ireland during the time I served there. The phrase refers to the lengths to which t[e security ag_encies are prepared to go, in order to eliminate Irish terrorists, on whatever soil they may be found. As far as I am concerned there is a

very simple law in this: if the forces of the State allow themselves to act as those they are commanded to defeat, then in a sense they are shown to be losing the battle. For the success in that battle depends, not on purely military victories, but on the moral ground that those victories are won. There are always going to be so--called 'grey areas'; and the operations based upon intelhgence work fall, perhaps, into the greyest ofall. But even here, the security forceS must be seen to act within the law. I have to admit, however, thai while I was a witness to such operations, on my tour I did not feel at the time that it as my role or duty to try to intervene. I was very much f1glting on the 'side of the crown' - I saw soldiers, policernen and civilians callously murdered by the Provisional IRA, ind to a lesser extent, similar crimes committed by the Protestant terror groups.

The dirty tricks I am aware of involved allbranches of the security ^ forces with whom I worked in tg74-75: the Army, the security agencies MI5 and MI6, and the RUC. They were carried out on botir sides ofthe border and ranged from the professionally disreputable to murder. In 1973 when StaffSergeant P arrived in Dungannon, to work as thetr'INCOthere, he encountered many ofthe problemsthatlhad in Portadown - and he was never offered the same chances to overcome them. He was a well built, serious man, who barely got out of the habit of talking aloud in a strong English accent, let alone of frnding his way subtly through the cracks in the community where he mighi pick up useful Intelligence. As a result, he quickly became extremely frustrated in his work - I was well aware of this, since he moved onto the estate at Craigavon next to my own FINCO Sgt I and I would meet him and his family at weekends. dly i" the summer of 1g74, P asked me to drive up to Lough ^-One Shore with him. It was, predictably, a wet gloomy day. We sat in tLe car, and he began to tell me the plan he had originated, which he hoped would result in successful operations in his area, enabling him to get

with the same degree of brutal illegality

brought in for questioning by the Army, and intended to use him as an infrltrator into the local IRA battalion. If at all possible, he would try to make sure he went south to a training camp in the Republic, and fiom there he might pass back all kinds of usefuiinformation to the security forces. The plan seemed somewhat far-fetched, but not that much more so than many others I knew had borne fruit.

In fact, the whole project turned out to be an unmitigated disaster, and provided the frrst example of an occasion when I knew that through the covert actions of the British Army, innocent lives were lost in Northern lreland, and those ultimately responsible were never brought tojustice.

P's recruit barely knew what he was really meant to be doing. The plan was that the Army should conveniently hnd some ammunitlion in a cigarette packet in his bedroom, and young Columba McVeigh, who was still just seventeen, would go on the run, and try to make-contact yjth-t_hg nrqvisionals. The first part at least went according to plan. the rycJeigh household was raided at dawn gn a September-morning; the soldiers charged straight up to Columb.t t droo* and found th"e ammunition, just where their 'source' had apparently told them it would be - though of course that source was P liimself.'McVeigh duly

escaped.

_ It had been S/Sgt P's intention that the lad would contact a priest from a village nearby, whom he suspected was an important link in the IRA escape route to the south. But here he met his first problem.

The suspected priest refused to have anything to do with him - and he had to seek shelter with another man of the cloth, who had no political cunections whatever. Confused and frightened, McVeigh then

walked openly into Dungannon police station, where S/Sgt P was based, to ask him what he should do next. The police were dumbfounded, since he had made sure the lad had gone onto the wanted list, to help build up appearances. And he had to go to some trouble to make

sure he was released again, explaining to the embarrassed officers something of what he was doing. A week later, an Army patrol picked him up, and he was charged with illegal possession of ammunition.

By all accounts, it would have been obvious to the local'boyos'that McVeigh wasn't what he had been set up to appear. But he persisted with his plan. The lad went to court, and as he had been instructed, refused to recognise its jurisdiction: the standard IRA response. He was despatched to Crumlin Road jail. And there, inevitably, he was badly beaten up by the Provisionals, who knew he was some kind of plant. Desperately trying to get himself off the hook, he confessed his involvement with the security forces, and promised to give them a list of names of people he knew had been cooperating with the British.

71

access to better Intelligence material. The plan was this. p had regruitqd a vgry simple young Republican lad, who had recently been

b

DIRTYTRICKS The label 'dirty tricks'has been used

so

widely over recent years that

it

has lost much of its original impact. But to me it remains the best description ofwhat I discovered happening in Ireland during the time I served there. The phrase refers to the lengths to which t[e security ag_encies are prepared to go, in order to eliminate Irish terrorists, on whatever soil they may be found. As far as I am concerned there is a

very simple law in this: if the forces of the State allow themselves to act as those they are commanded to defeat, then in a sense they are shown to be losing the battle. For the success in that battle depends, not on purely military victories, but on the moral ground that those victories are won. There are always going to be so--called 'grey areas'; and the operations based upon intelhgence work fall, perhaps, into the greyest ofall. But even here, the security forceS must be seen to act within the law. I have to admit, however, thai while I was a witness to such operations, on my tour I did not feel at the time that it as my role or duty to try to intervene. I was very much f1glting on the 'side of the crown' - I saw soldiers, policernen and civilians callously murdered by the Provisional IRA, ind to a lesser extent, similar crimes committed by the Protestant terror groups.

The dirty tricks I am aware of involved allbranches of the security ^ forces with whom I worked in tg74-75: the Army, the security agencies MI5 and MI6, and the RUC. They were carried out on botir sides ofthe border and ranged from the professionally disreputable to murder. In 1973 when StaffSergeant P arrived in Dungannon, to work as thetr'INCOthere, he encountered many ofthe problemsthatlhad in Portadown - and he was never offered the same chances to overcome them. He was a well built, serious man, who barely got out of the habit of talking aloud in a strong English accent, let alone of frnding his way subtly through the cracks in the community where he mighi pick up useful Intelligence. As a result, he quickly became extremely frustrated in his work - I was well aware of this, since he moved onto the estate at Craigavon next to my own FINCO Sgt I and I would meet him and his family at weekends. dly i" the summer of 1g74, P asked me to drive up to Lough ^-One Shore with him. It was, predictably, a wet gloomy day. We sat in tLe car, and he began to tell me the plan he had originated, which he hoped would result in successful operations in his area, enabling him to get

with the same degree of brutal illegality

brought in for questioning by the Army, and intended to use him as an infrltrator into the local IRA battalion. If at all possible, he would try to make sure he went south to a training camp in the Republic, and fiom there he might pass back all kinds of usefuiinformation to the security forces. The plan seemed somewhat far-fetched, but not that much more so than many others I knew had borne fruit.

In fact, the whole project turned out to be an unmitigated disaster, and provided the frrst example of an occasion when I knew that through the covert actions of the British Army, innocent lives were lost in Northern lreland, and those ultimately responsible were never brought tojustice.

P's recruit barely knew what he was really meant to be doing. The plan was that the Army should conveniently hnd some ammunitlion in a cigarette packet in his bedroom, and young Columba McVeigh, who was still just seventeen, would go on the run, and try to make-contact yjth-t_hg nrqvisionals. The first part at least went according to plan. the rycJeigh household was raided at dawn gn a September-morning; the soldiers charged straight up to Columb.t t droo* and found th"e ammunition, just where their 'source' had apparently told them it would be - though of course that source was P liimself.'McVeigh duly

escaped.

_ It had been S/Sgt P's intention that the lad would contact a priest from a village nearby, whom he suspected was an important link in the IRA escape route to the south. But here he met his first problem.

The suspected priest refused to have anything to do with him - and he had to seek shelter with another man of the cloth, who had no political cunections whatever. Confused and frightened, McVeigh then

walked openly into Dungannon police station, where S/Sgt P was based, to ask him what he should do next. The police were dumbfounded, since he had made sure the lad had gone onto the wanted list, to help build up appearances. And he had to go to some trouble to make

sure he was released again, explaining to the embarrassed officers something of what he was doing. A week later, an Army patrol picked him up, and he was charged with illegal possession of ammunition.

By all accounts, it would have been obvious to the local'boyos'that McVeigh wasn't what he had been set up to appear. But he persisted with his plan. The lad went to court, and as he had been instructed, refused to recognise its jurisdiction: the standard IRA response. He was despatched to Crumlin Road jail. And there, inevitably, he was badly beaten up by the Provisionals, who knew he was some kind of plant. Desperately trying to get himself off the hook, he confessed his involvement with the security forces, and promised to give them a list of names of people he knew had been cooperating with the British.

72

The Provisionals sent the list out of the jail in a coded letter. It was, as a matter ofcourse, intercepted and decoded - at 3 Infantry Brigade HQ where I saw it. The list was an absurd fabrication, including a solicitor from Dungannon and a perfectly respectable SDLP politician.

But, more absurdly, and yet as it turned out, more tragically, at the head of the names of the Protestants supposedly involved in hostile activities, was the McVeigh's milkman, who came from the same part

oftown.

S/Sgt P's plan, then, had already failed miserably. But it was too late now for him to try to undo it. He had let the police release the lad, he had made sure the Army processed him, he had put him through the courts and into prison on remand. Now, to make matters worse, in January 1975, McVeigh was only given a suspended sentence, which even had there been no doubts before about his authenticity would now ensure that the Provisionals were aware of a plant in their midst - for no one accused of membership and arrest€d on such a charge had been released in this way. More frightened and confused than ever, Columba McVeigh fled south to Dublinwith hisbrother, knowingthat, in effect, he had openly been branded an informer, despite the fact that he had had nothing to inform anybody of, and had all along been set up

by S/Sgt P. The lad disappeared without trace.

One can only assume that the release, which Father Dennis Faul has called 'tantamount to a death sentence' led to his subsequent execution by the IRA. But McVeigh's is not the only life ruined or lost by S/Sgt P's actions. On the 11th February 1975 a murder was carried out in Pomeroy, a village just outside Dungannon. The intended target was the milkman on McVeigh's list of names. However, the man concerned was not on his usual round that day. Another Protestant - Christopher Mein, twenty nine years old, and only recently married - had taken it on, on that particular morning, as relief roundsman. The hovisionals killed him, thinking he was a member of the UVF. In fact, he had no political connections at all. An innocent man had been murdered.

The whole incident appalled me, as it did the local police - for if my

relations to the RUC hadbeenfrostywhenl firstarrived inPortadwon, as far as the RUC in Dungannon were concerned S/Sgit P might just have well not existed after Mein was shot. In fact, it was not long before he was posted: the police began their own investigation into what had happened. However, no charges were ever laid at P's feet seryes

intheArmy.

-

he still

In fairness to S/Sgt P, the plans he had executed were conceived in headquarters 3 Brigade's Intelligence Offrce and he was merely a tool of the staffofficers there who had no experience of the situation on the ground. So that his career would not suffer, 3 Brigade created a post of FINCO in their own headquarbers and it was to there that the S/Sgt was posted after the debacle. He is currently serving in the Intelligence Corps as a commissionedoffrcer.

It was S/Sgt P back in March 1974 who also gave me my first insight into some of the crtss-border operations which, far from being simple excursions in search of Intelligence, involved both attempted kidnapping, and straightfonn'ard political assassination.

TWo loyalists

-

ex-boxers

-

wene being hired by the Army to cross

the border, to kidnap a wanted man living in County Monaghan:

Eamonn McGurgan, a known Republican. Some days later, I came into Brigade HQ to frnd everyone running around like scalded cats, trying to get 9500 of unattributable funds sent from Lisburn because the money to pay the boxere had failed to arrive. Eventually, the funds came through. And the kidnap attempt was echeduled to go ahead, just as Tony

Phadtoldme.

In order for this to happen, the area around McGurgan's house had to be frozen, in other words, someone from the other side of the border had to ensure that there would be no police presence for as long as the operation went on, in that part of County Monaghan. This had been duly arranged, with a contact in t,Le Garda. The boxere would go over, knock McGurgan unconscious, tie him up with a sack over his head and dump him at a specific spot back across the border. A squad of soldiers on patrol would then conveniently find him and he would be arrested.

Like the planwith ColumbaMcVeigh, this one too wentbadly awry.

On the particular night in question, a member of Seanad Eireann, Senator Billy Fox, was shot near Castleblayney. The Garda contact could no longer guarantee that the area would be 'Frozen'. But the message came through too late to stop the Ioyalists leaving for the south. They were halted at a joint Irish Army-Garda checkpoint, set up to catch Senator Fox's murderers and the mission was aborted.

Undeterred, 3 Infantry Brigade HQ persisted with its kidnapping policy. On 29 March 1974, just two weeks later, another mission wag set up. And just as before, the Garda were involved. TVo Republicans, Seamus Grew and Patrick Mcloughlin were the intended victims of

this second kidnap attempt-eightyearsbefore Grew methis death at the hands of the RUC Special Unit, Echo Four Alpha, the unit John Stalker was investigatingwhenhe was discr€dited and suspended.

On this occasion, three Ircyalists from Lieburn were to be used. Their ringleader was another ex-boxer, called Jimmy O'Hara. A NCO from Portadown briefed them on the operation, and provided maps and photographs of the area around Grew's house near the town of Monaghan. He also gave them a eketch plan showing where the vic-

tims should

be dumped acrose the border. The fee, once again, was set

at €500.

Again, the operation went wrong. Despite the careful briefrngs at the Woodlands Hotel in Lisburn, and at a favourite spot for such affairs, the Craigavon Hospital car park, the kidnappert were so clumsy when it came to it, they got themselves anested. Neighbours,

72

The Provisionals sent the list out of the jail in a coded letter. It was, as a matter ofcourse, intercepted and decoded - at 3 Infantry Brigade HQ where I saw it. The list was an absurd fabrication, including a solicitor from Dungannon and a perfectly respectable SDLP politician.

But, more absurdly, and yet as it turned out, more tragically, at the head of the names of the Protestants supposedly involved in hostile activities, was the McVeigh's milkman, who came from the same part

oftown.

S/Sgt P's plan, then, had already failed miserably. But it was too late now for him to try to undo it. He had let the police release the lad, he had made sure the Army processed him, he had put him through the courts and into prison on remand. Now, to make matters worse, in January 1975, McVeigh was only given a suspended sentence, which even had there been no doubts before about his authenticity would now ensure that the Provisionals were aware of a plant in their midst - for no one accused of membership and arrest€d on such a charge had been released in this way. More frightened and confused than ever, Columba McVeigh fled south to Dublinwith hisbrother, knowingthat, in effect, he had openly been branded an informer, despite the fact that he had had nothing to inform anybody of, and had all along been set up

by S/Sgt P. The lad disappeared without trace.

One can only assume that the release, which Father Dennis Faul has called 'tantamount to a death sentence' led to his subsequent execution by the IRA. But McVeigh's is not the only life ruined or lost by S/Sgt P's actions. On the 11th February 1975 a murder was carried out in Pomeroy, a village just outside Dungannon. The intended target was the milkman on McVeigh's list of names. However, the man concerned was not on his usual round that day. Another Protestant - Christopher Mein, twenty nine years old, and only recently married - had taken it on, on that particular morning, as relief roundsman. The hovisionals killed him, thinking he was a member of the UVF. In fact, he had no political connections at all. An innocent man had been murdered.

The whole incident appalled me, as it did the local police - for if my

relations to the RUC hadbeenfrostywhenl firstarrived inPortadwon, as far as the RUC in Dungannon were concerned S/Sgit P might just have well not existed after Mein was shot. In fact, it was not long before he was posted: the police began their own investigation into what had happened. However, no charges were ever laid at P's feet seryes

intheArmy.

-

he still

In fairness to S/Sgt P, the plans he had executed were conceived in headquarters 3 Brigade's Intelligence Offrce and he was merely a tool of the staffofficers there who had no experience of the situation on the ground. So that his career would not suffer, 3 Brigade created a post of FINCO in their own headquarbers and it was to there that the S/Sgt was posted after the debacle. He is currently serving in the Intelligence Corps as a commissionedoffrcer.

It was S/Sgt P back in March 1974 who also gave me my first insight into some of the crtss-border operations which, far from being simple excursions in search of Intelligence, involved both attempted kidnapping, and straightfonn'ard political assassination.

TWo loyalists

-

ex-boxers

-

wene being hired by the Army to cross

the border, to kidnap a wanted man living in County Monaghan:

Eamonn McGurgan, a known Republican. Some days later, I came into Brigade HQ to frnd everyone running around like scalded cats, trying to get 9500 of unattributable funds sent from Lisburn because the money to pay the boxere had failed to arrive. Eventually, the funds came through. And the kidnap attempt was echeduled to go ahead, just as Tony

Phadtoldme.

In order for this to happen, the area around McGurgan's house had to be frozen, in other words, someone from the other side of the border had to ensure that there would be no police presence for as long as the operation went on, in that part of County Monaghan. This had been duly arranged, with a contact in t,Le Garda. The boxere would go over, knock McGurgan unconscious, tie him up with a sack over his head and dump him at a specific spot back across the border. A squad of soldiers on patrol would then conveniently find him and he would be arrested.

Like the planwith ColumbaMcVeigh, this one too wentbadly awry.

On the particular night in question, a member of Seanad Eireann, Senator Billy Fox, was shot near Castleblayney. The Garda contact could no longer guarantee that the area would be 'Frozen'. But the message came through too late to stop the Ioyalists leaving for the south. They were halted at a joint Irish Army-Garda checkpoint, set up to catch Senator Fox's murderers and the mission was aborted.

Undeterred, 3 Infantry Brigade HQ persisted with its kidnapping policy. On 29 March 1974, just two weeks later, another mission wag set up. And just as before, the Garda were involved. TVo Republicans, Seamus Grew and Patrick Mcloughlin were the intended victims of

this second kidnap attempt-eightyearsbefore Grew methis death at the hands of the RUC Special Unit, Echo Four Alpha, the unit John Stalker was investigatingwhenhe was discr€dited and suspended.

On this occasion, three Ircyalists from Lieburn were to be used. Their ringleader was another ex-boxer, called Jimmy O'Hara. A NCO from Portadown briefed them on the operation, and provided maps and photographs of the area around Grew's house near the town of Monaghan. He also gave them a eketch plan showing where the vic-

tims should

be dumped acrose the border. The fee, once again, was set

at €500.

Again, the operation went wrong. Despite the careful briefrngs at the Woodlands Hotel in Lisburn, and at a favourite spot for such affairs, the Craigavon Hospital car park, the kidnappert were so clumsy when it came to it, they got themselves anested. Neighbours,

75

74

near Grew's house, saw them actingsuspiciously andcalledthe Garda.

TVo of them were taken at once to the local police station. O'Hara, positive that the police knew all about the kidnap and had simply made a mistake, then walked in as bold as brass to demand the release of his colleagues. He too was arrested. And he learned the hard way that nothing in the Intelligence world is as it seems, and just because one's contact had been able to clear their entry to the area, it didn't mean that he could do anything to prevent their apprehension if they were stupid enough to get caught. O'Hara, however, was not prepared to take this lying down. And in subsequent interviewe he did not hesitate to refer to the British Army as having set up the wholejob, and though he refusedto name him, he repeatedlytalkedofanEnglishman who had briefed him, and whom he had regularly met in Lisburn. In fact, even if he had named him, it wouldn't have helped, since the NCO had always used a pseudonym in his dealings with the kidnappers.

As it turned out, the gang were jailed for five years each at the Dublin Special Criminal Court in June that year. Ttrey all appealed,

and had their sentences increaeed to seven years. The severity ofthe sentences showed some degree of concern on the part of the Irish authorities - but it didn't stretch to any investigation of the Garda's role at the time. And since, two years later, another Republican, Sean McKenna was aMucted successfully across the borderfromthe village

of Dentubber, near Dundalk, it was clear that although the trial

temporarily halted this kind of activity, it still went on.

I know for a fact that these kidnaps were originally plotted from Brigade HQ, Lurgan andthatCaptain D wascentral to theirplanning.

That neither of these kidnaps succeeded is not the central iesue. What is important is the fact that while the politicians of both countries were telling their electorates one thing about their security forces' activities, they were colluding in the encouragement of those eame security forces to break their own domestic laws and those of another country.

The involvement of the Army with Protestant terorists has been denied olfrcially on many occasions. And one of the drief lines of support for these denials lies in the fact that so few hotestants have come forward, like Jimmy O'Hara, and been prepdred to point the finger. However, I have spoken to several others, who quite understandably fear publicity and the wrath of authority, who allowed themselves to be persuaded it was their duty to 'help' the security forces, and who committed crimes of which they are now deeply ashamed.

It is not my place to break their confrdence and put them unnecessarily at risk. However, there are a number of operations which have already come under public scrutiny and which, therefore, I feel free to shed further light on. A number ofthese operations centred round an SAS troop based at Castledillon- andparticularly CaptainNairac, his O.C. and his Sgt. Major.

The stories about Robert Nairac's behaviour are legion

-

and his

temerity in wandering into a pub in Crossmaglen to mingle with the locals on the night of his death in L977 is now something of a legend.

But what, exactly, Robert was doing in Ireland has never been adequately explored. Those with whom I have had contact were in no doubt that it was the same man who was invblved in briefing them on

operations they were to carry out against Republican targets. Ifthis is true, Robert was at the heart of the'dirty tricks'campaign. He would come into my offrce at Mahon Road quite often, to try to glean what Intelligence he could from me. The SAS troop were later to work directly with the Special Branch - but at this time, he knew it was

I could tell him things he might not hear elsewhere.

Besides, we knew he was keen to take over my MIO's role in the area when my tour was finished - and I in turn was not uninterested in the idea of gleaning from him what the requirements for joining the SAS were. So we wene often in conversation. quite likely

My personal memory of how quick he might be to shoot at an unidentified target fortunately turned out to be one ofthose incidents where there was an element of force, and no life was lost. This is in stark contrast to the other vivid recollection I have of him, where if I was to believe what he told me, quite the opposite had occured.

On the frrst occasion, I was trying to find someone to drive a car to the edge of a very sensitive Republican area, and stay with it while I went

in with Bunny Dearsldy and Sgt. I to check on an arrns cache. I was speaking to Robert in my office, and he told me that his troop had just been sent some very good new radios, and he was looking for an opportunity to try them out. He suggested that he, along with B and

Sergeant Mqior H drive us where he wanted to go, and keep in touch with us with these new transceivers. I agreed and so the operation went ahead. I was duly wired up with my own set: an intricate little system with a tinyearphone, and aerial which ran down one armtaped to the wrist, a highly sensitive throat mike and a small box taped across the chest. Another wire ran down the other arm to a Pressel switch, which was taped, loose to the palm, like a bell button which one used when one wanted to transmit. One only had to whisper, so we were informed and the radio would operate for up to a mile.

There was no visible sign of the apparatus and no squelch; it was designed to function in exactly the kind ofsituation we were going into.

Bunny, Sgt. I and I left the car in a small lane behind a wall, and set off towards a small compact estate, about a quarter of a mile away. We crept along a hedgerow and made a dogleg back to the spot we wanted to check. We did what we had to, without any trouble. And then we took a separate, pre-planned route back to the car.

But we had been there longer than we had meant to be, and Nairac had got worried. He had left the car with their Sergeant Mqjor, and come to the wall, to peer across the field, to see if they could spot us, since neither ofus had used the radio thus far. I could see them peering

==

= = = =

::a=

75

74

near Grew's house, saw them actingsuspiciously andcalledthe Garda.

TVo of them were taken at once to the local police station. O'Hara, positive that the police knew all about the kidnap and had simply made a mistake, then walked in as bold as brass to demand the release of his colleagues. He too was arrested. And he learned the hard way that nothing in the Intelligence world is as it seems, and just because one's contact had been able to clear their entry to the area, it didn't mean that he could do anything to prevent their apprehension if they were stupid enough to get caught. O'Hara, however, was not prepared to take this lying down. And in subsequent interviewe he did not hesitate to refer to the British Army as having set up the wholejob, and though he refusedto name him, he repeatedlytalkedofanEnglishman who had briefed him, and whom he had regularly met in Lisburn. In fact, even if he had named him, it wouldn't have helped, since the NCO had always used a pseudonym in his dealings with the kidnappers.

As it turned out, the gang were jailed for five years each at the Dublin Special Criminal Court in June that year. Ttrey all appealed,

and had their sentences increaeed to seven years. The severity ofthe sentences showed some degree of concern on the part of the Irish authorities - but it didn't stretch to any investigation of the Garda's role at the time. And since, two years later, another Republican, Sean McKenna was aMucted successfully across the borderfromthe village

of Dentubber, near Dundalk, it was clear that although the trial

temporarily halted this kind of activity, it still went on.

I know for a fact that these kidnaps were originally plotted from Brigade HQ, Lurgan andthatCaptain D wascentral to theirplanning.

That neither of these kidnaps succeeded is not the central iesue. What is important is the fact that while the politicians of both countries were telling their electorates one thing about their security forces' activities, they were colluding in the encouragement of those eame security forces to break their own domestic laws and those of another country.

The involvement of the Army with Protestant terorists has been denied olfrcially on many occasions. And one of the drief lines of support for these denials lies in the fact that so few hotestants have come forward, like Jimmy O'Hara, and been prepdred to point the finger. However, I have spoken to several others, who quite understandably fear publicity and the wrath of authority, who allowed themselves to be persuaded it was their duty to 'help' the security forces, and who committed crimes of which they are now deeply ashamed.

It is not my place to break their confrdence and put them unnecessarily at risk. However, there are a number of operations which have already come under public scrutiny and which, therefore, I feel free to shed further light on. A number ofthese operations centred round an SAS troop based at Castledillon- andparticularly CaptainNairac, his O.C. and his Sgt. Major.

The stories about Robert Nairac's behaviour are legion

-

and his

temerity in wandering into a pub in Crossmaglen to mingle with the locals on the night of his death in L977 is now something of a legend.

But what, exactly, Robert was doing in Ireland has never been adequately explored. Those with whom I have had contact were in no doubt that it was the same man who was invblved in briefing them on

operations they were to carry out against Republican targets. Ifthis is true, Robert was at the heart of the'dirty tricks'campaign. He would come into my offrce at Mahon Road quite often, to try to glean what Intelligence he could from me. The SAS troop were later to work directly with the Special Branch - but at this time, he knew it was

I could tell him things he might not hear elsewhere.

Besides, we knew he was keen to take over my MIO's role in the area when my tour was finished - and I in turn was not uninterested in the idea of gleaning from him what the requirements for joining the SAS were. So we wene often in conversation. quite likely

My personal memory of how quick he might be to shoot at an unidentified target fortunately turned out to be one ofthose incidents where there was an element of force, and no life was lost. This is in stark contrast to the other vivid recollection I have of him, where if I was to believe what he told me, quite the opposite had occured.

On the frrst occasion, I was trying to find someone to drive a car to the edge of a very sensitive Republican area, and stay with it while I went

in with Bunny Dearsldy and Sgt. I to check on an arrns cache. I was speaking to Robert in my office, and he told me that his troop had just been sent some very good new radios, and he was looking for an opportunity to try them out. He suggested that he, along with B and

Sergeant Mqior H drive us where he wanted to go, and keep in touch with us with these new transceivers. I agreed and so the operation went ahead. I was duly wired up with my own set: an intricate little system with a tinyearphone, and aerial which ran down one armtaped to the wrist, a highly sensitive throat mike and a small box taped across the chest. Another wire ran down the other arm to a Pressel switch, which was taped, loose to the palm, like a bell button which one used when one wanted to transmit. One only had to whisper, so we were informed and the radio would operate for up to a mile.

There was no visible sign of the apparatus and no squelch; it was designed to function in exactly the kind ofsituation we were going into.

Bunny, Sgt. I and I left the car in a small lane behind a wall, and set off towards a small compact estate, about a quarter of a mile away. We crept along a hedgerow and made a dogleg back to the spot we wanted to check. We did what we had to, without any trouble. And then we took a separate, pre-planned route back to the car.

But we had been there longer than we had meant to be, and Nairac had got worried. He had left the car with their Sergeant Mqjor, and come to the wall, to peer across the field, to see if they could spot us, since neither ofus had used the radio thus far. I could see them peering

==

= = = =

::a=

76

over the wall as I made my way quietly along the hedgerow, with Bunny and Sgt. I some way behind me. [t was clearly time to test out

their new piece of equipment.

I turned on the radic, using the switch in my palm. The frrst thing I heard was Nairac's voice -'Watch out! Tony - over there! Can't be them. Must be the bloody IRA. Get a bead on them, quick!'I whispered into the mike -'It's alright Robert, it's Fred. We're coming out.'

There was no answer, Instead I heard Nairac's voice once more, through the tiny earphone. 'Right. Ihere's more than one, you oover the hedge.' Once more I pressed the switch and tried to transmit. 'It's alright, Robert, it's us. We're just coming out.'

And still there was no response. I stepped out from the hedgemw almost certain I was going to be fired at, but still not daring to shout or draw attention to myself, in such a sensitive area. As I desperately tried to line the aerial up, since I thought that this must be the problem, again Iheard Nairac's voice in my ear-'LooklThere's one out in the field! What the hell's he playing at - bloody windmills?' For I was standing there now, with arms outstretched, franticaly trying to line up the aerial on arm and all the while whispering into the highly sensitive mike'Robert! Robert! It's Fred!'

It was only when I actually heard Nairac and B agree to shoot me that I gave up on the radio and shouted across the field -'For Christ's sake, don't shoot, don't bloody shoot!'And, immediately they realised what had happened. By then, Bunny had caught up with me, and I explained to him how I had tried to use the radio andhow ithad nearly cost me my life. We both ripped the wires offin disgust, and rejoined the others -knowingthat notonly could we have become easy targets for anyone on the estate, but that we could quite easily have died at the hands ofour own people.

But we survived. John Francis Green was not so lucky. In January 1975, Robert Nairac came into my office. The conversation hrrned to a particular killing that had taken place, across the border, in County Monaghan. On loth January John Franics Green, the Provisional IRA commander in North Armagh, had been repeatedly shot at an isolat€d farmhouse belonging to an IRA sympathiser named Gerry Carville.

1he killing had been carefully planned, and whatever Intelligence souroe was used had been highly reliable, as Green had only visited the

farm at short notice. The initial suspicion was that he had died as a result of some ihternal feud - though this seemed unlikely, since Green was a local hero after his escape from the Maze in 1973. The RUC later put out the theory that he had been killed by a Protestant from the north called Elliot, a deranged man with no political motive, but who believed his brother had been killed at Carville's farm, and had come to shoot the old farmer instead. Yet they were later to admit that one of the IRA men in Eire who worked as an informer for them, and who had been the last person to see Green before he left for the farm, had been

77

hunriedly 'relocated' once he had fled his home shortly after the

murder.

I can only relate that Robert Nairac said quite plainly that he had been involved in the killing. He then produced a photograph of the dead man, lying in his own blood - a colour Polarcid, showing Green'e

corpse, with a black uncurtained window in the background. I took the photograph from him and asked ifl could keep it. I was a keen collector of all such memorabilia, so that I could maintain the fullest possible

record of what happened in Ireland during my tour. Nairac seemed

none too happy with thie. But he did not ask for it back. I put it in my drawer and asked him to go on with his story.

He told me that he had killed Green, together with two other men, who I assumedwere S/SgtB and theSergeantMajor, astheyworkedas a team. They had crossed the border without interference, and driven

down the country road to Gerry Carville's farm. They knew Carville would leave at a specific time. This he did. One man stayed with the car while the other made their way stealthily to the house. They could see Green through the window. They waited for their moment, kicked in the door, and then emptied their guns into his body. I had no reaeon to disbelieve what Nairac told me, any more than the Protestant terrorists who have since admitted they met him, and liaised with him over such activities. What made me certain that he knew what he was talking about was that when the evidence emerged from the Garda inquiry it tallied closely with Nairac's account. Witness€s did indeed report seeing an unknown car in the area that night, a white Audi or Mercedes, with three men in it. Carville stat€d that he always left his farm at that particular time of day to tend to a neighbour's cow. The window was uncurtained, the door had been kicked in, and forensic experts were able to say that two guns were used in the murder probably a Luger, and a Star automatic pistol.

There have been many twists and turne to this particular story. It has been said that Captain Nairac invented his participation in the murder. It has also been suggested that the Polaroid picture was not as I describe it, and that the only picture of Green's corpse in exist€nce shows that the blood from his wounds had congealed, and that there was no dark window in the background. Finally, it has been claimed that the rveaporut used were, in fact, not those at frrst identifred as handguns, and the link that I have traced through one ofthose weapons to Captain Nairac is therefore false.

Those people in the Army who have sought to protect Nairac's reputation, through the odd means of implying that he tried to take credit for operations in which he wag not involved, would frrgt have to disprove the allegatione made by the four Protestant extremists with whom I have had contact. As to the Polariod picture, whose exist€nce has been doubted - I can only say that I saw it, and gave it to the RUC as evidence, on the understanding that it would be returned, when I

I

76

over the wall as I made my way quietly along the hedgerow, with Bunny and Sgt. I some way behind me. [t was clearly time to test out

their new piece of equipment.

I turned on the radic, using the switch in my palm. The frrst thing I heard was Nairac's voice -'Watch out! Tony - over there! Can't be them. Must be the bloody IRA. Get a bead on them, quick!'I whispered into the mike -'It's alright Robert, it's Fred. We're coming out.'

There was no answer, Instead I heard Nairac's voice once more, through the tiny earphone. 'Right. Ihere's more than one, you oover the hedge.' Once more I pressed the switch and tried to transmit. 'It's alright, Robert, it's us. We're just coming out.'

And still there was no response. I stepped out from the hedgemw almost certain I was going to be fired at, but still not daring to shout or draw attention to myself, in such a sensitive area. As I desperately tried to line the aerial up, since I thought that this must be the problem, again Iheard Nairac's voice in my ear-'LooklThere's one out in the field! What the hell's he playing at - bloody windmills?' For I was standing there now, with arms outstretched, franticaly trying to line up the aerial on arm and all the while whispering into the highly sensitive mike'Robert! Robert! It's Fred!'

It was only when I actually heard Nairac and B agree to shoot me that I gave up on the radio and shouted across the field -'For Christ's sake, don't shoot, don't bloody shoot!'And, immediately they realised what had happened. By then, Bunny had caught up with me, and I explained to him how I had tried to use the radio andhow ithad nearly cost me my life. We both ripped the wires offin disgust, and rejoined the others -knowingthat notonly could we have become easy targets for anyone on the estate, but that we could quite easily have died at the hands ofour own people.

But we survived. John Francis Green was not so lucky. In January 1975, Robert Nairac came into my office. The conversation hrrned to a particular killing that had taken place, across the border, in County Monaghan. On loth January John Franics Green, the Provisional IRA commander in North Armagh, had been repeatedly shot at an isolat€d farmhouse belonging to an IRA sympathiser named Gerry Carville.

1he killing had been carefully planned, and whatever Intelligence souroe was used had been highly reliable, as Green had only visited the

farm at short notice. The initial suspicion was that he had died as a result of some ihternal feud - though this seemed unlikely, since Green was a local hero after his escape from the Maze in 1973. The RUC later put out the theory that he had been killed by a Protestant from the north called Elliot, a deranged man with no political motive, but who believed his brother had been killed at Carville's farm, and had come to shoot the old farmer instead. Yet they were later to admit that one of the IRA men in Eire who worked as an informer for them, and who had been the last person to see Green before he left for the farm, had been

77

hunriedly 'relocated' once he had fled his home shortly after the

murder.

I can only relate that Robert Nairac said quite plainly that he had been involved in the killing. He then produced a photograph of the dead man, lying in his own blood - a colour Polarcid, showing Green'e

corpse, with a black uncurtained window in the background. I took the photograph from him and asked ifl could keep it. I was a keen collector of all such memorabilia, so that I could maintain the fullest possible

record of what happened in Ireland during my tour. Nairac seemed

none too happy with thie. But he did not ask for it back. I put it in my drawer and asked him to go on with his story.

He told me that he had killed Green, together with two other men, who I assumedwere S/SgtB and theSergeantMajor, astheyworkedas a team. They had crossed the border without interference, and driven

down the country road to Gerry Carville's farm. They knew Carville would leave at a specific time. This he did. One man stayed with the car while the other made their way stealthily to the house. They could see Green through the window. They waited for their moment, kicked in the door, and then emptied their guns into his body. I had no reaeon to disbelieve what Nairac told me, any more than the Protestant terrorists who have since admitted they met him, and liaised with him over such activities. What made me certain that he knew what he was talking about was that when the evidence emerged from the Garda inquiry it tallied closely with Nairac's account. Witness€s did indeed report seeing an unknown car in the area that night, a white Audi or Mercedes, with three men in it. Carville stat€d that he always left his farm at that particular time of day to tend to a neighbour's cow. The window was uncurtained, the door had been kicked in, and forensic experts were able to say that two guns were used in the murder probably a Luger, and a Star automatic pistol.

There have been many twists and turne to this particular story. It has been said that Captain Nairac invented his participation in the murder. It has also been suggested that the Polaroid picture was not as I describe it, and that the only picture of Green's corpse in exist€nce shows that the blood from his wounds had congealed, and that there was no dark window in the background. Finally, it has been claimed that the rveaporut used were, in fact, not those at frrst identifred as handguns, and the link that I have traced through one ofthose weapons to Captain Nairac is therefore false.

Those people in the Army who have sought to protect Nairac's reputation, through the odd means of implying that he tried to take credit for operations in which he wag not involved, would frrgt have to disprove the allegatione made by the four Protestant extremists with whom I have had contact. As to the Polariod picture, whose exist€nce has been doubted - I can only say that I saw it, and gave it to the RUC as evidence, on the understanding that it would be returned, when I

I

79 78

was cooperating with them on their inquiry into my allegations, in 1982. It has never been returned to me, despite many l€quests. The RUC Chief Constablehasrepeatedlyclaimed it isnot intheinterests of National Security to do so (which is remarkable when one considers that a photo alleged to be mine wag offered to journalists by a senior RUC officer in charge ofthe inquiry into my allegations in 1987, with a smear story attached). Whenever the matter has been raised on other occasions, a different picture has been produced, in which the pool of blood under Green is indeed congealed, and there is no dark window to prove the shot was taken at night. This picture is not the one I gave to lne nUC. Nor can mine be explained away as one of the Garda's'scene

of crime' photos. The Irish police travelled up from Dublin the next morning, and used standard black and white film' Both they, .ttd th"RUC, k-ept well clear of the farmhouse during lhe night, for fear of booby traps. So whoever took the photograph given to me by Captain Nairac had to have been at the farmhouse shortly after the killing.

Robert told me the picture was his and I still believe that' As far as the weapons are concerned, I am no forensic expert. But I do know that during 1975 the RUC were given evidence that linked the murder of John Francis Green conclusively to a number of killings in that period, carried out by Protestant extremists associated with the IIVF. trtris evidence concerned the Star automatic pistol which was found at the Carville farmhouse. With the Garda's cooperation a scientist attached to the forensic staffat the RUC called Norman T examined the cartridges left at the ecene of four such murders, committed between 19?3 and 1976. And in each case they were identical to those left at the scene ofthe Green assaesination.

The most horrific of these outrages became known as the Miami Showband killings. And the evidence suggests that Captain Nairac was involved in this episode also. In July 1975, a gang of UVF volunteers set up a checkpoint in South Down, dressed as UDR soldiers.

The Showband's van was stopped. Two of the UVF men then tried to set up a bomb in the back of the vehicle, and killed themselves, when the device exploded prematurely. The others in the gang then opened frre on the Catholic musicians, and killed three of them: The frrst I knew personally of the atrocity was when my kit was returned to me in England after I had been removed from the province.

In among my stulf was a letter from Captain V of the Royal Engineers, who took over my work temporarily. He told me that there had been some 'good news'. At the scene of a sectarian murder a severed arm had been discovered, with the Red Hand of Ulster tattooed upon it - it belonged to a well known UVF man called Hanis Boyle, and'everyone was delighted'that he had blown himself up. He never mentioned the Miami Showband incident by name, but I later discovered, this was what he was refening to. I also stumbled over fresh evidence, which made me suspect that there was a lot more to the murders than the authorities wanted people to believe.

First of all, the same Star automatic pistol turned up again - and the kiiling was therefore indissolubly linked with that of John Francis Green. But there were also rifles involved on this occasion. And these were traced back to an arms theft from the UDR centre in Portadown, in 1973. I knew a lot about those rifles. I was informed by one of my sources in 1975 that there was a sizeable weapons cache hidden under the courtyard ofa farm outside Portadown. After failing to get assistance from the RUC, and after the SAS had aborted a clandestine reconnaissance mission, I asked for an RAF plane equipped with a special reconnaissance system to fly over the area, and take a three mile long linear photo - so that if the weapons were, indeed, hidden on the farm, I would be able to find exactly where. This system had been used on several occasions in Ulster very successfully.

The aeroplane's scan on this occasion pinpointed very accurately where the arms were hidden: on the property of a wealthy hotestant. I went immediately to consult with Sergeant R. I was asked to leave the matter with him, because of the political implications and I was quite happy to do so. There were some sixty rifles, and a number of sub machine guns, and it was presumed they were being hidden until the day when the province finally plunged into civil war, whenthey would be brought into use by the new Protestant army. The Special Branch were monitoring the situation, and would take action at the approp-

riate time.

Whatever the reasons given, the weapons were never moved from the farm outside Portadownby anofficial body. Butsomeofthose rifles were used at the scene of the Miami killings, and it is barely conceivable that they could have left the cache without the RUC being aware of it. And given Nairac'g close and confrdential operational association with Portadown Special Branch prior to my removal from the province a link seems probable.

There are other suspicious aspects ofthe case. The bomb used was collected from a farmhouse near Glenane - a house which British Army Intelligence men were known to frequent, and on occasions move explosives through. All this suggests that the Special Branch and the SAS worked closely with the Protestant terorrists at this time. Furthermore, I have evidence in my possession about the deaths ofvarious persons who were'involved in undercover work, under suspicious circumstances, suggesting implication by the Security Forces. The carnage of the Miami Showband killings shocked the British public but if they had thought their own soldiers were involved, I wonder how they would have reacted? For my own part, I believe quite firmly that cormption was rife in the RIJC years before John Stalker came up against it, and his investigation merely scraped the surface, before he was deliberately and methodically smeared, and suspended from duty.

The Frotestant terrorist I have referred to frequently inthe course of these events is a man by the name of Jackson. He *as at the heart of

79 78

was cooperating with them on their inquiry into my allegations, in 1982. It has never been returned to me, despite many l€quests. The RUC Chief Constablehasrepeatedlyclaimed it isnot intheinterests of National Security to do so (which is remarkable when one considers that a photo alleged to be mine wag offered to journalists by a senior RUC officer in charge ofthe inquiry into my allegations in 1987, with a smear story attached). Whenever the matter has been raised on other occasions, a different picture has been produced, in which the pool of blood under Green is indeed congealed, and there is no dark window to prove the shot was taken at night. This picture is not the one I gave to lne nUC. Nor can mine be explained away as one of the Garda's'scene

of crime' photos. The Irish police travelled up from Dublin the next morning, and used standard black and white film' Both they, .ttd th"RUC, k-ept well clear of the farmhouse during lhe night, for fear of booby traps. So whoever took the photograph given to me by Captain Nairac had to have been at the farmhouse shortly after the killing.

Robert told me the picture was his and I still believe that' As far as the weapons are concerned, I am no forensic expert. But I do know that during 1975 the RUC were given evidence that linked the murder of John Francis Green conclusively to a number of killings in that period, carried out by Protestant extremists associated with the IIVF. trtris evidence concerned the Star automatic pistol which was found at the Carville farmhouse. With the Garda's cooperation a scientist attached to the forensic staffat the RUC called Norman T examined the cartridges left at the ecene of four such murders, committed between 19?3 and 1976. And in each case they were identical to those left at the scene ofthe Green assaesination.

The most horrific of these outrages became known as the Miami Showband killings. And the evidence suggests that Captain Nairac was involved in this episode also. In July 1975, a gang of UVF volunteers set up a checkpoint in South Down, dressed as UDR soldiers.

The Showband's van was stopped. Two of the UVF men then tried to set up a bomb in the back of the vehicle, and killed themselves, when the device exploded prematurely. The others in the gang then opened frre on the Catholic musicians, and killed three of them: The frrst I knew personally of the atrocity was when my kit was returned to me in England after I had been removed from the province.

In among my stulf was a letter from Captain V of the Royal Engineers, who took over my work temporarily. He told me that there had been some 'good news'. At the scene of a sectarian murder a severed arm had been discovered, with the Red Hand of Ulster tattooed upon it - it belonged to a well known UVF man called Hanis Boyle, and'everyone was delighted'that he had blown himself up. He never mentioned the Miami Showband incident by name, but I later discovered, this was what he was refening to. I also stumbled over fresh evidence, which made me suspect that there was a lot more to the murders than the authorities wanted people to believe.

First of all, the same Star automatic pistol turned up again - and the kiiling was therefore indissolubly linked with that of John Francis Green. But there were also rifles involved on this occasion. And these were traced back to an arms theft from the UDR centre in Portadown, in 1973. I knew a lot about those rifles. I was informed by one of my sources in 1975 that there was a sizeable weapons cache hidden under the courtyard ofa farm outside Portadown. After failing to get assistance from the RUC, and after the SAS had aborted a clandestine reconnaissance mission, I asked for an RAF plane equipped with a special reconnaissance system to fly over the area, and take a three mile long linear photo - so that if the weapons were, indeed, hidden on the farm, I would be able to find exactly where. This system had been used on several occasions in Ulster very successfully.

The aeroplane's scan on this occasion pinpointed very accurately where the arms were hidden: on the property of a wealthy hotestant. I went immediately to consult with Sergeant R. I was asked to leave the matter with him, because of the political implications and I was quite happy to do so. There were some sixty rifles, and a number of sub machine guns, and it was presumed they were being hidden until the day when the province finally plunged into civil war, whenthey would be brought into use by the new Protestant army. The Special Branch were monitoring the situation, and would take action at the approp-

riate time.

Whatever the reasons given, the weapons were never moved from the farm outside Portadownby anofficial body. Butsomeofthose rifles were used at the scene of the Miami killings, and it is barely conceivable that they could have left the cache without the RUC being aware of it. And given Nairac'g close and confrdential operational association with Portadown Special Branch prior to my removal from the province a link seems probable.

There are other suspicious aspects ofthe case. The bomb used was collected from a farmhouse near Glenane - a house which British Army Intelligence men were known to frequent, and on occasions move explosives through. All this suggests that the Special Branch and the SAS worked closely with the Protestant terorrists at this time. Furthermore, I have evidence in my possession about the deaths ofvarious persons who were'involved in undercover work, under suspicious circumstances, suggesting implication by the Security Forces. The carnage of the Miami Showband killings shocked the British public but if they had thought their own soldiers were involved, I wonder how they would have reacted? For my own part, I believe quite firmly that cormption was rife in the RIJC years before John Stalker came up against it, and his investigation merely scraped the surface, before he was deliberately and methodically smeared, and suspended from duty.

The Frotestant terrorist I have referred to frequently inthe course of these events is a man by the name of Jackson. He *as at the heart of

81

80

area, along with three brothers from another UVF activity in my -and a close friend of theirs, 'Aberdeen' Knox Protestant family, personal source within the terrorist grolP' I gan R's Sergeanl -Young, give a detailed example here of a deliberate case of miscarried justice, ior which the Portadown special Branch must tie required to give an adequate answer.

On a Saturday afteraoon in 1974 I was sitting in a Q car on observation worli, with Detective Constable A of the Special Branch.

As usual, the rain was persistent, but on this oocasion the weather was no mere Lackdrop to what happened, but an integral part of the-caee'

We were specifrcally looking out for a young man called Wilfie Cummings. ttiifather trad contacted Sergeant R to tell him that Cummings hadTallen in with tenoriets, and that if we could frnd any good reason to pick himup, thenwe shoulddo so' Wehadtracedthe ladtoahouse in Ed-garstown - tE Margaret Street l and hqd made frequent patrols thr6ugh the area. I had also searched the houseg a{acent a1d- had foundln old 38 revolver in one of them which I had pulledout with my grappling hook and handed in to Special Branch. On these earlier co"iit pat"ols I had noticed a beige Morris Oxford Pa+{ oulsi$e numbei 18 which did not belong in the area. Since I had aleo heard of a bomb - ready to be used - hidden in Edgarstown, I was fairly certain something was going to happen. When a blue Maxi drove paet carrying a number-of UVF men, includiRg Stuart and'Aberdeen'Knox-Young, my certainty increased.

We followed the car to The Golden Hind, the meeting place of the Protestant extremists. I then arranged for the Army to drive a Humber Amoured 1 ton vehicle, known as a'Pigi', down to The Golden Hind, park it nearty and photograph all the people coming oui q-t tfe e-nd of ihe lunchtime drinking session. By half-paet three I had all the photographs in my possession and ran a check on them, telgxryS !o Belfast ind going tlir6ugh the Special Branch frles. We soon had a list of the menln the car and the others they had been with at the pub. Some were suspected bombers from Belfast. I was convinced the good old Chalet bar would be the target that evening.

I stayed up late that Saturday night at Mahon Road Camp - but nothing happened, so I went home to bed. It wasn't until I arrived at the police Jtatioir the next morning that I realized it wasn't a bombing we ihould have expected. A sectarian murder had taken place, involving the same car, the same men, and the house in Margaret Street. And we had missed it.

Gerald Creaney and Patrick Duffr were two Catholic lads from

Portadown who had been out to a dance in Lurgan. On their way home along the main road they had accepted a lift from two men' They assumey' the two men were Republicans as they had talked ab-out an acquaihtance of theirs who had earlier go! into a frst-frght with-some hotestants and how it would be a good idea to try and waylay a

'Pmddie'that night and beat him up to get revenge. The lads agreed

and the two men drove into Edgarstown andparked at adark spot near the Golden Hind. Immediately the two Catholics were jumped on and given a beating. Creaney managed to get away and alert both his and

Duft's family, but Duftwas not so lucky.

When Duffu's parents brought their son's friend to the police station, the police were very sceptical abouthis storyandreactedwith adegree of sectarian bias. Eventually they agreed to take Creaney back to Edgarstown. They found the blue Maxi he described - but not where he aescriH it. It was parked outside 18 Margaret Street. It had been pouring with rain all that day but the car was not only sitting on bricks, with the wheels off and the battery removed, there was a completely dry patch of ground beneath it, indicating to them that it had not been moved. They concluded that Creaney was a liar, drove back to the station, and sent him home.

As soon as I noted the registration number in the duty book on the Sunday moraing, I told the Duty Inspector that this was the car I had seen drive into Portadownthe previous lunchtime carryingthe Young brothers and some known heavy characters from Belfast. I phoned Sergeant R and a CID Inspector M to tell them what had happened.

Then I drove down to Margaret Street. The flrrst thing that struck me was that the Blue Maxi was parked on the identical spot to the one where, on every day for the previous week, I had seen the MoIris

Oxford.

I

immediately went looking for the other car and found

it

pushed onto a derelict site nearby. It became apparent to me that one iar had simply been moved and t,Le other put in its place, so that whoever had done it could claim the Maxi had been there all the time.

Creaney's story was then taken seriously. 18 Margaret Street was raided. A search was mounted for the lad Dufr, and he was almost immediately found dead in a freld outside the town. I got hold of the photogaphl taken the day before and Bunny, Sgt. I and myself took -copies to Aldergrove Airport, Larne and Belfast docks, briefrng the police that they should be arrested if they tried to leave the country.

Witn ail the relevant information at their disposal I expected to hear, eventually, that the right people had been prosecuted. And, sure enough, in due course I heard that this had happened, and went to see Sergeant R in his oftice. There I found him with two detectives, D'C. A andD.C. B, and a third I didn't know. They told me a long and involved story ofhow, on the night inquestion, there hadbeen somekindoforgy at 18 Margaret Street in which two fifteen-year-old girls were involved. (They didn't tell me one was the daughter of an RUC man.)

Duffu had been kidnapped, dragged into the house and tied up. He had been stabbed and otherwise abused before being shot dead. When the police had been led to the blue Maxi by Creaney, they had, in fact, Lnocked at the door ofthe house. It was opened by none other than Wilfre Cummings, who told them the people in the house were having a

I

81

80

area, along with three brothers from another UVF activity in my -and a close friend of theirs, 'Aberdeen' Knox Protestant family, personal source within the terrorist grolP' I gan R's Sergeanl -Young, give a detailed example here of a deliberate case of miscarried justice, ior which the Portadown special Branch must tie required to give an adequate answer.

On a Saturday afteraoon in 1974 I was sitting in a Q car on observation worli, with Detective Constable A of the Special Branch.

As usual, the rain was persistent, but on this oocasion the weather was no mere Lackdrop to what happened, but an integral part of the-caee'

We were specifrcally looking out for a young man called Wilfie Cummings. ttiifather trad contacted Sergeant R to tell him that Cummings hadTallen in with tenoriets, and that if we could frnd any good reason to pick himup, thenwe shoulddo so' Wehadtracedthe ladtoahouse in Ed-garstown - tE Margaret Street l and hqd made frequent patrols thr6ugh the area. I had also searched the houseg a{acent a1d- had foundln old 38 revolver in one of them which I had pulledout with my grappling hook and handed in to Special Branch. On these earlier co"iit pat"ols I had noticed a beige Morris Oxford Pa+{ oulsi$e numbei 18 which did not belong in the area. Since I had aleo heard of a bomb - ready to be used - hidden in Edgarstown, I was fairly certain something was going to happen. When a blue Maxi drove paet carrying a number-of UVF men, includiRg Stuart and'Aberdeen'Knox-Young, my certainty increased.

We followed the car to The Golden Hind, the meeting place of the Protestant extremists. I then arranged for the Army to drive a Humber Amoured 1 ton vehicle, known as a'Pigi', down to The Golden Hind, park it nearty and photograph all the people coming oui q-t tfe e-nd of ihe lunchtime drinking session. By half-paet three I had all the photographs in my possession and ran a check on them, telgxryS !o Belfast ind going tlir6ugh the Special Branch frles. We soon had a list of the menln the car and the others they had been with at the pub. Some were suspected bombers from Belfast. I was convinced the good old Chalet bar would be the target that evening.

I stayed up late that Saturday night at Mahon Road Camp - but nothing happened, so I went home to bed. It wasn't until I arrived at the police Jtatioir the next morning that I realized it wasn't a bombing we ihould have expected. A sectarian murder had taken place, involving the same car, the same men, and the house in Margaret Street. And we had missed it.

Gerald Creaney and Patrick Duffr were two Catholic lads from

Portadown who had been out to a dance in Lurgan. On their way home along the main road they had accepted a lift from two men' They assumey' the two men were Republicans as they had talked ab-out an acquaihtance of theirs who had earlier go! into a frst-frght with-some hotestants and how it would be a good idea to try and waylay a

'Pmddie'that night and beat him up to get revenge. The lads agreed

and the two men drove into Edgarstown andparked at adark spot near the Golden Hind. Immediately the two Catholics were jumped on and given a beating. Creaney managed to get away and alert both his and

Duft's family, but Duftwas not so lucky.

When Duffu's parents brought their son's friend to the police station, the police were very sceptical abouthis storyandreactedwith adegree of sectarian bias. Eventually they agreed to take Creaney back to Edgarstown. They found the blue Maxi he described - but not where he aescriH it. It was parked outside 18 Margaret Street. It had been pouring with rain all that day but the car was not only sitting on bricks, with the wheels off and the battery removed, there was a completely dry patch of ground beneath it, indicating to them that it had not been moved. They concluded that Creaney was a liar, drove back to the station, and sent him home.

As soon as I noted the registration number in the duty book on the Sunday moraing, I told the Duty Inspector that this was the car I had seen drive into Portadownthe previous lunchtime carryingthe Young brothers and some known heavy characters from Belfast. I phoned Sergeant R and a CID Inspector M to tell them what had happened.

Then I drove down to Margaret Street. The flrrst thing that struck me was that the Blue Maxi was parked on the identical spot to the one where, on every day for the previous week, I had seen the MoIris

Oxford.

I

immediately went looking for the other car and found

it

pushed onto a derelict site nearby. It became apparent to me that one iar had simply been moved and t,Le other put in its place, so that whoever had done it could claim the Maxi had been there all the time.

Creaney's story was then taken seriously. 18 Margaret Street was raided. A search was mounted for the lad Dufr, and he was almost immediately found dead in a freld outside the town. I got hold of the photogaphl taken the day before and Bunny, Sgt. I and myself took -copies to Aldergrove Airport, Larne and Belfast docks, briefrng the police that they should be arrested if they tried to leave the country.

Witn ail the relevant information at their disposal I expected to hear, eventually, that the right people had been prosecuted. And, sure enough, in due course I heard that this had happened, and went to see Sergeant R in his oftice. There I found him with two detectives, D'C. A andD.C. B, and a third I didn't know. They told me a long and involved story ofhow, on the night inquestion, there hadbeen somekindoforgy at 18 Margaret Street in which two fifteen-year-old girls were involved. (They didn't tell me one was the daughter of an RUC man.)

Duffu had been kidnapped, dragged into the house and tied up. He had been stabbed and otherwise abused before being shot dead. When the police had been led to the blue Maxi by Creaney, they had, in fact, Lnocked at the door ofthe house. It was opened by none other than Wilfre Cummings, who told them the people in the house were having a

I

82

party and had neither seen nor heard anything unusual. The police had not gone in.

Sergeant R went further in describing what had happened. He depicted Duffu's killing as some kindof ritualistic murder. He gave me the names of those involved (who, it later transpired, were well known in the community to have committed the crime), and told me they would all be prosecuted. But he asked me if I would mind not turning up to give evidence at the trial, as the affair was cut and dried as far as they were concerned and they wouldn't need me. I was quite happy to go along with this. I thought that the RUC wanted to come out as the ones who had put it all together and had no reason to want to steal whatever kudos they might gain - especially since they would be seen to be prosecuting Loyalist terrorists. I put the matter out of mind.

It was with utter astonishment that I learned, some years later, that two prosecutions had beenbrought one againstWilfre Cummings, and another against a lad I had only vaguely heard of, called Clarke. This was the first I knew of anyone suggesting Cummings and Clarke had carried out the murder. Cummings had certainly been about at the time - it had happened in the house he was living in - but I knew for a fact that he was at best an accessory to the crime. Even more astonishing, however, was the conviction given to young Clarke. From his parents I learned that all he had done was to walk past the car used in the murder when it returned to Edgarstown. Those inside handed him the gun used and told him to get rid ofit - or else.

Clarke and Cummings have served fourteen years in prison for the murder of Duft in 1975. Contact has been made with them on a number ofoccasions and with their parents, to try and encourage them to prove their innocence and have the guilty parties prosecuted, but they have always declined. Quite why they should do so needs little explanation. If they were prepared to go down in the first place, to live through the pain and disorientation ofsuch sentences in orderto shield the men who carried out the crime, then they are unlikely to come forward now to clear their names and risk their safety and that of their families to do so - especially as it must have been obvious to them that there was collusion by the RUC. Neither of these men has approached me on the matter. At the time of writing this book, Wilfre Cummings had come before the parole board with a view to being released. I know that on his medical record submitted to the board, a reference was made to the fact that he might well have been innocent of Duffy's murder, and that this ghould be taken into account. This particular reference was immediately deleted by the authorities.

The most unpalatable aspect of this whole case was that the guilty men subsequently made no secret of their involvement and used to boast openly that they had got away with it. TWo ofthe Youngbrothers were also implicated in the murder. ('Aberdeen'Knox-Young saw fit

83

to e-xtend his evening's pleasures by having intercouree with one of the under-age girls present at 18 Margaret Street that evening.)

One might ask how this kind of perversion ofjustice can be allowed to lupp"g in asupposedlyjust society. It is a questions that should, perhaps, be addressed to the Chief Constable oftne nUC himself. He might be able to encourage those members ofthe force involved to come

forwa$ and e_lplain their actions. They might see things differently now. I know Wilfre Cummings does. He was prosecuted as a dire&

result of the RUC's policy ofprotecting their info-rmers, and has lost the prime of his life for their sake. gtve many examples of how the law was made a mockery in I - could the province during this time. Army Intelligence manufactured bogus press cards for undercover work which directly putjournalists' lives at risk. The Army also canied out burglaries on privle property under surveillance. I met Captain 'Chubby' L from the Ash?ord course several times in Ulstâ&#x201A;Źr. The targets ofthe raids he led included a house on the shores of Lough Neagh where it was suspected IRA arms and wanted men were concealed, and at least a doz6n Orange Lodges, in search of

Ioyalist weapons.

I have freely admitted that when I was serving in Ulster, like so many others I did not question these matters in any profound sense.

For instance, I remember an occasion when Craig-Smellie asked

Bunny-and myselftb go to the Kilwilkie estate in Lurlan to carryout a piece of sabotage. we had been inforrred by one of our reliable sources than an active IRA volunteer in the town was going to use one of the weaponshidden in-a graveyard to murder a. policeman the following SundqV. Smellie asked us to remove the top tiutlets from the ammunil tion clip and bring them to him so that he could arrange to .give the chap a bit of a surprise'. TVo days later he returned Ihem Io us to the-m.Ihey had been doctored. Instead of normal cordite, they :repJ?ce had been frlled with detonator explosive. If the IRA man had used them against his target he would have blown his own head off.

I wasn't at all certain about this, so I consulted with the Brigadier.

Purely because he resented MI6 arrangingthiskindofoperatioi inhis

area, he forbade us to replant the ammunition. I had no sympathy for his_motive, but for once I was grateful for his actions. tnsteaa of replacilg_the ammunition we interfered with the rifle,s firing mechanism. When the IRA man stepped out to shoot the policema:n there was a mere click. The Republican pulled the trigger again, and again there was no shot. He simply turned and ran, teaving lhe RUC ofircer in a state not dissimilar to old Sam in the Chalet Bar-that night. _ It might be argued that the potential murderer deserved what Mr smellie had in mind for him. But that is easy to argue in the abstract. I have- to t4*i1, to my shamc, that I was prepared ii the last analysis to 4o what I had been ordered. I don't thini it would have u""" por.ilG t" have done the work I did in Ireland with an entirely clean conscience.

82

party and had neither seen nor heard anything unusual. The police had not gone in.

Sergeant R went further in describing what had happened. He depicted Duffu's killing as some kindof ritualistic murder. He gave me the names of those involved (who, it later transpired, were well known in the community to have committed the crime), and told me they would all be prosecuted. But he asked me if I would mind not turning up to give evidence at the trial, as the affair was cut and dried as far as they were concerned and they wouldn't need me. I was quite happy to go along with this. I thought that the RUC wanted to come out as the ones who had put it all together and had no reason to want to steal whatever kudos they might gain - especially since they would be seen to be prosecuting Loyalist terrorists. I put the matter out of mind.

It was with utter astonishment that I learned, some years later, that two prosecutions had beenbrought one againstWilfre Cummings, and another against a lad I had only vaguely heard of, called Clarke. This was the first I knew of anyone suggesting Cummings and Clarke had carried out the murder. Cummings had certainly been about at the time - it had happened in the house he was living in - but I knew for a fact that he was at best an accessory to the crime. Even more astonishing, however, was the conviction given to young Clarke. From his parents I learned that all he had done was to walk past the car used in the murder when it returned to Edgarstown. Those inside handed him the gun used and told him to get rid ofit - or else.

Clarke and Cummings have served fourteen years in prison for the murder of Duft in 1975. Contact has been made with them on a number ofoccasions and with their parents, to try and encourage them to prove their innocence and have the guilty parties prosecuted, but they have always declined. Quite why they should do so needs little explanation. If they were prepared to go down in the first place, to live through the pain and disorientation ofsuch sentences in orderto shield the men who carried out the crime, then they are unlikely to come forward now to clear their names and risk their safety and that of their families to do so - especially as it must have been obvious to them that there was collusion by the RUC. Neither of these men has approached me on the matter. At the time of writing this book, Wilfre Cummings had come before the parole board with a view to being released. I know that on his medical record submitted to the board, a reference was made to the fact that he might well have been innocent of Duffy's murder, and that this ghould be taken into account. This particular reference was immediately deleted by the authorities.

The most unpalatable aspect of this whole case was that the guilty men subsequently made no secret of their involvement and used to boast openly that they had got away with it. TWo ofthe Youngbrothers were also implicated in the murder. ('Aberdeen'Knox-Young saw fit

83

to e-xtend his evening's pleasures by having intercouree with one of the under-age girls present at 18 Margaret Street that evening.)

One might ask how this kind of perversion ofjustice can be allowed to lupp"g in asupposedlyjust society. It is a questions that should, perhaps, be addressed to the Chief Constable oftne nUC himself. He might be able to encourage those members ofthe force involved to come

forwa$ and e_lplain their actions. They might see things differently now. I know Wilfre Cummings does. He was prosecuted as a dire&

result of the RUC's policy ofprotecting their info-rmers, and has lost the prime of his life for their sake. gtve many examples of how the law was made a mockery in I - could the province during this time. Army Intelligence manufactured bogus press cards for undercover work which directly putjournalists' lives at risk. The Army also canied out burglaries on privle property under surveillance. I met Captain 'Chubby' L from the Ash?ord course several times in Ulstâ&#x201A;Źr. The targets ofthe raids he led included a house on the shores of Lough Neagh where it was suspected IRA arms and wanted men were concealed, and at least a doz6n Orange Lodges, in search of

Ioyalist weapons.

I have freely admitted that when I was serving in Ulster, like so many others I did not question these matters in any profound sense.

For instance, I remember an occasion when Craig-Smellie asked

Bunny-and myselftb go to the Kilwilkie estate in Lurlan to carryout a piece of sabotage. we had been inforrred by one of our reliable sources than an active IRA volunteer in the town was going to use one of the weaponshidden in-a graveyard to murder a. policeman the following SundqV. Smellie asked us to remove the top tiutlets from the ammunil tion clip and bring them to him so that he could arrange to .give the chap a bit of a surprise'. TVo days later he returned Ihem Io us to the-m.Ihey had been doctored. Instead of normal cordite, they :repJ?ce had been frlled with detonator explosive. If the IRA man had used them against his target he would have blown his own head off.

I wasn't at all certain about this, so I consulted with the Brigadier.

Purely because he resented MI6 arrangingthiskindofoperatioi inhis

area, he forbade us to replant the ammunition. I had no sympathy for his_motive, but for once I was grateful for his actions. tnsteaa of replacilg_the ammunition we interfered with the rifle,s firing mechanism. When the IRA man stepped out to shoot the policema:n there was a mere click. The Republican pulled the trigger again, and again there was no shot. He simply turned and ran, teaving lhe RUC ofircer in a state not dissimilar to old Sam in the Chalet Bar-that night. _ It might be argued that the potential murderer deserved what Mr smellie had in mind for him. But that is easy to argue in the abstract. I have- to t4*i1, to my shamc, that I was prepared ii the last analysis to 4o what I had been ordered. I don't thini it would have u""" por.ilG t" have done the work I did in Ireland with an entirely clean conscience.

84

But at least my role as an intelligence gatherer did not involve me in any fatal or wounding operations, nor did it involve me in perverting

the course ofjustice. However, it did make me only too aware of what occurrd around me. In contrast to the precise act of sabotage Mr Smellie requested from Lisburn, anottrer act was car.ried out in October 1974 which I know resulted in another unnecessary death.

My frrst knowledge of the 'Case of the self-+xploding motor cyclist' carne when I went to Brigade HQ in Lurgan anddiscovered Captain D, Captain M the Brigade's explosive! expert, and others of the lntplligence staff sitting round guffawing like a lot of schmlboys in the tuck--shop. The big jar of white mints they kept to celebrate suocesses in the freld was being passed round. The killing of Eugene McQuaid the event being celebrated - had been well planned and intelligence sources in the south were heavily involved. An arms cache had been discovered some time previously across the border. Inetrumental in allowing an ordnance expert to cross into County Monaghan and take a look at it, the Garda had also contacted an Irish Army officer with a view to getting him involved: and he claimed that he been given leave for this approach from a higher authority in both the Eire Army and the Garda itself. But the officer reported the matter to GHQ in Dublin.

A report was then compiled concerning hig role as an undercover agent for the British - but to no apparent effect. Instead he was later able to arrange for a 'Covert Felix' team from north of the border to go across and, rather than simply inspect the cache, to actually interfere with its contents. (Felix the cat is the symbol of the British Army's Explosive Ordnance Disposal teams and is also used by the Intelligence teams).

Such teams consisted of a special Ammunition Technical Officers, and usually a senior NCO who worked primarily with the SAS and members of the RUC Special Branch, or with their counterparts in the Intelligence Corps, depending upon the task required.

On this occasion it was Captain M himselfwho went on the miesionand carefully sawd through the safety pins inside the rcckets which had been found in the IRA cache. These rockets, or bombards as ttrey are more usually known, had already been used by the IRA to attack armoured vehicles, and had a range ofup to 800 feet. The discovery of these 'mobile mines'was quite a coup. However, by sabotaging them in this fashion, it was quite impossible to predict when or how they would explode: any rough handling would be enough to set them off.

O{'course when Eugene McQuaid was asked to transport the bombards to ttre north on his motorcycle, he could not have known the risk he w_as_taking - though he must have known what the package contained. So he set off towards Newry, as arranged - under close surveillance fi:om the security forces. McQuaid drove quite some way before he encountered the checkpoint set up especially for him on the Dundalk-Newry roadjust north of the bordir, with thi Armyteam set well back from the area for their own safety's sake. Mceuaid braked and turned back towards the Republic. As he did so one of *te looUy-

85

trappedtombards which he had strapped by the bike's petrol tank, -to exploded. (The detonator was struck by a pin attached a sliding weight moving on deceleration.) _ Eugene McQuaid was blown to pieces a hundred yards or so from Donnelly's Garage. A witness who heard the explosion and came out to see what had happened was greeted by the sight of the motorcyclist's severed head, still encased in his helmet, lyingit the foot of a tree,with blood runnil_rg gently from the nose. Ttre-remains of Meuaid's body and motorbike were scattered across the pavement and a freld nearby, and hanging from the tree itself. The witnees described how the Army team anived quickly at the spot and one soldier was seen to approach the severed head, pick up a handful of the dead man's guts, and say, 'That's an end of another of you bastards.'

Had McQuaid been intercepted rather than turned into a live bomb on his journey north, it is quite likely that he would have been broken under intemogation and might haveyielded useful information about the people he was working for. Far more important ie the fact that the motorbike might have exploded on the streets ofDundalk in the south, or in Newry north of the border, where scnres of innocent people mighi have beelr iqiured or killed. There was no possible gua"attt"", otrce-h" had set off, ttrat this wouldn't have happen-ed. yet back at Brigade He in Lurgan, the white mints were out and Captain D and hiJ croniei were congratulating one another.

During 1974 - 5 I was in contact with a senior NCO in the SAS who worked from the 4 Field Survey Tloop at Castledillon. 'Ginge'with his small frame and {ineboned face under a spnout of ginger hair, had

previously been working with an SAS unit based at Ballykelly airfield, disguised as a Signals unit. firie troop was known to have been involi. the case of Sergeant McCormick, RUC, who was drarged with "-"d murder of his colleague Campbell (one of the few Cattrolic RUC the officers). McCormick was alleged to have ananged for the IRA to attack police and Army crnvoys. McCormick's sour@ claimed during the trialg that McCormick himself had taken him, a known IRA man, to the SAS camp at Ballykelly, where he had been given military training. lhe commanding offrcer of the troop at that time still sâ&#x201A;Źrves in the Army.

In 1984 I received a statement from a colleague ofhis accusing him of a particularly horrendous and futile crime. This NCO had been tasked to keep surveillance on an old man who was thought to be giving assistance to the IRA. After a week or so of following the man he became bored and one night, as the man was returning home from the

hispush-bike theNCO ranhimover inaland-mver. Removing the lights from the victim's bike, the NCO reported a fatal 'traffrc accident'. A Coroner's court, attended by the the NCO wearing an ordinary regimental, non-SAS uniform, returned a verdict of acci dental death, on the grounds that the man had no lights on his bike in prrb on

I

84

But at least my role as an intelligence gatherer did not involve me in any fatal or wounding operations, nor did it involve me in perverting

the course ofjustice. However, it did make me only too aware of what occurrd around me. In contrast to the precise act of sabotage Mr Smellie requested from Lisburn, anottrer act was car.ried out in October 1974 which I know resulted in another unnecessary death.

My frrst knowledge of the 'Case of the self-+xploding motor cyclist' carne when I went to Brigade HQ in Lurgan anddiscovered Captain D, Captain M the Brigade's explosive! expert, and others of the lntplligence staff sitting round guffawing like a lot of schmlboys in the tuck--shop. The big jar of white mints they kept to celebrate suocesses in the freld was being passed round. The killing of Eugene McQuaid the event being celebrated - had been well planned and intelligence sources in the south were heavily involved. An arms cache had been discovered some time previously across the border. Inetrumental in allowing an ordnance expert to cross into County Monaghan and take a look at it, the Garda had also contacted an Irish Army officer with a view to getting him involved: and he claimed that he been given leave for this approach from a higher authority in both the Eire Army and the Garda itself. But the officer reported the matter to GHQ in Dublin.

A report was then compiled concerning hig role as an undercover agent for the British - but to no apparent effect. Instead he was later able to arrange for a 'Covert Felix' team from north of the border to go across and, rather than simply inspect the cache, to actually interfere with its contents. (Felix the cat is the symbol of the British Army's Explosive Ordnance Disposal teams and is also used by the Intelligence teams).

Such teams consisted of a special Ammunition Technical Officers, and usually a senior NCO who worked primarily with the SAS and members of the RUC Special Branch, or with their counterparts in the Intelligence Corps, depending upon the task required.

On this occasion it was Captain M himselfwho went on the miesionand carefully sawd through the safety pins inside the rcckets which had been found in the IRA cache. These rockets, or bombards as ttrey are more usually known, had already been used by the IRA to attack armoured vehicles, and had a range ofup to 800 feet. The discovery of these 'mobile mines'was quite a coup. However, by sabotaging them in this fashion, it was quite impossible to predict when or how they would explode: any rough handling would be enough to set them off.

O{'course when Eugene McQuaid was asked to transport the bombards to ttre north on his motorcycle, he could not have known the risk he w_as_taking - though he must have known what the package contained. So he set off towards Newry, as arranged - under close surveillance fi:om the security forces. McQuaid drove quite some way before he encountered the checkpoint set up especially for him on the Dundalk-Newry roadjust north of the bordir, with thi Armyteam set well back from the area for their own safety's sake. Mceuaid braked and turned back towards the Republic. As he did so one of *te looUy-

85

trappedtombards which he had strapped by the bike's petrol tank, -to exploded. (The detonator was struck by a pin attached a sliding weight moving on deceleration.) _ Eugene McQuaid was blown to pieces a hundred yards or so from Donnelly's Garage. A witness who heard the explosion and came out to see what had happened was greeted by the sight of the motorcyclist's severed head, still encased in his helmet, lyingit the foot of a tree,with blood runnil_rg gently from the nose. Ttre-remains of Meuaid's body and motorbike were scattered across the pavement and a freld nearby, and hanging from the tree itself. The witnees described how the Army team anived quickly at the spot and one soldier was seen to approach the severed head, pick up a handful of the dead man's guts, and say, 'That's an end of another of you bastards.'

Had McQuaid been intercepted rather than turned into a live bomb on his journey north, it is quite likely that he would have been broken under intemogation and might haveyielded useful information about the people he was working for. Far more important ie the fact that the motorbike might have exploded on the streets ofDundalk in the south, or in Newry north of the border, where scnres of innocent people mighi have beelr iqiured or killed. There was no possible gua"attt"", otrce-h" had set off, ttrat this wouldn't have happen-ed. yet back at Brigade He in Lurgan, the white mints were out and Captain D and hiJ croniei were congratulating one another.

During 1974 - 5 I was in contact with a senior NCO in the SAS who worked from the 4 Field Survey Tloop at Castledillon. 'Ginge'with his small frame and {ineboned face under a spnout of ginger hair, had

previously been working with an SAS unit based at Ballykelly airfield, disguised as a Signals unit. firie troop was known to have been involi. the case of Sergeant McCormick, RUC, who was drarged with "-"d murder of his colleague Campbell (one of the few Cattrolic RUC the officers). McCormick was alleged to have ananged for the IRA to attack police and Army crnvoys. McCormick's sour@ claimed during the trialg that McCormick himself had taken him, a known IRA man, to the SAS camp at Ballykelly, where he had been given military training. lhe commanding offrcer of the troop at that time still sâ&#x201A;Źrves in the Army.

In 1984 I received a statement from a colleague ofhis accusing him of a particularly horrendous and futile crime. This NCO had been tasked to keep surveillance on an old man who was thought to be giving assistance to the IRA. After a week or so of following the man he became bored and one night, as the man was returning home from the

hispush-bike theNCO ranhimover inaland-mver. Removing the lights from the victim's bike, the NCO reported a fatal 'traffrc accident'. A Coroner's court, attended by the the NCO wearing an ordinary regimental, non-SAS uniform, returned a verdict of acci dental death, on the grounds that the man had no lights on his bike in prrb on

I

86

poor visibility. The NCO gained some notoriety in his unit and was thereafter referred to as'Genie and his magic lamp'. I attempted to give this statement to the Essex Police who informed me that as the crime occurred outside their area, it was not their responsibility. As I know from bitter experience that the RUC have engaged irr many cover-ups ofthese events, this case apparently will never be investigated, even though the informant identifies himself in the statâ&#x201A;Źment.

87

himself escorted by one of the RUC men who he claims gave the assassination squad weapons and collaborated in the murder of Catholics. He was seen leaving the court in a car after the trial and was

taken to Musgrave Park Hospital military wing. From there he was flown back to England to serve his prison sentence. Baker claims that he had been visited by a senior Northern Ireland Minister (who he has named, but who cannot recall the conversation) trefore his trial and offered a deal: if he didn't reveal the involvement of a number of RUC olficers in the sectarian killings by the UDA, and confessed to four of

'Ginge's' career in Ireland provides an interesting contrast with another 'Ginge', Albert 'Ginger' Baker. A Belfast man, Baker was a Ranger (Private) in the Royal Irish Rangers and was recruited to work for Biitish Intelligence in the early 1970's. He claims that he was based with the 'Freds', a group variously called the Mobile Reconn-

four years, and he would then be returned to Ireland and released at the first opportunity.

woodwith his trandler', anexSAS, Parachute Regimentoffrcer. I know that this unit existed because one of my fellow students at AsMord told me while I was serving in Ireland, that he had worked with this unit.

He also claims that the Minister agreed his family would be moved to England and given a house next to the prison where he was serving his sentence. He claims this deal was reneged upon and has subsequently spent 16 years in prison, 10 of them in solitary conflrnement.

aissance Force and so on. What is known forcertainisthatthe unithad the initials 'MRF'. They were based in Army married quarters in Hollywood barracks in Belfast. Baker claims that he lived in Holly-

Much has been written about MRF (most of it inaccurate, much of it just guesswork). It was a prototype SAS undercover unit set up as a result of Brigadier Frank Kitson's new counter-insurgency theories.

MRF consisted of officers with SAS training, a number of NCOs of Belfast origin serving in regiments ofthe Army, such as the Parachute Regiment and the Intelligerice Corps, and eventually'turrred' terrorists from both sides who had been recruited. This is recogrrisably a Kitson--style 'pseudo'or'counter'gang. But, as the first such attempt in Ireland, it began to go wrong. At one point MRF personnel were regularly appearing in court, some charged with serious offences, including shootings. Around latnL972,MRF was wound up in Belfast and another, more professional unit, consisting of more reliable re-

cruiting material, was formed at Ballykelly, disguised as a Signals Tloop, a common cover for SAS. Soon after, a third undercover troop was set up as 4 Field Survey TYoop Royal Engineers, mentioned elsewhere in this book. In 1988 the Ministry of Defence propaganda machine tried to explain away all these units as being one hitherto secret unit, '14th Intelligence Company'. 14th Intelligence is said to exist today, but to my knowledge was.created not in 1972 but in the early 1980s. It is ofcourse possible that'14th Intelligence'is an entirely phantom unit, the result of the MOD's disinformation unit.

Baker claims he was tasked to penetrate the UDA and became a member of their No. 1 assassination squad, carrying out some 30 murders. When he returned to his Army unit, the Army claimed he was a deserter who had turned himself in. They courtmarshalled him and he ended up back in England. While with the unit as a regular soldier he gtit drunk and went into the police station at Warminster, where he confessed everything, including the murders. He was then escorted back to Ulster to face trial. When he went for trial he found

the murders, he would serve his sentence in England, would only serve

He has maintained this story since his incarceration and has petitioned to be returned to Northern Ireland to serve his sentence in a special prison unit forreformed terrorists who have servedthe security services. His petition was recently turned down, despite questions being asked in the House of Commons by Ken Livingstone. He has

given long interviews to Frank I)oherty, the journalist and to Ken

Livingstone MP. He genuinely believes that his life is still in danger from the British state.

There is, however, a neat twist to this story. I traced Ginger, in 1987, to the same prison as the so--called Birmingham Six, whose tragic history has been revealed elsewhere. He was actually beingheld in the same cell block. I managed to arrange for a reputable journalist (to the right of centre and sceptical of Baker's claims) to contact Ginger, since he had consulted me on a frlm he was making about these matters, and wanted to meet him. I don't actually know what transpired; but I do know that when thisjournalist went over to Ireland at the end of 1987 to research his project further, he came face to face with exactly the kind of attitude I am familiar with.

The Special Branch grabbed him at the airport, and gave him four hours ofsearching and questioning in an office there. I gather that ever since he has become as paranoid as I sometimes can be. Quite how this has affected his system of values I cannot tell. My point is that until one comes up against these people it is very hard to imagine how they can behave as they do.

The 'Ginges' have more in common than their nicknames - they acted in the service of the'British forces supposedly in Ireland to maintain the rule of law and order. Their actions result-ed in the deaths ofseveral ofthe native population. Their separate careers have been manipulated by those they served, in the same clandestine manner

86

poor visibility. The NCO gained some notoriety in his unit and was thereafter referred to as'Genie and his magic lamp'. I attempted to give this statement to the Essex Police who informed me that as the crime occurred outside their area, it was not their responsibility. As I know from bitter experience that the RUC have engaged irr many cover-ups ofthese events, this case apparently will never be investigated, even though the informant identifies himself in the statâ&#x201A;Źment.

87

himself escorted by one of the RUC men who he claims gave the assassination squad weapons and collaborated in the murder of Catholics. He was seen leaving the court in a car after the trial and was

taken to Musgrave Park Hospital military wing. From there he was flown back to England to serve his prison sentence. Baker claims that he had been visited by a senior Northern Ireland Minister (who he has named, but who cannot recall the conversation) trefore his trial and offered a deal: if he didn't reveal the involvement of a number of RUC olficers in the sectarian killings by the UDA, and confessed to four of

'Ginge's' career in Ireland provides an interesting contrast with another 'Ginge', Albert 'Ginger' Baker. A Belfast man, Baker was a Ranger (Private) in the Royal Irish Rangers and was recruited to work for Biitish Intelligence in the early 1970's. He claims that he was based with the 'Freds', a group variously called the Mobile Reconn-

four years, and he would then be returned to Ireland and released at the first opportunity.

woodwith his trandler', anexSAS, Parachute Regimentoffrcer. I know that this unit existed because one of my fellow students at AsMord told me while I was serving in Ireland, that he had worked with this unit.

He also claims that the Minister agreed his family would be moved to England and given a house next to the prison where he was serving his sentence. He claims this deal was reneged upon and has subsequently spent 16 years in prison, 10 of them in solitary conflrnement.

aissance Force and so on. What is known forcertainisthatthe unithad the initials 'MRF'. They were based in Army married quarters in Hollywood barracks in Belfast. Baker claims that he lived in Holly-

Much has been written about MRF (most of it inaccurate, much of it just guesswork). It was a prototype SAS undercover unit set up as a result of Brigadier Frank Kitson's new counter-insurgency theories.

MRF consisted of officers with SAS training, a number of NCOs of Belfast origin serving in regiments ofthe Army, such as the Parachute Regiment and the Intelligerice Corps, and eventually'turrred' terrorists from both sides who had been recruited. This is recogrrisably a Kitson--style 'pseudo'or'counter'gang. But, as the first such attempt in Ireland, it began to go wrong. At one point MRF personnel were regularly appearing in court, some charged with serious offences, including shootings. Around latnL972,MRF was wound up in Belfast and another, more professional unit, consisting of more reliable re-

cruiting material, was formed at Ballykelly, disguised as a Signals Tloop, a common cover for SAS. Soon after, a third undercover troop was set up as 4 Field Survey TYoop Royal Engineers, mentioned elsewhere in this book. In 1988 the Ministry of Defence propaganda machine tried to explain away all these units as being one hitherto secret unit, '14th Intelligence Company'. 14th Intelligence is said to exist today, but to my knowledge was.created not in 1972 but in the early 1980s. It is ofcourse possible that'14th Intelligence'is an entirely phantom unit, the result of the MOD's disinformation unit.

Baker claims he was tasked to penetrate the UDA and became a member of their No. 1 assassination squad, carrying out some 30 murders. When he returned to his Army unit, the Army claimed he was a deserter who had turned himself in. They courtmarshalled him and he ended up back in England. While with the unit as a regular soldier he gtit drunk and went into the police station at Warminster, where he confessed everything, including the murders. He was then escorted back to Ulster to face trial. When he went for trial he found

the murders, he would serve his sentence in England, would only serve

He has maintained this story since his incarceration and has petitioned to be returned to Northern Ireland to serve his sentence in a special prison unit forreformed terrorists who have servedthe security services. His petition was recently turned down, despite questions being asked in the House of Commons by Ken Livingstone. He has

given long interviews to Frank I)oherty, the journalist and to Ken

Livingstone MP. He genuinely believes that his life is still in danger from the British state.

There is, however, a neat twist to this story. I traced Ginger, in 1987, to the same prison as the so--called Birmingham Six, whose tragic history has been revealed elsewhere. He was actually beingheld in the same cell block. I managed to arrange for a reputable journalist (to the right of centre and sceptical of Baker's claims) to contact Ginger, since he had consulted me on a frlm he was making about these matters, and wanted to meet him. I don't actually know what transpired; but I do know that when thisjournalist went over to Ireland at the end of 1987 to research his project further, he came face to face with exactly the kind of attitude I am familiar with.

The Special Branch grabbed him at the airport, and gave him four hours ofsearching and questioning in an office there. I gather that ever since he has become as paranoid as I sometimes can be. Quite how this has affected his system of values I cannot tell. My point is that until one comes up against these people it is very hard to imagine how they can behave as they do.

The 'Ginges' have more in common than their nicknames - they acted in the service of the'British forces supposedly in Ireland to maintain the rule of law and order. Their actions result-ed in the deaths ofseveral ofthe native population. Their separate careers have been manipulated by those they served, in the same clandestine manner

88

with which they carried out their operations' And anyone w-houtt"*pf" t" prob6 into such matters is liable to receive the same kind of

6

treatment.

THE INTELLIGENCE WEB ln

7975-76, Northern Ireland became one of the battlegrounds for a damaging feud between MI6, the Secret Intelligence Service, and MI5, the Security Service. The two civilian Intelligence agencies have long had a history of rivalry, particularly in areas where it is uncertain as to which should be the predominant service. Tladitionally, MI6 has operated on foreign soil, while MI5 has been responsible for domestic security. This is a simplification, for there are countless crossdealings, and reasons for interplay, but in the case ofNorthern Ireland cooperation reached an all-time low. Given the difficult question of

exactly how to determine the sovereignty of the province, this is, perhaps, not surprising. Since 1972, MI6 had dominated the scene. But during the course ofthis feud, it lost ground to its rival organisation; and the result was the SIS chief being posted out of Lisburn, the poaching ofthe network ofhandles and sources he had been running,

and the imposition of an entirely different kind of Intelligence gathering, whose lack of scruples made it a perfect foil to the kind of dirty tricks I have already described.

I am not trying to paint MI6 as some kind of welfare organisation.

Their reluctance to get involved in the more disreputable activities of this'dirty war'was professional rather than ethical. MI6 were certainly capable of running some dubious operations. It was MI6 who organised the Littlejohn brothers in their campaign of bank robberies in 1972; and I was asked in 1974 by my MI6 controller, Craig Smellie, if I would consider robbing a bank. I declined, explaining that this was not part of the duties of one of Her Majesty's offrcerâ&#x201A;Ź and he never mentioned it again.The point is that for MI6 the name of the game was essentially persuasion, penetration, information. MI6 had many years experience of handling agents in hostile territory and they had learned that brutality didn't work. Further, MI6 were sophisticated enough to know that in the end some kihdofpolitical settlement wouldhave tobe worked out; and such a deal would not be facilitated by alienating a section of the community who would have to be included in any settlement.

88

with which they carried out their operations' And anyone w-houtt"*pf" t" prob6 into such matters is liable to receive the same kind of

6

treatment.

THE INTELLIGENCE WEB ln

7975-76, Northern Ireland became one of the battlegrounds for a damaging feud between MI6, the Secret Intelligence Service, and MI5, the Security Service. The two civilian Intelligence agencies have long had a history of rivalry, particularly in areas where it is uncertain as to which should be the predominant service. Tladitionally, MI6 has operated on foreign soil, while MI5 has been responsible for domestic security. This is a simplification, for there are countless crossdealings, and reasons for interplay, but in the case ofNorthern Ireland cooperation reached an all-time low. Given the difficult question of

exactly how to determine the sovereignty of the province, this is, perhaps, not surprising. Since 1972, MI6 had dominated the scene. But during the course ofthis feud, it lost ground to its rival organisation; and the result was the SIS chief being posted out of Lisburn, the poaching ofthe network ofhandles and sources he had been running,

and the imposition of an entirely different kind of Intelligence gathering, whose lack of scruples made it a perfect foil to the kind of dirty tricks I have already described.

I am not trying to paint MI6 as some kind of welfare organisation.

Their reluctance to get involved in the more disreputable activities of this'dirty war'was professional rather than ethical. MI6 were certainly capable of running some dubious operations. It was MI6 who organised the Littlejohn brothers in their campaign of bank robberies in 1972; and I was asked in 1974 by my MI6 controller, Craig Smellie, if I would consider robbing a bank. I declined, explaining that this was not part of the duties of one of Her Majesty's offrcerâ&#x201A;Ź and he never mentioned it again.The point is that for MI6 the name of the game was essentially persuasion, penetration, information. MI6 had many years experience of handling agents in hostile territory and they had learned that brutality didn't work. Further, MI6 were sophisticated enough to know that in the end some kihdofpolitical settlement wouldhave tobe worked out; and such a deal would not be facilitated by alienating a section of the community who would have to be included in any settlement.

90

91

In spite of the seamier side of our activities as agents for Craig Smellie, when it came to handling sources, both Bunny Dearsley and myself were encouraged by Smellie to take a humane attitude. We understood what risks they were taking, and we knew that the most sensible way to treat our sources then was with an honest and friendly manner, making sure they were looked after, and only using information that did not compromise their safety. When Bunny left the province, and offrcially handed over souroes like Dreamcoat and Folorn Hope to me, he left, me a tape, describing his dealings with them, the best way to approach them, and how to make sure they stayed in place, giving us the kind of Intelligence we would make real use of. I carried on where he left off. And I understood that our particular way of recruiting and maintaining our sources meant that we had to be trusted friends of theirs. Personally, I actually enjoyed drinking with Dreamcoat and listening to Goldilocks and her lurid tales. But the importance of this attitude was that this was the most effective means of eliciting Intelligence.

The agent handlers MI5 sought to bring in, drawn not only from the Intelligence Corps, but the SAS as well, had a very different kind of understanding. Their policy was basic and shortsighted - use whatever means, legal or illegal, to blackmail the source into acting out of fear for his or her safety, then force them to carr;r out operations which cannot be traced back to the handler, unless the former is prepared to risk his or her life by confesbing what he or she has done. Thig means that, instead of running a network full of mutual trust and support, based on the handlers'abilities to exploit dissatisfaction or the desire for revenge on the part of the sources, there was an embittered and fragmented operation, in which no one could a{ford to turn his back.

There was no possible long-term future in such manipulation, and the danger to those we would need to keep in place was so increased that any shortterm gains were effectively nullifred. Butsuchwasthepolicy the new masters were determined to introduce in Ulster. The casualties were manifold.

In describing how we recruited Folorn Hope, through the indiscretion of Captain R, I spoke of how his commanding offrcer, Colonel B, was incensed by what we had done, and was unlikely to let us get away with it. We could have had no idea, that he would actually arrange to have us ambushed by British Army soldiers in order to scare us offour source, so that she could be reclaimed by others. But then, we were unaware at the time that these were amongst the first blows in our area being struck at the behest ofthe Security Service in order to get

Ml6--oriented officers out of the way. At the time

I thought

these

conflicts on our side were merely personality clashes.

The ambush happened one night as we were bringing the woman back to her home after a debriefing. We had been driving her round to various places, so she could point out certain houses and personalities.

It wa! our custom to park at the far side of an estate in Lurgan, where she_lved, in a dark lane. Bunny would walk just behind Fo-rlorn Hope and I would cover his back, with my sub-machine gun hidden undlr n1y jacket, half turning this way and that to make suie everything was all right. On this particular night, quite plainly, it was not.'SuddJnly I heaxL a whispering from the bushes in fron[ of us, followed by a g"ytfli"g sound. Bunny immediately grabbed Forlorn ilope and bund-

led her down. He drew his pistol and waited. Nothing happened. And then, again, I heard whispeiing. Bunny was being caled iorwards the bushes. I waited behind, covering him as he mad6 his way forward. A figure stepped out ofthe bushes. I could see them talking. dther figures became visible - all in civilian clothes, carrXring weapo"r. I wonlered, just what-was going on, but Bunny was talking-to them in such a way that I had realised that they were not hostile. Now I could see clearly they were carrying British Army weapons. I assumed they were UDi. mgrll or something of the kind. But then Bunny came back to me He said 'You'll never believe this. Stay here till I get her home then -'He helped our source to her feet and ushered her off down the lane. I y.uiQd for him, while the frgures in the dark stood around, looking highly embarrassed, saying nothing. Bunny was back very quickly. HI brought one of them over to me andiaid, 'Go on! Tell himt;tirls giitisn soldier then proceeded to describe how he had received orders to come out there with a squad ofmen and shoot at us, in order to scare us away from the area so that we wouldn't return. I said I didn't believe him. HL insisted that it was the truth, and that by challenging us instead and lettin-g usknow that we had been set up, he was disobJying orders and would no doubt sufferthe consequences, but since hewas aioldierfrom lunny's old unit, and had the ulmost respect for him, he felt he had no

choice. pha_king mytread angrily, I went back to the car. Bunny, meanwhile, -helped the soldier concoct a reasonable story as to why he'had failed to carry out the ambush. He then joined me in the car. We left the scene, and discussed our plan of action. We knew only that the order for the ambush had come from the Battalion Commander. Our only option yag !o go and,see Craig Smellie in Lisburn and tell him exactly what had happened, in the hope that he would have the power to do some-

thing about it.

This we did. Smellie was suitably outraged. We left his office, without any doubt that some action would be taken. The next day, we learned that the Colonel had been posted immediately and was on his way to Cyprus to take up a new appointment. I later discovered that the_plan, conceived by Brigade Intelligence Staff was designed to

frighten offmyself and Bunny, leaving them free to recruit and run our source for MI5. What they hdd failed to realise was that, had the shots been fired at us at close range, far from running away, we would have to retaliate in kind which may have led to Britiih soldiers being killed

by British soldiers, and the resultant furore would have mide the

90

91

In spite of the seamier side of our activities as agents for Craig Smellie, when it came to handling sources, both Bunny Dearsley and myself were encouraged by Smellie to take a humane attitude. We understood what risks they were taking, and we knew that the most sensible way to treat our sources then was with an honest and friendly manner, making sure they were looked after, and only using information that did not compromise their safety. When Bunny left the province, and offrcially handed over souroes like Dreamcoat and Folorn Hope to me, he left, me a tape, describing his dealings with them, the best way to approach them, and how to make sure they stayed in place, giving us the kind of Intelligence we would make real use of. I carried on where he left off. And I understood that our particular way of recruiting and maintaining our sources meant that we had to be trusted friends of theirs. Personally, I actually enjoyed drinking with Dreamcoat and listening to Goldilocks and her lurid tales. But the importance of this attitude was that this was the most effective means of eliciting Intelligence.

The agent handlers MI5 sought to bring in, drawn not only from the Intelligence Corps, but the SAS as well, had a very different kind of understanding. Their policy was basic and shortsighted - use whatever means, legal or illegal, to blackmail the source into acting out of fear for his or her safety, then force them to carr;r out operations which cannot be traced back to the handler, unless the former is prepared to risk his or her life by confesbing what he or she has done. Thig means that, instead of running a network full of mutual trust and support, based on the handlers'abilities to exploit dissatisfaction or the desire for revenge on the part of the sources, there was an embittered and fragmented operation, in which no one could a{ford to turn his back.

There was no possible long-term future in such manipulation, and the danger to those we would need to keep in place was so increased that any shortterm gains were effectively nullifred. Butsuchwasthepolicy the new masters were determined to introduce in Ulster. The casualties were manifold.

In describing how we recruited Folorn Hope, through the indiscretion of Captain R, I spoke of how his commanding offrcer, Colonel B, was incensed by what we had done, and was unlikely to let us get away with it. We could have had no idea, that he would actually arrange to have us ambushed by British Army soldiers in order to scare us offour source, so that she could be reclaimed by others. But then, we were unaware at the time that these were amongst the first blows in our area being struck at the behest ofthe Security Service in order to get

Ml6--oriented officers out of the way. At the time

I thought

these

conflicts on our side were merely personality clashes.

The ambush happened one night as we were bringing the woman back to her home after a debriefing. We had been driving her round to various places, so she could point out certain houses and personalities.

It wa! our custom to park at the far side of an estate in Lurgan, where she_lved, in a dark lane. Bunny would walk just behind Fo-rlorn Hope and I would cover his back, with my sub-machine gun hidden undlr n1y jacket, half turning this way and that to make suie everything was all right. On this particular night, quite plainly, it was not.'SuddJnly I heaxL a whispering from the bushes in fron[ of us, followed by a g"ytfli"g sound. Bunny immediately grabbed Forlorn ilope and bund-

led her down. He drew his pistol and waited. Nothing happened. And then, again, I heard whispeiing. Bunny was being caled iorwards the bushes. I waited behind, covering him as he mad6 his way forward. A figure stepped out ofthe bushes. I could see them talking. dther figures became visible - all in civilian clothes, carrXring weapo"r. I wonlered, just what-was going on, but Bunny was talking-to them in such a way that I had realised that they were not hostile. Now I could see clearly they were carrying British Army weapons. I assumed they were UDi. mgrll or something of the kind. But then Bunny came back to me He said 'You'll never believe this. Stay here till I get her home then -'He helped our source to her feet and ushered her off down the lane. I y.uiQd for him, while the frgures in the dark stood around, looking highly embarrassed, saying nothing. Bunny was back very quickly. HI brought one of them over to me andiaid, 'Go on! Tell himt;tirls giitisn soldier then proceeded to describe how he had received orders to come out there with a squad ofmen and shoot at us, in order to scare us away from the area so that we wouldn't return. I said I didn't believe him. HL insisted that it was the truth, and that by challenging us instead and lettin-g usknow that we had been set up, he was disobJying orders and would no doubt sufferthe consequences, but since hewas aioldierfrom lunny's old unit, and had the ulmost respect for him, he felt he had no

choice. pha_king mytread angrily, I went back to the car. Bunny, meanwhile, -helped the soldier concoct a reasonable story as to why he'had failed to carry out the ambush. He then joined me in the car. We left the scene, and discussed our plan of action. We knew only that the order for the ambush had come from the Battalion Commander. Our only option yag !o go and,see Craig Smellie in Lisburn and tell him exactly what had happened, in the hope that he would have the power to do some-

thing about it.

This we did. Smellie was suitably outraged. We left his office, without any doubt that some action would be taken. The next day, we learned that the Colonel had been posted immediately and was on his way to Cyprus to take up a new appointment. I later discovered that the_plan, conceived by Brigade Intelligence Staff was designed to

frighten offmyself and Bunny, leaving them free to recruit and run our source for MI5. What they hdd failed to realise was that, had the shots been fired at us at close range, far from running away, we would have to retaliate in kind which may have led to Britiih soldiers being killed

by British soldiers, and the resultant furore would have mide the

92

93

Gilford Castle incident I mentioned earlier seem like a tea party. Yet Brigade presumably had been willing to sanction this, with all the risks involved. It was a measure ofjust how bitter the inter-service

rivalry had become.

Theie were other signs along the way. On one of our foraging exped-

itions round the Republican estate of Kilwilkie, at the back of St Coleman's Cemetery, we had used our authority to have an area of one square mile sealed off, for as long as we needed it - out of bounds to regular Army personnel. This was to ensure that no Army personnel would mistake us, armed and in civilian clothes, for terrorists. Although Brigade had been annoyed about our activity they were unable to stop us, but they arranged for Land Rovers to be placed with soldiers inside, all around the perimeter, to check our movements so that on the following day a Patrol could comb the area and effectively undermine the clandestine nature of our work for M[6.

We were coming out, our task accomplished - Bunny, myself and two local RUC officers - when Bunny suddenly put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me, 'Can you smell it?'he asked in a whisper. For a moment, I thought he had gone crazy. 'It's gelly'he said. 'Gelly!'Still, I didn't cotton on, for to me, IRA explosives meant Co-op mix, or Anfo; they smelled of diesel. Gelignite has a completely different smell altogether - a smell of marzipan - and it wasn't one I was familiar

with.

Bunny then disappeared into the double hedgerow beside us. We had been very careful until now, scanning the area with a nightscope, keeping quiet, dressed in our dark gear. Suddenly, he started shining a torch around him, breaking branches as he laboured to drag something out of the hedgerow. And I was left with the two policemen, thinking 'Here we go, there's going to be boyos here soon . . . 'But, fortunately, no one heard Bunny but ourselves.

He came out of the hedgerow with a big shopping bag full of rather old gelignite, wired up with cortex and detonator's, and set it at my feetHe then proceeded to take this bomb apart in front of me, while I gulped nervously, trying to hide my dislike of explosives, recalling the time at Ashford when I had been made to manufacture the chemical Molotov.

When he had frniehed, he put the stinking explosives back in the bag and handed it to me. 'What do ybu want me to do with it?'I asked.

Bunny smiled. 'Just get rid of it, Fred,'he said.

In fact, the bomb was in such a volatile state that it would have had to have been used within the next twenty four hours, in Lurgan or a similar location nearby, or it would have been too dangerous to move at all. So we had to take it out. I ended up driving the stuffback to my own home, with a foul headache as a result, and keeping it overnight in a field. Early the next morning, I took it down to Mahon Road camp and explained my dilemma to the 2 i/c there, a Mqjor in the Green Howards Regiment. I told him how I had come across the bomb in the course of

my work for MI6 and that it was on the Brigadier's patch; if he found it would simply prove a further source of conflict. I knew the regiment had some troops at Cookstown and Dungannon, and I asked the Major if he could arrange for the shopping bag to be taken there, so that his soldiers could claim the credit for finding it, and could avoid having to involve the Brigadier. He duly agreed, and I left the camp.

I then visited the SAS at Castledillon. On my return I had a message to report to the Brigade Commander, to return a bor:rowed Ingram sub-machine gun. I went straight to Lurgan and into his offrce. I had to endure a tirade of abuse . . . How dare I operate in this manner in his area, what the hell did I think I was doing trying to arrange for the bomb to be transported to Dungannon without his knowing . . . and so on. It was an extraordinary display of animosity. And the fact was, he wasn't entitled to know what I had been doing; those were the rules, but he wouldn't accept them.

I left Lurgan, with no doubts as to just how deep this inter-agency antagonism had become. This was reinforced when a short while later, a StaffSergeant, a Brigade Intelligence Collator, said quite openly to me -'We're going to fix you one day, Fred. Don't worry.'It was offered in ajokey sort ofway and I responded in kind.

Through all this, however, I remained certain that my own Colonel would defend me, whatever happened. I had only acted on his orders, and I had kept him fully informed ofthe ill-feeling aroused, and he had continually assured me that I was acting correctly, and that he would batch my back' if Brigade HQ tried to create mischief for me. I believed that I was a good operator,.who had achieved far more than had been expected of me and I believed my Colonel would support me.

That was my mistake. Colonel D at this time, far from supporting me, as he claimed, wrote a confidential report on me, which stated that I was working on my own and showed little respect for my responsibilities. I was appalled. I made a point of going to Lisburn and talking to him about it. I confronted him as he was walking through the camp and asked why he had done this. Not surprisingly, he was extremely embarrassed and refused to discuss the report. I felt disgusted at his lack of loyalty. I went instead to the Assistant Chief Constable of my police Division - who contacted the Army authorities in an attempt to put things right. I was later assured that the report had been amended.

This did not, however, explain Colonel D's deceit.

out,

It wasn't until

-some

years later that I discovered that at the time he had actually been running a source for MI5. This was admitted by the Ministry of Defence. In other words, D was MI5's man. Earlier, I described my recruitment into MI6, and how I dutifully consulted with my CO, who insist€d I pass a secret copy of everything that came my way to him. But D was working for the rival organisation. It ie inevitable that he passed these opies to MI5. One may safely assume that it had some bearing on the way in which '5' so easily penetrated the '6'

92

93

Gilford Castle incident I mentioned earlier seem like a tea party. Yet Brigade presumably had been willing to sanction this, with all the risks involved. It was a measure ofjust how bitter the inter-service

rivalry had become.

Theie were other signs along the way. On one of our foraging exped-

itions round the Republican estate of Kilwilkie, at the back of St Coleman's Cemetery, we had used our authority to have an area of one square mile sealed off, for as long as we needed it - out of bounds to regular Army personnel. This was to ensure that no Army personnel would mistake us, armed and in civilian clothes, for terrorists. Although Brigade had been annoyed about our activity they were unable to stop us, but they arranged for Land Rovers to be placed with soldiers inside, all around the perimeter, to check our movements so that on the following day a Patrol could comb the area and effectively undermine the clandestine nature of our work for M[6.

We were coming out, our task accomplished - Bunny, myself and two local RUC officers - when Bunny suddenly put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me, 'Can you smell it?'he asked in a whisper. For a moment, I thought he had gone crazy. 'It's gelly'he said. 'Gelly!'Still, I didn't cotton on, for to me, IRA explosives meant Co-op mix, or Anfo; they smelled of diesel. Gelignite has a completely different smell altogether - a smell of marzipan - and it wasn't one I was familiar

with.

Bunny then disappeared into the double hedgerow beside us. We had been very careful until now, scanning the area with a nightscope, keeping quiet, dressed in our dark gear. Suddenly, he started shining a torch around him, breaking branches as he laboured to drag something out of the hedgerow. And I was left with the two policemen, thinking 'Here we go, there's going to be boyos here soon . . . 'But, fortunately, no one heard Bunny but ourselves.

He came out of the hedgerow with a big shopping bag full of rather old gelignite, wired up with cortex and detonator's, and set it at my feetHe then proceeded to take this bomb apart in front of me, while I gulped nervously, trying to hide my dislike of explosives, recalling the time at Ashford when I had been made to manufacture the chemical Molotov.

When he had frniehed, he put the stinking explosives back in the bag and handed it to me. 'What do ybu want me to do with it?'I asked.

Bunny smiled. 'Just get rid of it, Fred,'he said.

In fact, the bomb was in such a volatile state that it would have had to have been used within the next twenty four hours, in Lurgan or a similar location nearby, or it would have been too dangerous to move at all. So we had to take it out. I ended up driving the stuffback to my own home, with a foul headache as a result, and keeping it overnight in a field. Early the next morning, I took it down to Mahon Road camp and explained my dilemma to the 2 i/c there, a Mqjor in the Green Howards Regiment. I told him how I had come across the bomb in the course of

my work for MI6 and that it was on the Brigadier's patch; if he found it would simply prove a further source of conflict. I knew the regiment had some troops at Cookstown and Dungannon, and I asked the Major if he could arrange for the shopping bag to be taken there, so that his soldiers could claim the credit for finding it, and could avoid having to involve the Brigadier. He duly agreed, and I left the camp.

I then visited the SAS at Castledillon. On my return I had a message to report to the Brigade Commander, to return a bor:rowed Ingram sub-machine gun. I went straight to Lurgan and into his offrce. I had to endure a tirade of abuse . . . How dare I operate in this manner in his area, what the hell did I think I was doing trying to arrange for the bomb to be transported to Dungannon without his knowing . . . and so on. It was an extraordinary display of animosity. And the fact was, he wasn't entitled to know what I had been doing; those were the rules, but he wouldn't accept them.

I left Lurgan, with no doubts as to just how deep this inter-agency antagonism had become. This was reinforced when a short while later, a StaffSergeant, a Brigade Intelligence Collator, said quite openly to me -'We're going to fix you one day, Fred. Don't worry.'It was offered in ajokey sort ofway and I responded in kind.

Through all this, however, I remained certain that my own Colonel would defend me, whatever happened. I had only acted on his orders, and I had kept him fully informed ofthe ill-feeling aroused, and he had continually assured me that I was acting correctly, and that he would batch my back' if Brigade HQ tried to create mischief for me. I believed that I was a good operator,.who had achieved far more than had been expected of me and I believed my Colonel would support me.

That was my mistake. Colonel D at this time, far from supporting me, as he claimed, wrote a confidential report on me, which stated that I was working on my own and showed little respect for my responsibilities. I was appalled. I made a point of going to Lisburn and talking to him about it. I confronted him as he was walking through the camp and asked why he had done this. Not surprisingly, he was extremely embarrassed and refused to discuss the report. I felt disgusted at his lack of loyalty. I went instead to the Assistant Chief Constable of my police Division - who contacted the Army authorities in an attempt to put things right. I was later assured that the report had been amended.

This did not, however, explain Colonel D's deceit.

out,

It wasn't until

-some

years later that I discovered that at the time he had actually been running a source for MI5. This was admitted by the Ministry of Defence. In other words, D was MI5's man. Earlier, I described my recruitment into MI6, and how I dutifully consulted with my CO, who insist€d I pass a secret copy of everything that came my way to him. But D was working for the rival organisation. It ie inevitable that he passed these opies to MI5. One may safely assume that it had some bearing on the way in which '5' so easily penetrated the '6'

95

94

network, and later took it over. Officers like my Colonel were acting as

their stooges.

HowevJr, in May 1975 D left the province. A new man took over at sMIU Knock. His name was colonel B. I hoped that he would genuinelv back me in mv troubles with Brigade - since he too repeatedly

dss;ea me he would. But again, I was unaware of the connection with MiS at the time. By now, MI5 *et" making sure that all the offrcers sent to fulfrll Inteliigence roles in Ireland were'their men" B was no ally. It was only a mJtter of months before I, too, would leave Ulster, on ihe manufactuted pretext that I had suffered some kind of mental breakdown.

During the course of L974-5,both my parents died from cancer' My mother h"ad been ill for a long time, with various chest complainfs_- she was a hear.y smoker, with a Jevere bronchial condition. Eventually she was takeninto a hospital near Knaresborough, Yorkshire^ for cancer prii*t". She had reconciled with my father many years before, a.nd he now from Harrogate, afewmiles away- Butitwas ,ritit"dh"t ""gularly tftat he had his own medical problem. The doctors then discove.la ,rt nm to go in for tests, and he, too was diagnosed as having lung "a He deiperately needed an operation, but he knew my mother "ut dying, .ttd thut ih" -at determined to come out of hospitel and was""t. live ilihei own home. He was equally determined that he should nurse her there. And that is what happened. My mother died from a haem' orrhage four months after shb discharged herself' I went home at that time' Despite my insisting he go immediately into hospital, my father was determined to supervise my nlotfgrls funeral arrangements. within a week of her cremation he had his oferation in ieeds Hospital. I stayed and saw him through it'Th" d'octors told him it was a complete success, and that he would be frne from then on. While he was in intensive care, I visited him every day, and he made it quite clear to me that I should not try to fool him unde-r any circumstances - if it should be the case that his cancer returned, even if the doctors weren't straight with him about it, I should be' H9 was quite unlike my mother in ihis, since she-seemed very frightened bV thb idea of her own death and we never told her how ill she really was.

I spent all my leave for that year tending t9 my parents' And after mv wife Fiona agreed that he should come over myv fither's operation, my

toireland to iecuperaie with us. He spent six weeks at Bocombra, and he seemed to picl up well. However, after only a few-wee\9 back in Hanogate, it becamC apparent that he wns not very well at all' Irang a speciaiist in Leeds, .na ne told me, quite plainly, that despite the elrher optimisim, my father did indeed have a terminal cancer, due to a secondlry infeciion. He probably had six:nonths to live, no more-' I sat down with Fiona, to discuss what to do. Eventually, we decided the only thing was to bring him over to Ireland again, so that he could die with his family.

We flew back to England, after I had told him the bad news' I arranged a wheelchair flight from Luton. And, I am happy to say, Dad managed to stay on his feet until Bridget, our little girl, was one year old, and he actually saw her walk on her birthday, something he was determined to do. Then he took to his bed, and we all knew it was just a

matteroftime.

I was extremely busy with my work during this period and often didn't get back until the early morning. Then I would stay up and talk with my father for an hour or two - get him through his worst patch, which was normally about four o'clock then go to bed myself. I would rise again at eleven and go back to work until the early hours. This meant I saw little ofmy wife andchildren. Butitwasthrough no lackof commitment on my part. Circumstances simply made it impossible.

While my father was bedridden, Fiona nursed him generously, and I was deeply grateful to her. However, the resentment I have already talked of far from diminishing, had come to a point where relations between us were very strained. And the longer we nursed my father the more pressure it put upon us. Rows broke out over trivial matters and always ended in the same argument, over the nature of my work, which she saw as putting our whole future at risk, but which I saw as a useful contribution to the way of life that made that future at all oossible.

'

Meanwhile that work went on, providing me with a real means of into which I poured an even gteater amount ofenerry and concentration. Where the strain did show, however, was on the social occasions I was obliged to attend in my role as an MIO. During the period when my father was lying in bed at home, I was invited to a number of police functions in Portadown and elsewhere. After crying offfor some time I realized I should have to accept some of the invitations at least. After twenty minutes or so at these evenings I had enough. It made me unhappy to see people eating and drinking and enjoying themselves, when my father was alone in the night, slipping towards death. I would explain quite openly to people there that this was the case, and ttrey all seemed to understand when I left. This kind of painful feeling developed to a point towards the end of my father's illness where I suffered brief anxiety attacks. I would be so worried he would die when I wasn't there that I felt guilty about attending such escape

functions. There was no hysteria involved: I would simply go home and sitwith Dad instead.

Eventually I went to see the doctor who was treating him and described these attacks. He prescribed me some low dosage Valium to dampen the effects until such time as my father died. I later discovered that Fiona had been taking considerable amounts of this drug, getting it on prescriptions ostensibly for me, an indication that the strains upon her were more damaging than she wanted to admit. Her own doctor was my doctor's wife, and they played a central part in what followed - at least according to the Army version of things.

I

95

94

network, and later took it over. Officers like my Colonel were acting as

their stooges.

HowevJr, in May 1975 D left the province. A new man took over at sMIU Knock. His name was colonel B. I hoped that he would genuinelv back me in mv troubles with Brigade - since he too repeatedly

dss;ea me he would. But again, I was unaware of the connection with MiS at the time. By now, MI5 *et" making sure that all the offrcers sent to fulfrll Inteliigence roles in Ireland were'their men" B was no ally. It was only a mJtter of months before I, too, would leave Ulster, on ihe manufactuted pretext that I had suffered some kind of mental breakdown.

During the course of L974-5,both my parents died from cancer' My mother h"ad been ill for a long time, with various chest complainfs_- she was a hear.y smoker, with a Jevere bronchial condition. Eventually she was takeninto a hospital near Knaresborough, Yorkshire^ for cancer prii*t". She had reconciled with my father many years before, a.nd he now from Harrogate, afewmiles away- Butitwas ,ritit"dh"t ""gularly tftat he had his own medical problem. The doctors then discove.la ,rt nm to go in for tests, and he, too was diagnosed as having lung "a He deiperately needed an operation, but he knew my mother "ut dying, .ttd thut ih" -at determined to come out of hospitel and was""t. live ilihei own home. He was equally determined that he should nurse her there. And that is what happened. My mother died from a haem' orrhage four months after shb discharged herself' I went home at that time' Despite my insisting he go immediately into hospital, my father was determined to supervise my nlotfgrls funeral arrangements. within a week of her cremation he had his oferation in ieeds Hospital. I stayed and saw him through it'Th" d'octors told him it was a complete success, and that he would be frne from then on. While he was in intensive care, I visited him every day, and he made it quite clear to me that I should not try to fool him unde-r any circumstances - if it should be the case that his cancer returned, even if the doctors weren't straight with him about it, I should be' H9 was quite unlike my mother in ihis, since she-seemed very frightened bV thb idea of her own death and we never told her how ill she really was.

I spent all my leave for that year tending t9 my parents' And after mv wife Fiona agreed that he should come over myv fither's operation, my

toireland to iecuperaie with us. He spent six weeks at Bocombra, and he seemed to picl up well. However, after only a few-wee\9 back in Hanogate, it becamC apparent that he wns not very well at all' Irang a speciaiist in Leeds, .na ne told me, quite plainly, that despite the elrher optimisim, my father did indeed have a terminal cancer, due to a secondlry infeciion. He probably had six:nonths to live, no more-' I sat down with Fiona, to discuss what to do. Eventually, we decided the only thing was to bring him over to Ireland again, so that he could die with his family.

We flew back to England, after I had told him the bad news' I arranged a wheelchair flight from Luton. And, I am happy to say, Dad managed to stay on his feet until Bridget, our little girl, was one year old, and he actually saw her walk on her birthday, something he was determined to do. Then he took to his bed, and we all knew it was just a

matteroftime.

I was extremely busy with my work during this period and often didn't get back until the early morning. Then I would stay up and talk with my father for an hour or two - get him through his worst patch, which was normally about four o'clock then go to bed myself. I would rise again at eleven and go back to work until the early hours. This meant I saw little ofmy wife andchildren. Butitwasthrough no lackof commitment on my part. Circumstances simply made it impossible.

While my father was bedridden, Fiona nursed him generously, and I was deeply grateful to her. However, the resentment I have already talked of far from diminishing, had come to a point where relations between us were very strained. And the longer we nursed my father the more pressure it put upon us. Rows broke out over trivial matters and always ended in the same argument, over the nature of my work, which she saw as putting our whole future at risk, but which I saw as a useful contribution to the way of life that made that future at all oossible.

'

Meanwhile that work went on, providing me with a real means of into which I poured an even gteater amount ofenerry and concentration. Where the strain did show, however, was on the social occasions I was obliged to attend in my role as an MIO. During the period when my father was lying in bed at home, I was invited to a number of police functions in Portadown and elsewhere. After crying offfor some time I realized I should have to accept some of the invitations at least. After twenty minutes or so at these evenings I had enough. It made me unhappy to see people eating and drinking and enjoying themselves, when my father was alone in the night, slipping towards death. I would explain quite openly to people there that this was the case, and ttrey all seemed to understand when I left. This kind of painful feeling developed to a point towards the end of my father's illness where I suffered brief anxiety attacks. I would be so worried he would die when I wasn't there that I felt guilty about attending such escape

functions. There was no hysteria involved: I would simply go home and sitwith Dad instead.

Eventually I went to see the doctor who was treating him and described these attacks. He prescribed me some low dosage Valium to dampen the effects until such time as my father died. I later discovered that Fiona had been taking considerable amounts of this drug, getting it on prescriptions ostensibly for me, an indication that the strains upon her were more damaging than she wanted to admit. Her own doctor was my doctor's wife, and they played a central part in what followed - at least according to the Army version of things.

I

96

My father died on 13 February 1975. I arranged for his burial and so on. We took leave to England to clear up all his affairs and to have a break. While we were there we drove down to stay with Fiona's mother in Budleigh Salterton. She invited the local GP to dinner one evening.

Just as in Portadown I experienced a briefbut unpleasant sense ofgrief and worry, even though Dad was gone now. I excused mysâ&#x201A;Źlf and went upstairs to lie down. The doctor followed me up and asked me if I wanted him to get me some leave so I shouldn't have to go back to Ireland. I told him that going back would be the best thing I could do, to throw myself once more into my work and let the process of grief go on, as I knew it must, until it was exhausted. I knew, from the experiences of friends, thatthiswas the best waytohandle it-and Iwaslucky that my work was so intensive and rewarding. lhis is exactly what happened. By the time we got back to Portadown I was keen to take up ttre reins again. However, the tension between Fiona and myself only reached new heights. Our domestic life became a daily hell - and when, as inevitably happened, our social arrangements were internrpted by the demands of work, the same bitter rows would flare between us. Yet again I would be called a fool for taking so many risks andgetting nothing for it. It was all so petty and destructive, but once this kind of downward spiral had begun, it was so very hard to stop it.

By February 1975 I had beoome so enraged and dispirited by what was happening at home, I arranged for Fiona to go back to England to try and ease the strain upon both ofus. She stayed with her mother for a fortnight, then telephone me to say that she was feeling much better about things and wanted to come back and try again. (I did not learn until much later that in fact she had been making all kinds of allegations against me while she was in England, including brutality and threats against the children, which I can only put down to the etrains she had endured in the months before.) When Sgt. I drove me to the

airport I was genuinely looking forward to a reconciliation. Yet from the moment Fiona climbed into the car the old quarrels began again. It seemed hopeless.

Throughout the Spring our marriage deteriorated. But just as it had been with Dad's illness, this made me throw myself into my work with an even greater commitment - and this, of course, simply strengthened the downward spiral. By now I was handling the agent known as The Badger in the South, liaising with the Special Branch, and continuing to provide important information to Mr Smellie at Lisburn. Whatever happened with Fiona I was determined that my work ehould not be affected. But it was not to be. I came home one night early in May and

realised that for the frst time ever I had gone off in the morning without checking if I was being followed and adopting the usual techniques to ensure personal security. My private life had, at last, intruded where it did not belong. I had been racking my brains to try and

97

find some new way through the endless bitterness and recrimination and only two or three days before had gone to a travel agent inPortadown and arranged a break for thJwhole family in Ct-anada.

Afterwards I had visited a jeweller's and bought Fiona a-ring. But any peace between us was shortlived. Now I saw that my domJstic problems might.actually lead to my getting killed if I did not act decisively to do something about them. I went in and told Fiona that I could nL long-er g-o on as we were: she would have to go home and base herself

in

England for the rest of my tour. This would not interfere with the Canadian trip, lut it would make sure that the long saga of unhappiness at Bocombra was finally settled. Inevitably, i roi ensued. We were both at our wit's end.

Eventually Fiona went to sleep downstairs and I lay staring angrily at the bedroom ceiling, wondering what the morning woula Urirrg.

When I woke up Fiona had taken the children with lier. I waited a=t home. At 11.30 the Brigade Major rang the doorbell. He told me that Fiona was at his house, very upset, and was making some extraordinary allegations about me - the same allegations I discovered later that she had been making in England. The-worst implied that I had

threatened her and the children with a gun I was keepinginthe house.

F then asked me where the'unattributable weapon'-was. I said there w39 3o_quc!_weapon. I,had had various weapons there, in the past, which I had borrowed from the SAS arrnour5/ for certain operations.

But the only gun I had now was my Army issue Walther ppK. I reasoned with F and tried to explain why I had decided Fiona and I should separate temporarily. F told me that it was too late, simply for $onq to go back to England. He had already sent for my Colonel at Knock. It appeared that the family doctors had been in contact with him and said that if the Army did not remove me to a hospital to have me examined on the grounds of mental instability, then they would have me committed to a civilian clinic. I found-this impossible to believe and demanded to see my wife, to find out exactly what she had b_een saying to F. He refused. I asked to see my children. He told me phey yer_e with Fiona, and I coulnd't see them either. I drew in a deep breath: there was no point in trying to change his mind. All I could do was wait fo1 my Colonel to arrive. I trusted that someone who had my interest at heart would unravel the mess so that I could get back to work as soon as possible. _ Colonel B duly arrived and had a talk with Major F. He then told me he had checked out the whole matter. It was a fact that the doctor had made the Tported statement: they had been told I had threatened my wife and children with a gun and believed I was in need of examinatiol. The Army could, clearly, not take the risk of the threat being carried out, so there was no option for me but to submit myself for i complpte medical investigation. It would all be over by evening and then, he was sure, I could get back to duty.

96

My father died on 13 February 1975. I arranged for his burial and so on. We took leave to England to clear up all his affairs and to have a break. While we were there we drove down to stay with Fiona's mother in Budleigh Salterton. She invited the local GP to dinner one evening.

Just as in Portadown I experienced a briefbut unpleasant sense ofgrief and worry, even though Dad was gone now. I excused mysâ&#x201A;Źlf and went upstairs to lie down. The doctor followed me up and asked me if I wanted him to get me some leave so I shouldn't have to go back to Ireland. I told him that going back would be the best thing I could do, to throw myself once more into my work and let the process of grief go on, as I knew it must, until it was exhausted. I knew, from the experiences of friends, thatthiswas the best waytohandle it-and Iwaslucky that my work was so intensive and rewarding. lhis is exactly what happened. By the time we got back to Portadown I was keen to take up ttre reins again. However, the tension between Fiona and myself only reached new heights. Our domestic life became a daily hell - and when, as inevitably happened, our social arrangements were internrpted by the demands of work, the same bitter rows would flare between us. Yet again I would be called a fool for taking so many risks andgetting nothing for it. It was all so petty and destructive, but once this kind of downward spiral had begun, it was so very hard to stop it.

By February 1975 I had beoome so enraged and dispirited by what was happening at home, I arranged for Fiona to go back to England to try and ease the strain upon both ofus. She stayed with her mother for a fortnight, then telephone me to say that she was feeling much better about things and wanted to come back and try again. (I did not learn until much later that in fact she had been making all kinds of allegations against me while she was in England, including brutality and threats against the children, which I can only put down to the etrains she had endured in the months before.) When Sgt. I drove me to the

airport I was genuinely looking forward to a reconciliation. Yet from the moment Fiona climbed into the car the old quarrels began again. It seemed hopeless.

Throughout the Spring our marriage deteriorated. But just as it had been with Dad's illness, this made me throw myself into my work with an even greater commitment - and this, of course, simply strengthened the downward spiral. By now I was handling the agent known as The Badger in the South, liaising with the Special Branch, and continuing to provide important information to Mr Smellie at Lisburn. Whatever happened with Fiona I was determined that my work ehould not be affected. But it was not to be. I came home one night early in May and

realised that for the frst time ever I had gone off in the morning without checking if I was being followed and adopting the usual techniques to ensure personal security. My private life had, at last, intruded where it did not belong. I had been racking my brains to try and

97

find some new way through the endless bitterness and recrimination and only two or three days before had gone to a travel agent inPortadown and arranged a break for thJwhole family in Ct-anada.

Afterwards I had visited a jeweller's and bought Fiona a-ring. But any peace between us was shortlived. Now I saw that my domJstic problems might.actually lead to my getting killed if I did not act decisively to do something about them. I went in and told Fiona that I could nL long-er g-o on as we were: she would have to go home and base herself

in

England for the rest of my tour. This would not interfere with the Canadian trip, lut it would make sure that the long saga of unhappiness at Bocombra was finally settled. Inevitably, i roi ensued. We were both at our wit's end.

Eventually Fiona went to sleep downstairs and I lay staring angrily at the bedroom ceiling, wondering what the morning woula Urirrg.

When I woke up Fiona had taken the children with lier. I waited a=t home. At 11.30 the Brigade Major rang the doorbell. He told me that Fiona was at his house, very upset, and was making some extraordinary allegations about me - the same allegations I discovered later that she had been making in England. The-worst implied that I had

threatened her and the children with a gun I was keepinginthe house.

F then asked me where the'unattributable weapon'-was. I said there w39 3o_quc!_weapon. I,had had various weapons there, in the past, which I had borrowed from the SAS arrnour5/ for certain operations.

But the only gun I had now was my Army issue Walther ppK. I reasoned with F and tried to explain why I had decided Fiona and I should separate temporarily. F told me that it was too late, simply for $onq to go back to England. He had already sent for my Colonel at Knock. It appeared that the family doctors had been in contact with him and said that if the Army did not remove me to a hospital to have me examined on the grounds of mental instability, then they would have me committed to a civilian clinic. I found-this impossible to believe and demanded to see my wife, to find out exactly what she had b_een saying to F. He refused. I asked to see my children. He told me phey yer_e with Fiona, and I coulnd't see them either. I drew in a deep breath: there was no point in trying to change his mind. All I could do was wait fo1 my Colonel to arrive. I trusted that someone who had my interest at heart would unravel the mess so that I could get back to work as soon as possible. _ Colonel B duly arrived and had a talk with Major F. He then told me he had checked out the whole matter. It was a fact that the doctor had made the Tported statement: they had been told I had threatened my wife and children with a gun and believed I was in need of examinatiol. The Army could, clearly, not take the risk of the threat being carried out, so there was no option for me but to submit myself for i complpte medical investigation. It would all be over by evening and then, he was sure, I could get back to duty.

98

99

Colonel B told me that as he saw it, it was'a storm in a teacup'' He knew what a bad time I had had with my father, and then with Fiona herself. The simplest thing to do would be for me to go alon-g with him now. He had phoned Musgrave Park hospital. Thel'genljl-fit me,in on the military wing, for an examination' Naturally I would pass it and could come-back home, where he would make sure the troubles in my marriage were seriously addressed. Eventually I agreedto go. I really had no-other option. My CO was giving me a direct order. I couldn't disobey it but I let him know that I went under protest.

We drove up to Musgrave Park, Colonel B and myself, chatting pleasantly on the journey. We were both armed however, and retained i suitable sense of security. But as we parked outside the military wing, B turned to me and said I should leave my weapon behind - the hospital staffwere not keen on guns being taken into the premises. I obliged, but no sooner had I forsaken my gun than I had a strong premonition thatl had alreadytakenastep into some kindoftrap. And I was not sure how I was going to get out ofit.

After all the dull, rainswept days days in lreland, this was a glorious early summer morning. We disappeared into the hospital. B told me to wait a minute, and went offto consult with one of the doctors. He came back and told me that I could be seen right away. I followed him into an offrce, and there, sitting at the desk, was an ordinary general practitioner - a man with no specifrc psychiatric skills. He said he had spoken with B who had told him what was what, and he asked me if I had anything to say.

Naturally, I had quite a lot to say. My wife was alleging I had threatened her with a gun; the family doctors apparently believed her, and that was why I was there. When, in actual fact, all I had threatened her with was a trip back to Budleigh Salterbon, and a holiday in Canada.

The doctor looked at me bemusedly, then disappeared and came back

five minutes later. He admitted that frankly, the whole business was beyond him, and that I would have to be admitted to the hospital overnight, until they could get someone from the Army psychiatric institution at Netley flown over to examine me' I was astonished, but agreed to see anyone who could help sort the matter out - only it would

serve no purpose whatsoever to have me admitted, since I wanted to get home and sort the business out with my wife before it all went too far, if it hadn't done already. What was more, I wanted to see my children.

Colonel B intervened at that point to tell me that under no circum-

be allowed any of this' I should have to stay in the I complained this was a domestic matter, and it was not the business of the Army to interfere in such a way. B then told me straight: 'I'm not asking you Fred, I'm telling you' You're staying here.'I was equally straight in return: 'Sorr5r, sir' But that's an illegal order. I'm going.' stances could

I

hospital overnight.

I-g-ot up and walked towards the door. Throughout this time, there had been a soldier present in the wing, in combalkit and armed with a

.

rifle. He was ordered to block my-path, and he did so at once. I challenged him. 'Please move out ofmy way. I'm a Captain in the Royal Corps ofTbansport, and I'm givingyou a direct ordei, This Corporal in the Light Infantry then replied, ,Sorry sir, I've been ordered: ify_ou_try to leave, I'll have to restrain you by foice., ,Who gave y_ou that order?'I asked. 'The CO of the hospitai, sir.;I was outt.g"d by this, and steppedtowards the door. The soidier put his weapon icross ,dkay,' I said, ,Okay, I fig.body and took up a challenging stance. believe yoy.' I turned again to speaklo the Colonel.-,fuhat,s going oin?', I asked_. 'I'm not going to stay here. This isn't Russia. tf mi wiie fras made this statement she is obviously mentally ill.'The Colonel said nothing. 'You come with me to see Fiona', I went on, ,sit there and watch what happens. I'm no threat to her.'The Colonel refused. He said it was a medical matter and that as a layman he simply could not interfere. With which he took his leave of me.

- I was g"iven a small room in one ofthe wards there and left to my own devices. I paced up and down continually, wondering how on earth I was going to get out of this mess. Everywhere I went on the ward I was followed. I didn't sleep at all that night. In the dark hours my initial sense of panic and confusion diminished and I had the time to consider just what was happening to me. I went back over all the events of recent months. I was certain, in any ordinary circumstances, my wife's allegations - if indeed they had been made - would have been thoroughly checked out with me personally, before this kind of action had bee-n taken. In effect, I had been put under guard in hospital before I h-ad g-ry chance to defend myself. It simply wasn't the way things should be done.

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed that something stran_ge was going on - something I couldn't, as yet, begin to understand. Those half-joking threats from Brigade; the Briladier's own personal distaste for me; the conflict of loyalties between the Army and the_po_lice, with the Secret Intelligence Service acting independently, and often against their will - it all seemed to point to some kind of conspiracy. But I realized that if I was going to get through this I would have to look at it more rationalll'. I would have to pinpoint exactly how I had laid myself open to this treatment, and whyl should !av-e been targetted. What I wasn't aware of, that night in Musgrave Park, was just how far an altogether different body might have-been r-esponsible. I just didn't know how ruthless MIb were prepared to be in !he!r quest to take over the Ulster operation. Certainly, an ambush had been set up for Bunny and myself out at Kilwilkie. But at the time we had putit down to Brigade. So I went over all that happened, trying to work it all out. And the more I thought about it, the more lt seemea to revolve around events that had taken place only ten days or so before.

98

99

Colonel B told me that as he saw it, it was'a storm in a teacup'' He knew what a bad time I had had with my father, and then with Fiona herself. The simplest thing to do would be for me to go alon-g with him now. He had phoned Musgrave Park hospital. Thel'genljl-fit me,in on the military wing, for an examination' Naturally I would pass it and could come-back home, where he would make sure the troubles in my marriage were seriously addressed. Eventually I agreedto go. I really had no-other option. My CO was giving me a direct order. I couldn't disobey it but I let him know that I went under protest.

We drove up to Musgrave Park, Colonel B and myself, chatting pleasantly on the journey. We were both armed however, and retained i suitable sense of security. But as we parked outside the military wing, B turned to me and said I should leave my weapon behind - the hospital staffwere not keen on guns being taken into the premises. I obliged, but no sooner had I forsaken my gun than I had a strong premonition thatl had alreadytakenastep into some kindoftrap. And I was not sure how I was going to get out ofit.

After all the dull, rainswept days days in lreland, this was a glorious early summer morning. We disappeared into the hospital. B told me to wait a minute, and went offto consult with one of the doctors. He came back and told me that I could be seen right away. I followed him into an offrce, and there, sitting at the desk, was an ordinary general practitioner - a man with no specifrc psychiatric skills. He said he had spoken with B who had told him what was what, and he asked me if I had anything to say.

Naturally, I had quite a lot to say. My wife was alleging I had threatened her with a gun; the family doctors apparently believed her, and that was why I was there. When, in actual fact, all I had threatened her with was a trip back to Budleigh Salterbon, and a holiday in Canada.

The doctor looked at me bemusedly, then disappeared and came back

five minutes later. He admitted that frankly, the whole business was beyond him, and that I would have to be admitted to the hospital overnight, until they could get someone from the Army psychiatric institution at Netley flown over to examine me' I was astonished, but agreed to see anyone who could help sort the matter out - only it would

serve no purpose whatsoever to have me admitted, since I wanted to get home and sort the business out with my wife before it all went too far, if it hadn't done already. What was more, I wanted to see my children.

Colonel B intervened at that point to tell me that under no circum-

be allowed any of this' I should have to stay in the I complained this was a domestic matter, and it was not the business of the Army to interfere in such a way. B then told me straight: 'I'm not asking you Fred, I'm telling you' You're staying here.'I was equally straight in return: 'Sorr5r, sir' But that's an illegal order. I'm going.' stances could

I

hospital overnight.

I-g-ot up and walked towards the door. Throughout this time, there had been a soldier present in the wing, in combalkit and armed with a

.

rifle. He was ordered to block my-path, and he did so at once. I challenged him. 'Please move out ofmy way. I'm a Captain in the Royal Corps ofTbansport, and I'm givingyou a direct ordei, This Corporal in the Light Infantry then replied, ,Sorry sir, I've been ordered: ify_ou_try to leave, I'll have to restrain you by foice., ,Who gave y_ou that order?'I asked. 'The CO of the hospitai, sir.;I was outt.g"d by this, and steppedtowards the door. The soidier put his weapon icross ,dkay,' I said, ,Okay, I fig.body and took up a challenging stance. believe yoy.' I turned again to speaklo the Colonel.-,fuhat,s going oin?', I asked_. 'I'm not going to stay here. This isn't Russia. tf mi wiie fras made this statement she is obviously mentally ill.'The Colonel said nothing. 'You come with me to see Fiona', I went on, ,sit there and watch what happens. I'm no threat to her.'The Colonel refused. He said it was a medical matter and that as a layman he simply could not interfere. With which he took his leave of me.

- I was g"iven a small room in one ofthe wards there and left to my own devices. I paced up and down continually, wondering how on earth I was going to get out of this mess. Everywhere I went on the ward I was followed. I didn't sleep at all that night. In the dark hours my initial sense of panic and confusion diminished and I had the time to consider just what was happening to me. I went back over all the events of recent months. I was certain, in any ordinary circumstances, my wife's allegations - if indeed they had been made - would have been thoroughly checked out with me personally, before this kind of action had bee-n taken. In effect, I had been put under guard in hospital before I h-ad g-ry chance to defend myself. It simply wasn't the way things should be done.

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed that something stran_ge was going on - something I couldn't, as yet, begin to understand. Those half-joking threats from Brigade; the Briladier's own personal distaste for me; the conflict of loyalties between the Army and the_po_lice, with the Secret Intelligence Service acting independently, and often against their will - it all seemed to point to some kind of conspiracy. But I realized that if I was going to get through this I would have to look at it more rationalll'. I would have to pinpoint exactly how I had laid myself open to this treatment, and whyl should !av-e been targetted. What I wasn't aware of, that night in Musgrave Park, was just how far an altogether different body might have-been r-esponsible. I just didn't know how ruthless MIb were prepared to be in !he!r quest to take over the Ulster operation. Certainly, an ambush had been set up for Bunny and myself out at Kilwilkie. But at the time we had putit down to Brigade. So I went over all that happened, trying to work it all out. And the more I thought about it, the more lt seemea to revolve around events that had taken place only ten days or so before.

101

100

First of all, Craig Smellie had left Ireland, for Athens. He had been replaced by Ian Cameron of MI5. Within a few days I had been summoned to see the new'political officey'. During our interview he told me that he did not want me crossing the border for any reason at this particular time as he was supervising an RUC operation in the Republic and did not want to risk any possible interference. I agreed to stay away until Ihad furtherorders. However, as I lefthisoffrce andwalked

down the corridor, I was called into another offrce by Mqjor Keith Faraes, an SAS officer, working for the intelligence services at Lisburn. He asked me what I thought of Cameron. I said, quite honestly, that I hadn't been very taken with him. Farnes told me that I was not the only one to feel like this: an NCO in the Intelligence Corps who had been running ten different sources in the IRA had seen them all murdered within a few days of MI5 taking over operations. He had gone into a bunker and shot himself in the head. In Farnes'words, 'MI5 leaks like a sieve!'

I had heard of the man's suicide but could barely believe the reasons.

I then told Farnes that Cameron had ordered me not to go south for any reason until I heard otherwise. Farnes asked me ifl wanted to go. I replied that it was quite possible something would come up and then, inihe normal course of things, I would want to go over. He advised me, quite plainly, that if I got the chance, I should cross into the Republic and do whatever was nece"ssary' But instead of telling Cameron, I should report back to him personally' 'We've been warned', said Farnes, 'the Army shouldn't work with these people. So just glve m9 anything you get.'I didn't quite understand what was going on, but-I agi'eed to do ai he said until such time as I could frnd out for myself w-Lat had been happening since the 'political office' had changed hands This meant that I left Lisburn with conflicting orders. In fact, although I had agreed to Farnes'request, once I thought about it, I had no intention of ciossing the border. It seemed altogether to much of a risk. And when Colonel B telephoned me to reiterate Cameron's order, I was sure I had made the right decision. However, I had another call shortly afterwards. Sergeant R told me to get hold of M (the CID offrcer who later became the victim of a booby-trap). M had fixed up a meeting in the south with some very senior officials and was very anxiouJthat I should be able to accompanyhim. I dulycontactedM and he repeated what Sergeant R had told me' I had to tell him about the conflicting orders I had been given at Lisburn. M grew impatient and explained why it was so important I came with him. The meeting wasn't simplywith The Badger in some pub in County Monaghan, but with someone M described as'the top man in the big city down there'.

He said that he had stuck his neck out'to set this up', and if the right people did not go down to Dublin, the whole operation would be jeoparaisea. t thought about this and then agreed to go over - but I could not afford to go as far as Dublin. If the meeting could take place at some

point just across the border, then I felt that this would be a sensible compromise. I might have been disobeying Cameron's order, but I woqld be acting in accord with the wishes of the Army and the police with the least risk to myself.

I then went back to Sgt. I and told him what had happened. We took my car down to the border, with M as our passenger. On the journey I reiterated that I could simply not afford to take the risk ofgoing all the way to Dublin. M seemed happy with this. We drove through Newry, under thB railway bridge and down to the border. At a burnt-out

customs post we stopped in a lane on the right-hand side - no man's land - between the province and the Republic. We turned the car to face the road and got out, with our guns. After a few minutes two black cars came towards us, drove past, then reversed back into the lane. A tall, well-built Garda oflicer got out and walked up to us, grinning.

He took it for granted that we were ready to to accompany him to Dublin. I demuned. M hurriedly consulted with me, telling me once more that I would blow the whole operation if I refused to cooperate.

This was the Deputy Commissioner we were going to see, not some minor offrcer from the backwoods of Monaghan. He had important information he wanted to give us and this marked a vital step in the growing liaison between the two police forces.

I had to concede

- but only on the understanding that

in Ulster that night.

I would be back

M and I got into one of ihe black limousines, drove out onto the main road, and down into Eire. As soon as we were across the border we picked up an Irish Army armoured car escort, which foTlowed us all the way to Dublin. The Garda man took us directly to Phoenix Park. At that time the station was being renovated: So

the square at the front had been ripped up, and a little road channelled in a dog-leg to give access to the main entrance.

We were taken in to see Commissioner Ned Garvey who greetedus with great effusion. We had a long convergation about security matters. I also became embroiled in a discussion with a senior Irish Army oflicer on the prospect of civil war in the country. I retrospect I think I was extremely rude tohim, butthatwas not my intention:lwas simply telling the truth. When asked how I believed such a war would be resolved, I told him that they had saying in the north: they'd be in

Dublin by Friday night and Cork by Monday morning. And I personally thought that was being pessimistic. The UDR would go through the Irish Army like a knife through butter. For Ulstermen were a martial breed, and while the Irish were highly civilized and attractive people, they could hardly be described as the best soldiers in the world. To a civilian this would probably have been quite a compliment: not, however, to senior oflicer. He was furious with me.

Commissioner Garvey, on the other hand, could not stop himself chuckling.

101

100

First of all, Craig Smellie had left Ireland, for Athens. He had been replaced by Ian Cameron of MI5. Within a few days I had been summoned to see the new'political officey'. During our interview he told me that he did not want me crossing the border for any reason at this particular time as he was supervising an RUC operation in the Republic and did not want to risk any possible interference. I agreed to stay away until Ihad furtherorders. However, as I lefthisoffrce andwalked

down the corridor, I was called into another offrce by Mqjor Keith Faraes, an SAS officer, working for the intelligence services at Lisburn. He asked me what I thought of Cameron. I said, quite honestly, that I hadn't been very taken with him. Farnes told me that I was not the only one to feel like this: an NCO in the Intelligence Corps who had been running ten different sources in the IRA had seen them all murdered within a few days of MI5 taking over operations. He had gone into a bunker and shot himself in the head. In Farnes'words, 'MI5 leaks like a sieve!'

I had heard of the man's suicide but could barely believe the reasons.

I then told Farnes that Cameron had ordered me not to go south for any reason until I heard otherwise. Farnes asked me ifl wanted to go. I replied that it was quite possible something would come up and then, inihe normal course of things, I would want to go over. He advised me, quite plainly, that if I got the chance, I should cross into the Republic and do whatever was nece"ssary' But instead of telling Cameron, I should report back to him personally' 'We've been warned', said Farnes, 'the Army shouldn't work with these people. So just glve m9 anything you get.'I didn't quite understand what was going on, but-I agi'eed to do ai he said until such time as I could frnd out for myself w-Lat had been happening since the 'political office' had changed hands This meant that I left Lisburn with conflicting orders. In fact, although I had agreed to Farnes'request, once I thought about it, I had no intention of ciossing the border. It seemed altogether to much of a risk. And when Colonel B telephoned me to reiterate Cameron's order, I was sure I had made the right decision. However, I had another call shortly afterwards. Sergeant R told me to get hold of M (the CID offrcer who later became the victim of a booby-trap). M had fixed up a meeting in the south with some very senior officials and was very anxiouJthat I should be able to accompanyhim. I dulycontactedM and he repeated what Sergeant R had told me' I had to tell him about the conflicting orders I had been given at Lisburn. M grew impatient and explained why it was so important I came with him. The meeting wasn't simplywith The Badger in some pub in County Monaghan, but with someone M described as'the top man in the big city down there'.

He said that he had stuck his neck out'to set this up', and if the right people did not go down to Dublin, the whole operation would be jeoparaisea. t thought about this and then agreed to go over - but I could not afford to go as far as Dublin. If the meeting could take place at some

point just across the border, then I felt that this would be a sensible compromise. I might have been disobeying Cameron's order, but I woqld be acting in accord with the wishes of the Army and the police with the least risk to myself.

I then went back to Sgt. I and told him what had happened. We took my car down to the border, with M as our passenger. On the journey I reiterated that I could simply not afford to take the risk ofgoing all the way to Dublin. M seemed happy with this. We drove through Newry, under thB railway bridge and down to the border. At a burnt-out

customs post we stopped in a lane on the right-hand side - no man's land - between the province and the Republic. We turned the car to face the road and got out, with our guns. After a few minutes two black cars came towards us, drove past, then reversed back into the lane. A tall, well-built Garda oflicer got out and walked up to us, grinning.

He took it for granted that we were ready to to accompany him to Dublin. I demuned. M hurriedly consulted with me, telling me once more that I would blow the whole operation if I refused to cooperate.

This was the Deputy Commissioner we were going to see, not some minor offrcer from the backwoods of Monaghan. He had important information he wanted to give us and this marked a vital step in the growing liaison between the two police forces.

I had to concede

- but only on the understanding that

in Ulster that night.

I would be back

M and I got into one of ihe black limousines, drove out onto the main road, and down into Eire. As soon as we were across the border we picked up an Irish Army armoured car escort, which foTlowed us all the way to Dublin. The Garda man took us directly to Phoenix Park. At that time the station was being renovated: So

the square at the front had been ripped up, and a little road channelled in a dog-leg to give access to the main entrance.

We were taken in to see Commissioner Ned Garvey who greetedus with great effusion. We had a long convergation about security matters. I also became embroiled in a discussion with a senior Irish Army oflicer on the prospect of civil war in the country. I retrospect I think I was extremely rude tohim, butthatwas not my intention:lwas simply telling the truth. When asked how I believed such a war would be resolved, I told him that they had saying in the north: they'd be in

Dublin by Friday night and Cork by Monday morning. And I personally thought that was being pessimistic. The UDR would go through the Irish Army like a knife through butter. For Ulstermen were a martial breed, and while the Irish were highly civilized and attractive people, they could hardly be described as the best soldiers in the world. To a civilian this would probably have been quite a compliment: not, however, to senior oflicer. He was furious with me.

Commissioner Garvey, on the other hand, could not stop himself chuckling.

103

102

when we had finished talking we were taken down to the forensic laboratory in the city - a number of low, single-storey prefabricatedU"iiai"S"l with windlws all round, painted white inside. On a series of unches was a plethora of IRA equipment, all cleaned-up, ,t "tu"""u"a with small white labels attached: bombards, mortars, bomb fins,

detonators and so on. It was the yield from the Donalbate arms factory, the Garda's major coup in recent times.

We were then taken down to the factory itself, some miles from Dublin, and shown all the machinery involved. I was asked to make a of itt" manufacturers so that we could trace it back. It was mostly "ot" English, made in the Midlands. Lastly, we were taken back to Phoenix Fari where Assistant Commissioner Garvey gave us some 150 photographs of individuals involved in the INLA inside the Republic, along of iliit ,r"rn". another details. He also supplied me with a numberhad and_other information that fi"t r.". of the Donalbate machinery, 6elr, specifically requested from the north. The packag-e did-indeed ,epresettt u *oit significant gesture of cooperation on behalf of the Garda, at the higheJt level, and one which might lead one to suppose ihaffh" Sadgeri claims to have real authority for his dealings with us in County Monaghan were not exaggerated.

As we were talking in his oflice, Assistant Commissioner Garvey ''P apologised for the esiort of armoured cars which had picked u: uorder, but said'we have to make sure this thing's tied u-p'.

"6"tt"ortn" rtg aia not mean to imply anf threat from terrorism, but that he had. to 6" *u"y of others on his-own-side, less willingto deal with the security forces in the north. I told him I thought the whole situation was ridiculous, and that I suffered, personally, from mistrust and enmity of *itt it the British system itself. He replied,'we're more frightened our superiors than the terrorists themselves" and went on to point out thatthere was an understandingbetween all ofus involvedintrying,to aui".t terrorisrn that we could have got on a lot better without the interference ofsome ofthose above us.

When we left Phoenix Park, our Garda man and another Garda ofn""t ioof us to a guesthouse near one of the many city- Garda stations. After a meal, on my insistence, M and I were driven back to the border. Sgt. I came down and picked us up. He dropped M offand drove me horie. When I informed Colonel B of what had happened, the next day, he appeared to be delighted with my work. This was not the case, ho-weveriwith the Head of Special Branch, I was told-by M'-Yh"l he hlatd aboui my involvement h-e became very angry and comp-lained to Colonel B thati had no right to have been in the south when I knew that there was a very important operation being set up which t m1g-it! have fouled up. nxactty wtrat this operation entailed I was never told. I do recall, how'ever, that on my visit to the Garda forensic laboratories I noticed an RUC offrcer working undercover - and M warned me to

ignore him. What was apparenlto me-then was that MI5 and Special Ii'ranch were cooperating,without the full knowledge of the Army - or'

at least, that part of it which was still MI6 oriented. When I learned at a later date that the material that was handed over to me had been intended by MI5 to have been given to Captain M (the bomb disposal expert who was being groomed by them to take over my work), I was certain that I had got in their way, and this was used as a reason to replace me.

I appeared to have

crossed both

Mr Cameron and David Johnson

-

two of the most powerful figures in the province. But I had done so, at the behest of M and Sergeant R, on the advice of Major Farnes at Lisburn, andwith the belated approvalofmyownCO, Colonel B. Inthe event, I had behaved with the best intereets of national security as my main concern, and had done another goodjob in the process. I had been

in Ulster for some time now, I had become aware of the internecine

struggles going on between supposed allies in the frght against terrorism, but I was really no wiser as to whom I could really trust, and who I

could not. And the fact that I was being held against my will in Musgrave park only ten days later implied that I had made the wrong choice.

This, then, was my preoccupation on the night I spent in that hos-

pital. There were other, minor, incidents that

paesed through my mind. The Brigadier had been replaced, a couple of months or so before, by a Scotsman from the Highland Light Infantry. He had occasion to ask me to his house not long after he had been installed on the oflicer's married housing estate at Bacombra. It was early afternoon and 'Atkins', having returned from the Mess at Brigade, asked me if I wanted to join him in a drink, and I said I would prefer a glass of milk.

He noted this, I am sure. But he went on, regardless, asking me how things were going out in the field, I was as blunt with him then as I had been with the Irish Army oflicer in Dublin. It rankled with me that, as soon as he had come over, he had had â&#x201A;Ź1500 worth of oneway glass installed, in his own house to protect him from any possible snipers when it was already sunounded by bunkers manned by soldiers. Like the Brigadier before him, he clearly had no intention of ever putting himself at risk in the province. Meanwhile, all the StaffSergeants, the FINCO's and theirwives, hadto make do with quarters downthe road, where there was not even a sentry to protect them - and every day those men went out to face the terrorists in the course of their work. He asked me about the families welfare and morale and I told him that I believed that his own personal extra security measures had affected their morale adversely. Needless to say, he was none too pleased! This did not surprise me, my relations with Brigade had deteriorated so far that I didn't believe that anything I said could make matters worse.

But, once I was in Musgrave Park, incidents like this assumed a different signifrcance! I worried that I had gone too far, that I had ensured that what might simply have remained idle threats had actually been carried out.

)

103

102

when we had finished talking we were taken down to the forensic laboratory in the city - a number of low, single-storey prefabricatedU"iiai"S"l with windlws all round, painted white inside. On a series of unches was a plethora of IRA equipment, all cleaned-up, ,t "tu"""u"a with small white labels attached: bombards, mortars, bomb fins,

detonators and so on. It was the yield from the Donalbate arms factory, the Garda's major coup in recent times.

We were then taken down to the factory itself, some miles from Dublin, and shown all the machinery involved. I was asked to make a of itt" manufacturers so that we could trace it back. It was mostly "ot" English, made in the Midlands. Lastly, we were taken back to Phoenix Fari where Assistant Commissioner Garvey gave us some 150 photographs of individuals involved in the INLA inside the Republic, along of iliit ,r"rn". another details. He also supplied me with a numberhad and_other information that fi"t r.". of the Donalbate machinery, 6elr, specifically requested from the north. The packag-e did-indeed ,epresettt u *oit significant gesture of cooperation on behalf of the Garda, at the higheJt level, and one which might lead one to suppose ihaffh" Sadgeri claims to have real authority for his dealings with us in County Monaghan were not exaggerated.

As we were talking in his oflice, Assistant Commissioner Garvey ''P apologised for the esiort of armoured cars which had picked u: uorder, but said'we have to make sure this thing's tied u-p'.

"6"tt"ortn" rtg aia not mean to imply anf threat from terrorism, but that he had. to 6" *u"y of others on his-own-side, less willingto deal with the security forces in the north. I told him I thought the whole situation was ridiculous, and that I suffered, personally, from mistrust and enmity of *itt it the British system itself. He replied,'we're more frightened our superiors than the terrorists themselves" and went on to point out thatthere was an understandingbetween all ofus involvedintrying,to aui".t terrorisrn that we could have got on a lot better without the interference ofsome ofthose above us.

When we left Phoenix Park, our Garda man and another Garda ofn""t ioof us to a guesthouse near one of the many city- Garda stations. After a meal, on my insistence, M and I were driven back to the border. Sgt. I came down and picked us up. He dropped M offand drove me horie. When I informed Colonel B of what had happened, the next day, he appeared to be delighted with my work. This was not the case, ho-weveriwith the Head of Special Branch, I was told-by M'-Yh"l he hlatd aboui my involvement h-e became very angry and comp-lained to Colonel B thati had no right to have been in the south when I knew that there was a very important operation being set up which t m1g-it! have fouled up. nxactty wtrat this operation entailed I was never told. I do recall, how'ever, that on my visit to the Garda forensic laboratories I noticed an RUC offrcer working undercover - and M warned me to

ignore him. What was apparenlto me-then was that MI5 and Special Ii'ranch were cooperating,without the full knowledge of the Army - or'

at least, that part of it which was still MI6 oriented. When I learned at a later date that the material that was handed over to me had been intended by MI5 to have been given to Captain M (the bomb disposal expert who was being groomed by them to take over my work), I was certain that I had got in their way, and this was used as a reason to replace me.

I appeared to have

crossed both

Mr Cameron and David Johnson

-

two of the most powerful figures in the province. But I had done so, at the behest of M and Sergeant R, on the advice of Major Farnes at Lisburn, andwith the belated approvalofmyownCO, Colonel B. Inthe event, I had behaved with the best intereets of national security as my main concern, and had done another goodjob in the process. I had been

in Ulster for some time now, I had become aware of the internecine

struggles going on between supposed allies in the frght against terrorism, but I was really no wiser as to whom I could really trust, and who I

could not. And the fact that I was being held against my will in Musgrave park only ten days later implied that I had made the wrong choice.

This, then, was my preoccupation on the night I spent in that hos-

pital. There were other, minor, incidents that

paesed through my mind. The Brigadier had been replaced, a couple of months or so before, by a Scotsman from the Highland Light Infantry. He had occasion to ask me to his house not long after he had been installed on the oflicer's married housing estate at Bacombra. It was early afternoon and 'Atkins', having returned from the Mess at Brigade, asked me if I wanted to join him in a drink, and I said I would prefer a glass of milk.

He noted this, I am sure. But he went on, regardless, asking me how things were going out in the field, I was as blunt with him then as I had been with the Irish Army oflicer in Dublin. It rankled with me that, as soon as he had come over, he had had â&#x201A;Ź1500 worth of oneway glass installed, in his own house to protect him from any possible snipers when it was already sunounded by bunkers manned by soldiers. Like the Brigadier before him, he clearly had no intention of ever putting himself at risk in the province. Meanwhile, all the StaffSergeants, the FINCO's and theirwives, hadto make do with quarters downthe road, where there was not even a sentry to protect them - and every day those men went out to face the terrorists in the course of their work. He asked me about the families welfare and morale and I told him that I believed that his own personal extra security measures had affected their morale adversely. Needless to say, he was none too pleased! This did not surprise me, my relations with Brigade had deteriorated so far that I didn't believe that anything I said could make matters worse.

But, once I was in Musgrave Park, incidents like this assumed a different signifrcance! I worried that I had gone too far, that I had ensured that what might simply have remained idle threats had actually been carried out.

)

104

By the morning I was at least aware that what I was facing wasn't simply Fiona and her alleged accusations' I had more of a fight on my hands than that.

About 11.30, Colonel B arrived to see me' I went into the same offrce as I had the previous morning. For the first time I was introduced to a psychiatrist, Captain Cantlay of the RAMC' Throughout thefive minute interview, Colonel B remained silent. I put up a spirited defence of

myself, until the momentwhen the doctor told me that, no matterwhat to to Netley. The moment I heard the word, it sent a shiver through me. For as any serving soldier knows, Netley is not an institution where someone is sent for some minor problems. It is a mental hospital for seriously ill patients. In the Army, if one ever wanted to tease someone' or ridicule them, 'Come on, or we'll send you to Netley', was a common way of doing it. It was where the'nutters'went, as simple as that.

I protested vigorously. I said I would submit myself for an examination anywhere in Ulster, even a civilian clinic if needs be, but I refused to be transport€d to Netley. For even if it was only a single day spent there, it would always be on my records, and would be enough to ruin my career. I was told that I was being ridiculous - it was a purely medical matter, and would have no bearing on my career. There could be no argument: I was being sent to Netley. I refused to be budged. I would no1 go. The Colonel of the hospital was sent for. He spoke briefly with Colonel B then turned to me.

'Captain Holroyd,'he said,'I am giving you a direct order' You will stay in my custody at this hospital and you will do as you are ordered, or I can assure you, you will be court-martialled.'

I again refused to go to Netley - I had had enough of this now. But I was told, quite plainly, that if I did not cooperate, I would be strapped to a stretchei and transported to England under restraint. I simply could not believe what I was hearing. And now I became quite frightened. I sat down with my head in my hands. Colonel B then told me he would make sure I had some clothes and personal effects sent to the hospital, and left.

The one part of this whole affair that I remember without bitterness and pain is the journey from Musgrave Park to the airport. In norrnal circumstances the driver would have been an RCT Driver, to whom I would have had nothing to say. I would have been put in the back of the field ambulance that would have been that. But, owing to a lack ofstaff on the particular evening of my departure Staff Sergeant D, who was in charge ofthe transport units detail offrce arrived at the hospital, to transport myself and other patients to the aircraft waiting to take us to England.

The moment he saw me, he asked, 'What are you doing here?' I told him he was going to take me to the airport with the others, since I was

I iaid, my condition was such that they did not have the facilities deal with me there, and I would have to be sent back to England,

105

about to be casevaced to Netley. Pat refused to believe it. But he soon got his orders. Instead of putting me in the back, he asked me to ride with him in the cab, and explain just what had happened to me. I had seen S/Sgt. D only a fortnight or so before, when I had collected a new Q car. I had told him about Fiona, and how I felt I would have to send her home. He brought this up again now, and asked me why no one had made any real effort to check things out. I told him my suspicions. D realized he could do nothing for me then. But he promised that, if I ever needed some support, I could contact him without hesitation. In fact, he later wrote a letter, for which I will always be grateful, where he stated that, as far as he was concerned, I was the same man he had known in Germany for many years, and more recently in Ulster, and any allegations of mental instability were unfounded. But of course, S/Sgt. D was merely an honest, plain-speaking SNCO. His opinion would never count for much in a situation such as this.

We said goodbye, and I took my last look,for the time being, at the battlefreld of Ulster. On the casualty evacuation aircraft, I took my place with the six or seven others being sent home. I heard the stewardess, a female StaffSergeant, say quite audibly that I was dangerous. I might have to be restrained. I asked her who exactly had told her this but she refused to say. I didn't know at the time that, after my first encounter with the RAMC registrar, Colonel B had gone back to my wife and told her that I was issuing threats against her, and might well try to attack her ifl was given the chance, so that the best thing she could do was move out ofour home with the children, and stay with the Brigade-Mqjor and his wife until such time as I was safely out of the country. I only knew that I was sitting in an airplane, taking offout of Ulster, with a reputation as a dangerous individual who might have to be restrained. Ifmy entrance into the province had been arranged with as much skill and care as my exit, one might conclude that the Army showed the same interest in its active members as those it needed to get rid of. But such was not the case. The journey to Netley was perfectly stage managed. The only trouble was, I didn't want the part' It cost me everything I had achieved in my Army career.

104

By the morning I was at least aware that what I was facing wasn't simply Fiona and her alleged accusations' I had more of a fight on my hands than that.

About 11.30, Colonel B arrived to see me' I went into the same offrce as I had the previous morning. For the first time I was introduced to a psychiatrist, Captain Cantlay of the RAMC' Throughout thefive minute interview, Colonel B remained silent. I put up a spirited defence of

myself, until the momentwhen the doctor told me that, no matterwhat to to Netley. The moment I heard the word, it sent a shiver through me. For as any serving soldier knows, Netley is not an institution where someone is sent for some minor problems. It is a mental hospital for seriously ill patients. In the Army, if one ever wanted to tease someone' or ridicule them, 'Come on, or we'll send you to Netley', was a common way of doing it. It was where the'nutters'went, as simple as that.

I protested vigorously. I said I would submit myself for an examination anywhere in Ulster, even a civilian clinic if needs be, but I refused to be transport€d to Netley. For even if it was only a single day spent there, it would always be on my records, and would be enough to ruin my career. I was told that I was being ridiculous - it was a purely medical matter, and would have no bearing on my career. There could be no argument: I was being sent to Netley. I refused to be budged. I would no1 go. The Colonel of the hospital was sent for. He spoke briefly with Colonel B then turned to me.

'Captain Holroyd,'he said,'I am giving you a direct order' You will stay in my custody at this hospital and you will do as you are ordered, or I can assure you, you will be court-martialled.'

I again refused to go to Netley - I had had enough of this now. But I was told, quite plainly, that if I did not cooperate, I would be strapped to a stretchei and transported to England under restraint. I simply could not believe what I was hearing. And now I became quite frightened. I sat down with my head in my hands. Colonel B then told me he would make sure I had some clothes and personal effects sent to the hospital, and left.

The one part of this whole affair that I remember without bitterness and pain is the journey from Musgrave Park to the airport. In norrnal circumstances the driver would have been an RCT Driver, to whom I would have had nothing to say. I would have been put in the back of the field ambulance that would have been that. But, owing to a lack ofstaff on the particular evening of my departure Staff Sergeant D, who was in charge ofthe transport units detail offrce arrived at the hospital, to transport myself and other patients to the aircraft waiting to take us to England.

The moment he saw me, he asked, 'What are you doing here?' I told him he was going to take me to the airport with the others, since I was

I iaid, my condition was such that they did not have the facilities deal with me there, and I would have to be sent back to England,

105

about to be casevaced to Netley. Pat refused to believe it. But he soon got his orders. Instead of putting me in the back, he asked me to ride with him in the cab, and explain just what had happened to me. I had seen S/Sgt. D only a fortnight or so before, when I had collected a new Q car. I had told him about Fiona, and how I felt I would have to send her home. He brought this up again now, and asked me why no one had made any real effort to check things out. I told him my suspicions. D realized he could do nothing for me then. But he promised that, if I ever needed some support, I could contact him without hesitation. In fact, he later wrote a letter, for which I will always be grateful, where he stated that, as far as he was concerned, I was the same man he had known in Germany for many years, and more recently in Ulster, and any allegations of mental instability were unfounded. But of course, S/Sgt. D was merely an honest, plain-speaking SNCO. His opinion would never count for much in a situation such as this.

We said goodbye, and I took my last look,for the time being, at the battlefreld of Ulster. On the casualty evacuation aircraft, I took my place with the six or seven others being sent home. I heard the stewardess, a female StaffSergeant, say quite audibly that I was dangerous. I might have to be restrained. I asked her who exactly had told her this but she refused to say. I didn't know at the time that, after my first encounter with the RAMC registrar, Colonel B had gone back to my wife and told her that I was issuing threats against her, and might well try to attack her ifl was given the chance, so that the best thing she could do was move out ofour home with the children, and stay with the Brigade-Mqjor and his wife until such time as I was safely out of the country. I only knew that I was sitting in an airplane, taking offout of Ulster, with a reputation as a dangerous individual who might have to be restrained. Ifmy entrance into the province had been arranged with as much skill and care as my exit, one might conclude that the Army showed the same interest in its active members as those it needed to get rid of. But such was not the case. The journey to Netley was perfectly stage managed. The only trouble was, I didn't want the part' It cost me everything I had achieved in my Army career.

107

7

POLITICAL PSYCHIATRY The first thing that struck me about the Army psychiatric hospi+,alat Netley was the peaceful silence hangrng over the buildings and lhe grounds. It is a-large complex set in a country park - the perfect 6nvironment for those genuinely sick to rest in, and recuperate' For me, arriving on that first night late in May 1975, it was pure hell' I was given a bed on an upstairs ward and told to try to get some sleep.

It was a futile instruction. Eventually, I went to the StaffSergeant on duty in desperation, since this was the second night running that I had been left-trying to deal with my anger and indignation. The Sergeant offered me d Mogadon. I'took a quarter of a pill, and it knocked me out.

I woke up at about eleven, and went downstairs to the Offrcers' Wing'

There I was introduced to the 'senior' patient there, an lrish Lieutenant frrom the Royal Navy, who was suffering from manic de-

pression.

He said simply, 'We're encouraged to run ourselves here. You -do your own stuff. They call for you if they want to check you. You're not meant to leave the grounds. Any problems, come and see me.'

I sat rpund for the next three days in a kind ofdaze, drinking endless cups of tea and coffee, refusing to believe what had happened to me' Eventually the Navy man took me aside, with a knowing smile' 'There's nothing wrong with you, is there?' he said. I asked him what he meant. 'You'reiwinging the lead here, you're trying to get a rest, i9 that it?'I began to dCny it, hoping he would give me'the chance to tell him my sto*. He then explained what had made him say this. There

were tLirty br so armchairs in the Mess; the daily papers rn'ere left lying on tibles. He had been there eighteen months, and without e*celtiott, every newcomer had walked in on his first morning, picked up a paper, and gone to a specifrc chair in the corner, saying nothing to anyohe, but burying himself behind his newspapel. When I had come

in, t trad walked into the middle of the room, said'Good morning'to everyone, and sat down where I was, with the morning's news on my lap. The Lieutenant had immediately noticed that, and drawn his own conclusions. As a matter of fact, throughout the month I was in Netley, the newcomers did exactly as he said. During that time, I explained to

him what had been done to me, as far as I understood it, andhe, like so many others in the hospital, told me there could be no doubt that I had been 'shafbed'. I did not belong there. It was as simple as that.

During those first three days I was never summoned to see a doctor.

And no--one in a position of authority would answer 1ny questions. In the end I sat down with the StaffSergeant on the ward and forced him to listen to my story. I told him how worried I was about my wife's state of mind, and the welfare of my children. This seemed to strike a chord in him, and eventually, he, too, came to admit that I was not in any way mentally ill, and in his words, I w4s there for 'political reasons'. He recalled how the Colonel in charge ofthe Paraswhohadopenedupon a

crowd in Londonderry in the incident that became known as Bloody Sunday, was brought in immediately afterwards, so that if it became necessary, a plea of instability could be used to defend him. My situation was clearly very different, but the same methods had been employed.

Subsequently I was contacted by a former gunner officer who had been tasked to calibrate 25 pounder gunsjust prior to the Suez opera-

tion. On the completion of his task he was forcibly incarcerated at Netley in order to isolate him and preserve the secret ofthe forthcoming secret invasion of Egypt. Although, like me, he understands the need for strict security and secrecy in some military operations, his Army career was ruined by those two weeks he spent in a mental hospital which were forever recorded on his military record. I can only wonder how many other innocent offrcers and soldiers have been held in Netley for political reasons, and how many lives have unnecessarily been blighted by the abuse ofpsychiatry in the forces. It is not widely appreciated that military doctors are not bound by the normal medical code of ethics in this country.

I didn't discover until after I had left the hospital that all the relevant members of staff had been ordered to question me closely, to ascertain my frame of mind. However, when it came to my first formal interview with a psychiatrist, I was quite astonished at the course of events. I was hauled in to see Colonel D.C.V.Stewart, RAMC, the commanding officer at Netley at the time. He asked me what I thought was happening to me. I told him I thought my own Colonel had let me down badly, something was seriously wrong, and I could only assume that I was the victim of some kind of set-up. The very next question Stewart asked me was this: 'What were you doing in Dublin when you were ordered not to go?'

My mouth hung open like a stunned mullet's. One of the last things Colonel B had said when I left Ireland was that under no circumstances, as a Military Intelligence Officer who had been working with such highly sensitive material, should I talk to anyone inNetley about my work there. I should cooperate on the medical side, but reveal nothing about the various operations I had been involved in. But here

)

107

7

POLITICAL PSYCHIATRY The first thing that struck me about the Army psychiatric hospi+,alat Netley was the peaceful silence hangrng over the buildings and lhe grounds. It is a-large complex set in a country park - the perfect 6nvironment for those genuinely sick to rest in, and recuperate' For me, arriving on that first night late in May 1975, it was pure hell' I was given a bed on an upstairs ward and told to try to get some sleep.

It was a futile instruction. Eventually, I went to the StaffSergeant on duty in desperation, since this was the second night running that I had been left-trying to deal with my anger and indignation. The Sergeant offered me d Mogadon. I'took a quarter of a pill, and it knocked me out.

I woke up at about eleven, and went downstairs to the Offrcers' Wing'

There I was introduced to the 'senior' patient there, an lrish Lieutenant frrom the Royal Navy, who was suffering from manic de-

pression.

He said simply, 'We're encouraged to run ourselves here. You -do your own stuff. They call for you if they want to check you. You're not meant to leave the grounds. Any problems, come and see me.'

I sat rpund for the next three days in a kind ofdaze, drinking endless cups of tea and coffee, refusing to believe what had happened to me' Eventually the Navy man took me aside, with a knowing smile' 'There's nothing wrong with you, is there?' he said. I asked him what he meant. 'You'reiwinging the lead here, you're trying to get a rest, i9 that it?'I began to dCny it, hoping he would give me'the chance to tell him my sto*. He then explained what had made him say this. There

were tLirty br so armchairs in the Mess; the daily papers rn'ere left lying on tibles. He had been there eighteen months, and without e*celtiott, every newcomer had walked in on his first morning, picked up a paper, and gone to a specifrc chair in the corner, saying nothing to anyohe, but burying himself behind his newspapel. When I had come

in, t trad walked into the middle of the room, said'Good morning'to everyone, and sat down where I was, with the morning's news on my lap. The Lieutenant had immediately noticed that, and drawn his own conclusions. As a matter of fact, throughout the month I was in Netley, the newcomers did exactly as he said. During that time, I explained to

him what had been done to me, as far as I understood it, andhe, like so many others in the hospital, told me there could be no doubt that I had been 'shafbed'. I did not belong there. It was as simple as that.

During those first three days I was never summoned to see a doctor.

And no--one in a position of authority would answer 1ny questions. In the end I sat down with the StaffSergeant on the ward and forced him to listen to my story. I told him how worried I was about my wife's state of mind, and the welfare of my children. This seemed to strike a chord in him, and eventually, he, too, came to admit that I was not in any way mentally ill, and in his words, I w4s there for 'political reasons'. He recalled how the Colonel in charge ofthe Paraswhohadopenedupon a

crowd in Londonderry in the incident that became known as Bloody Sunday, was brought in immediately afterwards, so that if it became necessary, a plea of instability could be used to defend him. My situation was clearly very different, but the same methods had been employed.

Subsequently I was contacted by a former gunner officer who had been tasked to calibrate 25 pounder gunsjust prior to the Suez opera-

tion. On the completion of his task he was forcibly incarcerated at Netley in order to isolate him and preserve the secret ofthe forthcoming secret invasion of Egypt. Although, like me, he understands the need for strict security and secrecy in some military operations, his Army career was ruined by those two weeks he spent in a mental hospital which were forever recorded on his military record. I can only wonder how many other innocent offrcers and soldiers have been held in Netley for political reasons, and how many lives have unnecessarily been blighted by the abuse ofpsychiatry in the forces. It is not widely appreciated that military doctors are not bound by the normal medical code of ethics in this country.

I didn't discover until after I had left the hospital that all the relevant members of staff had been ordered to question me closely, to ascertain my frame of mind. However, when it came to my first formal interview with a psychiatrist, I was quite astonished at the course of events. I was hauled in to see Colonel D.C.V.Stewart, RAMC, the commanding officer at Netley at the time. He asked me what I thought was happening to me. I told him I thought my own Colonel had let me down badly, something was seriously wrong, and I could only assume that I was the victim of some kind of set-up. The very next question Stewart asked me was this: 'What were you doing in Dublin when you were ordered not to go?'

My mouth hung open like a stunned mullet's. One of the last things Colonel B had said when I left Ireland was that under no circumstances, as a Military Intelligence Officer who had been working with such highly sensitive material, should I talk to anyone inNetley about my work there. I should cooperate on the medical side, but reveal nothing about the various operations I had been involved in. But here

)

108

was the Colonel of the hospital questioning me on a top secret mission of which he should have known nothing. I asked him who had informed him of the Dublin trip, whether he had clearance to listen to what I might say. He refused to tell me. I then replied that I could say nothing to himunless Colonel B gave mepermission. However, Iwould saythat I did not go illegally. I might have disobeyed one request and one order not to go, but I also had authority to make the visit. It was, in a sense, a matter of who gave me the last order.

(Much later on I learned that it was in fact my CO himself who had given Lt Col Stewart this information, as he was the only one privy to it

at the time. He also wrote a confrdential report at the time of this interview in which he claimed I had disobeyed an order.)

There was nothing I could do, until whoever had wanted me there was prepared to let me out again. I began to settle, reluctantly, into some kind of routine. I was allowed to go swimming in Southampton where I lost my contact lenses in the pool, to add to my sense of disorientation! I went on walks through the grounds under the hot June sun that shone almost every day of my stay there. Each day I would walk a little further, dressed only in a pair of shorts and flip flops. No one called me back. In the end I walked all the way to nearby Hamble village and back without being challenged - a ten mile round trip. So I asked for some running shoes and ran the distance instead, every day, until I was bronzed ahd trim. If they were going to keep me in Netley, I was going to make damned sure I did not waste my time there. I began keeping a comprehensive diary of everything that happened, on the advice of a RCT Major who befriended me, so that I would not be at a disadvantage when I later pressed my case for redress.

Meanwhile, I played croquet with the Naval Officer and visited a local pub with a young Cavalry officer who was a fellow patient. The rule that I was not allowed out of the grounds was not enforced. And on one occasion, in a Hamble bar, I actually caught the eye of Major Brown, the medical officer handling my case, as he sat drinking with his wife, and not a word was said.

I was treated in the most bizarre fashion. I recbived no medical treatment of any kind whatsoever. I completed all the tests I was required to do. These fell under the strict Army category known as PULHEEMS, designed as a comprehensive assessment of both physical and mental health. I passed them all without any problem and was shown the results. And yet, I was refused any weekends away from Netley despite the fact that many of the serious cases in the hospital were offered this facility. I was also refused access to a telephone, and officially a typewriter, on the occasion I demanded it. This odd mix of apparently diligent security and utterly lax practices could only remind me of Ashford; only now I was not in any mood to see the lighter side ofthings.

109

I regret that, for the psychological tests run by Mqjor Brown RAMC are quite amusing in retrospect. Quite why, if I decided a certain ink blot resembled a furry caterpillar, which many ink blots do, it should have a bearing on my stability I do not understand, nor that I found the shape of a lighthouse more attractive than a banana. If I had been submitting myself for some kind of sexual therapy, then perhaps so.

Nevertheless I was relieved when I was told thatin terms of physical capacity, Upper Limbs, Iocomotion, Hearing, Eyesight, Mental capacity and Emotional Stability, I was in perfect shape. The inevitible guestions recurred then: what was I doing there, and how long would it be before I got out? The answers were not long in coming.

During my second week at Netley, I received a visit from Mqjor S of 12 Intelligence and Security Coy. - one ofthe first oflicers I had spoken to on my arrival in Ireland, and the first offrcer from the province to come to see me here. It seemed that he wanted to be very helpful. He promised to investigate my allegations and come back to me aJ soon as he could. I never heard from him again. In fact, I later discovered that Mqjor S had tried to prevent me contacting colleagues from Ulster. I was desperate at the time to speak to Sgt. I who wae serving as an NCO, Intelligence Corps, at Colchester. I had a short interview with him. Immediately afterwards, Major S got hold of Set. I and warned him to have no more contact with me.

All I received from Major S in Netley, after his visit, was a verbal message, through one of the Staff Sergeants, that he was 'awfully sorry', but he had been told he should have nothing more to do with my case. I was dumbfounded, angrier than ever.

When Colonel B himself arrived a few days later, this anger finally took shape, and it was then that I really became determined I should not rest until I had found out exactly what had happened to me, and who had been responsible. was just after lunch - an orderly came into the Mess and told me my Colonel was outside in the garden, and wanted to see me. When I went out, B led me away from the building and all the other patients, to a bench exposed to the strong, hot sun. He had a brown paper bag with him; in it were two bars of melting chocolate, and a couple of paperback books. He immediately said how sorry he was for everything that had happened, and what a disaster it had all been. He asked me what had happened while I had been at Netley. I told him, adding that I thought it was scandalous treatment, and I demanded some eiplanation. B, like S before him, seemed very reasonable and concerned. He said that he understood now that Fiona was suffering from severe stress, and her word could not be trusted; in effect, her allegations against me were false. I sighed with relief. He went on to tell me that I would be got out of Netley right away. They wanted to bring Fiona back to England with the children and put her into a quarter at Wilton.

She could attend Netley for treatment as a day-patient. Meanwhile, I_t

108

was the Colonel of the hospital questioning me on a top secret mission of which he should have known nothing. I asked him who had informed him of the Dublin trip, whether he had clearance to listen to what I might say. He refused to tell me. I then replied that I could say nothing to himunless Colonel B gave mepermission. However, Iwould saythat I did not go illegally. I might have disobeyed one request and one order not to go, but I also had authority to make the visit. It was, in a sense, a matter of who gave me the last order.

(Much later on I learned that it was in fact my CO himself who had given Lt Col Stewart this information, as he was the only one privy to it

at the time. He also wrote a confrdential report at the time of this interview in which he claimed I had disobeyed an order.)

There was nothing I could do, until whoever had wanted me there was prepared to let me out again. I began to settle, reluctantly, into some kind of routine. I was allowed to go swimming in Southampton where I lost my contact lenses in the pool, to add to my sense of disorientation! I went on walks through the grounds under the hot June sun that shone almost every day of my stay there. Each day I would walk a little further, dressed only in a pair of shorts and flip flops. No one called me back. In the end I walked all the way to nearby Hamble village and back without being challenged - a ten mile round trip. So I asked for some running shoes and ran the distance instead, every day, until I was bronzed ahd trim. If they were going to keep me in Netley, I was going to make damned sure I did not waste my time there. I began keeping a comprehensive diary of everything that happened, on the advice of a RCT Major who befriended me, so that I would not be at a disadvantage when I later pressed my case for redress.

Meanwhile, I played croquet with the Naval Officer and visited a local pub with a young Cavalry officer who was a fellow patient. The rule that I was not allowed out of the grounds was not enforced. And on one occasion, in a Hamble bar, I actually caught the eye of Major Brown, the medical officer handling my case, as he sat drinking with his wife, and not a word was said.

I was treated in the most bizarre fashion. I recbived no medical treatment of any kind whatsoever. I completed all the tests I was required to do. These fell under the strict Army category known as PULHEEMS, designed as a comprehensive assessment of both physical and mental health. I passed them all without any problem and was shown the results. And yet, I was refused any weekends away from Netley despite the fact that many of the serious cases in the hospital were offered this facility. I was also refused access to a telephone, and officially a typewriter, on the occasion I demanded it. This odd mix of apparently diligent security and utterly lax practices could only remind me of Ashford; only now I was not in any mood to see the lighter side ofthings.

109

I regret that, for the psychological tests run by Mqjor Brown RAMC are quite amusing in retrospect. Quite why, if I decided a certain ink blot resembled a furry caterpillar, which many ink blots do, it should have a bearing on my stability I do not understand, nor that I found the shape of a lighthouse more attractive than a banana. If I had been submitting myself for some kind of sexual therapy, then perhaps so.

Nevertheless I was relieved when I was told thatin terms of physical capacity, Upper Limbs, Iocomotion, Hearing, Eyesight, Mental capacity and Emotional Stability, I was in perfect shape. The inevitible guestions recurred then: what was I doing there, and how long would it be before I got out? The answers were not long in coming.

During my second week at Netley, I received a visit from Mqjor S of 12 Intelligence and Security Coy. - one ofthe first oflicers I had spoken to on my arrival in Ireland, and the first offrcer from the province to come to see me here. It seemed that he wanted to be very helpful. He promised to investigate my allegations and come back to me aJ soon as he could. I never heard from him again. In fact, I later discovered that Mqjor S had tried to prevent me contacting colleagues from Ulster. I was desperate at the time to speak to Sgt. I who wae serving as an NCO, Intelligence Corps, at Colchester. I had a short interview with him. Immediately afterwards, Major S got hold of Set. I and warned him to have no more contact with me.

All I received from Major S in Netley, after his visit, was a verbal message, through one of the Staff Sergeants, that he was 'awfully sorry', but he had been told he should have nothing more to do with my case. I was dumbfounded, angrier than ever.

When Colonel B himself arrived a few days later, this anger finally took shape, and it was then that I really became determined I should not rest until I had found out exactly what had happened to me, and who had been responsible. was just after lunch - an orderly came into the Mess and told me my Colonel was outside in the garden, and wanted to see me. When I went out, B led me away from the building and all the other patients, to a bench exposed to the strong, hot sun. He had a brown paper bag with him; in it were two bars of melting chocolate, and a couple of paperback books. He immediately said how sorry he was for everything that had happened, and what a disaster it had all been. He asked me what had happened while I had been at Netley. I told him, adding that I thought it was scandalous treatment, and I demanded some eiplanation. B, like S before him, seemed very reasonable and concerned. He said that he understood now that Fiona was suffering from severe stress, and her word could not be trusted; in effect, her allegations against me were false. I sighed with relief. He went on to tell me that I would be got out of Netley right away. They wanted to bring Fiona back to England with the children and put her into a quarter at Wilton.

She could attend Netley for treatment as a day-patient. Meanwhile, I_t

110

it all, a posting to the Ca:ribean apparently. I should have a good time for three months, get over everything, and come back to my wife suitably treated, and ready for reconciliation. I could then return to my own Corps and continue with my career. I explained to B that this plan was a non-starter. (The irony did not escape me that, had it not been for his actions, I would at that very moment have been on a month's leave in Canada, trying to rebuild my family). If my wife had behaved as he had described how could I possibly commit myself again to our marriage? I simply couldn't trust her any more. There was no telling what she might allege against me next time the strain proved too much for her. B then uttered the words I will never forget: 'Fred, you do what we say and you'll be laughing all the way to the bank. The RUC have put you up for a MBE for gallantry. And I've recommended it to go forward. But ifyou fight us now, we'll crush you.'

That was the moment when I knew what I was up against, when B revealed his true colours. I reacted furiously. I said I wanted an inquiry, and as soon as I got out of Netley I was going to the Army Board to put in an appeal and set the wheels in motion. I could see no option

the best thing for me was to get right out of

but to divorce Fiona. I repeated once more, 'Sir, this isn't Soviet Russia.

You don't do this to an.officer in the British Army. If it takes me the rest of my life I'll get to the bottom of this.'

For many years I was toldthat my medical downgrading at Netley was dated on the day following B's visit. This was a lie. After recent questions asked on the matter in the House of Commons, the Army have admitted that I was medically downgraded, in my absence, by a Medical Board consisting of Lt. Col. Stewart, Captain Cantley, RAMC and a Medical Officer from the Navy named Hyles (whose sole contact with me, was a brief introduction whilst I was using the phone, at Netley). This medical downgrading served as an o{ficial statement that my transfer to the hospital had not been a mistake, since the regulai Board, ignoring its own rules ofprocedure, declared me to be 'occupationally maladjusted' and'environmentally disorientated'.

From that point on it was inevitable that I would not return to Ireland.

Those who wanted me out for good had got their way' The day after B's visit, Fiona was brought to Netley. I could barely look at her after what I had been put through, thanks to her behaviour on the morning after our frnal row at Bacombra. She went into Colonel Stewart's o{Iice on her own. After half an hour, I was called in. Fiona made a single false allegation about our domestic life, in my presence. I listened in silence, and when she had finished, said to the Colonel that I was not prepared to put up with this nonsense any longer. I had nothing else to add. IfFiona had been brought over to England by the Army, then she was now the concern of the Army. I intended to do what I had told Colonel B I believed was the right course ofaction. Fiona then left the hospital, we had acted almost like strangers neither seeming to know quite how we had come to this extraordinary situa-

111

tion, nor when or where we would next meet, only that things had got wildly out of hand, and it was far too late to try to undo them.

My last visitor at Netley was the Head of Army Psychiatry, General McGhie, RAMC. I had a halfhour session with him in which I toldhim I thought the whole business had been setup, andthatmywife hadbeen lrsed by those responsible. He, too, promised to investigate. McGhie, at

least, came back to me. But the news was not good. He simply told me I would have 'to put up with it'. He was sorry, he had visited Whitihall and been told I was'a political hot potato'. Nobody would touch my case. In years to come he would deny he ever said this. But, from my contacts in relevant positions, I know that he spent a considerable time trying to get someone to address my grievances in London, without success. The reason he gave me I believe was true.

I tendered my resignation from SMIU Northern Ireland, and the Army proper, while I was still in Netley. The response was very clever.

My resignation from SMIU was accepted - but not from Army, since I was a resident of an Army mental hospital, and therefore not in a position to resign. There was no consistency in this answer. But there was nothing I could do to change it. I was sent to Netley to remove me from Ulster. Unwittingly, my resignation from SMIU simply completed this aim.

However, I had only a short time left in the hospital now. Since my wife and children had kien successfully moved to England, I had givln up my job and been medically downgraded, there was no reason to keep me there much longer. I only discoverd later that Fiona had been told

by Colonel B that she would be coming back to England with our children before I had even had my initial medical interview at the hospital. One can only ask how he know this at the time.

I made one last gesture of defiance at Netley. I knew I had passed my tests. I asked Major Brown, the officer who had run them, why I could not be released immediately. He replied that he wasn't personally responsible for my case. It was under Secure classification and therefore the responsibility of Colonel Stewart. I then demanded an interview with the Colonel. This I was granted. I asked Stewart the same questions. But he said he was not prepared to discuss them with me. I then formally requested an independent second opinion, and stated that it would have to be from a doctor of my own choice, as the rules dictated. But Stewart ignored the rules. He offered me a list of three doctors, all with the required security clearance. I refused to choose one. I told Stewart that they would simply be carrying out whatever medical orders he gave them - they were not independent in any sense of the word. Again I demanded a doctor of my own choice. And again he refused.

Stewart told me quite plainly that I would never be going back to Ireland. Ever since I had come to Netley, I had kept my long hair and beard, the disguise I had worn in South Armagh, lrusting that sooner

110

it all, a posting to the Ca:ribean apparently. I should have a good time for three months, get over everything, and come back to my wife suitably treated, and ready for reconciliation. I could then return to my own Corps and continue with my career. I explained to B that this plan was a non-starter. (The irony did not escape me that, had it not been for his actions, I would at that very moment have been on a month's leave in Canada, trying to rebuild my family). If my wife had behaved as he had described how could I possibly commit myself again to our marriage? I simply couldn't trust her any more. There was no telling what she might allege against me next time the strain proved too much for her. B then uttered the words I will never forget: 'Fred, you do what we say and you'll be laughing all the way to the bank. The RUC have put you up for a MBE for gallantry. And I've recommended it to go forward. But ifyou fight us now, we'll crush you.'

That was the moment when I knew what I was up against, when B revealed his true colours. I reacted furiously. I said I wanted an inquiry, and as soon as I got out of Netley I was going to the Army Board to put in an appeal and set the wheels in motion. I could see no option

the best thing for me was to get right out of

but to divorce Fiona. I repeated once more, 'Sir, this isn't Soviet Russia.

You don't do this to an.officer in the British Army. If it takes me the rest of my life I'll get to the bottom of this.'

For many years I was toldthat my medical downgrading at Netley was dated on the day following B's visit. This was a lie. After recent questions asked on the matter in the House of Commons, the Army have admitted that I was medically downgraded, in my absence, by a Medical Board consisting of Lt. Col. Stewart, Captain Cantley, RAMC and a Medical Officer from the Navy named Hyles (whose sole contact with me, was a brief introduction whilst I was using the phone, at Netley). This medical downgrading served as an o{ficial statement that my transfer to the hospital had not been a mistake, since the regulai Board, ignoring its own rules ofprocedure, declared me to be 'occupationally maladjusted' and'environmentally disorientated'.

From that point on it was inevitable that I would not return to Ireland.

Those who wanted me out for good had got their way' The day after B's visit, Fiona was brought to Netley. I could barely look at her after what I had been put through, thanks to her behaviour on the morning after our frnal row at Bacombra. She went into Colonel Stewart's o{Iice on her own. After half an hour, I was called in. Fiona made a single false allegation about our domestic life, in my presence. I listened in silence, and when she had finished, said to the Colonel that I was not prepared to put up with this nonsense any longer. I had nothing else to add. IfFiona had been brought over to England by the Army, then she was now the concern of the Army. I intended to do what I had told Colonel B I believed was the right course ofaction. Fiona then left the hospital, we had acted almost like strangers neither seeming to know quite how we had come to this extraordinary situa-

111

tion, nor when or where we would next meet, only that things had got wildly out of hand, and it was far too late to try to undo them.

My last visitor at Netley was the Head of Army Psychiatry, General McGhie, RAMC. I had a halfhour session with him in which I toldhim I thought the whole business had been setup, andthatmywife hadbeen lrsed by those responsible. He, too, promised to investigate. McGhie, at

least, came back to me. But the news was not good. He simply told me I would have 'to put up with it'. He was sorry, he had visited Whitihall and been told I was'a political hot potato'. Nobody would touch my case. In years to come he would deny he ever said this. But, from my contacts in relevant positions, I know that he spent a considerable time trying to get someone to address my grievances in London, without success. The reason he gave me I believe was true.

I tendered my resignation from SMIU Northern Ireland, and the Army proper, while I was still in Netley. The response was very clever.

My resignation from SMIU was accepted - but not from Army, since I was a resident of an Army mental hospital, and therefore not in a position to resign. There was no consistency in this answer. But there was nothing I could do to change it. I was sent to Netley to remove me from Ulster. Unwittingly, my resignation from SMIU simply completed this aim.

However, I had only a short time left in the hospital now. Since my wife and children had kien successfully moved to England, I had givln up my job and been medically downgraded, there was no reason to keep me there much longer. I only discoverd later that Fiona had been told

by Colonel B that she would be coming back to England with our children before I had even had my initial medical interview at the hospital. One can only ask how he know this at the time.

I made one last gesture of defiance at Netley. I knew I had passed my tests. I asked Major Brown, the officer who had run them, why I could not be released immediately. He replied that he wasn't personally responsible for my case. It was under Secure classification and therefore the responsibility of Colonel Stewart. I then demanded an interview with the Colonel. This I was granted. I asked Stewart the same questions. But he said he was not prepared to discuss them with me. I then formally requested an independent second opinion, and stated that it would have to be from a doctor of my own choice, as the rules dictated. But Stewart ignored the rules. He offered me a list of three doctors, all with the required security clearance. I refused to choose one. I told Stewart that they would simply be carrying out whatever medical orders he gave them - they were not independent in any sense of the word. Again I demanded a doctor of my own choice. And again he refused.

Stewart told me quite plainly that I would never be going back to Ireland. Ever since I had come to Netley, I had kept my long hair and beard, the disguise I had worn in South Armagh, lrusting that sooner

112

or later this would all be resolved, and I could get back to the work for which I had been trained. But once I had seen Stewart, I immediately had my hair cut and face shaved. I told everyone with whom I associated that I would not now be going back to my duties - the 'shafting' had been successful. I had no choice but to accept what had been done to me, and try my best to mount a successful appeal which would bring everything out into the open. By now, of course, so many potential reasons had occurred to me that I had no idea just how many others an appeal would turn up. It wasn't simply a question of my own position. I had realized that: there were all the dirty tricks I had seen, or heard of.

There was Robert Nairac. The Badger. The bungled operations. How much did all that have to do with what had happened?

I had no way of knowing the answer. All I was certain of was that Fiona had been manipulated, willingly or not, by the Army, to be instrumental in my removal. She was not acting rationally at the time, and had been under severe stress. But she aleo had her own familiar reasons for wanting me out. To Brigade, in fact to all those orientated to M15 the expulsion of an operator who did not recognize any imperative more powerful than the duty to carry out his work in the most careful and efficient manner was a simple expedient. They wanted a different kind of man at work, and so they made sure they got him.

What they had calculated on, in making their decision, was an underlying weakness on my part, combined with a sense of ambition, that would ensure I accepted Colonel B's terms when I was offered them at Netley. Here, they made their mistake. I refused their terms, and I have refused them ever since. I am still fighting for the inquiry I demanded 14 years ago.

8

ANOTHER CAMPAIGN The period followingmy release from Netley wasthe worstphase ofmy life. Rather than diminish, the confusion and bitterness which resulted from my expulsion from Ulster merely increased, as all my efforts to have the matter satisfactorily addressed were repulsed.

The first thing

I did when I

was returaed to my Depot Regiment

(since my resignation from the Army had not been accepted) was to ask for permission to go and see my wife. The reaction was one of astonishment - no one in my Corps knew what had been going on - and I was granted my request. I climbed in a vehicle and went at once to see

Fiona in her new married quarters at Honiton in Devon. When I arrived, I found she was visiting her mother in Budleigh Salterbon. I went to a phone box and called them. My mother-in-law told me that Fiona would be with me in twenty minutes or so. Foolishly, I left my police notebook containing details of my last weeks in Ulster, in the phone box. The Devon police passed it back to the RUC, and they refused to return it to me. I am not surprised.

TVo cars arrived some time later-on one ofthem all my possessions had been stacked. Fiona quickly got out, and into the second car, driven by one of her friends. They then drove offagain. Furious, I climbed into

the vehicle with all the kit and followed them back to Budleigh Salterton. I made Fiona listen to me as I told her just what had been said to me by Colonel B. She refused to believe it. She said that she had been told I was seriously unwell, and she did not know why I was out of hospital at all. But she agreed to let me stay for a couple of days, and spend some time with the children. We talked a good deal - Fiona in constant tears - and she told me she was sorry for the pain she had caused me, she had spoken and acted quite irrationally, but she could do nothing now about what had happened as a result. I am not sure I

believed her.

Although she seemed to be cooperating now with the Army in their attempts to enforce some kind of reconciliation, even to the extent of moving, subsequently, to Aldershot, to a brand-new quarter that was made available to us there, her behaviour was simply beyond my understanding. It had no element of consistency - nor would it, I

112

or later this would all be resolved, and I could get back to the work for which I had been trained. But once I had seen Stewart, I immediately had my hair cut and face shaved. I told everyone with whom I associated that I would not now be going back to my duties - the 'shafting' had been successful. I had no choice but to accept what had been done to me, and try my best to mount a successful appeal which would bring everything out into the open. By now, of course, so many potential reasons had occurred to me that I had no idea just how many others an appeal would turn up. It wasn't simply a question of my own position. I had realized that: there were all the dirty tricks I had seen, or heard of.

There was Robert Nairac. The Badger. The bungled operations. How much did all that have to do with what had happened?

I had no way of knowing the answer. All I was certain of was that Fiona had been manipulated, willingly or not, by the Army, to be instrumental in my removal. She was not acting rationally at the time, and had been under severe stress. But she aleo had her own familiar reasons for wanting me out. To Brigade, in fact to all those orientated to M15 the expulsion of an operator who did not recognize any imperative more powerful than the duty to carry out his work in the most careful and efficient manner was a simple expedient. They wanted a different kind of man at work, and so they made sure they got him.

What they had calculated on, in making their decision, was an underlying weakness on my part, combined with a sense of ambition, that would ensure I accepted Colonel B's terms when I was offered them at Netley. Here, they made their mistake. I refused their terms, and I have refused them ever since. I am still fighting for the inquiry I demanded 14 years ago.

8

ANOTHER CAMPAIGN The period followingmy release from Netley wasthe worstphase ofmy life. Rather than diminish, the confusion and bitterness which resulted from my expulsion from Ulster merely increased, as all my efforts to have the matter satisfactorily addressed were repulsed.

The first thing

I did when I

was returaed to my Depot Regiment

(since my resignation from the Army had not been accepted) was to ask for permission to go and see my wife. The reaction was one of astonishment - no one in my Corps knew what had been going on - and I was granted my request. I climbed in a vehicle and went at once to see

Fiona in her new married quarters at Honiton in Devon. When I arrived, I found she was visiting her mother in Budleigh Salterbon. I went to a phone box and called them. My mother-in-law told me that Fiona would be with me in twenty minutes or so. Foolishly, I left my police notebook containing details of my last weeks in Ulster, in the phone box. The Devon police passed it back to the RUC, and they refused to return it to me. I am not surprised.

TVo cars arrived some time later-on one ofthem all my possessions had been stacked. Fiona quickly got out, and into the second car, driven by one of her friends. They then drove offagain. Furious, I climbed into

the vehicle with all the kit and followed them back to Budleigh Salterton. I made Fiona listen to me as I told her just what had been said to me by Colonel B. She refused to believe it. She said that she had been told I was seriously unwell, and she did not know why I was out of hospital at all. But she agreed to let me stay for a couple of days, and spend some time with the children. We talked a good deal - Fiona in constant tears - and she told me she was sorry for the pain she had caused me, she had spoken and acted quite irrationally, but she could do nothing now about what had happened as a result. I am not sure I

believed her.

Although she seemed to be cooperating now with the Army in their attempts to enforce some kind of reconciliation, even to the extent of moving, subsequently, to Aldershot, to a brand-new quarter that was made available to us there, her behaviour was simply beyond my understanding. It had no element of consistency - nor would it, I

114

if

she were suffering from some genuine mental instability.

There were times when I was convinced of this; others, when I firmly suppose,

believed she was part of the wider 'conspiracy' that had ruined my career. Whatever the case, no sooner had she moved, than she began making the sarne allegations all over again, to our new neighbours.

Eventually I was forced to leave the Married Quarter and take up accommodation in the Mess at Aldershot. I had thought that by living with Fiona again I mightbe able to persuade hertohelp me in my case.

But it wasn't to be. Not while I was still in the Army.

It was the most bizarre series of events I can recall. On one occasion, we had the Padre come to the house as some kind of mediator. Fiona broke down and confessed she had told lies about me to the Army. But she immediately retracted this. And, when questioned about it, the Padre refused to repeat what she had said. On another occasion, when she was still in Honiton, I found her in the bath, rigid, unable to touch herself - it seemed she was in a state of shock. I took her to the doctor.

She began seeing a Harley Street specialist called Dr Connell. I barely talked to the man, but when asked to give written evidence about our situation, he offered a detailed diagnosis ofwhat he considered to be my obsessive desire to clear my reputation, without any real appraisal of Fiona's condition which, at times such as these, seemed indeed, to have the intensity ofa real illness. I later discovered that Connell had been brought into the case by the Army medical authorities. Meanwhile, because I was still dow4graded, I had to see a psychiatrist at the Military hospital in Aldershot. I was told quite plainly by the Administrative Colonel that my case was wholly irregular, as I suspected. In the end, the RAMC refused to treat me, saying there wan no condition to treat, and I was ordered to attend a Medical Upgrading Board. I refused, since it was my argument that my downgrading had been illegal in the frrst place. I was eventually escorted in front of an Army Medical Board and not for the first time gave vent to a lot of spleen which, if I had been on the other side of the table, would have led me to believe that such extreme anger might well have been a symptom of some derangement or other! I was declared perfectly normal! A posting to Germany was promulgated the following day. I had to get a civilian solicitor to stop it, on the grounds that my whole treatment was inconsistent with natural justice.

All through this time, my chief preoccupation was to prove my sanity, and the underhand behaviour ofthose who had got me out of Ireland. But the more I pushed, the more the system refused me my legal rights under Military Law. It seemed there was no end to the velvet worded rebuffs, the neatly cushioned obstacles. I began to doubt that I should ever see my way through.

Eventually, after three months separated from Fiona, she wrote me a letter offering a last chance ofreconciliation - on one condition, that I leave the Army. I realized, once and for all, that this was what she had always really wanted. And, by this stage, I was so disillusioned the

115

thought of saving my family, and trying to start a new lif'e, made me waver in my determination. Fiona came back to Aldershot. The Mess had champagne sent to our room. I was excused military duties, and I finally agreed to quit, without the justice I had been seeking. My letter of resignation, in which I made quite clear my reasons for resigning, was accepted this time without any problem - although I was hurt by the extraordinary return letter sent to me, informing me that I would not be required to serve with the colours or for any reserve service at all. The Army had shut all doors to me.

My resignation did not mean I was prepared to give up the battle in itself, merely that I was at a loss how best to pursue it. I had written to the Army authorities repeatedly, stating and restating my case, making quite clear that I would settle for nothing less than an inquiry - my right under military law - that would clear me entirely of the stigma of having been allegedly mentally ill, and expose the real reasons for my removal from Ireland.By 26 March 1976, all I had received from the Army Board of the Defence Council, which was the ultimate authority I could appeal to, was a statement that I was removed from duty under a Non-Adverse report; it was agreed that any reference to my mental condition could be expunged from it, but it could not be reconsidered as part ofany wider investigation, since it was justified at the time. Meanwhile, my medical records would retain evidence of whatever. diagnosis Colonel Stewart had made, and, of course, my enforced hospitalisation. This was of no use to me whatever and it was not even an accurate appraisal ofwhat had happened. In fact I was not removed from my appointment under any Non-Adverse report. That was written later. I was removed before I was medically downgraded. These are the facts ofthe case. Once I had received the final ruling on my appeal, I decided my only chance was to appeal to The Sovereign, since this was the only course of action that would keep

the matter within official channels, where it would not involve any adverse publicity and put the reputation of the Army at risk. Needless to say, I got no joy here either. It was then that I decided that I would

have to take matters up elsewhere.

I made it quite plain to Lieutenant-Colonel Ching, my commanding offrcer at Aldershot, that since I had exhausted all the proper channels I felt it was within my rights to approach the Press. He told me that I should under no circumstances take this course of action. For the time being, I kept it in reserve. But I saw no reason now why I should not approach the police. I had had long enough to realize that to separate what had happened to me personally from the kind of dirty tricks I had witnessed in Ulster was a mistake. If I was to get no satisfactory investigation into my own case, taken in isolation, then I decided that my only course was to make the connection with other events apparent to authorities outside the Army, since it was their duty to investigate criminal activities, no matter who carried them out. Her Mqjesty's Forces were no exception to the rule of law. To this end, I went to

114

if

she were suffering from some genuine mental instability.

There were times when I was convinced of this; others, when I firmly suppose,

believed she was part of the wider 'conspiracy' that had ruined my career. Whatever the case, no sooner had she moved, than she began making the sarne allegations all over again, to our new neighbours.

Eventually I was forced to leave the Married Quarter and take up accommodation in the Mess at Aldershot. I had thought that by living with Fiona again I mightbe able to persuade hertohelp me in my case.

But it wasn't to be. Not while I was still in the Army.

It was the most bizarre series of events I can recall. On one occasion, we had the Padre come to the house as some kind of mediator. Fiona broke down and confessed she had told lies about me to the Army. But she immediately retracted this. And, when questioned about it, the Padre refused to repeat what she had said. On another occasion, when she was still in Honiton, I found her in the bath, rigid, unable to touch herself - it seemed she was in a state of shock. I took her to the doctor.

She began seeing a Harley Street specialist called Dr Connell. I barely talked to the man, but when asked to give written evidence about our situation, he offered a detailed diagnosis ofwhat he considered to be my obsessive desire to clear my reputation, without any real appraisal of Fiona's condition which, at times such as these, seemed indeed, to have the intensity ofa real illness. I later discovered that Connell had been brought into the case by the Army medical authorities. Meanwhile, because I was still dow4graded, I had to see a psychiatrist at the Military hospital in Aldershot. I was told quite plainly by the Administrative Colonel that my case was wholly irregular, as I suspected. In the end, the RAMC refused to treat me, saying there wan no condition to treat, and I was ordered to attend a Medical Upgrading Board. I refused, since it was my argument that my downgrading had been illegal in the frrst place. I was eventually escorted in front of an Army Medical Board and not for the first time gave vent to a lot of spleen which, if I had been on the other side of the table, would have led me to believe that such extreme anger might well have been a symptom of some derangement or other! I was declared perfectly normal! A posting to Germany was promulgated the following day. I had to get a civilian solicitor to stop it, on the grounds that my whole treatment was inconsistent with natural justice.

All through this time, my chief preoccupation was to prove my sanity, and the underhand behaviour ofthose who had got me out of Ireland. But the more I pushed, the more the system refused me my legal rights under Military Law. It seemed there was no end to the velvet worded rebuffs, the neatly cushioned obstacles. I began to doubt that I should ever see my way through.

Eventually, after three months separated from Fiona, she wrote me a letter offering a last chance ofreconciliation - on one condition, that I leave the Army. I realized, once and for all, that this was what she had always really wanted. And, by this stage, I was so disillusioned the

115

thought of saving my family, and trying to start a new lif'e, made me waver in my determination. Fiona came back to Aldershot. The Mess had champagne sent to our room. I was excused military duties, and I finally agreed to quit, without the justice I had been seeking. My letter of resignation, in which I made quite clear my reasons for resigning, was accepted this time without any problem - although I was hurt by the extraordinary return letter sent to me, informing me that I would not be required to serve with the colours or for any reserve service at all. The Army had shut all doors to me.

My resignation did not mean I was prepared to give up the battle in itself, merely that I was at a loss how best to pursue it. I had written to the Army authorities repeatedly, stating and restating my case, making quite clear that I would settle for nothing less than an inquiry - my right under military law - that would clear me entirely of the stigma of having been allegedly mentally ill, and expose the real reasons for my removal from Ireland.By 26 March 1976, all I had received from the Army Board of the Defence Council, which was the ultimate authority I could appeal to, was a statement that I was removed from duty under a Non-Adverse report; it was agreed that any reference to my mental condition could be expunged from it, but it could not be reconsidered as part ofany wider investigation, since it was justified at the time. Meanwhile, my medical records would retain evidence of whatever. diagnosis Colonel Stewart had made, and, of course, my enforced hospitalisation. This was of no use to me whatever and it was not even an accurate appraisal ofwhat had happened. In fact I was not removed from my appointment under any Non-Adverse report. That was written later. I was removed before I was medically downgraded. These are the facts ofthe case. Once I had received the final ruling on my appeal, I decided my only chance was to appeal to The Sovereign, since this was the only course of action that would keep

the matter within official channels, where it would not involve any adverse publicity and put the reputation of the Army at risk. Needless to say, I got no joy here either. It was then that I decided that I would

have to take matters up elsewhere.

I made it quite plain to Lieutenant-Colonel Ching, my commanding offrcer at Aldershot, that since I had exhausted all the proper channels I felt it was within my rights to approach the Press. He told me that I should under no circumstances take this course of action. For the time being, I kept it in reserve. But I saw no reason now why I should not approach the police. I had had long enough to realize that to separate what had happened to me personally from the kind of dirty tricks I had witnessed in Ulster was a mistake. If I was to get no satisfactory investigation into my own case, taken in isolation, then I decided that my only course was to make the connection with other events apparent to authorities outside the Army, since it was their duty to investigate criminal activities, no matter who carried them out. Her Mqjesty's Forces were no exception to the rule of law. To this end, I went to

116

117

Winchester Police Station on 11 July.1976, and saw the Chief Su rintendent there. He had known I was coming, since I had informed the lrmy of my intention. His only response wis to tell me that if I insisted on making allegations concerning the actions of p and others in ulster he would have to charge rne under the offrcial secrets Act. I was dumbfounded, realizing thal this would have been an abuse ofthe Act. I was familiar with theiricks ofthe RUC, but I still hadfaith in the good old English policeman. I began to wonder just tro*f.r tt set-up went. " g_

I found out soon afterwards. I took my case to the Metropolitan police at New scotland Yard, and saw two offrcers from the Anti-Terrorist Branch. They listened to what I had to say, but then told me they could not process any ofmy complaints. I protested vehemently. The two men went away for some minutes, then returned, to tell me quite plainly that they had discussed the matter with their superiors, and tirat the order not to deal with me came'right from the top-'.

I was now involved in my short lived reconciliation with Fiona _ so, for a brief time, f was more preoccupied on the domestic front. I;ov; up to Harrogate, my home town, and tried to begin a new !lt: ?*ilYit was life^. hopeless. No sooner were we back together aJm"; ;;e lut wife than I was being accused behind my back of ail f.inds ofinhum;; treatment. The whole marriage was beyond redemption, and we both realized there was no point in pretending otherwise. I sent Fiona back to her mother's. I was left alon'b in Harrogate. I could see little future 3!"u4 of Te. I applied for several jobs. The interviews seemed prornising but I never had a single offer ofwork. I had a sense that I was being followed-on occasions, but for a long while I could prove nothing. i y.e-"! to the police in Hanogate, but, like the others before them, ttiey didn't warrt to know alout my_case. Ispent too much time.fo"" fo, *1,

own good.

I

knew that

I had probably lost my family

through this

business, along with my careei. One night, I sat on a liindow tiage ai my parents' home, gazing down to the ground a long way leneaitr. I knew that only a slight shift of weight would make m]e rati. sut then i pulled myself together. I thought to myself, ,I'm not going to let them beat me'. I couldn't turn back, and I couldn't give upi fhEre was onty one way: forward. And so I set out again.

I went to the Samaritans, and my church deacon, who were fright_ ened ofthe intelligence connection and were eager to see the baci of me. I wrote to the local MP, Robert Banks, with att tt e details I had at my command, including the names of the policeman I had seen and what had been said to me. His reply w"s p""ii"t.ble: 'I am afraid that I cannot sincerely advise you to continue in your prrrsuit of recrimination against the Army. In so saying, may I siress that I can well understand how you feel, uut t trrint il ir iirit"boi"u"rt a'd will prove totally unrewarding for you to continue to iay sucrr charges. I do not think, quite frankly, thal they will succeed.'

I received this in october 1922. During the next couple ofweeks, as I went about my business in Hanogate, ibecame sure that -y."tiorr. were beingobserved. I took the registration numbers of three-different cars which had been following me. I went into the police stationand demanded to speak to someone from the Special Branch. I knew ihat, with Menwith Hill GCHQ Station only a little way up the road, there would be a heavy special Branch p"esence at the station. But the Desk pergeant-replied that they had oniy had a single constarte o" autl ana

he agreed to go and fetch him.

A man in ciwies came downstairs and asked what he could do for me. I said that he probably knew who I was, and that I had reason to

believe

I

was under surveillance.

If the

local special gr.tr"h .tr"t"

responsible, for any reason, I wanted to know. I had enough enemies from Ulster to make it yorth my while taking sensible pr"""."tio".,li lhey w91e not. I was told that they knew not*hing aboui me ."aO'g" home. The numbers would be checied and I wouii be contacted in die course. I left the station, without believing a word of it.

My old friend and mentor, Bunny Dearsley, comes back into the 1tory here. Four or five months before I was moved from Ireland, punny had been warned by Colonel B that he was on an IRA death_ list, his life was in dangerand he would have to leave Ireland. As a result ofthis warning he had left the province, and because his engageItent was up, he had retired from the army and was living-ne-ar Folkestone surrounded by his former NCO's and his family. Iie had established links with the Folkestone police force and waried me in

Harrogate by telephone that he had reaionto believe that I had become a.victim of a plot bylVII5 and Brigade He. Capt. D of He B Brigade had visited him in England while I was stiil irrulster toiell him I had already let without handing over my sources to anyone. since these had proved so valuable, he isked Bunny if he wouid give him their names and addresses. Bunny did so, in good faith. Onl later did he find out what had happened to me and r6ahsed that Brigade Ha h;; been conspiring to obtain my sources at least three months before i was sent to Netley.

The moment I left Harrogate police station, I got on the phone to Brll.ry in Folkestone. I knew he had been cooperiting with ihe local police, part-a,ime, and would be in a position to help ,i" .ro*- (Bu"ny had spotted an IRA car-stealing operation in the Lydd area). i askei it\u could get someone tn cfreck out the ..".rrrirrbu., I had given !:q Yorkshire police. He agreed, took the number of the pt o"" Uo" i *?. n, and promised to_,get hack as soon as he could. Bunny rang me twenty minutes later. He told me that all the cars belonged t"o trre Nortir Riding Constabulary, offrcially registered.

I went back to the station and demanded to see the Special Branch m_an again. Down he came, with his smooth manner, and^ said, ,Ah yes, Mr Holroyd, let's go into the interview room.' He sat-down opporit" -"

,

116

117

Winchester Police Station on 11 July.1976, and saw the Chief Su rintendent there. He had known I was coming, since I had informed the lrmy of my intention. His only response wis to tell me that if I insisted on making allegations concerning the actions of p and others in ulster he would have to charge rne under the offrcial secrets Act. I was dumbfounded, realizing thal this would have been an abuse ofthe Act. I was familiar with theiricks ofthe RUC, but I still hadfaith in the good old English policeman. I began to wonder just tro*f.r tt set-up went. " g_

I found out soon afterwards. I took my case to the Metropolitan police at New scotland Yard, and saw two offrcers from the Anti-Terrorist Branch. They listened to what I had to say, but then told me they could not process any ofmy complaints. I protested vehemently. The two men went away for some minutes, then returned, to tell me quite plainly that they had discussed the matter with their superiors, and tirat the order not to deal with me came'right from the top-'.

I was now involved in my short lived reconciliation with Fiona _ so, for a brief time, f was more preoccupied on the domestic front. I;ov; up to Harrogate, my home town, and tried to begin a new !lt: ?*ilYit was life^. hopeless. No sooner were we back together aJm"; ;;e lut wife than I was being accused behind my back of ail f.inds ofinhum;; treatment. The whole marriage was beyond redemption, and we both realized there was no point in pretending otherwise. I sent Fiona back to her mother's. I was left alon'b in Harrogate. I could see little future 3!"u4 of Te. I applied for several jobs. The interviews seemed prornising but I never had a single offer ofwork. I had a sense that I was being followed-on occasions, but for a long while I could prove nothing. i y.e-"! to the police in Hanogate, but, like the others before them, ttiey didn't warrt to know alout my_case. Ispent too much time.fo"" fo, *1,

own good.

I

knew that

I had probably lost my family

through this

business, along with my careei. One night, I sat on a liindow tiage ai my parents' home, gazing down to the ground a long way leneaitr. I knew that only a slight shift of weight would make m]e rati. sut then i pulled myself together. I thought to myself, ,I'm not going to let them beat me'. I couldn't turn back, and I couldn't give upi fhEre was onty one way: forward. And so I set out again.

I went to the Samaritans, and my church deacon, who were fright_ ened ofthe intelligence connection and were eager to see the baci of me. I wrote to the local MP, Robert Banks, with att tt e details I had at my command, including the names of the policeman I had seen and what had been said to me. His reply w"s p""ii"t.ble: 'I am afraid that I cannot sincerely advise you to continue in your prrrsuit of recrimination against the Army. In so saying, may I siress that I can well understand how you feel, uut t trrint il ir iirit"boi"u"rt a'd will prove totally unrewarding for you to continue to iay sucrr charges. I do not think, quite frankly, thal they will succeed.'

I received this in october 1922. During the next couple ofweeks, as I went about my business in Hanogate, ibecame sure that -y."tiorr. were beingobserved. I took the registration numbers of three-different cars which had been following me. I went into the police stationand demanded to speak to someone from the Special Branch. I knew ihat, with Menwith Hill GCHQ Station only a little way up the road, there would be a heavy special Branch p"esence at the station. But the Desk pergeant-replied that they had oniy had a single constarte o" autl ana

he agreed to go and fetch him.

A man in ciwies came downstairs and asked what he could do for me. I said that he probably knew who I was, and that I had reason to

believe

I

was under surveillance.

If the

local special gr.tr"h .tr"t"

responsible, for any reason, I wanted to know. I had enough enemies from Ulster to make it yorth my while taking sensible pr"""."tio".,li lhey w91e not. I was told that they knew not*hing aboui me ."aO'g" home. The numbers would be checied and I wouii be contacted in die course. I left the station, without believing a word of it.

My old friend and mentor, Bunny Dearsley, comes back into the 1tory here. Four or five months before I was moved from Ireland, punny had been warned by Colonel B that he was on an IRA death_ list, his life was in dangerand he would have to leave Ireland. As a result ofthis warning he had left the province, and because his engageItent was up, he had retired from the army and was living-ne-ar Folkestone surrounded by his former NCO's and his family. Iie had established links with the Folkestone police force and waried me in

Harrogate by telephone that he had reaionto believe that I had become a.victim of a plot bylVII5 and Brigade He. Capt. D of He B Brigade had visited him in England while I was stiil irrulster toiell him I had already let without handing over my sources to anyone. since these had proved so valuable, he isked Bunny if he wouid give him their names and addresses. Bunny did so, in good faith. Onl later did he find out what had happened to me and r6ahsed that Brigade Ha h;; been conspiring to obtain my sources at least three months before i was sent to Netley.

The moment I left Harrogate police station, I got on the phone to Brll.ry in Folkestone. I knew he had been cooperiting with ihe local police, part-a,ime, and would be in a position to help ,i" .ro*- (Bu"ny had spotted an IRA car-stealing operation in the Lydd area). i askei it\u could get someone tn cfreck out the ..".rrrirrbu., I had given !:q Yorkshire police. He agreed, took the number of the pt o"" Uo" i *?. n, and promised to_,get hack as soon as he could. Bunny rang me twenty minutes later. He told me that all the cars belonged t"o trre Nortir Riding Constabulary, offrcially registered.

I went back to the station and demanded to see the Special Branch m_an again. Down he came, with his smooth manner, and^ said, ,Ah yes, Mr Holroyd, let's go into the interview room.' He sat-down opporit" -"

,

118

and told me, brazen-faced, that one car belonged to a housewife in Otley, another to a farmer at Ilkley, and the third to a woman in Knaresborough. I said, 'You're a liar! Because I've just checked the central computer and they all belong to you!'

He disappeared from the interview room, blughing. Within a few minutes, ttrl Ctrief Superintendent of the Special Branch returned in his place, and admitted that they had been asked to keep an eye on me, sincl they did not want me to talk to the wrong kind of people! I quickly found out whom he was refening to - and it simply made me all the more angry. I had yet to make any contacts with Fleet Street. But the INSIGHT team from The Sunday fimes had heard about me through the grapevine, and came to interview me about Robert Nairac' I wasn't preparCd to speak about Nairac then. Besides, Robert had orrly iecently been murdered and I felt I would say nothing about him unless mv own case instead, T I ehsolrrfnlv absolutely had to. I had talked to them about my though they hadn't been at all interested. They were obsessed with whatthe SAS had been up to. At that time I did not help them.

Looking back I might as well have told the whole story there and then. I was now a suitable subject for surveillance. I went straight to Robert Banks MP and told him what had happened. Banks dutifully informed Mr Crofton Brown at the Ministry ofDefence, who showedno interest in me, or my allegations. Nor, indeed, as it turned out, would Banks himself. He had his own role to play in the Shadow Defence

Ministry. Of course he a{vised me I would get no satisfaction.

But now I had stood up to the Harrogate Special Branch, and made them take me seriously, they became the first police force to agree to

!977,I made signed statements to Detective Sergeant A. Kerr and Detective Constable Dickinson about a number of incidents in Ulster, including the bungled kidnappings, the illegal planting of ammunition in Columba process my complaints. On 23 November

McVeigh's house, and the forced entry into various private properties.

I made it clear that innocent life had been lost as a result of actions involving the British Army and the RUC Special Branch. I was assured, in writing, that North Yorkshire police would take action. Chief Constable A.B- Connell informed me that a full report had been forwarded to the 'appropriate authority', but that there might be a delay before enquiries were begun. I should not doubt in any case that my allegations would be taken very seriously.

I felt at last that I had achieved a genuine success. I had got to know the o{frcers at Harrogate police station quite well, and I had begun to trust them, as I felt they had begrrn to trust me. (My credibility with

I identified a heroin dealer operating in Harrogate to the Drug Squad). I was prepared to leave the matter in

them had risen when

their liands. Once my allegations were investigated and were found to be true, I wds sure that all those offrcials in the Army and the Ministry

of Defence would be forced to give honest answers to my questions. I would get a decent inquiry into the whole matter of what was going on

119

in Ulster, between the SMIUs, the Special Branch, Army Intelligence and the civilian Intelligence services. And, as a result, I would personally receive an apology for what was done to me, a genuine adjustment of my records, and all stigma attached to me for my transfer to Netley comprehensively removed.

During the course of 1976, I had been offered a job with the Rhodesian Army, which I had declined to take up, since I was determined to frnd someone in authority who would pursue my case. Now I felt that, in the circumstances, it would be in my best intâ&#x201A;Źrests to accept thejob. I desperately needed work and, as a soldier, the opportunity seemed too good to pass over, especially since the Rhodesian Army had kept the post open for a year, in the hope that I would eventually decide to go out. I was one of many British nationals who, for one reason or another, boarded the plane for Salisbury during those years to see active service in the bush. There was no ideological reason for my departure. I simply decided to go and do a job I knew I was good at. For all I knew, I might even come to view the events of the recent past in a different light. Late in 1978, I left Britain for a three year term as a Mqior in the Rhodesian Army.

I visited the Harrogate Special Branch detectives one last time to make sure I would not be forgotten. I received the same assuranceg I had before.

118

and told me, brazen-faced, that one car belonged to a housewife in Otley, another to a farmer at Ilkley, and the third to a woman in Knaresborough. I said, 'You're a liar! Because I've just checked the central computer and they all belong to you!'

He disappeared from the interview room, blughing. Within a few minutes, ttrl Ctrief Superintendent of the Special Branch returned in his place, and admitted that they had been asked to keep an eye on me, sincl they did not want me to talk to the wrong kind of people! I quickly found out whom he was refening to - and it simply made me all the more angry. I had yet to make any contacts with Fleet Street. But the INSIGHT team from The Sunday fimes had heard about me through the grapevine, and came to interview me about Robert Nairac' I wasn't preparCd to speak about Nairac then. Besides, Robert had orrly iecently been murdered and I felt I would say nothing about him unless mv own case instead, T I ehsolrrfnlv absolutely had to. I had talked to them about my though they hadn't been at all interested. They were obsessed with whatthe SAS had been up to. At that time I did not help them.

Looking back I might as well have told the whole story there and then. I was now a suitable subject for surveillance. I went straight to Robert Banks MP and told him what had happened. Banks dutifully informed Mr Crofton Brown at the Ministry ofDefence, who showedno interest in me, or my allegations. Nor, indeed, as it turned out, would Banks himself. He had his own role to play in the Shadow Defence

Ministry. Of course he a{vised me I would get no satisfaction.

But now I had stood up to the Harrogate Special Branch, and made them take me seriously, they became the first police force to agree to

!977,I made signed statements to Detective Sergeant A. Kerr and Detective Constable Dickinson about a number of incidents in Ulster, including the bungled kidnappings, the illegal planting of ammunition in Columba process my complaints. On 23 November

McVeigh's house, and the forced entry into various private properties.

I made it clear that innocent life had been lost as a result of actions involving the British Army and the RUC Special Branch. I was assured, in writing, that North Yorkshire police would take action. Chief Constable A.B- Connell informed me that a full report had been forwarded to the 'appropriate authority', but that there might be a delay before enquiries were begun. I should not doubt in any case that my allegations would be taken very seriously.

I felt at last that I had achieved a genuine success. I had got to know the o{frcers at Harrogate police station quite well, and I had begun to trust them, as I felt they had begrrn to trust me. (My credibility with

I identified a heroin dealer operating in Harrogate to the Drug Squad). I was prepared to leave the matter in

them had risen when

their liands. Once my allegations were investigated and were found to be true, I wds sure that all those offrcials in the Army and the Ministry

of Defence would be forced to give honest answers to my questions. I would get a decent inquiry into the whole matter of what was going on

119

in Ulster, between the SMIUs, the Special Branch, Army Intelligence and the civilian Intelligence services. And, as a result, I would personally receive an apology for what was done to me, a genuine adjustment of my records, and all stigma attached to me for my transfer to Netley comprehensively removed.

During the course of 1976, I had been offered a job with the Rhodesian Army, which I had declined to take up, since I was determined to frnd someone in authority who would pursue my case. Now I felt that, in the circumstances, it would be in my best intâ&#x201A;Źrests to accept thejob. I desperately needed work and, as a soldier, the opportunity seemed too good to pass over, especially since the Rhodesian Army had kept the post open for a year, in the hope that I would eventually decide to go out. I was one of many British nationals who, for one reason or another, boarded the plane for Salisbury during those years to see active service in the bush. There was no ideological reason for my departure. I simply decided to go and do a job I knew I was good at. For all I knew, I might even come to view the events of the recent past in a different light. Late in 1978, I left Britain for a three year term as a Mqior in the Rhodesian Army.

I visited the Harrogate Special Branch detectives one last time to make sure I would not be forgotten. I received the same assuranceg I had before.

121

9

RHODESIAN SOJOURN I had a hard time in Rhodesia, but I do not regret going. The Rhodesian

Military had little affection for the British. The attitude

of the indigenous armed forces and police reminded me of the loyalists in Ulster,

and the RUC. My own Commanding Officer, when I first went there, had a reputation for sacking British soldiers once they were serving under him. But after some time, through sheer hard work and professionalism, I managed to impress him; and he recommended me to take over a new squadron that was being formed, ahead ofall the Rhodesian oflicers going for the post. I had insisted on enmlment that I would not take part in any Intelligence activities, and I was accepted with this proviso.

Yet even here all was not what it seemed. I was about to take a ten day leave for Christmas 1978. I had just begun to feel I had really settled down, and been accepted; I was commanding a Logistic Company running various transport convoys through the bush and successfully defeating ambushes by the guerrillas. It had restored a sense of purpose in me not because I had any personal feelings concerning the rights and wrongs ofthe war, but simplybecause Iwas doing ajob well.

Only someone, somewhere, clearly felt the time had come to remind me of what I had left behind in the U.K.

I had taken my Army Landrover, and was driving down from Inkomo ganison, north of Salisbury, to Darwendale, about thirty

miles to the south, when I became certain I was under surveillance.

There could be no doubt about it. The garrison was right in the bush, and there was only a strip road running out to the main Salisbury road.

After only a few minutes' driving, a white Peugeot car appeared behind me, and tailed me all the way down to Darwendale. I asumed, at frrst, that it was someone checking up on me because I was using the Landrover for a private journey, although this did not worry me since I had permission to do so. When I came through Salisbury, and the car was still with me, I began to grow annoyed and carried out anti surveillance drills. I pulled in and turned a corner, round the back of a church set off the road. The car did likewise, and stopped when I

stopped. I tupned my lights off, so did my pursuer. I drove forward a few yards, thinking to myself that I might as well play games, if that was what he wanted. He too drove forward and stopped again when I did.

Then I shot past him and away. He came after me. I felt sure now that it

was not simply a question of the vehicle I had borrowed from Inkomo

barracks.

Within a couple of days I was back in England on leave. Fiona and I had finally been divorced. I lost everything I had to her, including my parents'house in Harrogate. The Army's evidence of my alleged mental instability weighed heavily against me.

When I returned from leave, I learned that my experience with the 'tail' on the road to Salisbury was not the only sign that I was being checked up on. A couple of acquaintances of mine, both female, had been visited by men who said they represented the Rhodesian Army Security who asked all sorts ofpersonal questions about me: whether I was sexually normal, whether I spent a lot of money or talked at length about nry job. When I learned of this, it was like the recurrence of a nightmare. I had become aware that a number of people who had been mixed up with the Security Services in Ulster had either died shortly after leaving the province or become victims of strange accidents. I rang my OC in Rhodesia at once and told him what had happened. He knew all about my experience in Ireland and told me to try to find out exactly who had been responsible. I then contacted the Special Investigation Branch of the Rhodesian Military Police and informed them that I thought I was under surveillance. They denied they were responsible but told me they had a pretty good idea who might be: Army Counter Intelligence, a highly undercover group which could not be discussed over the telephone. But then to my surprise I was given a number on which to ring them. Clearly, Northern Ireland was not the only place where schisms between the various Intelligence agencies were at work.

I rangthe number and put the same questionto the ACI. There was a long silence, while whoever answered the phone passed the call to somebody else. Then a voice came on the line saying'Ah yes, hello Fred!' And of course I knew I had got the right people. The voice belonged to Captain Des Fontaine, the offrcer commanding ACI. He told me that I was on the periphery of an investigation into some American officers serving in the Army, suspected of smuggling guns into South Africa. 'Nonsense', I said, and asked for the truth. His attitude changed immediately, he said I had better come in and see him; perhaps we should talk things over. I agreed. He suggested we meet in the lobby of the Monopatapo Hotel in Salisbury.

Afterwards, I rang one of my'call-up'officers, an attorney, and told him the story. I asked if he would accompany me to the meeting, and he agreed since his oflices were near the hotel. I picked him up in my car and we drove down, then stood in the lobby, waiting. A huge bear of a man came up to me and flapped his ID card in my face. When he spoke, I realised at once that he was a Yorkshireman - it was a bizarre touch.

He refused to let my friend come any further than the lobby, but then took me to a room in the depths ofthe hotel to see his boss.

121

9

RHODESIAN SOJOURN I had a hard time in Rhodesia, but I do not regret going. The Rhodesian

Military had little affection for the British. The attitude

of the indigenous armed forces and police reminded me of the loyalists in Ulster,

and the RUC. My own Commanding Officer, when I first went there, had a reputation for sacking British soldiers once they were serving under him. But after some time, through sheer hard work and professionalism, I managed to impress him; and he recommended me to take over a new squadron that was being formed, ahead ofall the Rhodesian oflicers going for the post. I had insisted on enmlment that I would not take part in any Intelligence activities, and I was accepted with this proviso.

Yet even here all was not what it seemed. I was about to take a ten day leave for Christmas 1978. I had just begun to feel I had really settled down, and been accepted; I was commanding a Logistic Company running various transport convoys through the bush and successfully defeating ambushes by the guerrillas. It had restored a sense of purpose in me not because I had any personal feelings concerning the rights and wrongs ofthe war, but simplybecause Iwas doing ajob well.

Only someone, somewhere, clearly felt the time had come to remind me of what I had left behind in the U.K.

I had taken my Army Landrover, and was driving down from Inkomo ganison, north of Salisbury, to Darwendale, about thirty

miles to the south, when I became certain I was under surveillance.

There could be no doubt about it. The garrison was right in the bush, and there was only a strip road running out to the main Salisbury road.

After only a few minutes' driving, a white Peugeot car appeared behind me, and tailed me all the way down to Darwendale. I asumed, at frrst, that it was someone checking up on me because I was using the Landrover for a private journey, although this did not worry me since I had permission to do so. When I came through Salisbury, and the car was still with me, I began to grow annoyed and carried out anti surveillance drills. I pulled in and turned a corner, round the back of a church set off the road. The car did likewise, and stopped when I

stopped. I tupned my lights off, so did my pursuer. I drove forward a few yards, thinking to myself that I might as well play games, if that was what he wanted. He too drove forward and stopped again when I did.

Then I shot past him and away. He came after me. I felt sure now that it

was not simply a question of the vehicle I had borrowed from Inkomo

barracks.

Within a couple of days I was back in England on leave. Fiona and I had finally been divorced. I lost everything I had to her, including my parents'house in Harrogate. The Army's evidence of my alleged mental instability weighed heavily against me.

When I returned from leave, I learned that my experience with the 'tail' on the road to Salisbury was not the only sign that I was being checked up on. A couple of acquaintances of mine, both female, had been visited by men who said they represented the Rhodesian Army Security who asked all sorts ofpersonal questions about me: whether I was sexually normal, whether I spent a lot of money or talked at length about nry job. When I learned of this, it was like the recurrence of a nightmare. I had become aware that a number of people who had been mixed up with the Security Services in Ulster had either died shortly after leaving the province or become victims of strange accidents. I rang my OC in Rhodesia at once and told him what had happened. He knew all about my experience in Ireland and told me to try to find out exactly who had been responsible. I then contacted the Special Investigation Branch of the Rhodesian Military Police and informed them that I thought I was under surveillance. They denied they were responsible but told me they had a pretty good idea who might be: Army Counter Intelligence, a highly undercover group which could not be discussed over the telephone. But then to my surprise I was given a number on which to ring them. Clearly, Northern Ireland was not the only place where schisms between the various Intelligence agencies were at work.

I rangthe number and put the same questionto the ACI. There was a long silence, while whoever answered the phone passed the call to somebody else. Then a voice came on the line saying'Ah yes, hello Fred!' And of course I knew I had got the right people. The voice belonged to Captain Des Fontaine, the offrcer commanding ACI. He told me that I was on the periphery of an investigation into some American officers serving in the Army, suspected of smuggling guns into South Africa. 'Nonsense', I said, and asked for the truth. His attitude changed immediately, he said I had better come in and see him; perhaps we should talk things over. I agreed. He suggested we meet in the lobby of the Monopatapo Hotel in Salisbury.

Afterwards, I rang one of my'call-up'officers, an attorney, and told him the story. I asked if he would accompany me to the meeting, and he agreed since his oflices were near the hotel. I picked him up in my car and we drove down, then stood in the lobby, waiting. A huge bear of a man came up to me and flapped his ID card in my face. When he spoke, I realised at once that he was a Yorkshireman - it was a bizarre touch.

He refused to let my friend come any further than the lobby, but then took me to a room in the depths ofthe hotel to see his boss.

122

When I went into the hotel room, I noticed a tape recorder sitting on the desk. Behind it was Captain Des Fontaine, smiling at me with the kind of innocent assurance I had become familiar with in such circumstances. 'Sit down, Fred,' he said, 'and tell me about why you ieft Northern Ireland.' As often before, I expressed my disbelief at what was happening to me. And I told him that the whole business made me very upset. For this reason I would go through it once, and when I had frnished that was it, no more. He had the details already. Before I came to Rhodesia, I had made sure the Army there knew as much as I did about what had transpired: I had kept everyone informed.

I simply did not understand why they should start this undercover investigation into my affairs. Des Fontaine simply told me to relax, they just wanted to get things right. So if I wouldn't mind . . . I spent an hour going through what had happened. I was in tears by the end ofit.

Again, Des Fontaine told me to calm down, and sent for a cup ofcoffee.

He turned off the tape and waited. Then he said, 'I want you to go

through it one more time.'

I lost all control at that point. I got up and smashed the tape recorder.

I swore at the Captain and his senior NCO, and told them I was going to see the General himself about this. I had performed well in their army, I wasn't going to be treated in the same way as I had been in England.

The Yorkshireman tried to restrain me, but I was having none of it. I walked out on them, picked up my attorney friend and drove off.

I went straight to Army HQ at King George VI Barracks, and marched into my CO's ofnce. I told him that I was resigning my commission, Colonel 'Skin'T\rrner was no Colonel B, I'm glad to say.

He asked me to tell him exactly what had been going on, and when I had, he got hold of his 2ilc and sent him immediately to see General MacKintyre, the olficer in charge of all Army Manpower and Planning. Like T\rrner, it transpired that the General knew nothing of what the Army Counter Intelligence Unit had been up to. But he promised to frnd out. I waited half an hour. A call came through that the General had made some headway in his inquiries. I was not to be allowed to resign right away, but should wait a week until he had discovered exactly who had authorised the investigation. Then we should discuss the matter with all the facts at our command.

I did as I was asked. I went up to my front line eub{rnit at Umtali, and waited for three days until I got a call to go back to Army HQ to see 'Skin' T\rrner. T\rrner gave me as full an explanation as he could. He told me he had to choose his words very carefully, for the matter was a delicate one. Firstly, he could assure me that General MacKintyre had known nothing about the investigation. Secondly, the General had told him that if I wanted to go to see him he was prepared to say to my face that I would never be investigated in such a way again, and he, personally thought it was scandalous. Thirdly, the General had asked him to explain something to me as circumspectly as he could.

123

The Rhodesians were still having trouble with the sanctions that had first been imposed in the sixties when Ian Smith had made the Unilateral Declaration of Independence. The Rhodesian regime was being helped to circumvent sanctions by powerful friends in England, among them MI5. On the 'old boy' network some of the same MI5 personnel who had been involved in getting me out oflreland had done a hatchet job on me to Des Fontaine, head of the Rtrodesian Army Counter Inteligence. My former OC subsequently told me that Colonel 'Skin' T\rner had been told by ACI that I was an MI6 spy in Rhodesia.

This was a very serious allegation and could not only have finished my career in the Rhodesian Army, but under the Emergency Powers Act then in force, it could have led to a long term in prison.

Up to this pointl had identified my enemies inlreland asmyColonel and the staffof HQ 3 Brigade. Now I realised things were much more serious and began re-evaluating the events which had led to my departure from Ireland. I recalled that Bunny Dearsley had attended a conference at HQ 3 Brigade some 6 months before my departure where it had been suggested that an MI5 agent should replace me on crossborder work. Mr Smellie (of MI6) had vigorously resisted this and the matter had been dropped. I also now recalled that 3 Brigade had requested me to take Captain M, the Explosives Ordnance Disposal officer mentioned earlier, over the border to meet my sources. I had done so in the hope ofstarting co--operation between the bomb disposal units of the two armies. Such inter-arrny cmperation was being done clandestinely because at that time the British and Irish Governments were virtually not on speaking terms. The diplomatic frost of the period was in part the result of some covert operations carried out in the Republic in the years before, such as the Littlejohn brothers'bank robberies, and bombings in the Republic in 1974, widely believed to be the work of Protestant terrorists working with the British Army.

I had taken Captain M across the border to meet various sources in the Republic, including the most important of them at that time, the Badger. Then an IRA source informed me that the Frovos had arranged to ambush an Army officer in civilian clothes they had identifred repeatedly crossing the border at the same place. I found that this was Captain M. There was extreme danger here because Captain M could have led the IRA to my sources in the Republic. I reported this to Mr Smellie who ordered Brigade to stop Captain M's operation. (I later discovered that Capt. M, under instruction to pass intelligence to Mr Smellie through me, had instead been passing the information to Brigade, and thus to MI5. Captain M had, in effect, been used to penetrate MI6's operations for MI5. It is perhaps not surprising that the ollicer who replaced me when I was put in Netley was the same Captain M - and after him, a series of MI5 officers.)

But it would be dishonest of me to claim that at this point all the pieces in the jigsaw fell into place. Yes, MI5 had entered the picture which before had been almost entirely dominated, in my mind, by

122

When I went into the hotel room, I noticed a tape recorder sitting on the desk. Behind it was Captain Des Fontaine, smiling at me with the kind of innocent assurance I had become familiar with in such circumstances. 'Sit down, Fred,' he said, 'and tell me about why you ieft Northern Ireland.' As often before, I expressed my disbelief at what was happening to me. And I told him that the whole business made me very upset. For this reason I would go through it once, and when I had frnished that was it, no more. He had the details already. Before I came to Rhodesia, I had made sure the Army there knew as much as I did about what had transpired: I had kept everyone informed.

I simply did not understand why they should start this undercover investigation into my affairs. Des Fontaine simply told me to relax, they just wanted to get things right. So if I wouldn't mind . . . I spent an hour going through what had happened. I was in tears by the end ofit.

Again, Des Fontaine told me to calm down, and sent for a cup ofcoffee.

He turned off the tape and waited. Then he said, 'I want you to go

through it one more time.'

I lost all control at that point. I got up and smashed the tape recorder.

I swore at the Captain and his senior NCO, and told them I was going to see the General himself about this. I had performed well in their army, I wasn't going to be treated in the same way as I had been in England.

The Yorkshireman tried to restrain me, but I was having none of it. I walked out on them, picked up my attorney friend and drove off.

I went straight to Army HQ at King George VI Barracks, and marched into my CO's ofnce. I told him that I was resigning my commission, Colonel 'Skin'T\rrner was no Colonel B, I'm glad to say.

He asked me to tell him exactly what had been going on, and when I had, he got hold of his 2ilc and sent him immediately to see General MacKintyre, the olficer in charge of all Army Manpower and Planning. Like T\rrner, it transpired that the General knew nothing of what the Army Counter Intelligence Unit had been up to. But he promised to frnd out. I waited half an hour. A call came through that the General had made some headway in his inquiries. I was not to be allowed to resign right away, but should wait a week until he had discovered exactly who had authorised the investigation. Then we should discuss the matter with all the facts at our command.

I did as I was asked. I went up to my front line eub{rnit at Umtali, and waited for three days until I got a call to go back to Army HQ to see 'Skin' T\rrner. T\rrner gave me as full an explanation as he could. He told me he had to choose his words very carefully, for the matter was a delicate one. Firstly, he could assure me that General MacKintyre had known nothing about the investigation. Secondly, the General had told him that if I wanted to go to see him he was prepared to say to my face that I would never be investigated in such a way again, and he, personally thought it was scandalous. Thirdly, the General had asked him to explain something to me as circumspectly as he could.

123

The Rhodesians were still having trouble with the sanctions that had first been imposed in the sixties when Ian Smith had made the Unilateral Declaration of Independence. The Rhodesian regime was being helped to circumvent sanctions by powerful friends in England, among them MI5. On the 'old boy' network some of the same MI5 personnel who had been involved in getting me out oflreland had done a hatchet job on me to Des Fontaine, head of the Rtrodesian Army Counter Inteligence. My former OC subsequently told me that Colonel 'Skin' T\rner had been told by ACI that I was an MI6 spy in Rhodesia.

This was a very serious allegation and could not only have finished my career in the Rhodesian Army, but under the Emergency Powers Act then in force, it could have led to a long term in prison.

Up to this pointl had identified my enemies inlreland asmyColonel and the staffof HQ 3 Brigade. Now I realised things were much more serious and began re-evaluating the events which had led to my departure from Ireland. I recalled that Bunny Dearsley had attended a conference at HQ 3 Brigade some 6 months before my departure where it had been suggested that an MI5 agent should replace me on crossborder work. Mr Smellie (of MI6) had vigorously resisted this and the matter had been dropped. I also now recalled that 3 Brigade had requested me to take Captain M, the Explosives Ordnance Disposal officer mentioned earlier, over the border to meet my sources. I had done so in the hope ofstarting co--operation between the bomb disposal units of the two armies. Such inter-arrny cmperation was being done clandestinely because at that time the British and Irish Governments were virtually not on speaking terms. The diplomatic frost of the period was in part the result of some covert operations carried out in the Republic in the years before, such as the Littlejohn brothers'bank robberies, and bombings in the Republic in 1974, widely believed to be the work of Protestant terrorists working with the British Army.

I had taken Captain M across the border to meet various sources in the Republic, including the most important of them at that time, the Badger. Then an IRA source informed me that the Frovos had arranged to ambush an Army officer in civilian clothes they had identifred repeatedly crossing the border at the same place. I found that this was Captain M. There was extreme danger here because Captain M could have led the IRA to my sources in the Republic. I reported this to Mr Smellie who ordered Brigade to stop Captain M's operation. (I later discovered that Capt. M, under instruction to pass intelligence to Mr Smellie through me, had instead been passing the information to Brigade, and thus to MI5. Captain M had, in effect, been used to penetrate MI6's operations for MI5. It is perhaps not surprising that the ollicer who replaced me when I was put in Netley was the same Captain M - and after him, a series of MI5 officers.)

But it would be dishonest of me to claim that at this point all the pieces in the jigsaw fell into place. Yes, MI5 had entered the picture which before had been almost entirely dominated, in my mind, by

124

-#

TOP: A success for the Rhodesian security forces in a contact with ZIPRA. BELOW: Rhodesia,1979.

Rhodesian security forces being briefed before an operation in the bush, 1979

trn

124

-#

TOP: A success for the Rhodesian security forces in a contact with ZIPRA. BELOW: Rhodesia,1979.

Rhodesian security forces being briefed before an operation in the bush, 1979

trn

127

126

Brigade HQ. But the appearance of MI5 at this stage just confused me

further.

This is not the place to recount my experiences of the war in Rhodesia. However, there were two incidents which illustrate the machiavellian nature of the intelligence trade.

In 1979, under British and American pressure, a settlement was being organised to end the war. The Rhodesian population - black and white - althoughwarweary, did not wantto see a sell--outtowhatthey saw as 'communism' a la Mozambique. (After the withdrawal of the Portugese forces, Mozambique had been taken over by FRELIMINO, led by Samora Machel. An economic collapse followed and it was no secret in Rhodesia that the people in Mozambique were starving.)

While the Prime Minister, Bishop Muzorewa, his cabinet and the armed forces made a great effort to present the agreement likely to emerge from the Lancaster House talks as acceptable, the big landowneis were talking ofrazing the country to the ground rather than hand the country over. After the Lancaster House agreement was signed, an election was to be held. It had been agreed -that all Rfiodesian security forces would be confined to banacks for three months, this being overseen by a monitoring force from the Commonwealth, who would set up assembly points in the bush to which all guerrillas, both inside and outside the country would report for this 3 month period. This, in theory, would enable the electorate to vote

without intimidation.

It was in this atmosphere that secret meetings were held in military establishments all over the country. Only Majors and above attended and the venues were guardedby armed soldiers' Bishop Muzorewa and the senior officers addressed the assembled offrcers and informed them that they should not worry about the approaching election becat'se a secret deal had been done with the British who were determined that

Rhodesia would not go Marxist. The Bishop claimed he had been assured by Mrs Thatcher that if the guerillas did not conform to the arrangements, the British would rig the election. I heard Bishop Muzorewa say this at the meeting held at 4 Brigade HQ at Fort Victoria. Muzorewa stood on the platform surrounded by the General Staff and assured the Rhodesians that he had complete faith in Mrs Thatcher's word. After the meeting was over I tried to convince my fellow officers that under no circumstances should the British be trusted, and for my efforts was carpeted by the Brigade Mqjor and told to hold my tongue. I do not know whether the Bishop had been deceived

by the British, and having been part of the conspiracy, was subsequently in no position to complain; or whether the Bishop and the General Staffwere lying to their offrcers to induce them to take part in the charade that followed; or whether the Bishop was telling the truth, and that there was an attempt to rig the election which failed' If the British lied to the Rhodesians, it might explain why General Walls, Joint Services Commander, felt he had the moral right to attempt to

organise a coup when the election results Mugabe's party - became known.

-

and the victory for Mr

The second event of which I have some knowledge concerned the attempt to kill Robert Mugabe while he was electioneering in the Fort victoria area. At this time we had the British Monitoring Force attached to the HQ. Just after lunch, while sitting in the mess talking with one of the British o1ficers, there was an almighty explosion close to the British HQ which was situated next to the military/civilian airport. Startled, ih" gtitittt officer said 'What on earth was that?'

Joiittgly, I replied 'Oh, just someone trving to blow up rylr Mu-sape'l Seconis iater as the mesi was vacated confirmation came through that this was indeed what had occurred. I immediately mobilised one of my

armoured ambulances and went to the scene. The explosion had occurred on the narrow road leading to the airstrip. 1000lbs of Russian explosives had been planted in aiulvertunderthe road, blowing a hole the size of two doubie decker buses. There was utter confusion as Mr Mugabe's bodyguards, suffering from shock, ran around pointing weapon"s and threalening people. Mr Mugabe himself, who had narrowly avoided death, had Gen rushed to the airstrip and put on a Viscount aircraft which was in the process of taking off. As it left the strip an army helicopter clung to its tail providing escort.

In the evening whqn I had time to go over the events of the day and had learned that the explosives had been remotely detonated, I recalled that a couple ofhours before the event I had seen a uniformed major in SAS em6ellishments in the HQ building. (The everyday-we3r uniform of the Rhodesian SAS was identical to that ofthe British SAS).

He was being briefed in the presence of both Rhodesian and British Monitoring force offrcers and I was asked to move away' I also knew that this SlS oflicer had taken offin a light aircraft and was over the scene of the explosion at the time of its detonation. The frring wire leading from tG explosives in a ditch terminated some 70 metres from tne roia and the p"rsott who detonated the explosives lad no line of sight to the road is his vision was obscured by bushes' (He was never calptured.) I suspect the SAS M4jor was an aerial observer of the MiigaUe convoy ginittg the command to fire to the man on the ground' The"combinatiln of these factors led me to speculate that both British and Rhodesians cHperated in this incident. whether this incident was intended to kill Mr Mugabe or merely frighten him, I don't know' Rhodesia was a kind of clearing ground for me, a breathing space'-I Utea tne white Rhodesians, juJt as I was very fond of the black Rhodesians with whom I had close acquaintance. The former were proud, stubborn people, but earthy, and coarse in a manner I found lrrgugirrg. I can certainly say they treated the black African population far"b6tte-r than most people realise. I can provide an example ofjust how this worked, in terms of a guerrilla war that was not without its parallels to the war in Ulster.

)

127

126

Brigade HQ. But the appearance of MI5 at this stage just confused me

further.

This is not the place to recount my experiences of the war in Rhodesia. However, there were two incidents which illustrate the machiavellian nature of the intelligence trade.

In 1979, under British and American pressure, a settlement was being organised to end the war. The Rhodesian population - black and white - althoughwarweary, did not wantto see a sell--outtowhatthey saw as 'communism' a la Mozambique. (After the withdrawal of the Portugese forces, Mozambique had been taken over by FRELIMINO, led by Samora Machel. An economic collapse followed and it was no secret in Rhodesia that the people in Mozambique were starving.)

While the Prime Minister, Bishop Muzorewa, his cabinet and the armed forces made a great effort to present the agreement likely to emerge from the Lancaster House talks as acceptable, the big landowneis were talking ofrazing the country to the ground rather than hand the country over. After the Lancaster House agreement was signed, an election was to be held. It had been agreed -that all Rfiodesian security forces would be confined to banacks for three months, this being overseen by a monitoring force from the Commonwealth, who would set up assembly points in the bush to which all guerrillas, both inside and outside the country would report for this 3 month period. This, in theory, would enable the electorate to vote

without intimidation.

It was in this atmosphere that secret meetings were held in military establishments all over the country. Only Majors and above attended and the venues were guardedby armed soldiers' Bishop Muzorewa and the senior officers addressed the assembled offrcers and informed them that they should not worry about the approaching election becat'se a secret deal had been done with the British who were determined that

Rhodesia would not go Marxist. The Bishop claimed he had been assured by Mrs Thatcher that if the guerillas did not conform to the arrangements, the British would rig the election. I heard Bishop Muzorewa say this at the meeting held at 4 Brigade HQ at Fort Victoria. Muzorewa stood on the platform surrounded by the General Staff and assured the Rhodesians that he had complete faith in Mrs Thatcher's word. After the meeting was over I tried to convince my fellow officers that under no circumstances should the British be trusted, and for my efforts was carpeted by the Brigade Mqjor and told to hold my tongue. I do not know whether the Bishop had been deceived

by the British, and having been part of the conspiracy, was subsequently in no position to complain; or whether the Bishop and the General Staffwere lying to their offrcers to induce them to take part in the charade that followed; or whether the Bishop was telling the truth, and that there was an attempt to rig the election which failed' If the British lied to the Rhodesians, it might explain why General Walls, Joint Services Commander, felt he had the moral right to attempt to

organise a coup when the election results Mugabe's party - became known.

-

and the victory for Mr

The second event of which I have some knowledge concerned the attempt to kill Robert Mugabe while he was electioneering in the Fort victoria area. At this time we had the British Monitoring Force attached to the HQ. Just after lunch, while sitting in the mess talking with one of the British o1ficers, there was an almighty explosion close to the British HQ which was situated next to the military/civilian airport. Startled, ih" gtitittt officer said 'What on earth was that?'

Joiittgly, I replied 'Oh, just someone trving to blow up rylr Mu-sape'l Seconis iater as the mesi was vacated confirmation came through that this was indeed what had occurred. I immediately mobilised one of my

armoured ambulances and went to the scene. The explosion had occurred on the narrow road leading to the airstrip. 1000lbs of Russian explosives had been planted in aiulvertunderthe road, blowing a hole the size of two doubie decker buses. There was utter confusion as Mr Mugabe's bodyguards, suffering from shock, ran around pointing weapon"s and threalening people. Mr Mugabe himself, who had narrowly avoided death, had Gen rushed to the airstrip and put on a Viscount aircraft which was in the process of taking off. As it left the strip an army helicopter clung to its tail providing escort.

In the evening whqn I had time to go over the events of the day and had learned that the explosives had been remotely detonated, I recalled that a couple ofhours before the event I had seen a uniformed major in SAS em6ellishments in the HQ building. (The everyday-we3r uniform of the Rhodesian SAS was identical to that ofthe British SAS).

He was being briefed in the presence of both Rhodesian and British Monitoring force offrcers and I was asked to move away' I also knew that this SlS oflicer had taken offin a light aircraft and was over the scene of the explosion at the time of its detonation. The frring wire leading from tG explosives in a ditch terminated some 70 metres from tne roia and the p"rsott who detonated the explosives lad no line of sight to the road is his vision was obscured by bushes' (He was never calptured.) I suspect the SAS M4jor was an aerial observer of the MiigaUe convoy ginittg the command to fire to the man on the ground' The"combinatiln of these factors led me to speculate that both British and Rhodesians cHperated in this incident. whether this incident was intended to kill Mr Mugabe or merely frighten him, I don't know' Rhodesia was a kind of clearing ground for me, a breathing space'-I Utea tne white Rhodesians, juJt as I was very fond of the black Rhodesians with whom I had close acquaintance. The former were proud, stubborn people, but earthy, and coarse in a manner I found lrrgugirrg. I can certainly say they treated the black African population far"b6tte-r than most people realise. I can provide an example ofjust how this worked, in terms of a guerrilla war that was not without its parallels to the war in Ulster.

)

128

I

had a black African Sergeant Mqjor called Tosavepe Ghogo. He

10

came_to me one day and told me that his father, a village headman, had be_en beaten up by Rhodesian soldiers - a troop ofGrey Scouts, based at

Inkomo garrison. I made enquiries and found out which sub unit was involved. They had gone on a follow-up operation after some terrorists had visite_d the village to get food and rls[. The soldiers had questioned all the villagets, and beaten up Tosavepe's father quite badly in the process. I got Tosavepe to write a statement about all this and added o1e- g,f my own, and took them to my Brigadier, Brigadier Hoskins. I told him I had come from Northern Ireland where this sort of thing went on r.eguJarly, and eventually rather than achieve anything positive, it simply damaged the credibility and morale of ihe soldiers ordered to carry it out. Hoskins studied my reports, and immediatelv put out an order ofthe day, saying that ifany ofhis soldiers we"e evei found maltreating the local people, they would have to answer personally to him. He then got hold of the two offrcers in charge of tle unit which had descended on the village, and severely disciplined them. If I had tried anything like that in Ireland, it would have been me who ended up on a charge!

Obviously, I am not saying there were not a number of offensive racists among the white population and the system they lived under only served to bolster their prejudices. But I was told time and again when I was there that the mqjoritywere willingtochange; butthallan Smith and his government were determined not to lose-power through any kind of compromise. The peace settlement was forced upon their.

For my_own qart I continued to serve under the new regime, and retained my affection for the country itself, with its marvellous iandscape and wildlife, while prepared to serve the black political authorlty ju.st as I had the white. When I left, I did so with mixed feelings. I had done the jo! I had been asked to do, and had done it well. But-my appetite was whetted for my own battle at home. I had heard no *o"i about any inquiry into my allegations. And Icouldsee no future unless see justice done.

I took up the fight once more, to clear my name and

BATTLE LINES I- applied for a number of jobs on my return to England and was delighted to be accepted by Group Four (Total Security) as a Cash In Tbansit consultant. I moved to Essex and got on with my work. I wrote to the North Yorkshire police to find out exactly what, had happened

about the complaints they had promised me they would

see processed.

Eventually, on 11th January L982,I received an evasive letter from Assistant Chief Constable Burke, telling me that in fact my frle had been sent to the Commissioner of the Metropolitan police, New Scotland Yard. He merely suggested that I write to him to frnd out

what had been done.

I immediately suspected nothinghad been done at all. When I wrote to Mr McNee at New Scotland Yard, a printed card came back through the post telling me that my letter was'receiving attention'. I contacted a Detective Inspector Talbot on 19th March LIBZ tD ask about the delay, and he told me that, while he was handling my case, he refused to discuss it except to suggest that I would be wise to drop it. It was not something the police could cope with. It was really an Army matter. I contacted the Army again, and was promptly told that I should be dealing with the police. In other words, t o one wanted to touch it. I was back at square one.

I then lost my job at Group Four. I was in the offrce when a call came thlgugh from an oflicer in the Metropolitan Anti-Terrorist Squad, with,a message that was to be passed to my superiors. It was quite simple: I was a dangerous, disaffected ex-offrcer and could not be

trusted. I went to

see

my boss shortly afterwards. He asked me to leave,

saying-they cguli not afford to upset people in the Security Services since they relied on the goodwillof the police, especially in London.

They offered me ayear's salary,'condcience money'in lieuofnotice, but I refused to accept it. fp the event I put my trust again in the police themselves, albeit a different force. I went into the local police stltion in Southend and told them what had happened with Group Four, explained what had led to this, qnd repeated that the Army had told me it was a police matter. I asked them to take action on my behalf. I made unothe" long statement, reiterationg my allegations, and the details of my own treat-

ment, to two members of the Essex Special Branch.

128

I

had a black African Sergeant Mqjor called Tosavepe Ghogo. He

10

came_to me one day and told me that his father, a village headman, had be_en beaten up by Rhodesian soldiers - a troop ofGrey Scouts, based at

Inkomo garrison. I made enquiries and found out which sub unit was involved. They had gone on a follow-up operation after some terrorists had visite_d the village to get food and rls[. The soldiers had questioned all the villagets, and beaten up Tosavepe's father quite badly in the process. I got Tosavepe to write a statement about all this and added o1e- g,f my own, and took them to my Brigadier, Brigadier Hoskins. I told him I had come from Northern Ireland where this sort of thing went on r.eguJarly, and eventually rather than achieve anything positive, it simply damaged the credibility and morale of ihe soldiers ordered to carry it out. Hoskins studied my reports, and immediatelv put out an order ofthe day, saying that ifany ofhis soldiers we"e evei found maltreating the local people, they would have to answer personally to him. He then got hold of the two offrcers in charge of tle unit which had descended on the village, and severely disciplined them. If I had tried anything like that in Ireland, it would have been me who ended up on a charge!

Obviously, I am not saying there were not a number of offensive racists among the white population and the system they lived under only served to bolster their prejudices. But I was told time and again when I was there that the mqjoritywere willingtochange; butthallan Smith and his government were determined not to lose-power through any kind of compromise. The peace settlement was forced upon their.

For my_own qart I continued to serve under the new regime, and retained my affection for the country itself, with its marvellous iandscape and wildlife, while prepared to serve the black political authorlty ju.st as I had the white. When I left, I did so with mixed feelings. I had done the jo! I had been asked to do, and had done it well. But-my appetite was whetted for my own battle at home. I had heard no *o"i about any inquiry into my allegations. And Icouldsee no future unless see justice done.

I took up the fight once more, to clear my name and

BATTLE LINES I- applied for a number of jobs on my return to England and was delighted to be accepted by Group Four (Total Security) as a Cash In Tbansit consultant. I moved to Essex and got on with my work. I wrote to the North Yorkshire police to find out exactly what, had happened

about the complaints they had promised me they would

see processed.

Eventually, on 11th January L982,I received an evasive letter from Assistant Chief Constable Burke, telling me that in fact my frle had been sent to the Commissioner of the Metropolitan police, New Scotland Yard. He merely suggested that I write to him to frnd out

what had been done.

I immediately suspected nothinghad been done at all. When I wrote to Mr McNee at New Scotland Yard, a printed card came back through the post telling me that my letter was'receiving attention'. I contacted a Detective Inspector Talbot on 19th March LIBZ tD ask about the delay, and he told me that, while he was handling my case, he refused to discuss it except to suggest that I would be wise to drop it. It was not something the police could cope with. It was really an Army matter. I contacted the Army again, and was promptly told that I should be dealing with the police. In other words, t o one wanted to touch it. I was back at square one.

I then lost my job at Group Four. I was in the offrce when a call came thlgugh from an oflicer in the Metropolitan Anti-Terrorist Squad, with,a message that was to be passed to my superiors. It was quite simple: I was a dangerous, disaffected ex-offrcer and could not be

trusted. I went to

see

my boss shortly afterwards. He asked me to leave,

saying-they cguli not afford to upset people in the Security Services since they relied on the goodwillof the police, especially in London.

They offered me ayear's salary,'condcience money'in lieuofnotice, but I refused to accept it. fp the event I put my trust again in the police themselves, albeit a different force. I went into the local police stltion in Southend and told them what had happened with Group Four, explained what had led to this, qnd repeated that the Army had told me it was a police matter. I asked them to take action on my behalf. I made unothe" long statement, reiterationg my allegations, and the details of my own treat-

ment, to two members of the Essex Special Branch.

130

About a week later, they contacted me to tell me that Chief Constable Bunyard had come under pressure from MIb not to take up my case. In response, he had asked for someone from the security service to come down and talk to me personally. If this was not done,-he would pass my material onto the RUC, where it should have gone in the first place, since the offences took place in their area.

In fact, no one from MI5 came to see me, and Bunyard could get no pggran_cgjhat anyone would. As a result, he p"ocessed my compfaints to the RUC. For the first time, and when I least expected it, so'meone was acting honourably on my behalf. But how far lhe RUC would be prepared to take matters I could only wonder.

What seemed like a strange coincidence happened then. In the previous year, Sir George Terry ofthe Sussex police had headed an investigation into the Kincora Boy's Home, and the scandals surroundir_ts it. I had known little about it at the time. My only connection with Kincora when I was in Ireland was a reference I had made in my police notebooks about rumours circulating that several leading proiestant politicians were using it for homoseiual practices. shortl! after I had last spokenwith Essex police I was visited by a Captain in the Royal Military Police Special Investigation Branch. Naturally, I thought he had come about my case so I invited him in. I began to burlte on"about it, when he stopped me and told me it was the KincoraBoys'Home he wanted to talk about - did I have any relevant information? I was taken aback by this, but I ferreted through my notebooks and showed him what I had written. Then I returnea to tfre subject of my case. t Rlayed the Captain the tape Bunny Dearsley had left me when he quit-the province, which made reference to cormption within the RUC while speaking about the sources he was haniing over. My vistor repeated ttlat his brief was on Kincora, but that he was rrery intrigued and would return again with a policeman. When he came back, hJwas accompanied by an Inspector of the RUC. He too had been involved in the.Kincora ingrliry the year before. But that was not why he came to visit me now. I frnd it interesting that whenever Sir George Terry is questioned on the matter, he says that there *.. ,r"rrei any link between the security forces and ihe homosexual vice ring ceitered around Kincora. Yet I was visited by two o{ficers, both of rihom were involved in investigating Kincora, quizzing me what I knew about it, at the same time as they were looking into my allegations of dirty

tricks.

The connections between those people who were involved in Kincora andthose who subsequently dealtwith me became evenmore apparent as the months went on. Once the RUC had offrcially .eceived my complaints from Essex police and were forced to address them, they selected a team to talk to me. What I didn't know at the time was that these same three men were visiting Colin Wallace in Lewes prsion to investigate a completely different set of allegations which nonetheless dovetailed with mine. Had I known about them, the whole process of

131

investigation could have been stepped up a gear, as it was later though not by the authorities themselves.

As it was, I continued to feel isolated and frustrated, and began to suspect that the RUC team were simply milking me for everything I knew, without doing a thing about my allegations. They would make remarks like, 'Fred, you don't really want to prove this do you?'or'He believed in what he was doing at the time'. One by one, they were trying to make me drop the charges I had made. After eighteen months ofgetting nowhere both the Essex police and I had little confidence lefb in the effectiveness of the RUC inquiry.

Not long after the team had first come to see me, they had taken me over to Ulster, and installed me at RUC HQ Knock for a week, so that they could debrief me at leisure. I cooperated fully with them. But once I had done this they made sure that all the loose ends I had unravelled were firmly tied up, and all the witnesses told to keep their mouths shut. Far more sinister than this was the fact uncovered byjournalists that MI5 itself stepped in to make sure that anything the inquiry mught turn up should be conveniently overlooked. Bernard Sheldon, (referred to in Parliament as Bernard'X') was MI5's'legal advisor'and reported to the Security Service Director General Sir John Jones.

Sheldon approached the MOD at this time to ask for their assistance in having the RUC investigation blocked, if such beeame necessary. The Ministry had claimed to set up their own inquiry into the dirty tricks campaign, which if they were telling the truth produced no public results whatever. But they were reluctant to cooperate with Sheldon and MI5. Sheldon then went directly to the Northern Ireland Office, which ordered Sir Jack Hermon to make sure that any investigation was curtailed, in the interests ofthe safety ofagents still at work in Ulster, an entirely spurious reason. I also learned that Clive Ponting, as a legal officer from MOD attended a meeting at Whitehall where it was generally conceded that my allegations were true and steps to prevent the press taking up the case were discussed. The meeting was chaired by Mr Tony Stephens, who had been the Director of the Army Legal Services when I tried to frght my case in the Army. Between them, the RUC, the Army, MI5 and its political masters, made sure that none of my allegations was addressed in the normal manner. I had

got my so--called 'inquiry'- and little good it had done.

There were some of those in the Essex police who saw what was happening, and who shared my view on the whole business. One night, during the course of this charade, a small number came to my house, and told me they thought I was being hoodwinked. They were not able to approach me officially, but they had come privately to suggest that I go to see one of two journalists, and have the thing blown wide open.

The first was a man called Chris Ryder, and the other Duncan Campbell. They recommended the latter, since, whenever the Essex police were sent on certain courses, Campbell was always portrayed as a dangerous left-wingjournalist, who was prepared to uncover corrup-

130

About a week later, they contacted me to tell me that Chief Constable Bunyard had come under pressure from MIb not to take up my case. In response, he had asked for someone from the security service to come down and talk to me personally. If this was not done,-he would pass my material onto the RUC, where it should have gone in the first place, since the offences took place in their area.

In fact, no one from MI5 came to see me, and Bunyard could get no pggran_cgjhat anyone would. As a result, he p"ocessed my compfaints to the RUC. For the first time, and when I least expected it, so'meone was acting honourably on my behalf. But how far lhe RUC would be prepared to take matters I could only wonder.

What seemed like a strange coincidence happened then. In the previous year, Sir George Terry ofthe Sussex police had headed an investigation into the Kincora Boy's Home, and the scandals surroundir_ts it. I had known little about it at the time. My only connection with Kincora when I was in Ireland was a reference I had made in my police notebooks about rumours circulating that several leading proiestant politicians were using it for homoseiual practices. shortl! after I had last spokenwith Essex police I was visited by a Captain in the Royal Military Police Special Investigation Branch. Naturally, I thought he had come about my case so I invited him in. I began to burlte on"about it, when he stopped me and told me it was the KincoraBoys'Home he wanted to talk about - did I have any relevant information? I was taken aback by this, but I ferreted through my notebooks and showed him what I had written. Then I returnea to tfre subject of my case. t Rlayed the Captain the tape Bunny Dearsley had left me when he quit-the province, which made reference to cormption within the RUC while speaking about the sources he was haniing over. My vistor repeated ttlat his brief was on Kincora, but that he was rrery intrigued and would return again with a policeman. When he came back, hJwas accompanied by an Inspector of the RUC. He too had been involved in the.Kincora ingrliry the year before. But that was not why he came to visit me now. I frnd it interesting that whenever Sir George Terry is questioned on the matter, he says that there *.. ,r"rrei any link between the security forces and ihe homosexual vice ring ceitered around Kincora. Yet I was visited by two o{ficers, both of rihom were involved in investigating Kincora, quizzing me what I knew about it, at the same time as they were looking into my allegations of dirty

tricks.

The connections between those people who were involved in Kincora andthose who subsequently dealtwith me became evenmore apparent as the months went on. Once the RUC had offrcially .eceived my complaints from Essex police and were forced to address them, they selected a team to talk to me. What I didn't know at the time was that these same three men were visiting Colin Wallace in Lewes prsion to investigate a completely different set of allegations which nonetheless dovetailed with mine. Had I known about them, the whole process of

131

investigation could have been stepped up a gear, as it was later though not by the authorities themselves.

As it was, I continued to feel isolated and frustrated, and began to suspect that the RUC team were simply milking me for everything I knew, without doing a thing about my allegations. They would make remarks like, 'Fred, you don't really want to prove this do you?'or'He believed in what he was doing at the time'. One by one, they were trying to make me drop the charges I had made. After eighteen months ofgetting nowhere both the Essex police and I had little confidence lefb in the effectiveness of the RUC inquiry.

Not long after the team had first come to see me, they had taken me over to Ulster, and installed me at RUC HQ Knock for a week, so that they could debrief me at leisure. I cooperated fully with them. But once I had done this they made sure that all the loose ends I had unravelled were firmly tied up, and all the witnesses told to keep their mouths shut. Far more sinister than this was the fact uncovered byjournalists that MI5 itself stepped in to make sure that anything the inquiry mught turn up should be conveniently overlooked. Bernard Sheldon, (referred to in Parliament as Bernard'X') was MI5's'legal advisor'and reported to the Security Service Director General Sir John Jones.

Sheldon approached the MOD at this time to ask for their assistance in having the RUC investigation blocked, if such beeame necessary. The Ministry had claimed to set up their own inquiry into the dirty tricks campaign, which if they were telling the truth produced no public results whatever. But they were reluctant to cooperate with Sheldon and MI5. Sheldon then went directly to the Northern Ireland Office, which ordered Sir Jack Hermon to make sure that any investigation was curtailed, in the interests ofthe safety ofagents still at work in Ulster, an entirely spurious reason. I also learned that Clive Ponting, as a legal officer from MOD attended a meeting at Whitehall where it was generally conceded that my allegations were true and steps to prevent the press taking up the case were discussed. The meeting was chaired by Mr Tony Stephens, who had been the Director of the Army Legal Services when I tried to frght my case in the Army. Between them, the RUC, the Army, MI5 and its political masters, made sure that none of my allegations was addressed in the normal manner. I had

got my so--called 'inquiry'- and little good it had done.

There were some of those in the Essex police who saw what was happening, and who shared my view on the whole business. One night, during the course of this charade, a small number came to my house, and told me they thought I was being hoodwinked. They were not able to approach me officially, but they had come privately to suggest that I go to see one of two journalists, and have the thing blown wide open.

The first was a man called Chris Ryder, and the other Duncan Campbell. They recommended the latter, since, whenever the Essex police were sent on certain courses, Campbell was always portrayed as a dangerous left-wingjournalist, who was prepared to uncover corrup-

133

132

tion without fear of the @rrsequences' They left me with this advice' I wrote two letters the following day. I can only be grateful that Chris Ryder was away at the time. For various reagons I don't think anything w-ould have come from working with him, but Duncan Campbell replied immediately and ananged for us to meet.

As soon as I got the chance to tell him my story, he told me that.it fittedwith a lot ofthingshe had already learnedfromothersources. As a result, he was personally prepared to undertake an in-depth investigation that would put the sham efforts of the RUC in a real perspective' ican't say that I was happy to have to resort to this kind oftactic, but I had exhaust€d all the oflicial channels by now. The only course available to me was to carry out the threat I had made before I went to Rhodesia: that unless the authorities dealt with my case, I would have gone to the Press. In Duncan Campbell Ihadfoundsomeonewhowould have no qualms about making t,l.at threat effective. It ryas-an uneasy alliance, politically, but it was one of the best I had ever had' Duncan duly went across to Ulster, and started asking questions' In spite of warnings from the authorities many witnes"el-dlq "oT" forward. Not only was he able to substantiate what I told him, he

unearthed a large ne*r atea ofevidence on other offences carried out at the same time.

In February 1984, while working on my allegatione, fhrncan was knocked offLis Uicycle while riding through central lrcndon. He was taken to hospital with head wounds. Documents from his nannigrg were seized under the Offrcial Secrets Act and his home was raided while he lay in his hospital bed. I found this an extraordinary coincidence.

The three main articles based on my material were publistred in the

New Stateman in the spring of that year. To coincide with their publication, a documentary television progranrme was broadcast by

Reports on Channel 4. The propaganda machine went ou!c\']1' into work on this side of the Irish Sea, and once the results of the RUC inquiry werc made known (which concluded there was insufficient

biu""""

evidence to warrant initiation of criminal proceedings against any person), I realised that now, more ttran ever,I should have to hold frrm io my conviction that I was doing the right thing, and not lose sight of my original motives. The fight went on.

It did so chiefly on two fronts. The first, and ultimately less productive, concerned the reaction in the Republic oflreland to the Diverse Reports programme and the articles themselves. Ttre Irish Ambassador to Britaitt, Noel Don, declared 'it is simply not acceptable that there should be security forces of any other state operating within our jurisdiction'.

In Dublin itself, an internal Garda inquiry was.set in -motion my allegations about cross-border activity in particular. into Dan Murphy, Hubert Reynolds, and Jack The committee never called to give evidence before it. Nothing was Hennessy. I was"o*prised

made public. In effect it died a death, but it showed at least that now I had resorted to the media, people on both sides of the water would be forced to.make public gestures of concern, even if that was all they were.. Quite why the Gar{a inquiry of 1g84 met such a fate, I can only surmise. But certainly, the Padger was capable of implicatinC very senior officers. It would hardly hive been in thelr interlsts to b-e seen working with the British in such an underhand manner.

More importantly, was the effect of the New Statesman articles had on a particular prisoner serving a ten year jail sentence for manslaughter in Lewes Prison, Susiex. The-magazine received a letter which in the normal course of events would have been treated like so many others that were received at that time and banished to the 'nrrtter' file, if Duncan campbell had not chanced to read it to me on one of my visits to the offices. As soon as I heard what colin wallace had to

say, I realised he knew what he was talking about. He had been working for the Army's 'psy-+ps'unit throughout tne time I had been serving in Ireland, and wrote that he too hadi welter of information on

what was being done in ulster by the security forces and the Intelligence agencies. I decided at once to go to visit him, to hear his story,

and frnd.outjust what he was doing serving such a long sentence at Her Majesty's pleasure. within half an hour ofour meeting, both colin and I realised that the three RUC men who had been visiting both of us during ttte *or"e ol their inquiry, without telling either o-f the other's existJnce, traa Ueen involved in a cover up. It was not simply the details of my case but the whole issue of Kincora, and the connections with the Goiernment and the security forces, the police - uncle Tom cobley and all! tuo"e trt"" that, it was how the dirty tricks in ulster connected with the activities ofthe Far Right in this countr5r-how sections ofMlb were at the centre ofan extraordinary abuse ofpower and disregard for the law. IfI had

been confused until now about just how I had become a victim of what o1 1n the province, Colin Wallace cleared my mind. So many thins.s fell into place that I wondered how I had not foen tttem as ttr"! were before. Like Duncan Campbell, he was able to complement whati knew, and set it in the wider political context.

On that first meeting, Colin Wallace was also able to remindmethat we had, in fact, come across one another once before. He asked me if I remembered a man in a UDR uniform who hadcome into MqjorKeith Farnes' office at HQNI, one day when we were holding a rieeting somewhat younger looking, inevitably, but recognisable-neverthelJss. Once he had mentioned it, I did recall seeing him-, since I had taken the gniform at face value, and clammed up. \Me didn't trust the UDR. Farnes had told me not to worry, Wallace was ,one of us'. Now I was sitting with himin prison, discussing how we had both been ,shafted', and how we could best pool our resouices to continue to fight back.

ygnt

133

132

tion without fear of the @rrsequences' They left me with this advice' I wrote two letters the following day. I can only be grateful that Chris Ryder was away at the time. For various reagons I don't think anything w-ould have come from working with him, but Duncan Campbell replied immediately and ananged for us to meet.

As soon as I got the chance to tell him my story, he told me that.it fittedwith a lot ofthingshe had already learnedfromothersources. As a result, he was personally prepared to undertake an in-depth investigation that would put the sham efforts of the RUC in a real perspective' ican't say that I was happy to have to resort to this kind oftactic, but I had exhaust€d all the oflicial channels by now. The only course available to me was to carry out the threat I had made before I went to Rhodesia: that unless the authorities dealt with my case, I would have gone to the Press. In Duncan Campbell Ihadfoundsomeonewhowould have no qualms about making t,l.at threat effective. It ryas-an uneasy alliance, politically, but it was one of the best I had ever had' Duncan duly went across to Ulster, and started asking questions' In spite of warnings from the authorities many witnes"el-dlq "oT" forward. Not only was he able to substantiate what I told him, he

unearthed a large ne*r atea ofevidence on other offences carried out at the same time.

In February 1984, while working on my allegatione, fhrncan was knocked offLis Uicycle while riding through central lrcndon. He was taken to hospital with head wounds. Documents from his nannigrg were seized under the Offrcial Secrets Act and his home was raided while he lay in his hospital bed. I found this an extraordinary coincidence.

The three main articles based on my material were publistred in the

New Stateman in the spring of that year. To coincide with their publication, a documentary television progranrme was broadcast by

Reports on Channel 4. The propaganda machine went ou!c\']1' into work on this side of the Irish Sea, and once the results of the RUC inquiry werc made known (which concluded there was insufficient

biu""""

evidence to warrant initiation of criminal proceedings against any person), I realised that now, more ttran ever,I should have to hold frrm io my conviction that I was doing the right thing, and not lose sight of my original motives. The fight went on.

It did so chiefly on two fronts. The first, and ultimately less productive, concerned the reaction in the Republic oflreland to the Diverse Reports programme and the articles themselves. Ttre Irish Ambassador to Britaitt, Noel Don, declared 'it is simply not acceptable that there should be security forces of any other state operating within our jurisdiction'.

In Dublin itself, an internal Garda inquiry was.set in -motion my allegations about cross-border activity in particular. into Dan Murphy, Hubert Reynolds, and Jack The committee never called to give evidence before it. Nothing was Hennessy. I was"o*prised

made public. In effect it died a death, but it showed at least that now I had resorted to the media, people on both sides of the water would be forced to.make public gestures of concern, even if that was all they were.. Quite why the Gar{a inquiry of 1g84 met such a fate, I can only surmise. But certainly, the Padger was capable of implicatinC very senior officers. It would hardly hive been in thelr interlsts to b-e seen working with the British in such an underhand manner.

More importantly, was the effect of the New Statesman articles had on a particular prisoner serving a ten year jail sentence for manslaughter in Lewes Prison, Susiex. The-magazine received a letter which in the normal course of events would have been treated like so many others that were received at that time and banished to the 'nrrtter' file, if Duncan campbell had not chanced to read it to me on one of my visits to the offices. As soon as I heard what colin wallace had to

say, I realised he knew what he was talking about. He had been working for the Army's 'psy-+ps'unit throughout tne time I had been serving in Ireland, and wrote that he too hadi welter of information on

what was being done in ulster by the security forces and the Intelligence agencies. I decided at once to go to visit him, to hear his story,

and frnd.outjust what he was doing serving such a long sentence at Her Majesty's pleasure. within half an hour ofour meeting, both colin and I realised that the three RUC men who had been visiting both of us during ttte *or"e ol their inquiry, without telling either o-f the other's existJnce, traa Ueen involved in a cover up. It was not simply the details of my case but the whole issue of Kincora, and the connections with the Goiernment and the security forces, the police - uncle Tom cobley and all! tuo"e trt"" that, it was how the dirty tricks in ulster connected with the activities ofthe Far Right in this countr5r-how sections ofMlb were at the centre ofan extraordinary abuse ofpower and disregard for the law. IfI had

been confused until now about just how I had become a victim of what o1 1n the province, Colin Wallace cleared my mind. So many thins.s fell into place that I wondered how I had not foen tttem as ttr"! were before. Like Duncan Campbell, he was able to complement whati knew, and set it in the wider political context.

On that first meeting, Colin Wallace was also able to remindmethat we had, in fact, come across one another once before. He asked me if I remembered a man in a UDR uniform who hadcome into MqjorKeith Farnes' office at HQNI, one day when we were holding a rieeting somewhat younger looking, inevitably, but recognisable-neverthelJss. Once he had mentioned it, I did recall seeing him-, since I had taken the gniform at face value, and clammed up. \Me didn't trust the UDR. Farnes had told me not to worry, Wallace was ,one of us'. Now I was sitting with himin prison, discussing how we had both been ,shafted', and how we could best pool our resouices to continue to fight back.

ygnt

TOP: Colin Wallace (fifth from right) described by Northern Ireland Secretary Merlyn Rees as a'filing clerk' revealed in a rather difl'erent status. tsELOW: Reunited with my

after Rhodesia, 1981.

A senior

member of IRD (Infbrmation Research Department) attached to HQNI, who worked closely with MI5.

"hild.".t

TOP: Colin Wallace (fifth from right) described by Northern Ireland Secretary Merlyn Rees as a'filing clerk' revealed in a rather difl'erent status. tsELOW: Reunited with my

after Rhodesia, 1981.

A senior

member of IRD (Infbrmation Research Department) attached to HQNI, who worked closely with MI5.

"hild.".t

137

136

There were countless areas where our information overlapped. Colin had known a lot about the planning side of operations: he had been ordered to p/oduce various statements for the press to cover things up in public. I was able to tell him what had actually happened on the ground. In all, there were three main fields we could cover between us.

First, the formation of the killer gangs, and the other ad hoc units formed to carry out criminal actions. Second, the homosexual vice ring at Kincora which had for many years been ignored by the RUC, and used by British Intelligence to blackmail certain key figures in Ulster politics. Third, the campaign against Harold Wilson and the Labour Party which included the dissemination of bogus literature. I began to see that my own piece of the jigsaw was relatively small when I heard what Colin had to say. But I realised that once it was connected with these others, it took on a whole new dimension.

I had a problem, however. Colin Wallace had been convicted of manslaughter. I believed him when he protested his innocence, and assured me he had been the victim of a set up. But I had to be absolutely sure this was the case, or I could risk losing all the hard fought ground I had won. I went to the New Stateman and spoke to Duncan Campbell.

He arranged for the magazine to pay my expenses to go down and look into the murder conviction, and find out if it was a miscarriage of justice or not. I had the time to do this now. During the @urse of these events I had applied for another job, as Security Manager at Marks and Spencer's Oxford Street store, and offered the post. I had told Essex police to watch closely to see if I was interfered with. I was careful not to put a foot wrong. But it so happened that the Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, was due to visit the store one morning. As Security Manager, I naturally assumed I would be a central part of the security planning. In fact, I was asked into the Personnel Manager's offrce the day before and told I should not come into work at all that morning.

Instead, I should go and check the security on premises some miles away. I asked why I was being got out of the way, but I received no satisfactory answer. I refused to do exactly what I was asked, and actually turned up an hour or two before Mrs Thatcher appeared, to make sure my MI5 friends knew that they could not simply push me around. Perhaps it was a stupid gesture. But I needed to make it. The following day I was informed that the post I held would no longer exist, and again I was offered a year's salary in lieu ofnotice. I refused the money, as I had with Group Four, explaining that I knew exactly why I was losing the job. No comment was made, I was simply asked to leave immediately. Essex police were forced to believe me when I told them what was being done to me. Once more, I was out of work, and unlikely to get any now. At least it made sure I could address Colin Wallace's case with all my attention.

When I gotto Arundel -where Colinwas supposed to have murdered his alleged lover's husband, Jonathan Lewis - I set to work. I traced the course of the murder, the route Colin was meant to have taken his car,

the scene by the river where he was meant to have dumped the victim's body, the route to his home, and so on. And I realised the killing simply could not have happened as the police had described it. I got hold ofall the evidence produced in court, along with other statements various witnesses had made during the course of the case - and I found that these had been carefully changed by the time they were submitted to the judge and jury. They bore all the signs of coaching: four cleaning ladies suddenly using language they wouldn't normally use, police expressions creeping in where they didn't belong. I could gee where the evidence had been manipulated.

I then checked Colin's story, as he had given it to the court. And it all made sense. He had left, a dinner engagement on the night of the murder, saying he had stomach trouble, which I can vouchsafe that he suffers to this day. He did go home for an hour, and he was in the places he said he had been. Jonathan Lewis's movements, however, were by no means so straightforward. If the real story was to be believed, then these had to be properly traced.

Once I had done enough work to realise that Colin was almost certainly telling the truth, I decided to test out our mutual 'conspiracy theory'by goingdirectly to the police who had been involved in the case and seeing what reaction I got. When I walked into Arundel police station, I spoke to a woman at the desk, and told her I was looking into the'It's A Knockout'murder, as Colin's case was known locally. Would it be at all possible to speak to the investigating officers, Superintendent Harrison and Detective Constable Kent. She agreed to ring through to HQ to see if she could contact them. I heard her say, 'I've got a gentleman here called Mr Hohoyd who . . 'and repeat my request.

By this time, I had only been in Arundel a couple ofdays, and made my presenoe known to as few people as possible. I was utterly convinced, then, when she came back to me that the conspiraey theory was

justifred. 'Mqjor Holroyd', she said, 'Superintendent Harrison says he'll be here in twenty minutes.' I had said nothing to her about my rank in any Army - and I was known publicly only

as

Captain Holroyd,

since I had achieved the rank of M4jor solely in the Rhodesian forces. It was quite clear that Harrison had been briefed about me, and knew exactly what I was doing in Arundel, though I had never seen, nor heard ofhim before.

I spent over twenty minutes with the two policemen. Kent took down everything that was said. I gave the excuse that I ctid not want to be associated with Colin Wallace if he was indeed a murderer, and could they tell me exactly what had happened in the case. Harrison misled me on a number of iseues. If anything would convince me of Colin's innocence, that interview did the trick. I felt quite free to ally my cause with his. I would endeavour to unearth some evidence that would prove he was the victim of a miscarriage ofjustice, the motives forwhich now seemed no less sinister to me than those involved in the blighting of my own career.

137

136

There were countless areas where our information overlapped. Colin had known a lot about the planning side of operations: he had been ordered to p/oduce various statements for the press to cover things up in public. I was able to tell him what had actually happened on the ground. In all, there were three main fields we could cover between us.

First, the formation of the killer gangs, and the other ad hoc units formed to carry out criminal actions. Second, the homosexual vice ring at Kincora which had for many years been ignored by the RUC, and used by British Intelligence to blackmail certain key figures in Ulster politics. Third, the campaign against Harold Wilson and the Labour Party which included the dissemination of bogus literature. I began to see that my own piece of the jigsaw was relatively small when I heard what Colin had to say. But I realised that once it was connected with these others, it took on a whole new dimension.

I had a problem, however. Colin Wallace had been convicted of manslaughter. I believed him when he protested his innocence, and assured me he had been the victim of a set up. But I had to be absolutely sure this was the case, or I could risk losing all the hard fought ground I had won. I went to the New Stateman and spoke to Duncan Campbell.

He arranged for the magazine to pay my expenses to go down and look into the murder conviction, and find out if it was a miscarriage of justice or not. I had the time to do this now. During the @urse of these events I had applied for another job, as Security Manager at Marks and Spencer's Oxford Street store, and offered the post. I had told Essex police to watch closely to see if I was interfered with. I was careful not to put a foot wrong. But it so happened that the Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, was due to visit the store one morning. As Security Manager, I naturally assumed I would be a central part of the security planning. In fact, I was asked into the Personnel Manager's offrce the day before and told I should not come into work at all that morning.

Instead, I should go and check the security on premises some miles away. I asked why I was being got out of the way, but I received no satisfactory answer. I refused to do exactly what I was asked, and actually turned up an hour or two before Mrs Thatcher appeared, to make sure my MI5 friends knew that they could not simply push me around. Perhaps it was a stupid gesture. But I needed to make it. The following day I was informed that the post I held would no longer exist, and again I was offered a year's salary in lieu ofnotice. I refused the money, as I had with Group Four, explaining that I knew exactly why I was losing the job. No comment was made, I was simply asked to leave immediately. Essex police were forced to believe me when I told them what was being done to me. Once more, I was out of work, and unlikely to get any now. At least it made sure I could address Colin Wallace's case with all my attention.

When I gotto Arundel -where Colinwas supposed to have murdered his alleged lover's husband, Jonathan Lewis - I set to work. I traced the course of the murder, the route Colin was meant to have taken his car,

the scene by the river where he was meant to have dumped the victim's body, the route to his home, and so on. And I realised the killing simply could not have happened as the police had described it. I got hold ofall the evidence produced in court, along with other statements various witnesses had made during the course of the case - and I found that these had been carefully changed by the time they were submitted to the judge and jury. They bore all the signs of coaching: four cleaning ladies suddenly using language they wouldn't normally use, police expressions creeping in where they didn't belong. I could gee where the evidence had been manipulated.

I then checked Colin's story, as he had given it to the court. And it all made sense. He had left, a dinner engagement on the night of the murder, saying he had stomach trouble, which I can vouchsafe that he suffers to this day. He did go home for an hour, and he was in the places he said he had been. Jonathan Lewis's movements, however, were by no means so straightforward. If the real story was to be believed, then these had to be properly traced.

Once I had done enough work to realise that Colin was almost certainly telling the truth, I decided to test out our mutual 'conspiracy theory'by goingdirectly to the police who had been involved in the case and seeing what reaction I got. When I walked into Arundel police station, I spoke to a woman at the desk, and told her I was looking into the'It's A Knockout'murder, as Colin's case was known locally. Would it be at all possible to speak to the investigating officers, Superintendent Harrison and Detective Constable Kent. She agreed to ring through to HQ to see if she could contact them. I heard her say, 'I've got a gentleman here called Mr Hohoyd who . . 'and repeat my request.

By this time, I had only been in Arundel a couple ofdays, and made my presenoe known to as few people as possible. I was utterly convinced, then, when she came back to me that the conspiraey theory was

justifred. 'Mqjor Holroyd', she said, 'Superintendent Harrison says he'll be here in twenty minutes.' I had said nothing to her about my rank in any Army - and I was known publicly only

as

Captain Holroyd,

since I had achieved the rank of M4jor solely in the Rhodesian forces. It was quite clear that Harrison had been briefed about me, and knew exactly what I was doing in Arundel, though I had never seen, nor heard ofhim before.

I spent over twenty minutes with the two policemen. Kent took down everything that was said. I gave the excuse that I ctid not want to be associated with Colin Wallace if he was indeed a murderer, and could they tell me exactly what had happened in the case. Harrison misled me on a number of iseues. If anything would convince me of Colin's innocence, that interview did the trick. I felt quite free to ally my cause with his. I would endeavour to unearth some evidence that would prove he was the victim of a miscarriage ofjustice, the motives forwhich now seemed no less sinister to me than those involved in the blighting of my own career.

139

138

was some months before I found this evidence. In the meantime had been another of c;i" [;J l"ld me that superintendent Harrison Hehad actually Kincora. into inquiry Terry inthe ifr" offr*""i"volved piece g""" t ulster, with his superior. To him, it was just another the about pointed allegations ""* very making was Colin 8i1ftu:Gtt*. invotverient of the security forces in the boys'home, which concerned un [i"a" of bribery and corruption. What could be more inevitable affair, and found t1|f fi;t ;h" policJ offices who had inquired into the were also resporrhis allegations, to support no evidence *rs it ttr"r" "t p"tting him away for ten years, and ruining his reputation? ritf"lot I am certain colin wallace did not murder Jonathan Lewis. During i" Arundel, I traced a key witness, a barmaid who had been at the very time_he "r;;i;; ;;rfi;; i., u to"at pub and seen the murder victim car. I did this Colin's of boot in the unconscious lying uffZg"afy *u. journalist, author, who and *itnlt L"rr"ti or;i- campbell, another to it in a chapter whole a devoted and case, colin's into ro"xi"s *., (Gatefever). prison life with dealing book he pub"lished soon afterwards she had defrnitely itt" Uuti".ia told us, without any prompting, thatwith another man, ,"u" i"*i, on the evening in question, drinking because he was *t. *", ""t Colin Walhcd She remarked upon Lewis, for him, since he alwavg ;;;"G smart clothes which was unusualpub.

She also'remembered *"r" l.-"""t.lothes when he came into the ;il;;ili""t.r evening accurately because it was the frrrst night she had worked with a new barman' I was able to frnd out that Jonathan Lewis had got those clothes out oflhe dry--cleaners on the day he died, and-was wearing them that wife found the drv;;;;id,:"tt as the barmaid said he was' His jackel h35 nsvsl he.en The missing. went he ;b";i;d ii.tut, after ."""""rEa. Nor'has the man Lewis wai talking to been traced' The p"ii* i"t"t"iewed this witness before the case came to court, but thenit claiming [i.-ir*a t "r recollection of the date she had seen Lewis, as no difference, made ticket dry-<leaning The occasion. was an earlier far as they were concerned; nor Lewis's wife's recollection ofjust how the plastic bag had been left lying on the bed, with the hanger on top'

It

Onecanonlyconcludethattheydidnotwanttoadmitthetruth:

cross that of Jonathan Lewis's at the time murdered. was he the evening stated on ignored crucial evidence, and determinedly they how saw l When to make sure ('olin rvas prosecut.d'.then I no* ift"y ftud been .u "og"t case as firmly as my own, until such tim,e *.. a"t""*ined to press-his I gained access to all uJ" *ur at libertt'to do the sanrt,. lhrough this,deeply than before in his material. And so I became involved far more links to a their and services, the activities ofthe British Intelligence particular brand of Politics.

coti., w"tta"eis path did not

DuringlgSSandlg36Itoutedbulgingbriefcasesof'materialround I'leet Stieet, trying to reach a wider audience than Channel 4' or the

New Statesman had been able to. But, while many people showed interest, no one appeared to be willing to stick their neck out.

Admittedly, this was before Peter Wright's Spycatcher had been published. Bu[ it is my opinion that the newspapers were simply unwilling

to accept my allegations when I was visiting their offrces owing to what I call '[he Netley factor'. However, I am sure what I had to tell them paved the way for the kind ofreaction which ensued when Spycatcher did eventually appear, and supported much ofwhat Colin in particular had been saying.

Of course, when the Stalker Affair blew up, the jigsaw became more involved than ever. Ijust wish that someone had been prepared to take

on our story before the authorities had been able to muster their

defences and manage to divert as much public attention as they could from the real issues by mal'.ing it all a matter of injunctions, and personalities. What people will remember most about John Stalker is the fact that he was cruelly'smeared'- not the murders he was sent to Ulster to investigate. Spycatcher will always be primarily the book they tried to ban, rather than the book which gave a genuine insight into what the Security Service in this country is capable of. It is the matter, not the appearance, or the way in facts of the case that

it is presented to the public. I know that the British Army arranged to have Seamus Grew kidnapped in 1974. John Stalker knew that Seamus Grew was murdered in 1982. It is absurd to even pretend that there is no connection between the two events. The British public should know what it is, and exactly what it is a sympton of, for both acts were carried out in their name.

While the Press seemed reluctant to help Colin and me, there were others who helped us along - some wittingly, some unwittingly - and, during these years, far from disappearing from the scene, we made our presence felt. Colin had written a number of letters to his MP without getting any joy, so I added my voice, with its somewhat more raucous tone. The result was that towards the end of 1985, the Tory MP Teddy Taylor got in touch with me, prompted by his rather embarrassed colleague. I was not actually Taylor's constituent - he represented Southend East, and I livedjust over the edge ofhis constituencey - but he seemed concerned to listen to what I had to say. One morning he came to my door and asked to speak to me, saying he had been requested to look into the matter. I replied that Paul Channon was my MP, and I was not sure that it was ethical to speak to him. But he insisted that in certain circumstances the niceties could be waived, and, anyway he was sure Mr Channon would not object if he reduced which

his workload by intervening personally. I then invited him in and asked him if he would like to see my files. He declined, stating that he knew the details of my case already, but he oflered to help me.

Mr Taylor invited me to his surgery every Saturday morning, when we would continue to discuss events. I was surprised, but happy to make full use of his assistance to resolve my legal battle.

139

138

was some months before I found this evidence. In the meantime had been another of c;i" [;J l"ld me that superintendent Harrison Hehad actually Kincora. into inquiry Terry inthe ifr" offr*""i"volved piece g""" t ulster, with his superior. To him, it was just another the about pointed allegations ""* very making was Colin 8i1ftu:Gtt*. invotverient of the security forces in the boys'home, which concerned un [i"a" of bribery and corruption. What could be more inevitable affair, and found t1|f fi;t ;h" policJ offices who had inquired into the were also resporrhis allegations, to support no evidence *rs it ttr"r" "t p"tting him away for ten years, and ruining his reputation? ritf"lot I am certain colin wallace did not murder Jonathan Lewis. During i" Arundel, I traced a key witness, a barmaid who had been at the very time_he "r;;i;; ;;rfi;; i., u to"at pub and seen the murder victim car. I did this Colin's of boot in the unconscious lying uffZg"afy *u. journalist, author, who and *itnlt L"rr"ti or;i- campbell, another to it in a chapter whole a devoted and case, colin's into ro"xi"s *., (Gatefever). prison life with dealing book he pub"lished soon afterwards she had defrnitely itt" Uuti".ia told us, without any prompting, thatwith another man, ,"u" i"*i, on the evening in question, drinking because he was *t. *", ""t Colin Walhcd She remarked upon Lewis, for him, since he alwavg ;;;"G smart clothes which was unusualpub.

She also'remembered *"r" l.-"""t.lothes when he came into the ;il;;ili""t.r evening accurately because it was the frrrst night she had worked with a new barman' I was able to frnd out that Jonathan Lewis had got those clothes out oflhe dry--cleaners on the day he died, and-was wearing them that wife found the drv;;;;id,:"tt as the barmaid said he was' His jackel h35 nsvsl he.en The missing. went he ;b";i;d ii.tut, after ."""""rEa. Nor'has the man Lewis wai talking to been traced' The p"ii* i"t"t"iewed this witness before the case came to court, but thenit claiming [i.-ir*a t "r recollection of the date she had seen Lewis, as no difference, made ticket dry-<leaning The occasion. was an earlier far as they were concerned; nor Lewis's wife's recollection ofjust how the plastic bag had been left lying on the bed, with the hanger on top'

It

Onecanonlyconcludethattheydidnotwanttoadmitthetruth:

cross that of Jonathan Lewis's at the time murdered. was he the evening stated on ignored crucial evidence, and determinedly they how saw l When to make sure ('olin rvas prosecut.d'.then I no* ift"y ftud been .u "og"t case as firmly as my own, until such tim,e *.. a"t""*ined to press-his I gained access to all uJ" *ur at libertt'to do the sanrt,. lhrough this,deeply than before in his material. And so I became involved far more links to a their and services, the activities ofthe British Intelligence particular brand of Politics.

coti., w"tta"eis path did not

DuringlgSSandlg36Itoutedbulgingbriefcasesof'materialround I'leet Stieet, trying to reach a wider audience than Channel 4' or the

New Statesman had been able to. But, while many people showed interest, no one appeared to be willing to stick their neck out.

Admittedly, this was before Peter Wright's Spycatcher had been published. Bu[ it is my opinion that the newspapers were simply unwilling

to accept my allegations when I was visiting their offrces owing to what I call '[he Netley factor'. However, I am sure what I had to tell them paved the way for the kind ofreaction which ensued when Spycatcher did eventually appear, and supported much ofwhat Colin in particular had been saying.

Of course, when the Stalker Affair blew up, the jigsaw became more involved than ever. Ijust wish that someone had been prepared to take

on our story before the authorities had been able to muster their

defences and manage to divert as much public attention as they could from the real issues by mal'.ing it all a matter of injunctions, and personalities. What people will remember most about John Stalker is the fact that he was cruelly'smeared'- not the murders he was sent to Ulster to investigate. Spycatcher will always be primarily the book they tried to ban, rather than the book which gave a genuine insight into what the Security Service in this country is capable of. It is the matter, not the appearance, or the way in facts of the case that

it is presented to the public. I know that the British Army arranged to have Seamus Grew kidnapped in 1974. John Stalker knew that Seamus Grew was murdered in 1982. It is absurd to even pretend that there is no connection between the two events. The British public should know what it is, and exactly what it is a sympton of, for both acts were carried out in their name.

While the Press seemed reluctant to help Colin and me, there were others who helped us along - some wittingly, some unwittingly - and, during these years, far from disappearing from the scene, we made our presence felt. Colin had written a number of letters to his MP without getting any joy, so I added my voice, with its somewhat more raucous tone. The result was that towards the end of 1985, the Tory MP Teddy Taylor got in touch with me, prompted by his rather embarrassed colleague. I was not actually Taylor's constituent - he represented Southend East, and I livedjust over the edge ofhis constituencey - but he seemed concerned to listen to what I had to say. One morning he came to my door and asked to speak to me, saying he had been requested to look into the matter. I replied that Paul Channon was my MP, and I was not sure that it was ethical to speak to him. But he insisted that in certain circumstances the niceties could be waived, and, anyway he was sure Mr Channon would not object if he reduced which

his workload by intervening personally. I then invited him in and asked him if he would like to see my files. He declined, stating that he knew the details of my case already, but he oflered to help me.

Mr Taylor invited me to his surgery every Saturday morning, when we would continue to discuss events. I was surprised, but happy to make full use of his assistance to resolve my legal battle.

140

't41

The Taylor saga is full oftwists and turns. It lasted until June 1987, when the IVIF ultimately denied to the Press Council the substance of the greater part ofour conversations, and withdrew from the affair.

Beforethathehadpromisedtobe mosthelpful. He made an issue ofone particular detail in my case: did I get an order from Major Keith Farnes on the eve of my Dublin trip, to go south?

In other words, did he countermand the CO's order, as I said he did and for the reasons I described? Ifthis could be answered satisfactorily, then it seemed likely that I was telling the truth on everything else.

For my part, I outlined frve conditions for reaching a settlement with the authorities which would satisfy me.

1. A posthumous British Empire Medal for gallantry to be awarded to WO2 Bernard Dearsley for his work in Ulster 1973-5.

2. All interference by MI5/CI3, Scotland Yard, in relation to my civilian employment to cease. 0 would accept a verbal assurance on

this matter.)

3. Compensation to be paid for all capital and property losses I had sustained as a result of the actions taken against me. (After discussion with Mr Taylor during which he was given access to my financial papers from 1975 on, it was agreed that a sum ofâ&#x201A;Ź,150,000 was fair and acceptable).

4. The MOD should undertake a proper inquiry on oath into Colin Wallace's case and take appropriate remedial action in the event of him being found to be a victim of a miscarriage ofjustice' 5. My Army records showing me to have been medically downgraded under the category S (Emotional Stability), from 52 (completely normal) to SB (medically unable to serve in an active service theatre) as a result of 'occupational maladjustment' and'environmental disorien-

tation' should be destroyed, or,

if this was not administratively

possible, amended, showing that additional information, not known at lhe time of sitting, now negated the findings of the Medical Board.

(This condition was deliberately worded on the advice of Mr Taylor, to allow the MOD to 'get off the hook', in the event of any charge of

'political psychiatry!)

Mr Taylor obviously tried hard to getjustice for me, I was seeing him every Saturday morning for approximately one year and I began to have the feeling that there were others behind the scenes who were quite glad that this was happening, that the MP had been chosen as their conduit.

Colin Wallace and I now reached the stage when we simply could not tell how high up the web stretched, and who, ultimately, was responsible for the various cover-ups that had occurred. So we decided the only thing to do was to contact the one person who was finally accountable for the Security Service, the Prime Minister herself.

-DqrilS !9Q6, Colin put together a folder of some 100-odd pages, ryhich-! added to,including secret documents and statements inipiicatfng all those guilty of lrglawful practices in Northern Ireland during lhe yeals we had served there. I sent this folder to Number 10 Downin!

S-treet. Each page was punched, and the holes backed with linen ringsl There was a covering letter inside.

Three weeks later, the folder was returned to me. Mrs Thatcher felt able to s1f iq her letter to Colin that after a complete and thorough security inquiry no action would be taken on the contents of the file.

What she did not say was that the contents ofthe file had been retained Uy !r9r offrce, and only photostats returned to us. Extraordinarily, I could make out pencilled exclamation marks on various pages *h"r" paticularlysensitive areas werre discussed. I immediatelyto;k the file to Duncan Campbell, who had seen the original, and asked him to witness that this wae not it. I then wrote to the Government, asking for my original pack. They told me that they had sent it alreaiy. I -copy wrote back that what I had was a photocopy. They denied this, saying -they had retained nothing ofthe oiiginal.

Bu! I believe they had to say so; for, meanwhile, Colin had ivritten to ask them why they had not passed this information onto the Justice Hughes committee, which was looking into Kincora on behalf of the Government. Ttrey could then tell him they again did not possess any of this information. The truth was that they did, and they failed to pass it 9n. f_refu3ed to grve up. And after a lengthy correspondence, it *as

finally admitted that the originals mighistill be somewhere in their that this was 'irrelevant'. Nothing could have been more relevant to the Hughes inquiry than Colin Wallace,s material!

The fact was that Mrs T'lutchei's office had chosen to avoid doing possession, but

anything whatever about it, even though they were plainly aware of iti significance. We drew our own conclusions irom this. ,Right from the top', in this case, meant exactly that.

During this episode Teddy Taylor asked me ifhe could take a look at the copy of the frle that had been returned to me. He took it away to examine it. A few weeks later he came back to me to tell me that itirad

been lost from his offrce at the Commons, and he did not know where

could be.

it

apologised . Mr-Taylor the file

profusely, saying there was nothing he could was simply gone.

This-wa-sn't goodenough. Iwent straight to DuncanCampbell again,

do

-

and told him the story. He then published an article i:" tt"-Ne* Qtatesman saying that Teddy Taylor's offrce in the Norman Shaw

Building at-Westminster had been burgled, asking what action had been taken by thg police, and had therJbeen an iriquiry. How was it

that a secure b_uilding at the Houses ofParliament could-be penetrated by thieves and so on!

140

't41

The Taylor saga is full oftwists and turns. It lasted until June 1987, when the IVIF ultimately denied to the Press Council the substance of the greater part ofour conversations, and withdrew from the affair.

Beforethathehadpromisedtobe mosthelpful. He made an issue ofone particular detail in my case: did I get an order from Major Keith Farnes on the eve of my Dublin trip, to go south?

In other words, did he countermand the CO's order, as I said he did and for the reasons I described? Ifthis could be answered satisfactorily, then it seemed likely that I was telling the truth on everything else.

For my part, I outlined frve conditions for reaching a settlement with the authorities which would satisfy me.

1. A posthumous British Empire Medal for gallantry to be awarded to WO2 Bernard Dearsley for his work in Ulster 1973-5.

2. All interference by MI5/CI3, Scotland Yard, in relation to my civilian employment to cease. 0 would accept a verbal assurance on

this matter.)

3. Compensation to be paid for all capital and property losses I had sustained as a result of the actions taken against me. (After discussion with Mr Taylor during which he was given access to my financial papers from 1975 on, it was agreed that a sum ofâ&#x201A;Ź,150,000 was fair and acceptable).

4. The MOD should undertake a proper inquiry on oath into Colin Wallace's case and take appropriate remedial action in the event of him being found to be a victim of a miscarriage ofjustice' 5. My Army records showing me to have been medically downgraded under the category S (Emotional Stability), from 52 (completely normal) to SB (medically unable to serve in an active service theatre) as a result of 'occupational maladjustment' and'environmental disorien-

tation' should be destroyed, or,

if this was not administratively

possible, amended, showing that additional information, not known at lhe time of sitting, now negated the findings of the Medical Board.

(This condition was deliberately worded on the advice of Mr Taylor, to allow the MOD to 'get off the hook', in the event of any charge of

'political psychiatry!)

Mr Taylor obviously tried hard to getjustice for me, I was seeing him every Saturday morning for approximately one year and I began to have the feeling that there were others behind the scenes who were quite glad that this was happening, that the MP had been chosen as their conduit.

Colin Wallace and I now reached the stage when we simply could not tell how high up the web stretched, and who, ultimately, was responsible for the various cover-ups that had occurred. So we decided the only thing to do was to contact the one person who was finally accountable for the Security Service, the Prime Minister herself.

-DqrilS !9Q6, Colin put together a folder of some 100-odd pages, ryhich-! added to,including secret documents and statements inipiicatfng all those guilty of lrglawful practices in Northern Ireland during lhe yeals we had served there. I sent this folder to Number 10 Downin!

S-treet. Each page was punched, and the holes backed with linen ringsl There was a covering letter inside.

Three weeks later, the folder was returned to me. Mrs Thatcher felt able to s1f iq her letter to Colin that after a complete and thorough security inquiry no action would be taken on the contents of the file.

What she did not say was that the contents ofthe file had been retained Uy !r9r offrce, and only photostats returned to us. Extraordinarily, I could make out pencilled exclamation marks on various pages *h"r" paticularlysensitive areas werre discussed. I immediatelyto;k the file to Duncan Campbell, who had seen the original, and asked him to witness that this wae not it. I then wrote to the Government, asking for my original pack. They told me that they had sent it alreaiy. I -copy wrote back that what I had was a photocopy. They denied this, saying -they had retained nothing ofthe oiiginal.

Bu! I believe they had to say so; for, meanwhile, Colin had ivritten to ask them why they had not passed this information onto the Justice Hughes committee, which was looking into Kincora on behalf of the Government. Ttrey could then tell him they again did not possess any of this information. The truth was that they did, and they failed to pass it 9n. f_refu3ed to grve up. And after a lengthy correspondence, it *as

finally admitted that the originals mighistill be somewhere in their that this was 'irrelevant'. Nothing could have been more relevant to the Hughes inquiry than Colin Wallace,s material!

The fact was that Mrs T'lutchei's office had chosen to avoid doing possession, but

anything whatever about it, even though they were plainly aware of iti significance. We drew our own conclusions irom this. ,Right from the top', in this case, meant exactly that.

During this episode Teddy Taylor asked me ifhe could take a look at the copy of the frle that had been returned to me. He took it away to examine it. A few weeks later he came back to me to tell me that itirad

been lost from his offrce at the Commons, and he did not know where

could be.

it

apologised . Mr-Taylor the file

profusely, saying there was nothing he could was simply gone.

This-wa-sn't goodenough. Iwent straight to DuncanCampbell again,

do

-

and told him the story. He then published an article i:" tt"-Ne* Qtatesman saying that Teddy Taylor's offrce in the Norman Shaw

Building at-Westminster had been burgled, asking what action had been taken by thg police, and had therJbeen an iriquiry. How was it

that a secure b_uilding at the Houses ofParliament could-be penetrated by thieves and so on!

142

143

Mr Taylor contacted me at once, to tell me to say he would do whatever he could to get the file back.

I went down to see Teddy Taylor in Southend the next week. Would I believe it, he began, the file had turned up in his office, there, in his constituency - did I think MIs could possibly have stolen it and returned it? I didn't tell him what I thought, though it seemed quite obvious to me. I believe that MI5 had obtained access to the file because they wished to remove my evidence that Mrs Thatcher's oflice had retained the original.

In the end, after meetings with MOD ofhcials and MI5 oIlicers, Mr Taylor was given leave to offer me a deal. Once he had satisfied himself that his central question concerning Maj. Farnes' counter--order had been answered, he seemed ready to address my conditions. Keith Farnes had been contacted in Oman, and admitted that it was quite possible the counter--order had been given by him, since the circumstances at the time were just as I had described them. This was enough for Teddy Taylor - though he has since denied Farnes said this. In June 1986, he was able to tell me that the Ministry of Defence had agreed to at least some of my conditions. I would be paid the S,150,000 I asked for in compensation. A letter would be produced which would clear my name to my satisfaction, without actually admitting any blame in the matter of my removal from Ulster. Apparently, it was not.possible, at this stage, to award Bunny Dearsley a BEM. However, it seemed that, at last, the Army were giving in. I received two draft letters of refer-

ence from the MOD, and an assurance concerning my future

employment. There appeared to be a genuine attempt to clear things up once and for all, and I was grateful for the time and effort Mr Taylor had put in on my behalf.

But there was the one condition I had made for a settlement still

unfulfilled and that was that Colin Wallace's same manner.

case be

dealt with in the

I took a short camping holiday with my wifd to think

things over. Taylor had given me five different telephone numbers where I could reach him. I tried to do so from a small village post--office in the Yorkshire dales. but he was unavailable on any ofthem. I sensed that perhaps it was not going to be quite as simple as I had begun to think. When I came back, I was proved right. There was no longer any prollem concerning my own case. But Taylor told me that nothing could be settled unless I dropped Colin's. I told him at once that I couldn't do it. I knew what it felt like to be in his position, albeit not in prison convicted of manslaughter. He needed all the friends he could get. Taylor informed me, then, that there could be no deal unless I agreed to this proviso. I refused.

However this story ends, I am sure it will be the media who decide its fate. Late in 1985 I came across a number of stories about Colin, written by journalists who had believed the misinformation on Colin put out during and after his trial. I contacted two ofthesejournalists,

steve Dorril and Liz curtis, telling them that they simply didn,t know the.full story. I offered to take thJm to meet colin wrir.* i" p.ir"".

Both accepted and, on meeting Colin, immediatefy b-een.deceived, and that this wa-s an enormously import."i,t"y. "eaiisla;il;ir;; "st"r" Dorril, of Lobsterm agazine,went down to soulhend-;"i my copio-us files. Lobster then began publishing articles"*aiir*"gr, o" mtn oii"

cases and allegations.

In December 1986 Co_lin was,rellased on parole from Lewes'prison.

By this time some of peter Wright's allegations ;i;i against the- wilson government had appJared in "il"t;;-Mfi the seriou. .rul*.-Moloney, papgr.s.-4lqlough journalists like Ed Andy pollack and David McKittrick had.been investigating and writing .to't ;t; Kincora Boys Home affailsince 19g0,;heir;ork had newspapers in the Irish Republic or Northern Ireland, "pdr*a and ""fyl" had been taken in Britain. When Wright;s ailegatlo;;pd;; "o "o[t"

cogple of months before Colin's release Fom prisoln, ,o-u o?ifr"lo"rnalists in London remembered me, and ttre artictes in robster about Wallac^e's allegations of IVII5 operations against the Wilson g;;rn_ ment. so it was in December tggs that colii wallac" steppea t-n"ou!t the door of Lewes prison.(with me in the rear, carrying the bagsrr to-be met by aproximately B0 journalists and B television crews, The most llnportant immediate reaction was a t hour documentary ^ 'Today,-To.nightl, the-Irish for Republic's ,ro.1 cur"ent .ff"i". pro_ graTTe., which explained both of our cases and ou" ailegatio.rs,'arrd provided some independent supporting evidence of theiiown. i had already-been interviewed on a number of occasions by both BBC Ulster and Radio Television Eirean (RTE) in the republic wirtf, fru-a-prup"rJ the ground ful tLir programme. As a resuit of the RTE p""b"--" (never shown in Britain) questions began to be asked lv'r"iJr, p"iiiicians and a second Garda inquiry was iet up.

This one was headed by Inspector Hennessy, J.p.McMahon _ the chief of Monagh_qn-poli_c9 slation, the Badger's Uor, _.rra Ct l"i-S"p""_ intendent Tom Kelly. wh_e-n Iheard of the"inquiry, the frrst ati"c i-dtd was to write and ask why I had never been brougtli forttt .. u *ii"-"., i" the former investigation. Kelly telephoned me'shortly .fter*u"ds arrd asked me to go over to Dublin as soon as I could. Once again, I was naive enough to believe th_at an internal inquiry mignt ictu;fly be conducted with a genuine depth and honesty.'Keilv le? me to u"r"i"ue that he had been called in sp-ecialry by the'iaoiseach because he *as u4tappy with what had happened-beio"u. I now know that he and his one purposl above a]l: to try to get me to help the :oll,"re"":.la{ sadger oft-the hook, because he was threatening that if he became the scapegoat he would reveal just how far the Garai haa m"" pl""iruila

by British Intelligence, and just who had bein involved in with them. ";"p;;;;;; Kelly and his friends treated me with great respect, and managed to

142

143

Mr Taylor contacted me at once, to tell me to say he would do whatever he could to get the file back.

I went down to see Teddy Taylor in Southend the next week. Would I believe it, he began, the file had turned up in his office, there, in his constituency - did I think MIs could possibly have stolen it and returned it? I didn't tell him what I thought, though it seemed quite obvious to me. I believe that MI5 had obtained access to the file because they wished to remove my evidence that Mrs Thatcher's oflice had retained the original.

In the end, after meetings with MOD ofhcials and MI5 oIlicers, Mr Taylor was given leave to offer me a deal. Once he had satisfied himself that his central question concerning Maj. Farnes' counter--order had been answered, he seemed ready to address my conditions. Keith Farnes had been contacted in Oman, and admitted that it was quite possible the counter--order had been given by him, since the circumstances at the time were just as I had described them. This was enough for Teddy Taylor - though he has since denied Farnes said this. In June 1986, he was able to tell me that the Ministry of Defence had agreed to at least some of my conditions. I would be paid the S,150,000 I asked for in compensation. A letter would be produced which would clear my name to my satisfaction, without actually admitting any blame in the matter of my removal from Ulster. Apparently, it was not.possible, at this stage, to award Bunny Dearsley a BEM. However, it seemed that, at last, the Army were giving in. I received two draft letters of refer-

ence from the MOD, and an assurance concerning my future

employment. There appeared to be a genuine attempt to clear things up once and for all, and I was grateful for the time and effort Mr Taylor had put in on my behalf.

But there was the one condition I had made for a settlement still

unfulfilled and that was that Colin Wallace's same manner.

case be

dealt with in the

I took a short camping holiday with my wifd to think

things over. Taylor had given me five different telephone numbers where I could reach him. I tried to do so from a small village post--office in the Yorkshire dales. but he was unavailable on any ofthem. I sensed that perhaps it was not going to be quite as simple as I had begun to think. When I came back, I was proved right. There was no longer any prollem concerning my own case. But Taylor told me that nothing could be settled unless I dropped Colin's. I told him at once that I couldn't do it. I knew what it felt like to be in his position, albeit not in prison convicted of manslaughter. He needed all the friends he could get. Taylor informed me, then, that there could be no deal unless I agreed to this proviso. I refused.

However this story ends, I am sure it will be the media who decide its fate. Late in 1985 I came across a number of stories about Colin, written by journalists who had believed the misinformation on Colin put out during and after his trial. I contacted two ofthesejournalists,

steve Dorril and Liz curtis, telling them that they simply didn,t know the.full story. I offered to take thJm to meet colin wrir.* i" p.ir"".

Both accepted and, on meeting Colin, immediatefy b-een.deceived, and that this wa-s an enormously import."i,t"y. "eaiisla;il;ir;; "st"r" Dorril, of Lobsterm agazine,went down to soulhend-;"i my copio-us files. Lobster then began publishing articles"*aiir*"gr, o" mtn oii"

cases and allegations.

In December 1986 Co_lin was,rellased on parole from Lewes'prison.

By this time some of peter Wright's allegations ;i;i against the- wilson government had appJared in "il"t;;-Mfi the seriou. .rul*.-Moloney, papgr.s.-4lqlough journalists like Ed Andy pollack and David McKittrick had.been investigating and writing .to't ;t; Kincora Boys Home affailsince 19g0,;heir;ork had newspapers in the Irish Republic or Northern Ireland, "pdr*a and ""fyl" had been taken in Britain. When Wright;s ailegatlo;;pd;; "o "o[t"

cogple of months before Colin's release Fom prisoln, ,o-u o?ifr"lo"rnalists in London remembered me, and ttre artictes in robster about Wallac^e's allegations of IVII5 operations against the Wilson g;;rn_ ment. so it was in December tggs that colii wallac" steppea t-n"ou!t the door of Lewes prison.(with me in the rear, carrying the bagsrr to-be met by aproximately B0 journalists and B television crews, The most llnportant immediate reaction was a t hour documentary ^ 'Today,-To.nightl, the-Irish for Republic's ,ro.1 cur"ent .ff"i". pro_ graTTe., which explained both of our cases and ou" ailegatio.rs,'arrd provided some independent supporting evidence of theiiown. i had already-been interviewed on a number of occasions by both BBC Ulster and Radio Television Eirean (RTE) in the republic wirtf, fru-a-prup"rJ the ground ful tLir programme. As a resuit of the RTE p""b"--" (never shown in Britain) questions began to be asked lv'r"iJr, p"iiiicians and a second Garda inquiry was iet up.

This one was headed by Inspector Hennessy, J.p.McMahon _ the chief of Monagh_qn-poli_c9 slation, the Badger's Uor, _.rra Ct l"i-S"p""_ intendent Tom Kelly. wh_e-n Iheard of the"inquiry, the frrst ati"c i-dtd was to write and ask why I had never been brougtli forttt .. u *ii"-"., i" the former investigation. Kelly telephoned me'shortly .fter*u"ds arrd asked me to go over to Dublin as soon as I could. Once again, I was naive enough to believe th_at an internal inquiry mignt ictu;fly be conducted with a genuine depth and honesty.'Keilv le? me to u"r"i"ue that he had been called in sp-ecialry by the'iaoiseach because he *as u4tappy with what had happened-beio"u. I now know that he and his one purposl above a]l: to try to get me to help the :oll,"re"":.la{ sadger oft-the hook, because he was threatening that if he became the scapegoat he would reveal just how far the Garai haa m"" pl""iruila

by British Intelligence, and just who had bein involved in with them. ";"p;;;;;; Kelly and his friends treated me with great respect, and managed to

145

144 me a statement which would ensure that the Badger would be seen to be punished for what, after all, had been a commitment that

elicit from

had helped me in my work, and furthered the frght against terrorlsq on behalf of everyone conceraed. I am not a vindictive man, and I had no reason to want to see my ex--colleague from the other side of the border suffer for what he had done. I believed that the inquiry was being held in good faith, and that, as a result of it, my case would gather even more momentum. I know now that I was conned. The iesults were not made public. I was never given a copy of my statement. I have little trust, these days in any internal inquiries whatsoever.

As a footnote to this, I can say that both Kelly and McMahon have since been shifted from their roles as investigators, and back onto the

crime squad. It is perhaps a sign that Mr Haughey realizes

how-

politicised his public servants have become. One can only hope tha-t i{ lhere are any further investigations he appoints suitably impartial people to carry them out. Those who have been connected closely with Brilistr Intelligence in Ireland are hardly likely to want to be forced to admit it.

In spite of the inadequacy of the Garda inquiry, questions continrred to be asked in the Republic, and I worked every closely with one Dublin journalist in particular. He produced a number of articles, as he still does. There have been some unfortunate reporting errors' however.

One, recently, led to a considerable furore by implying that an IRA veteran called J.B.O'Hagan had been involved with the Badger, and was passing Intelligence to the British. This was mistakenly based on certain remarks of mine, received second hand; rather than check up with me, the reporter simply went ahead and concocted a sensational story, which for a while put O'Hagan's life in danger. I have no idea whether or not O'Hagan ever met the Garda officer whom I dealt with, alongside the Badger. That officer, certainly, has denied it and threat' enedto sue. In the process, he has algo denied ever meeting me. I am afraid he cannot be believed on this account. I have his telephone number in my notebook from the time, along with the Badger's, and another of my police contacts. These men are still serving offrcersIt is my beliif that th"y, like myself, were authorised to do what they did by senior officers, and those same senior oflicers, realizing their vulnerability, are carrying out the same sort of coverup in Southern lreland as the RUC did in my case. After all, both the Blitish and Irish Governments were saying one thing, and doing quite another.

In 1987 Colin and I were introduced to Anthony Cavendish an ex-MI6 officer who published his memoirs with the specifrc purpose of clearing Maurice Oldfield's name after MI5 starbed a smear campaign against him. Cavendish believes Colin and I and said so in his book Inside Intelligence. This was a welcome reference. I have learned to

my cost that all the Security agencies of the State are capable of organizing smears and misinformation in the media.

In The Independent ofWednesday, 2 September 1987, a front page article and a full page spread in the Home News section was devoted to dismissing our claims. My allegations about Robert Nairac were untruthfully countered, alongside a column indirectly giving credence to the Army's version of events concerning my transfer to Netley. Colin Wallace was painted as a 'Walter Mitty' type of figure; a phrase frequently used to discredit him. The actual evidence the journalist, David McKittrick, produced to dismiss our allegations was flimsy and easily countered. (This was done in a copy oflobster, where the facts supporting Colin's portrayal ofhis caneer, rather than the fabrications used against him, were brought to light). When I investigated the source of the information used by McKittrick, I found it led directly back to the RUC. I personally visited Mr Andreas Whittam-Smith's offtce at The Independent and offered to make all my evidence available to anotherjournalist from his newspaper, so that he could see for himself that McKittrick's article was unfounded. Whittam-'Smith declined. He also declined to publish any of the letters written by other journalists involved with our cases. I had no alternative but to tell him that we would take effective legal action when and how we chose to. In the meantime, McKittrick's article stands as a perfect example of the kind of inaccurate report that is based simply on what the authorities are prepared to put out. I say'the authorities'quite deliberately, for exactly the same material published in The Independent had been offered first to The Sunday Times (who, having looked into my case, refused to publish it), and also to a BBC journalist by none other than one of the RUC o{ficers investigating my allegations.

After all these years fighting forjustice, I sense that perhaps now, at last, there is sufficient public awareness and political interest in the events that have taken place in the province since the British Army were deployed, to ensure that my story will be heard.

I am indebted to a number ofpeople in recent years and some have proved uneasy political bedfellows. But my most dedicated ally, and my most uneasy bedfellow of all, is the man to whom I now look to make the frnal assault on my behalf. Ken Livingstone, the Labour MP for Brent East, first met me when his election agent contacted me in the summer of 1987 to ask if I wanted to use a meeting in Brent to put my case forward to an interested audience. I had been speaking in the previous months at a number of different venues up and down the couritry, and I agreed at once. I gave a talk to a very hostile crowd of Labour supporters -many with Republicans leanings, who made their hostility very clear. I had a long chat with Ken afterwards, when he asked if he could help in any way. I took him up on his offer, and requested assistance from his researcher, Neil Grant, to look into a number of important areas. When Ken was elected to parliament, his

145

144 me a statement which would ensure that the Badger would be seen to be punished for what, after all, had been a commitment that

elicit from

had helped me in my work, and furthered the frght against terrorlsq on behalf of everyone conceraed. I am not a vindictive man, and I had no reason to want to see my ex--colleague from the other side of the border suffer for what he had done. I believed that the inquiry was being held in good faith, and that, as a result of it, my case would gather even more momentum. I know now that I was conned. The iesults were not made public. I was never given a copy of my statement. I have little trust, these days in any internal inquiries whatsoever.

As a footnote to this, I can say that both Kelly and McMahon have since been shifted from their roles as investigators, and back onto the

crime squad. It is perhaps a sign that Mr Haughey realizes

how-

politicised his public servants have become. One can only hope tha-t i{ lhere are any further investigations he appoints suitably impartial people to carry them out. Those who have been connected closely with Brilistr Intelligence in Ireland are hardly likely to want to be forced to admit it.

In spite of the inadequacy of the Garda inquiry, questions continrred to be asked in the Republic, and I worked every closely with one Dublin journalist in particular. He produced a number of articles, as he still does. There have been some unfortunate reporting errors' however.

One, recently, led to a considerable furore by implying that an IRA veteran called J.B.O'Hagan had been involved with the Badger, and was passing Intelligence to the British. This was mistakenly based on certain remarks of mine, received second hand; rather than check up with me, the reporter simply went ahead and concocted a sensational story, which for a while put O'Hagan's life in danger. I have no idea whether or not O'Hagan ever met the Garda officer whom I dealt with, alongside the Badger. That officer, certainly, has denied it and threat' enedto sue. In the process, he has algo denied ever meeting me. I am afraid he cannot be believed on this account. I have his telephone number in my notebook from the time, along with the Badger's, and another of my police contacts. These men are still serving offrcersIt is my beliif that th"y, like myself, were authorised to do what they did by senior officers, and those same senior oflicers, realizing their vulnerability, are carrying out the same sort of coverup in Southern lreland as the RUC did in my case. After all, both the Blitish and Irish Governments were saying one thing, and doing quite another.

In 1987 Colin and I were introduced to Anthony Cavendish an ex-MI6 officer who published his memoirs with the specifrc purpose of clearing Maurice Oldfield's name after MI5 starbed a smear campaign against him. Cavendish believes Colin and I and said so in his book Inside Intelligence. This was a welcome reference. I have learned to

my cost that all the Security agencies of the State are capable of organizing smears and misinformation in the media.

In The Independent ofWednesday, 2 September 1987, a front page article and a full page spread in the Home News section was devoted to dismissing our claims. My allegations about Robert Nairac were untruthfully countered, alongside a column indirectly giving credence to the Army's version of events concerning my transfer to Netley. Colin Wallace was painted as a 'Walter Mitty' type of figure; a phrase frequently used to discredit him. The actual evidence the journalist, David McKittrick, produced to dismiss our allegations was flimsy and easily countered. (This was done in a copy oflobster, where the facts supporting Colin's portrayal ofhis caneer, rather than the fabrications used against him, were brought to light). When I investigated the source of the information used by McKittrick, I found it led directly back to the RUC. I personally visited Mr Andreas Whittam-Smith's offtce at The Independent and offered to make all my evidence available to anotherjournalist from his newspaper, so that he could see for himself that McKittrick's article was unfounded. Whittam-'Smith declined. He also declined to publish any of the letters written by other journalists involved with our cases. I had no alternative but to tell him that we would take effective legal action when and how we chose to. In the meantime, McKittrick's article stands as a perfect example of the kind of inaccurate report that is based simply on what the authorities are prepared to put out. I say'the authorities'quite deliberately, for exactly the same material published in The Independent had been offered first to The Sunday Times (who, having looked into my case, refused to publish it), and also to a BBC journalist by none other than one of the RUC o{ficers investigating my allegations.

After all these years fighting forjustice, I sense that perhaps now, at last, there is sufficient public awareness and political interest in the events that have taken place in the province since the British Army were deployed, to ensure that my story will be heard.

I am indebted to a number ofpeople in recent years and some have proved uneasy political bedfellows. But my most dedicated ally, and my most uneasy bedfellow of all, is the man to whom I now look to make the frnal assault on my behalf. Ken Livingstone, the Labour MP for Brent East, first met me when his election agent contacted me in the summer of 1987 to ask if I wanted to use a meeting in Brent to put my case forward to an interested audience. I had been speaking in the previous months at a number of different venues up and down the couritry, and I agreed at once. I gave a talk to a very hostile crowd of Labour supporters -many with Republicans leanings, who made their hostility very clear. I had a long chat with Ken afterwards, when he asked if he could help in any way. I took him up on his offer, and requested assistance from his researcher, Neil Grant, to look into a number of important areas. When Ken was elected to parliament, his

r46 147

maiden speech was based on the material I had given him.

Thanks to the media who ignored the speech to attack the speaker, it ehrned Ken an even worse riputation than he had had hithlrto. But that did not concern him. He realized that he had touched a rerrne, "u*ground and he continued to probe it. There is very little common between us, but in one wey we are very similar: he will not let gi of my case, any more than I will. . During the course of 1988 Ken has tabled question after question in

the

Commons to try _ to get some satisfactory answers ; ;; allegations. Time and again the answers have been evasivJ

misleading, or simply untrue. But he has continuea to "-.---'-' The Establishment-has good reason to be worried "sf.1t about a proper judicial inquiry into all these affairs. This story cannot end until tlat has happened. As far as I am concerned, the sooner it does, the better. I have occasionally been under personal surveillance sinee I returneJ from Rhodesia - or, as it is now known, Zimbabwe. There have been occasions when I have actually confronted men sitting in cars, pretending to look the other way. There is always a rule oT thumb in ihese situations. $ny ordinary person will resp-ond when you go up to their window and stare through it. If it is an undercover poii." o?rr."", he will do anything but acknowledge you.

Once, when I was meeting Duncan Campbell, to join him for a radio interview, I- w^as kept under surveillance throughout my journey _ a

whole

s_quad of trainee agents (iust as we had been in asniora) rottowea me on the,tube, and were left looking rather sheepish when I managed to evade them and then reestablish contact by waving across the ro"ad, as they stood wondering where I had gone. I have grown used to it, as

i

have grown used to the idea of a phone-tap, ind *v -"if lli"g interefered with from time to time.

Somewhat more worrying is the course events took in 1ggg. A prjvqte detective, someone completely unknown to me, at the time, telephoned me in March to tell me that the RUC were trying to some kind of smear campaign against me (his information lame-o.rri from

an MI5 contact of his). Nothing more came of it, until I received a call {rom a man purporting to be an IRA volunteer, who had been active during my time in Ulster,and who had only recently been released from prison. The man said he wauted to speak to me. fwas suspicious, to say the least, but as I have had many contacts with sources from both sides of the sectarian divide, I kept an open mind. Only a few days later, I was informed by a well-plaied oflieial source in ouutin ttrat tris

personal informer in the RUC had told him something quite significant was being set up for me. The private detective nia neert right. I was to be the victim of a smear, which would do for me what

imprisonment had done for colin. Now I began to wonder ifthe contact from the IRA man was really a coincidencJ Thanks to being warned, I was able to create sullicient safeguards to

protect myself, if my suspicions prove eorrect. significant advance was made by Colin and I with the publication -byAMacMillan in 1989 of Paul Foot's Who Framed Colin Wallace. Colin and I had originally arranged with Paul for him to investigate both out storles and produce a joint account of them. But we realised that, firstly, this would take too long; and secondly, we would have all our gggs in one basket. Anthony Cavendish's book Inside Intelligence had been injuncted (though I am happy to say that the government's attem-pt to suppress it entirely has recently failed) and that injunction, plus the campaign against Peter Wrighds Spycatcher, persuaded us that we stood a chance ofat least one book coming out ifwe worked on our stories independently. Paul designed his book to compliment this one and for that I am grateful.

As I write there is a copy ofan earlier draft ofthis book circulating among inmates of the Maze prison in Northern Ireland, who include paramilitaries from the proscribed Protestant organizations. I have heard from a reliable source in the Maze that I have been targetted by two of the former SAS members who worked with the piotestant terrorists in my day. However, I have experience enough ofthis kind of threat,_and seen enough active service, not to be intimidated by anything they care to set up for me.

As for MI5 and its political masters, only by standing out against _ them is there any hope of bringing them to heel. They thrive on people's insecurity - what their victims are afraid to lose. In my case, I

have lost everything anyway. I remain extremely poor, and live frugally. Unless they are prepared to stoop to the same kind of criminal activity that went on in Ireland they cannot touch me. For this reason, I can continue to speak out where others might be silent. I can only hope my voice

will

be heard.

r46 147

maiden speech was based on the material I had given him.

Thanks to the media who ignored the speech to attack the speaker, it ehrned Ken an even worse riputation than he had had hithlrto. But that did not concern him. He realized that he had touched a rerrne, "u*ground and he continued to probe it. There is very little common between us, but in one wey we are very similar: he will not let gi of my case, any more than I will. . During the course of 1988 Ken has tabled question after question in

the

Commons to try _ to get some satisfactory answers ; ;; allegations. Time and again the answers have been evasivJ

misleading, or simply untrue. But he has continuea to "-.---'-' The Establishment-has good reason to be worried "sf.1t about a proper judicial inquiry into all these affairs. This story cannot end until tlat has happened. As far as I am concerned, the sooner it does, the better. I have occasionally been under personal surveillance sinee I returneJ from Rhodesia - or, as it is now known, Zimbabwe. There have been occasions when I have actually confronted men sitting in cars, pretending to look the other way. There is always a rule oT thumb in ihese situations. $ny ordinary person will resp-ond when you go up to their window and stare through it. If it is an undercover poii." o?rr."", he will do anything but acknowledge you.

Once, when I was meeting Duncan Campbell, to join him for a radio interview, I- w^as kept under surveillance throughout my journey _ a

whole

s_quad of trainee agents (iust as we had been in asniora) rottowea me on the,tube, and were left looking rather sheepish when I managed to evade them and then reestablish contact by waving across the ro"ad, as they stood wondering where I had gone. I have grown used to it, as

i

have grown used to the idea of a phone-tap, ind *v -"if lli"g interefered with from time to time.

Somewhat more worrying is the course events took in 1ggg. A prjvqte detective, someone completely unknown to me, at the time, telephoned me in March to tell me that the RUC were trying to some kind of smear campaign against me (his information lame-o.rri from

an MI5 contact of his). Nothing more came of it, until I received a call {rom a man purporting to be an IRA volunteer, who had been active during my time in Ulster,and who had only recently been released from prison. The man said he wauted to speak to me. fwas suspicious, to say the least, but as I have had many contacts with sources from both sides of the sectarian divide, I kept an open mind. Only a few days later, I was informed by a well-plaied oflieial source in ouutin ttrat tris

personal informer in the RUC had told him something quite significant was being set up for me. The private detective nia neert right. I was to be the victim of a smear, which would do for me what

imprisonment had done for colin. Now I began to wonder ifthe contact from the IRA man was really a coincidencJ Thanks to being warned, I was able to create sullicient safeguards to

protect myself, if my suspicions prove eorrect. significant advance was made by Colin and I with the publication -byAMacMillan in 1989 of Paul Foot's Who Framed Colin Wallace. Colin and I had originally arranged with Paul for him to investigate both out storles and produce a joint account of them. But we realised that, firstly, this would take too long; and secondly, we would have all our gggs in one basket. Anthony Cavendish's book Inside Intelligence had been injuncted (though I am happy to say that the government's attem-pt to suppress it entirely has recently failed) and that injunction, plus the campaign against Peter Wrighds Spycatcher, persuaded us that we stood a chance ofat least one book coming out ifwe worked on our stories independently. Paul designed his book to compliment this one and for that I am grateful.

As I write there is a copy ofan earlier draft ofthis book circulating among inmates of the Maze prison in Northern Ireland, who include paramilitaries from the proscribed Protestant organizations. I have heard from a reliable source in the Maze that I have been targetted by two of the former SAS members who worked with the piotestant terrorists in my day. However, I have experience enough ofthis kind of threat,_and seen enough active service, not to be intimidated by anything they care to set up for me.

As for MI5 and its political masters, only by standing out against _ them is there any hope of bringing them to heel. They thrive on people's insecurity - what their victims are afraid to lose. In my case, I

have lost everything anyway. I remain extremely poor, and live frugally. Unless they are prepared to stoop to the same kind of criminal activity that went on in Ireland they cannot touch me. For this reason, I can continue to speak out where others might be silent. I can only hope my voice

will

be heard.

149

POSTSCRIPT The Full Circle I have included

appendices to these recollections, including docu-

mentary evidence of my long battle with the authorities, and transcripts ofparliamentary debates. By and large, these speak for themselves, and need no further comment from me.

I am, however, loath to conclude without some reference to the most recent evasions on behalf of Her M4jesty's Government. On 2 June 1988, Ken Livingstone succeeded in moving an A{oumment Debate, since the anawers to his hundred questions on the Order Paper had been dealt with so unsatisfactorily. Colin Wallace and I believed that our telephone conversations were being monitored at this time and so we deliberately discussed Ken's forthcoming debate as ifhe were going to introduce both ofour cases, raising points about myeelfand Colin.

During the debate, Ken, quite deliberately, did not mention either myself or my case, referring only to Colin's allegations. ltre Parliamentary Under Secretary for State for the Armed Forces, Roger Freeman, seemed quite thrown by Ken's presentation, and stated that he had not been given enough time to reply in detail, even though he subsequently allowed other speakers from his side of the House to intervene on his behalf. Instead, he said he would reply to Ken by letter the following day. In this letter he took the opportunity to make a totally uncalled for attack on my credibility, even though I was not mentioned in the debate. The letter did, however, provide an answer to exactly the questions Colin and I had discussed on the phone.

Freeman, from paragraph thirteen of his reply, repeated the tired old offrcial version ofevents, which I hope this book has opened up to serious doubt.

Ken replied, pointing out that my inclusion in Freeman's reply was 'particularly odd', given that I had not been mentioned by him, and that whilst Freeman had gone to some length to discredit both Colin and myself, he had not addressed the question raised in the debate and appeared to be deliberately misleading Members of Parliament.

Freeman's response to this challenge was predictable, and for me, sums up the attitude of the authorities, that of pulling down the shutters and reverting to the party line. He stated that Ken's claim 'that full and careful investigations ofthe subject have not taken place' was without foundation, and that his version of events was a matter of record. (What 'record'? Ken Livingstone has repeatedly asked for details of any inquiries into our allegations. No information has been forthcoming). Considering that no one from authority had ever been to

to frnd out what he was alleging, and only Captain Ken RJVIP and the so-+alled RUC investigating team, discredited by the Essex Police, had ever talked to me, this answer was quite a good example of Ministry of Defence evasion. Such a good example, in fact, that it seems fitting to examine it in some detail, and see Colin

Kinnersley

to expose its dishonesty and hypocrisy.

The gist of Freeman's attack on my credibility in his letter to Ken Livingstone (which Freeman subsequently had placed in the library of the House of Commons) appears to be as follows:That in May 1975, I was removed from my appointment as an MIO and ordered as a patient to attend the Royal Victoria Hospital, Netley, in England, as the result of a compassionate act by my CO, Lt Col B, who believed that I was suffering from mental stress as a result of my father's death, and that the move was carried out in accordance with Army Medical Regulations, current at the time.

That upon my release from hospital I quite unreasonably refused to

accept this state of affairs and appealed to the Army Board of the Defence Council, because I had been medically down-graded on the grounds that I had been emotionallyunstable. Afterathorough investigation, the Army Board had ordered that all reference to mental illness should be removed from my Army records. That, six years later, I began to make complaints about my removal from Ulster, and began to threaten the Army that if my medical records were not amendbd, then I would make allegations about unlawful acts carried out in Ulster by members of HM Forces.

That the Army Board had already ordered that no stigma was to be attached to me, and that it never was their intention that I should resign my Commission.

Freeman's letter paints a picture of someone who couldn't accept the realities ofhis illness, developed a bee in his bonnet and, many years later, threatened blackmail to obtain a change in his medical records.

A sad case of someone who is still not quite stable, and who became unscrupulous in his methods. I imagine the MOD legal staffworked quite hard on its exact wording. The letter is, however, untruthful both in cornmission and omission, as I will briefly show.

In May 1975, I was granted one month's leave by my CO, Lt Co B to start at the end of the month. My CO was aware that I had already obtained and paid for six return tickets to Vancouver, Canada. He knew that I had planned to take my family for a holiday in the Rocky Mountains in order that we should all have a chance to get away from my work and lessen the strains on my marriage. He'compassionately' placed me in hospital four days before I was due to leave.

Lt Col B fabricated two allegations to justifu getting me into hospital: the frrst that I had threatened my wife and family with an 'unattributable' hand gun, the second that my wife's doctor had claimed that if the Army didn't submit me to a psychiatric exam-

149

POSTSCRIPT The Full Circle I have included

appendices to these recollections, including docu-

mentary evidence of my long battle with the authorities, and transcripts ofparliamentary debates. By and large, these speak for themselves, and need no further comment from me.

I am, however, loath to conclude without some reference to the most recent evasions on behalf of Her M4jesty's Government. On 2 June 1988, Ken Livingstone succeeded in moving an A{oumment Debate, since the anawers to his hundred questions on the Order Paper had been dealt with so unsatisfactorily. Colin Wallace and I believed that our telephone conversations were being monitored at this time and so we deliberately discussed Ken's forthcoming debate as ifhe were going to introduce both ofour cases, raising points about myeelfand Colin.

During the debate, Ken, quite deliberately, did not mention either myself or my case, referring only to Colin's allegations. ltre Parliamentary Under Secretary for State for the Armed Forces, Roger Freeman, seemed quite thrown by Ken's presentation, and stated that he had not been given enough time to reply in detail, even though he subsequently allowed other speakers from his side of the House to intervene on his behalf. Instead, he said he would reply to Ken by letter the following day. In this letter he took the opportunity to make a totally uncalled for attack on my credibility, even though I was not mentioned in the debate. The letter did, however, provide an answer to exactly the questions Colin and I had discussed on the phone.

Freeman, from paragraph thirteen of his reply, repeated the tired old offrcial version ofevents, which I hope this book has opened up to serious doubt.

Ken replied, pointing out that my inclusion in Freeman's reply was 'particularly odd', given that I had not been mentioned by him, and that whilst Freeman had gone to some length to discredit both Colin and myself, he had not addressed the question raised in the debate and appeared to be deliberately misleading Members of Parliament.

Freeman's response to this challenge was predictable, and for me, sums up the attitude of the authorities, that of pulling down the shutters and reverting to the party line. He stated that Ken's claim 'that full and careful investigations ofthe subject have not taken place' was without foundation, and that his version of events was a matter of record. (What 'record'? Ken Livingstone has repeatedly asked for details of any inquiries into our allegations. No information has been forthcoming). Considering that no one from authority had ever been to

to frnd out what he was alleging, and only Captain Ken RJVIP and the so-+alled RUC investigating team, discredited by the Essex Police, had ever talked to me, this answer was quite a good example of Ministry of Defence evasion. Such a good example, in fact, that it seems fitting to examine it in some detail, and see Colin

Kinnersley

to expose its dishonesty and hypocrisy.

The gist of Freeman's attack on my credibility in his letter to Ken Livingstone (which Freeman subsequently had placed in the library of the House of Commons) appears to be as follows:That in May 1975, I was removed from my appointment as an MIO and ordered as a patient to attend the Royal Victoria Hospital, Netley, in England, as the result of a compassionate act by my CO, Lt Col B, who believed that I was suffering from mental stress as a result of my father's death, and that the move was carried out in accordance with Army Medical Regulations, current at the time.

That upon my release from hospital I quite unreasonably refused to

accept this state of affairs and appealed to the Army Board of the Defence Council, because I had been medically down-graded on the grounds that I had been emotionallyunstable. Afterathorough investigation, the Army Board had ordered that all reference to mental illness should be removed from my Army records. That, six years later, I began to make complaints about my removal from Ulster, and began to threaten the Army that if my medical records were not amendbd, then I would make allegations about unlawful acts carried out in Ulster by members of HM Forces.

That the Army Board had already ordered that no stigma was to be attached to me, and that it never was their intention that I should resign my Commission.

Freeman's letter paints a picture of someone who couldn't accept the realities ofhis illness, developed a bee in his bonnet and, many years later, threatened blackmail to obtain a change in his medical records.

A sad case of someone who is still not quite stable, and who became unscrupulous in his methods. I imagine the MOD legal staffworked quite hard on its exact wording. The letter is, however, untruthful both in cornmission and omission, as I will briefly show.

In May 1975, I was granted one month's leave by my CO, Lt Co B to start at the end of the month. My CO was aware that I had already obtained and paid for six return tickets to Vancouver, Canada. He knew that I had planned to take my family for a holiday in the Rocky Mountains in order that we should all have a chance to get away from my work and lessen the strains on my marriage. He'compassionately' placed me in hospital four days before I was due to leave.

Lt Col B fabricated two allegations to justifu getting me into hospital: the frrst that I had threatened my wife and family with an 'unattributable' hand gun, the second that my wife's doctor had claimed that if the Army didn't submit me to a psychiatric exam-

151

150

ination, then he would. Despite my repeated requeststo see my wife to resolve what exactly she was saying, B refused to allow me access to her.

After ordering me not to discuss my work with the Army Medical

StaffB secretl/made an allegation to them that I had

disobeyed

ordeis, and suggested that this was an indication of my mental stress.

On 4 iune f g75 he wrote a report justifying his actions, in which he alleged that I was mentally ill. (It was from this document that the Arniy Board ordered that all reference to mental illness should be removed, not from my medical records.) I was informed ofthe existence of thi's report some months after my release from hospital; it was intended lhat I should never see it. On 12 June 1975, during a visit from my CO, he informed me that I would not be returning to my job in Ulster (thi. b"foru I had even taken the three written medical tests at the hospital). He offered me the same job based in England, but with a three-month tour in the Caribbean, and on my refusing it, attempted to bribe and then threaten me.

The MOD have refused to address these minor discrepencies, of course, and cannot explain why, after that visit' B informed my wife, in front of a witness, that I was seriously ill and thatshe should immediately take our children from their school and prepare to return to England.

As to Mr Freeman's account of my stay at Netley hospital, what he failed to reveal to his audienbe in the House of Commons was thatjust about very medical regulation appertaining to a person in my position was either ignored or broken.

I took three tests at Netley; they were supervised by Major Brown RAMC, the resident psychologist at the hospital, and,-as my c1s9 officer, the only doctoi,-apart irom the Commanding Officer LtCol Stewart, to have anything to do with me' I was shown my marked papers by him, which showed me to be'normal'. On my asking why I was stili a patient, Brown informed me that he could not make any comment at I *t. a special case under the sole control of Lt Col Malo. Brown was not invited to be a member Stewart. Needless to that sat on my case. of the Medical Board "ay, After Lt Col stewart refused to tell me why I was still a patient at the hospital, I demanded a second medical opinion from a doctor of my own choice. iontrary to Army Medical Regulation, this right was refused.

(I was held at thl hospital until my family were removed from Ulster.)

I was refused weekend leave from the hospital, despite leave being granted to patients who were diagnosed as ill; this, combined with the 6rder I had received confining me to the hospital grounds, was unprecedented.

I was dischalged from the hospital on 30 June, with a discharge note signed by Lt Cdi Srcwart, clearly showing me to have been medically down-giaded t'rom 52 to Sll {emotionally not fully fit). Yet the MOD

in response to a question in the House from Ken Livingstone, that the Medical Board which sat on my case did not do so until four days later. That Board's President was Lt Col Stewart, its two members were Captain Cantlay, the offrcer from Netley who had interviewed me for five minutes at Musgrave Park hospital's military wing in Belfast, and who had referred me to Netley because he had no facilities there, and a Naval Officer I had been introduced to while I was making a telephone call. Those contacts were the only ones I had with these two doctors. Readers may find it germane if I explain the difference between 52 and S3 in the PULHEEMS medical classification system which is applicable to all HM Forces:52 Emotionally fit to perform Army Duties adequately under full combatant conditions in any part of the world.

S3 Although having a history of emotional instability, at present well adjusted and fit to serve in any part ofthe world in a role that is not have admitted

primarily a fighting one.

This adjustment is the minimum available that can be used to remove a person from an active service area.

It goes without saying that I had no history of emotional instability either in my childhood medical records or my Army medical records before the Netley down-grading.

Again, in answer to a question in the House, the MOD admitted that my medical records should be made available to my civilian medical adviser or my legal adviser after I'd left the Army. On the three occasions that my medical and legal representative have requested to see the records the MOD have refused their requests. The reason just might be that the Medical Board's findings at Netley (which I had the temerity to obtain brief access to) state quite clearly that the Board considered me to be suffering from'occupational maladjustment'and 'environmental disorientation', conditions hardly in keeping with the Army Board's promulgation that although they are not prepared to amend my medical documents, no stigma should be attached to me.

I am aware from'off the record'briefings that the MOD are perfectly aware that I am a victim of political psychiatry. One journalist was informed by an oflicial Army sp'okesperson some years ago that although he privately conceded the issue, the Army would never publicly admit it, because it might lead to genuinely ill soldiers refusing to be admitted to hospital, quoting my case as the reason why. 'l'his, of'course, I understand, zrnd the reasoll why, at some disadvanLage to nr-yself , I havt'tlrnc cverything in m.y power to achieve an internal i.rntl private settlenrrut ot nry casc. Which brings me to Nlr !'reenrlrn's dishoncst account of'nr.v attenrpts to seek redress.

In ortler to nail lhe lie lbout my suddenly complaining to the Army six years after the event. here is the chronology of my attempts to lay my allegations of unlawful activity:*

151

150

ination, then he would. Despite my repeated requeststo see my wife to resolve what exactly she was saying, B refused to allow me access to her.

After ordering me not to discuss my work with the Army Medical

StaffB secretl/made an allegation to them that I had

disobeyed

ordeis, and suggested that this was an indication of my mental stress.

On 4 iune f g75 he wrote a report justifying his actions, in which he alleged that I was mentally ill. (It was from this document that the Arniy Board ordered that all reference to mental illness should be removed, not from my medical records.) I was informed ofthe existence of thi's report some months after my release from hospital; it was intended lhat I should never see it. On 12 June 1975, during a visit from my CO, he informed me that I would not be returning to my job in Ulster (thi. b"foru I had even taken the three written medical tests at the hospital). He offered me the same job based in England, but with a three-month tour in the Caribbean, and on my refusing it, attempted to bribe and then threaten me.

The MOD have refused to address these minor discrepencies, of course, and cannot explain why, after that visit' B informed my wife, in front of a witness, that I was seriously ill and thatshe should immediately take our children from their school and prepare to return to England.

As to Mr Freeman's account of my stay at Netley hospital, what he failed to reveal to his audienbe in the House of Commons was thatjust about very medical regulation appertaining to a person in my position was either ignored or broken.

I took three tests at Netley; they were supervised by Major Brown RAMC, the resident psychologist at the hospital, and,-as my c1s9 officer, the only doctoi,-apart irom the Commanding Officer LtCol Stewart, to have anything to do with me' I was shown my marked papers by him, which showed me to be'normal'. On my asking why I was stili a patient, Brown informed me that he could not make any comment at I *t. a special case under the sole control of Lt Col Malo. Brown was not invited to be a member Stewart. Needless to that sat on my case. of the Medical Board "ay, After Lt Col stewart refused to tell me why I was still a patient at the hospital, I demanded a second medical opinion from a doctor of my own choice. iontrary to Army Medical Regulation, this right was refused.

(I was held at thl hospital until my family were removed from Ulster.)

I was refused weekend leave from the hospital, despite leave being granted to patients who were diagnosed as ill; this, combined with the 6rder I had received confining me to the hospital grounds, was unprecedented.

I was dischalged from the hospital on 30 June, with a discharge note signed by Lt Cdi Srcwart, clearly showing me to have been medically down-giaded t'rom 52 to Sll {emotionally not fully fit). Yet the MOD

in response to a question in the House from Ken Livingstone, that the Medical Board which sat on my case did not do so until four days later. That Board's President was Lt Col Stewart, its two members were Captain Cantlay, the offrcer from Netley who had interviewed me for five minutes at Musgrave Park hospital's military wing in Belfast, and who had referred me to Netley because he had no facilities there, and a Naval Officer I had been introduced to while I was making a telephone call. Those contacts were the only ones I had with these two doctors. Readers may find it germane if I explain the difference between 52 and S3 in the PULHEEMS medical classification system which is applicable to all HM Forces:52 Emotionally fit to perform Army Duties adequately under full combatant conditions in any part of the world.

S3 Although having a history of emotional instability, at present well adjusted and fit to serve in any part ofthe world in a role that is not have admitted

primarily a fighting one.

This adjustment is the minimum available that can be used to remove a person from an active service area.

It goes without saying that I had no history of emotional instability either in my childhood medical records or my Army medical records before the Netley down-grading.

Again, in answer to a question in the House, the MOD admitted that my medical records should be made available to my civilian medical adviser or my legal adviser after I'd left the Army. On the three occasions that my medical and legal representative have requested to see the records the MOD have refused their requests. The reason just might be that the Medical Board's findings at Netley (which I had the temerity to obtain brief access to) state quite clearly that the Board considered me to be suffering from'occupational maladjustment'and 'environmental disorientation', conditions hardly in keeping with the Army Board's promulgation that although they are not prepared to amend my medical documents, no stigma should be attached to me.

I am aware from'off the record'briefings that the MOD are perfectly aware that I am a victim of political psychiatry. One journalist was informed by an oflicial Army sp'okesperson some years ago that although he privately conceded the issue, the Army would never publicly admit it, because it might lead to genuinely ill soldiers refusing to be admitted to hospital, quoting my case as the reason why. 'l'his, of'course, I understand, zrnd the reasoll why, at some disadvanLage to nr-yself , I havt'tlrnc cverything in m.y power to achieve an internal i.rntl private settlenrrut ot nry casc. Which brings me to Nlr !'reenrlrn's dishoncst account of'nr.v attenrpts to seek redress.

In ortler to nail lhe lie lbout my suddenly complaining to the Army six years after the event. here is the chronology of my attempts to lay my allegations of unlawful activity:*

152

153

I.27 July L976 Initial complaint in writing to Lt Col R Ching RCT, CO of 12 Driver Training Regiment RCT. Acknowledged and forwarded to higher authority.

2.1976 Verbal complaint made

to

Hampshire police Special Branch at

Winchester, where I was warned that if I persisted with my complaint, I would be charged under the Official Secrets Act. 3. 1976

Verbal complaints made to the Metropolitan Police Special Branch, who refused to accept them 'on orders from the very top'.

4.L977 Verbal complaints made to MrRobertBanks, my MPandthenShadow Defence Minister, confirmed in correspondence. He refused to process my complaints after consulting Mr R C Brown, Principal Under Secretary to the Ministry of Defence.

5. t977 Formal written statements made to North Yorkshire Police Special Branch. Contrary to their assurance to me that they would process my complaints, they in fact passed them on to the Metropolitan Police, who took no action and who have refused to explain their reasons for their

inaction.

6.1982 Formal written statements made to Essex Police. Special Branch MI5 requested the Chief Constable not to process my complaints. He refused and sent them to the RUC, where they should have been sent on previous occasions of complaint.

7.1983 received complaints

I

in writing from witnesses supporting

my

complaints that the RUC are refusing to accept evidence and are refusing to ask witnesses questions that are relevant to their inquiries.

The RUC attempt to persuade me to drop my complaints by appealing to my sense of loyalty and claiming that they cannot trace witnesses that I, with my limited resources, have located. I am visited in my home by Essex policemen, who state that it is their beliefthatthe RUC are manifestly covering up my case, not investigating it. They recommend that I approach Duncan Campbellofthe New Statesman and ask him to investigate my allegations.

8.1984 Campbell publishes his findings, substantiating my allegations.

9. 1984 The DPP (Northern lreland) states that there is insufficient evidence to substantiate my allegations (despite the RUC's refusal to consider fresh evidence that I possess). {I possess all the correspondence relating to these attempts.)

A,s for my complaints and requests for an inquiry into the Netley .business, they started

on the day I was released. The Army claims thai they have carried out many inquiries into the facts; this is nonsense. I can comment on one so-+alled 'inquiry'and the facts are interesting. In reply to my two appeals to the Army Board under Section tgO oithe Army Act they claimed that they had carried out an inquiry and that

no further inquiry was necessary into new evidence that i hai obtained and that would be the end of the matter.

I investigated their inquiry, not too dilficult at the time as I was still serving. What I found was that the Army Board had passed my allegations to Lt Col B whom I was accusing, and that ne naa ordered his subordinates to -produce statements supporting his judgement.

Happl_ly, some refused, others, with an eye-to promotion, wf,o were

actively in dirty tricks, supplied him with what he wanted. Some investigation. The correct procedure for dealing with my complaints

should have been for the Army Board to have ,rpon the special police to Investigation Branch of the Royal Military "ilt"d orrt .., inquiry under their own laid-down rules oi procedure. ""rry Thai did not happen. The MOD will not, naturally, address this issue.

There is one final twist to the affair. It may take me many more

years to discover all the minor details of my story, but it has come as no great surprise to me to learn, only last year (19gg), that Lt Col B my Commanding Officer in Ulster and the man who manufactured thl evidence that sent me to Netley, is currently serving as a member of MI5. He transferred three years ago from theintelligence Corps, and is this moment serving undercover in - yes, yon hurn" guessed it 3rj................

Ulster.

152

153

I.27 July L976 Initial complaint in writing to Lt Col R Ching RCT, CO of 12 Driver Training Regiment RCT. Acknowledged and forwarded to higher authority.

2.1976 Verbal complaint made

to

Hampshire police Special Branch at

Winchester, where I was warned that if I persisted with my complaint, I would be charged under the Official Secrets Act. 3. 1976

Verbal complaints made to the Metropolitan Police Special Branch, who refused to accept them 'on orders from the very top'.

4.L977 Verbal complaints made to MrRobertBanks, my MPandthenShadow Defence Minister, confirmed in correspondence. He refused to process my complaints after consulting Mr R C Brown, Principal Under Secretary to the Ministry of Defence.

5. t977 Formal written statements made to North Yorkshire Police Special Branch. Contrary to their assurance to me that they would process my complaints, they in fact passed them on to the Metropolitan Police, who took no action and who have refused to explain their reasons for their

inaction.

6.1982 Formal written statements made to Essex Police. Special Branch MI5 requested the Chief Constable not to process my complaints. He refused and sent them to the RUC, where they should have been sent on previous occasions of complaint.

7.1983 received complaints

I

in writing from witnesses supporting

my

complaints that the RUC are refusing to accept evidence and are refusing to ask witnesses questions that are relevant to their inquiries.

The RUC attempt to persuade me to drop my complaints by appealing to my sense of loyalty and claiming that they cannot trace witnesses that I, with my limited resources, have located. I am visited in my home by Essex policemen, who state that it is their beliefthatthe RUC are manifestly covering up my case, not investigating it. They recommend that I approach Duncan Campbellofthe New Statesman and ask him to investigate my allegations.

8.1984 Campbell publishes his findings, substantiating my allegations.

9. 1984 The DPP (Northern lreland) states that there is insufficient evidence to substantiate my allegations (despite the RUC's refusal to consider fresh evidence that I possess). {I possess all the correspondence relating to these attempts.)

A,s for my complaints and requests for an inquiry into the Netley .business, they started

on the day I was released. The Army claims thai they have carried out many inquiries into the facts; this is nonsense. I can comment on one so-+alled 'inquiry'and the facts are interesting. In reply to my two appeals to the Army Board under Section tgO oithe Army Act they claimed that they had carried out an inquiry and that

no further inquiry was necessary into new evidence that i hai obtained and that would be the end of the matter.

I investigated their inquiry, not too dilficult at the time as I was still serving. What I found was that the Army Board had passed my allegations to Lt Col B whom I was accusing, and that ne naa ordered his subordinates to -produce statements supporting his judgement.

Happl_ly, some refused, others, with an eye-to promotion, wf,o were

actively in dirty tricks, supplied him with what he wanted. Some investigation. The correct procedure for dealing with my complaints

should have been for the Army Board to have ,rpon the special police to Investigation Branch of the Royal Military "ilt"d orrt .., inquiry under their own laid-down rules oi procedure. ""rry Thai did not happen. The MOD will not, naturally, address this issue.

There is one final twist to the affair. It may take me many more

years to discover all the minor details of my story, but it has come as no great surprise to me to learn, only last year (19gg), that Lt Col B my Commanding Officer in Ulster and the man who manufactured thl evidence that sent me to Netley, is currently serving as a member of MI5. He transferred three years ago from theintelligence Corps, and is this moment serving undercover in - yes, yon hurn" guessed it 3rj................

Ulster.

155

GLOSSARY ANFO An explosive mixture of chemicals used in bomb rnaking by Republican terrorists.

Elf Bomb Intelligence Team, usually composed ol'an officer and stat'I' sergeant plus clerk, based at Brigade Headquarters.

Bombord Army designation for IRA produced anti-armour missile and firing tube.

Coche Concealed hiding place for weapons and equipment.

CASEVAC Casualty evacuation to place oftreatnrent.

CID Criminal Investigation Department of police lbrce.

C/ondie Slang for clandestine.

Co/lofor Person who collates and reviews intellige'nce from all sources and evaluates trends.

Confro//er Person who directsa handler of sources.

CO-OP mix An alternative mixture of chemicals used in bomb making by Republican terrorists.

Cover As in: to take cover, to conceal'oneself from sight or danger; to give cover, to provide protection to another person; cover name, a nickname or pseudonym to protect true identity. \,

EOD Explosive Ordnance Disposal.

Folse Nome Used by members of MI5 and MI6 whilst working under cover of Cjvil Service appointments.

F,NCO Field Intelligence Non*Commissioned Oflicers, menrbers o{' the Intelligence Corps.

FEIIX Felix The Cat being the unoff icial symbol of EOD, this word has a generic application to matters involving bombs, bombing and those involved in disposal.

GSO General Staff Offrcer, an apppointment, not a rank. GSO 3 (Grade 3) are usually Captains, GSO 2's are usually Ma.jors and GSO l's are usually Lieutenant Colonels. There are horvever exceptions to this rule.

Hondler A person who runs a source on a person to person basis.

Hide A location from which a person can see without being seen.

HQN, Headquarters Northern lreland, based at Lisburn. /RSP Irish Republican Socialist Party, in the 1970s a breakaway group from the Provisionals and the Offrcials, some of whose members carried out acts of terrorism. The IRSP subsequently formed their own

armed wing, the lNtA- Irish National Liberation Army. Marxist in

doctrine.

/O Intelligence Officer, an appointment in the resident unit. lngrom An extremely small 9mm sub machine gun which could easily be concealed under a civilian anorak, with a high rate offire and a 30 round magazine. It was ideal for covert operations. Offrcially designated MACl0 or MACIl depending on its calibre, it was known to the British Army by the name of its inventor Gordon B. lngram. It was issued in Ireland with a very elficient silencer.

L34Al Sile.nced sterling sub machine gun, a more arvkward and

155

GLOSSARY ANFO An explosive mixture of chemicals used in bomb rnaking by Republican terrorists.

Elf Bomb Intelligence Team, usually composed ol'an officer and stat'I' sergeant plus clerk, based at Brigade Headquarters.

Bombord Army designation for IRA produced anti-armour missile and firing tube.

Coche Concealed hiding place for weapons and equipment.

CASEVAC Casualty evacuation to place oftreatnrent.

CID Criminal Investigation Department of police lbrce.

C/ondie Slang for clandestine.

Co/lofor Person who collates and reviews intellige'nce from all sources and evaluates trends.

Confro//er Person who directsa handler of sources.

CO-OP mix An alternative mixture of chemicals used in bomb making by Republican terrorists.

Cover As in: to take cover, to conceal'oneself from sight or danger; to give cover, to provide protection to another person; cover name, a nickname or pseudonym to protect true identity. \,

EOD Explosive Ordnance Disposal.

Folse Nome Used by members of MI5 and MI6 whilst working under cover of Cjvil Service appointments.

F,NCO Field Intelligence Non*Commissioned Oflicers, menrbers o{' the Intelligence Corps.

FEIIX Felix The Cat being the unoff icial symbol of EOD, this word has a generic application to matters involving bombs, bombing and those involved in disposal.

GSO General Staff Offrcer, an apppointment, not a rank. GSO 3 (Grade 3) are usually Captains, GSO 2's are usually Ma.jors and GSO l's are usually Lieutenant Colonels. There are horvever exceptions to this rule.

Hondler A person who runs a source on a person to person basis.

Hide A location from which a person can see without being seen.

HQN, Headquarters Northern lreland, based at Lisburn. /RSP Irish Republican Socialist Party, in the 1970s a breakaway group from the Provisionals and the Offrcials, some of whose members carried out acts of terrorism. The IRSP subsequently formed their own

armed wing, the lNtA- Irish National Liberation Army. Marxist in

doctrine.

/O Intelligence Officer, an appointment in the resident unit. lngrom An extremely small 9mm sub machine gun which could easily be concealed under a civilian anorak, with a high rate offire and a 30 round magazine. It was ideal for covert operations. Offrcially designated MACl0 or MACIl depending on its calibre, it was known to the British Army by the name of its inventor Gordon B. lngram. It was issued in Ireland with a very elficient silencer.

L34Al Sile.nced sterling sub machine gun, a more arvkward and

156

clumsy 9mm weapon, used predominently in darkness or from cover, it could not be concealed ifthe firer was in the open.

MI5 The Security Service, its role was to combat espionage in the United Kingdom and British Overseas Territories, but wrth the decline of the empire it has sought a new role monitoring domestic targets that are considered subversive by the Government ofthe day.

Works closely with the Special Branch.

Ml6The Intelligence Service, officially MI6 does not exist, it operates mainly abroad and is responsible for providing intelligence on any perceived external threat to the Realm.

MIO Military Intelligence Oflicer, a member of the Special Military Intelligence Unit (SMIU), a volunteer, who after training at the Joint Services School oflntelligence has been selected for active duty. Once selected his parent regiment ofcorps show him (or her) to be ExtraRegimentally Employed GRE). His or her tour of duty normally lasts three years.

Ml[O Military Intelligence Liaison Offrcer, a volunteer who after training at JSSI is employed by the Intelligence Corps to act as a liaison officer with the police force in the area of conflict.

Minor Unit A unit or company, squadron size or below.

Nicknomes Although the use of nicknames is general in the armed forces, the SAS use them as policy in order to make identification of their members difficult.

NIIAT Northern Ireland Tlaining and Advisory Team, a special unit found in England and with the British Army in Germany, which gives pre-theatre training to units due to serve in Ulster. Used as a second layer of cover for special forces serving in the Province if their false unit title proves insufficient to convince fellow soldiers oftheir cover

title.

OIRA Offrcial IRA, broke away from the Provisionals in the early 1970s in a dispute over ideolory. Arranged a separate truce with the Security Forces, but in reality continued to liaise with the Provisionals and provide them with intelligence and weapons. Sometimes known as

Stickies because their symbol, a paper lily, worn on the lapel, was

adhesive backed.

OP Observation Post, a hidden location from which surveillance can be carried out.

PO Police Office, the official term for the RUC's interrogation centres, PO1 was at Castlereagh, PO2 at Magilligan.

PIRA Provisional IRA, the most overtly active Republican group who have consistently believed that history has shown that the British will only withdraw from a colonised country if they are forced to by armed struggle. Failure to achieve their aim in the 1970s has forced them to modify their campaign to one of dual armed struggle and political initiative, the Armalite and the Ballot Box. PUTHEEMS A British Joint Services system of Medical Classifi-

.t57

cation used as an assessment in the employment of service men and wgmgn. The system requires the general use of the following terminology:

P-

Physical Capacity

U-UpperLimbs L - Locomotion H - Hearing (hearing acuity) EE -Eyesight (visual acuity) M - Mental capacity S - Stability (emotional)

QCor A civilian vehicle of cument make and type used by service personnel on covert work.

Residenl Bn Resident Battalions are the m4jor units allotted to serve in^specifrc areas ofthe Province for a tour ofduty which usually covers a four month period.

RP9 A Warsaw Pact or Chinese rocket propelled grenade and recoiless Launching tube designed to destroy- armoured ve[icles. lUQRgyal Ulster Constabulary.

RUCI-O Royal Ulster Constabulary Liaison Officer, this appointment can range from senior NCO attached to a rural police statlon to a Lt. Col. attached to the offrce of the Chief Constable.

Ry Rendevous or meeting.

Recce Reconnaissance or search.

SAS_Special Air Service, a regiment of the British Army.

SB Spgcial Branch, this arm of the British police developed from the Irish Branch of scotland Yard's cID set up tb counter the activities of the Irish Republican Brotherhood, successors to the Fenians. Until

1958 SB was run entirely by the Metropolitan police and most of its officers were based in London. Today, all provincial police forcee have their own units and it is estimat€d that 1,800 SB oflicers are based outside the capitol.

SMrU (N,) Special Military Intelligence Unit, Northern lreland.

SMIU_s are not permanently establisehd units, they are created for specific campaigns when it is deemed that the situatibn calls for a unit

of this type. They do not appear on the Army List, but are administered

by lhe Intellignce Corps. In Ulster, the Commanding Officer, his 2ic and a small clerical staffwere based at RUC He, Knolk, Belfast. This cell was co-located with the Head of Special Branch for liaison and intelligence reasons. SMIU provided intllligence trained officers and NCOs to be attached to Special Branch- offices throughout the Province. These MIOs and FINCOs were given a written charter stating the parameters of their terms of employment and although soldiers, their terms stated that their primeloyalty lay to the RIIC Special Branch, not to the Army.

Their tasks included: Liaison between Army and Police at a local level;

156

clumsy 9mm weapon, used predominently in darkness or from cover, it could not be concealed ifthe firer was in the open.

MI5 The Security Service, its role was to combat espionage in the United Kingdom and British Overseas Territories, but wrth the decline of the empire it has sought a new role monitoring domestic targets that are considered subversive by the Government ofthe day.

Works closely with the Special Branch.

Ml6The Intelligence Service, officially MI6 does not exist, it operates mainly abroad and is responsible for providing intelligence on any perceived external threat to the Realm.

MIO Military Intelligence Oflicer, a member of the Special Military Intelligence Unit (SMIU), a volunteer, who after training at the Joint Services School oflntelligence has been selected for active duty. Once selected his parent regiment ofcorps show him (or her) to be ExtraRegimentally Employed GRE). His or her tour of duty normally lasts three years.

Ml[O Military Intelligence Liaison Offrcer, a volunteer who after training at JSSI is employed by the Intelligence Corps to act as a liaison officer with the police force in the area of conflict.

Minor Unit A unit or company, squadron size or below.

Nicknomes Although the use of nicknames is general in the armed forces, the SAS use them as policy in order to make identification of their members difficult.

NIIAT Northern Ireland Tlaining and Advisory Team, a special unit found in England and with the British Army in Germany, which gives pre-theatre training to units due to serve in Ulster. Used as a second layer of cover for special forces serving in the Province if their false unit title proves insufficient to convince fellow soldiers oftheir cover

title.

OIRA Offrcial IRA, broke away from the Provisionals in the early 1970s in a dispute over ideolory. Arranged a separate truce with the Security Forces, but in reality continued to liaise with the Provisionals and provide them with intelligence and weapons. Sometimes known as

Stickies because their symbol, a paper lily, worn on the lapel, was

adhesive backed.

OP Observation Post, a hidden location from which surveillance can be carried out.

PO Police Office, the official term for the RUC's interrogation centres, PO1 was at Castlereagh, PO2 at Magilligan.

PIRA Provisional IRA, the most overtly active Republican group who have consistently believed that history has shown that the British will only withdraw from a colonised country if they are forced to by armed struggle. Failure to achieve their aim in the 1970s has forced them to modify their campaign to one of dual armed struggle and political initiative, the Armalite and the Ballot Box. PUTHEEMS A British Joint Services system of Medical Classifi-

.t57

cation used as an assessment in the employment of service men and wgmgn. The system requires the general use of the following terminology:

P-

Physical Capacity

U-UpperLimbs L - Locomotion H - Hearing (hearing acuity) EE -Eyesight (visual acuity) M - Mental capacity S - Stability (emotional)

QCor A civilian vehicle of cument make and type used by service personnel on covert work.

Residenl Bn Resident Battalions are the m4jor units allotted to serve in^specifrc areas ofthe Province for a tour ofduty which usually covers a four month period.

RP9 A Warsaw Pact or Chinese rocket propelled grenade and recoiless Launching tube designed to destroy- armoured ve[icles. lUQRgyal Ulster Constabulary.

RUCI-O Royal Ulster Constabulary Liaison Officer, this appointment can range from senior NCO attached to a rural police statlon to a Lt. Col. attached to the offrce of the Chief Constable.

Ry Rendevous or meeting.

Recce Reconnaissance or search.

SAS_Special Air Service, a regiment of the British Army.

SB Spgcial Branch, this arm of the British police developed from the Irish Branch of scotland Yard's cID set up tb counter the activities of the Irish Republican Brotherhood, successors to the Fenians. Until

1958 SB was run entirely by the Metropolitan police and most of its officers were based in London. Today, all provincial police forcee have their own units and it is estimat€d that 1,800 SB oflicers are based outside the capitol.

SMrU (N,) Special Military Intelligence Unit, Northern lreland.

SMIU_s are not permanently establisehd units, they are created for specific campaigns when it is deemed that the situatibn calls for a unit

of this type. They do not appear on the Army List, but are administered

by lhe Intellignce Corps. In Ulster, the Commanding Officer, his 2ic and a small clerical staffwere based at RUC He, Knolk, Belfast. This cell was co-located with the Head of Special Branch for liaison and intelligence reasons. SMIU provided intllligence trained officers and NCOs to be attached to Special Branch- offices throughout the Province. These MIOs and FINCOs were given a written charter stating the parameters of their terms of employment and although soldiers, their terms stated that their primeloyalty lay to the RIIC Special Branch, not to the Army.

Their tasks included: Liaison between Army and Police at a local level;

159

158

Appendices Recruiting and running sources of information and intelligence; Assisting the RUC when requested to do so;briefing the Brigade Commander and his staff on all -i?rt"ttig"tt"" -neg"iutiv -alterr relevant to his bailiwick and in matters of Province wide; trends, future Briefing advance party intelligence staffs ofresident battalions.

B;i;fid regularfy resident battalion commanding oflicers and company commanders; the permission of the commanding offrce-r of .

-In some cases, with SUtUttttIl, running sources and agents for the Security Intelligence Service (MI6); Taking c6vert SAS and SBS units when requested; Interrogations ofarmy or police held suspects; Reconnaissance of no-go areas.

MIOs and FINCOs attached to RUC Divisions that were active were obviously quite busy, in safer rural areas, less so' SOUnCf A p""ron who provides informati-on on Intelligence that ,""rit, him oi her to be tai<en on the books ofa handler. Described in

The text of my lelter

of resignotion f rom the Army.

V Squadron, Royal Corps of T ransport.

Buller Batacks, Aldcrshot,

HANTS. T he C o mmanding O fficer,

12 Driuer Training Regiment, Royal Corps of Transprt,

Aldershot,

HANTS. August 1976

police terminology as an informant.

IOCO Police $enes of Crimes officers, who carry out a range of sonhisticated forensic tasks at the scene ofa crime' SL'*/.h Continuous buzz or hiss on radio set in use wheir actual transmissions are not being made.

UDA Ulster Defence Association, a non-proscribed Loyalist organlsatlo., which is, and always has been involved in terrorism against

Presumably allowed on the principle of my enemy's enemy is my friend.

UVf Unt"t Volunteer Force, the more active and extreme rump of the UDA, a proscribed organisation' UFf bGt"t Freedori Fighters, another proscribed loyalist organisation and the na-e usud by terrorists from the UDA and uvF when

*p"Uti"u"t.

they have carried out an act ofoutrage.

Sir, Resignation of my Commission in Her Majesty's Forces

I have tried to live my life to the standards set to me by my original Regiment, the 1st Regiment, Royal Horse Artillery. There, I was taught the fundamentals of soldiering, obedience, honour, truth and justice. What has happened since my service in Northern Ireland, and the quite proper action that I took to send my wife and children home to England, has totally detroyed my During the past sixteen years

faith and

conf,rdence in the

British Army.

The dishonesty, evasion, blackmail and veiled threats that I have been subjected to, coupled with the lack ofloyalty and moral courage displayed by senior officers of my own Corps, have combined to make me

realise that only lip-service is being paid to the military virtues. In truth the British Army is prepared to disown the moral principles which it claims to represent if it is politically expedient to do so. It is prepared to betray the trust of those individuals like myself who wish to believe in honour.

The essence of my appeal to the Army Board of the Defence Council was simple. A straightforward independent inquiry on oath would have revealed within two weeks what injustice had been done and remedial action could have been taken which would have avoided months of unhappiness and domestic strife.

159

158

Appendices Recruiting and running sources of information and intelligence; Assisting the RUC when requested to do so;briefing the Brigade Commander and his staff on all -i?rt"ttig"tt"" -neg"iutiv -alterr relevant to his bailiwick and in matters of Province wide; trends, future Briefing advance party intelligence staffs ofresident battalions.

B;i;fid regularfy resident battalion commanding oflicers and company commanders; the permission of the commanding offrce-r of .

-In some cases, with SUtUttttIl, running sources and agents for the Security Intelligence Service (MI6); Taking c6vert SAS and SBS units when requested; Interrogations ofarmy or police held suspects; Reconnaissance of no-go areas.

MIOs and FINCOs attached to RUC Divisions that were active were obviously quite busy, in safer rural areas, less so' SOUnCf A p""ron who provides informati-on on Intelligence that ,""rit, him oi her to be tai<en on the books ofa handler. Described in

The text of my lelter

of resignotion f rom the Army.

V Squadron, Royal Corps of T ransport.

Buller Batacks, Aldcrshot,

HANTS. T he C o mmanding O fficer,

12 Driuer Training Regiment, Royal Corps of Transprt,

Aldershot,

HANTS. August 1976

police terminology as an informant.

IOCO Police $enes of Crimes officers, who carry out a range of sonhisticated forensic tasks at the scene ofa crime' SL'*/.h Continuous buzz or hiss on radio set in use wheir actual transmissions are not being made.

UDA Ulster Defence Association, a non-proscribed Loyalist organlsatlo., which is, and always has been involved in terrorism against

Presumably allowed on the principle of my enemy's enemy is my friend.

UVf Unt"t Volunteer Force, the more active and extreme rump of the UDA, a proscribed organisation' UFf bGt"t Freedori Fighters, another proscribed loyalist organisation and the na-e usud by terrorists from the UDA and uvF when

*p"Uti"u"t.

they have carried out an act ofoutrage.

Sir, Resignation of my Commission in Her Majesty's Forces

I have tried to live my life to the standards set to me by my original Regiment, the 1st Regiment, Royal Horse Artillery. There, I was taught the fundamentals of soldiering, obedience, honour, truth and justice. What has happened since my service in Northern Ireland, and the quite proper action that I took to send my wife and children home to England, has totally detroyed my During the past sixteen years

faith and

conf,rdence in the

British Army.

The dishonesty, evasion, blackmail and veiled threats that I have been subjected to, coupled with the lack ofloyalty and moral courage displayed by senior officers of my own Corps, have combined to make me

realise that only lip-service is being paid to the military virtues. In truth the British Army is prepared to disown the moral principles which it claims to represent if it is politically expedient to do so. It is prepared to betray the trust of those individuals like myself who wish to believe in honour.

The essence of my appeal to the Army Board of the Defence Council was simple. A straightforward independent inquiry on oath would have revealed within two weeks what injustice had been done and remedial action could have been taken which would have avoided months of unhappiness and domestic strife.

r60

In retrospect, the initial time taken and the nature ofthe reply from the Army Board should have indicated that the Army Board were not prepared to admit that a mistake of grave moral importance had been made. Subsequent evidence and appeals forwarded to the Army Board have borne this out.

I accuse Lt. Col. B, my former Commanding Officer of: Negligence, in that he did not carry out an investigation into the truth of the allegations made against me, but accepted them and passed them on as fact to the medical authorities at Musgrave Park Hospital andVH Netley.

Deception and lying, in that he deliberately lied to me and to my wife, compounding an already diflicult situation, (Brigadier DCV Stewart AMC has already admitted this to be true).

Using me as his scapegaot, when it became apparent to both him and Lt. Col. DCV Stewart that my wife was lying. It was impossible to let me return to Northern Ireland because he would be made to look foolish by my presence, hence the offer of the MIO United Kingdom Land Forces job and the subsequent downgrading when I refused to take it.

]t!t::iYl

I accuse Brigadier DCV Stewart AMC of: Refusing to allow me my lawful right to a second medical opinion by a doctor of my own choice. (Army Medical Regulations) Being deliberately selective when gathering evidence in my case by refusing to speak to witnesses in my defence,supportingmywife's allegations (my wife has written a complete confession stating that they were imaginary or grossly overstated) despite her obvious discrepencies and independent medical statements supporting my case.

rmpen my case even on humanitarian grounds to help my wife's condition, despite evidence becoming available which contradicts his diagnosis.

(The Army Medical Regulations lay great stress on keeping an open mind and thorough research and evidence taking) Refusing to re-consider or

Refusing me an independent appeal within the Army Medical Branch.

I

do not know yet, whether Brigadier DCV Stewart behaved unethically by letting a so--called Medical Board be used to prevent a political embarrassment, or was just incompetent. I frnd it difficult to believe the latter however.

The fact that the Army Board of the Defence Council are aware of all the details ofthe evidence I have produced and yet still allow a diag-

161

nosis to stand in my medical records, despite the doubtful methods used to produce it, can only lead me to one conclusion.

There is no other alternative but to resign my Commission in a force which has lost its honour.

There are those in the world today who say that Great Britain is no longer Great, that greed, ambition and lethargy have sapped the will of those who represent it. In the past I have stood with those who denied this. I can do so no longer. The trust is broken, those whose duty it was to set the standards have failed. It is a tragedy that I and others are witness to.

F. J. Holroyd

r60

In retrospect, the initial time taken and the nature ofthe reply from the Army Board should have indicated that the Army Board were not prepared to admit that a mistake of grave moral importance had been made. Subsequent evidence and appeals forwarded to the Army Board have borne this out.

I accuse Lt. Col. B, my former Commanding Officer of: Negligence, in that he did not carry out an investigation into the truth of the allegations made against me, but accepted them and passed them on as fact to the medical authorities at Musgrave Park Hospital andVH Netley.

Deception and lying, in that he deliberately lied to me and to my wife, compounding an already diflicult situation, (Brigadier DCV Stewart AMC has already admitted this to be true).

Using me as his scapegaot, when it became apparent to both him and Lt. Col. DCV Stewart that my wife was lying. It was impossible to let me return to Northern Ireland because he would be made to look foolish by my presence, hence the offer of the MIO United Kingdom Land Forces job and the subsequent downgrading when I refused to take it.

]t!t::iYl

I accuse Brigadier DCV Stewart AMC of: Refusing to allow me my lawful right to a second medical opinion by a doctor of my own choice. (Army Medical Regulations) Being deliberately selective when gathering evidence in my case by refusing to speak to witnesses in my defence,supportingmywife's allegations (my wife has written a complete confession stating that they were imaginary or grossly overstated) despite her obvious discrepencies and independent medical statements supporting my case.

rmpen my case even on humanitarian grounds to help my wife's condition, despite evidence becoming available which contradicts his diagnosis.

(The Army Medical Regulations lay great stress on keeping an open mind and thorough research and evidence taking) Refusing to re-consider or

Refusing me an independent appeal within the Army Medical Branch.

I

do not know yet, whether Brigadier DCV Stewart behaved unethically by letting a so--called Medical Board be used to prevent a political embarrassment, or was just incompetent. I frnd it difficult to believe the latter however.

The fact that the Army Board of the Defence Council are aware of all the details ofthe evidence I have produced and yet still allow a diag-

161

nosis to stand in my medical records, despite the doubtful methods used to produce it, can only lead me to one conclusion.

There is no other alternative but to resign my Commission in a force which has lost its honour.

There are those in the world today who say that Great Britain is no longer Great, that greed, ambition and lethargy have sapped the will of those who represent it. In the past I have stood with those who denied this. I can do so no longer. The trust is broken, those whose duty it was to set the standards have failed. It is a tragedy that I and others are witness to.

F. J. Holroyd

163

162

Ihis document, reioined from the lntelligence course ot the Joint Services School of

lnfelligence, delines lhe wrilten ch arter ol oln MtO..(! hove ot o lotertime underlined seciions of thrfond other documents which ore reproduced here.)

wt{IIE

l0r Where ntllta:ry forres have to bc erployeil ln a mle of atA to ttE olvll porur lt Ttll bc rcocssartrr to arang. Jolnt planntng ard oqduot of operatlons. A Jol.nt 0peratlons Centre aight be eatabllsheil t9 lntegrate polloo and ntlltaqy aotlvltlee but Speoial Brarch rhoulil atlll rctaln ulttnats contnol rrrless thct 6 bas boen a vcty aerLous tlctcrtoratl,on of ttre lnternal sltuatlotr. In sm? territodee, notab\y fiong Kong, Joint organlaatlon

continulng feature.

The MIO

ln

for lntelllgence

and otrrratloas

rri1l bc a

Socclal Branch

nebâ&#x201A;Źr of offlosrs rtth $!411 staffg to toid,torles as l01ltary fntslllgerna OffLcers.

Others arc postcdl as Ml1ltar1y Intelltgencc Llalson Offloors (Mllra) wtth formatlons of thc Strsteglc Courantl or in oertal.n ovsrseaa theatres3 these oonstitute nescrves fot MI0s but also have thelr wn epeolflo tlutles as llalson offl.cers. Both !trOs anit MfIOg are oontrolleil by ttr y'Lntstry of Defcrcc ln a r.nit callcct the Sloolat ltH.l"l'taqy Intc11lgercc

11.

Ttrc Brdtl.shArry tlcploys a

oolonlal or

dlependlent

14. llte n!,lttary rceponslbllltles rlll for ercrgpnoy oonititl,ons, ln parttoular

be @ncctarea rdth prclraratlon! atM.ce

to tlrc pollce

orr ttrc

requJ.rerent.

15. In a state of erErgency where lnsurgent fo ces hail dleveloped ho be the apprqrrlato cholce to organize andl take clrarge of an loulil Otrrratl.onal Intelligence Wtng rtrich toulil beconre neoesaarlr in SpeoLal Brarrch.

M[.Og

16. These provlde the llnk betneen the Strategl-c Connand. anil tlc tetritonr concerneil when an enErgency ar.Lses. A MII! rt11 nolrnally Precefle urrl,ts to a dleslgnated area of operatlcts, effect Llalson nlt*r the MIO and prordtle contlanrlty of 1ntelJ.1ggnce for the couaandler. The ercployrent of MIIOs ls at the illscretlon of the theatre cormander, eo they are- not subJect to control of Special Brarnh ln any ray. One or nore nlght, hovever, be placeil rlth Special Branch to sirpplarent ttre rork of the ltrO, or to becone ],ltOs trherc one dlil not eAst before.

Conclwlqr 17.

Urdt.

12, fn all lntenral sccurity qreratlons un(lertakcn ty the Bdtlsh Arty, lnltially ttre prlrrlple source of operatl.onal lntelllgence wiLL be the Poltoe Strrclal Branotr. CcnroanilerE of troops aent to, or olnrat:lng lnp a terr{tlry mrEt hane early and regrrlar access to this Lntelllgenoe ard It ls the functlon of, the ltrO ln Spoclal Branoh to ensuro that all avallablc relevant lntelllgence feaohes the omnantlcr tn tfute fc Lts usc anit ln a proper usable forn To thls enil MIOs arn part of Brl'tteh aontlngency plannfng, belag

statloett per:oanently ln possible trouble sltuatlon

ar,eas ;na iarsequen[iy belng tnfo:netl oontlnuous\r on the 1ocal

18.

No a-ttenpt has been rnailc hcre

to conalilcr

penetratLon of Spccial Br:anch or of of course these roulil be a pr.l.orlty there been sorril3'cratlon of problems to presenze thc sccur:lty of special

pr.obJ.erns

aristng frm

govenilnent deprtrnents genera$r, antt

target fo4 insr:rgents. Nor has arlsing frm a rped for gwernnents agerri.es

or rfi.vltles.

A fr:cc

nutual erchange of lntelllgence coulit be tnhlbltett r*rlch voulil pose Eetions dll.fflcultles for the posltlon of thc ltrO and for Bd.tlsh forces generally ln thc area; horever srrh dlevolopmentE shoulil be anticlpatett atd speclal consl&retLon glven to then at thc time. sep 73

tt rcultl

enablc hln to

1-4 RES1ITICTEID

163

162

Ihis document, reioined from the lntelligence course ot the Joint Services School of

lnfelligence, delines lhe wrilten ch arter ol oln MtO..(! hove ot o lotertime underlined seciions of thrfond other documents which ore reproduced here.)

wt{IIE

l0r Where ntllta:ry forres have to bc erployeil ln a mle of atA to ttE olvll porur lt Ttll bc rcocssartrr to arang. Jolnt planntng ard oqduot of operatlons. A Jol.nt 0peratlons Centre aight be eatabllsheil t9 lntegrate polloo and ntlltaqy aotlvltlee but Speoial Brarch rhoulil atlll rctaln ulttnats contnol rrrless thct 6 bas boen a vcty aerLous tlctcrtoratl,on of ttre lnternal sltuatlotr. In sm? territodee, notab\y fiong Kong, Joint organlaatlon

continulng feature.

The MIO

ln

for lntelllgence

and otrrratloas

rri1l bc a

Socclal Branch

nebâ&#x201A;Źr of offlosrs rtth $!411 staffg to toid,torles as l01ltary fntslllgerna OffLcers.

Others arc postcdl as Ml1ltar1y Intelltgencc Llalson Offloors (Mllra) wtth formatlons of thc Strsteglc Courantl or in oertal.n ovsrseaa theatres3 these oonstitute nescrves fot MI0s but also have thelr wn epeolflo tlutles as llalson offl.cers. Both !trOs anit MfIOg are oontrolleil by ttr y'Lntstry of Defcrcc ln a r.nit callcct the Sloolat ltH.l"l'taqy Intc11lgercc

11.

Ttrc Brdtl.shArry tlcploys a

oolonlal or

dlependlent

14. llte n!,lttary rceponslbllltles rlll for ercrgpnoy oonititl,ons, ln parttoular

be @ncctarea rdth prclraratlon! atM.ce

to tlrc pollce

orr ttrc

requJ.rerent.

15. In a state of erErgency where lnsurgent fo ces hail dleveloped ho be the apprqrrlato cholce to organize andl take clrarge of an loulil Otrrratl.onal Intelligence Wtng rtrich toulil beconre neoesaarlr in SpeoLal Brarrch.

M[.Og

16. These provlde the llnk betneen the Strategl-c Connand. anil tlc tetritonr concerneil when an enErgency ar.Lses. A MII! rt11 nolrnally Precefle urrl,ts to a dleslgnated area of operatlcts, effect Llalson nlt*r the MIO and prordtle contlanrlty of 1ntelJ.1ggnce for the couaandler. The ercployrent of MIIOs ls at the illscretlon of the theatre cormander, eo they are- not subJect to control of Special Brarnh ln any ray. One or nore nlght, hovever, be placeil rlth Special Branch to sirpplarent ttre rork of the ltrO, or to becone ],ltOs trherc one dlil not eAst before.

Conclwlqr 17.

Urdt.

12, fn all lntenral sccurity qreratlons un(lertakcn ty the Bdtlsh Arty, lnltially ttre prlrrlple source of operatl.onal lntelllgence wiLL be the Poltoe Strrclal Branotr. CcnroanilerE of troops aent to, or olnrat:lng lnp a terr{tlry mrEt hane early and regrrlar access to this Lntelllgenoe ard It ls the functlon of, the ltrO ln Spoclal Branoh to ensuro that all avallablc relevant lntelllgence feaohes the omnantlcr tn tfute fc Lts usc anit ln a proper usable forn To thls enil MIOs arn part of Brl'tteh aontlngency plannfng, belag

statloett per:oanently ln possible trouble sltuatlon

ar,eas ;na iarsequen[iy belng tnfo:netl oontlnuous\r on the 1ocal

18.

No a-ttenpt has been rnailc hcre

to conalilcr

penetratLon of Spccial Br:anch or of of course these roulil be a pr.l.orlty there been sorril3'cratlon of problems to presenze thc sccur:lty of special

pr.obJ.erns

aristng frm

govenilnent deprtrnents genera$r, antt

target fo4 insr:rgents. Nor has arlsing frm a rped for gwernnents agerri.es

or rfi.vltles.

A fr:cc

nutual erchange of lntelllgence coulit be tnhlbltett r*rlch voulil pose Eetions dll.fflcultles for the posltlon of thc ltrO and for Bd.tlsh forces generally ln thc area; horever srrh dlevolopmentE shoulil be anticlpatett atd speclal consl&retLon glven to then at thc time. sep 73

tt rcultl

enablc hln to

1-4 RES1ITICTEID

164

165

Ihis reference cleorly shows thot os for os fhe RUC were concemed, loid down inthe MIO's'chonef.

I

fully met lhe criterio os

My covering letier, senf with theWollocelHolroydfiletothePime Minister,lollowedbyolist ofthe filet contents.

!ROl{: Assistmt Chief Consttble C H

Roilgers

OBE

THE ROYAL ULSTER CONSTABULARY Portadown Co Armagh Northcrn lrcland 8T62

3ND

Telephone Portadown 3242415

From: Fred,erick John Holroyd 22 Febnary 19??

Flat 1 t J1{, Station

Road,

Westcliffe,

Southend-on-Sea, Essex.

Eo nh@ conce+eil

/November, 1184.

Captaln Fred J Folt'oyil is well lorown to ue. During hls serice with the g"it1"?, Amy in Northern fralancl J net hio a1oost daily. IIe Ras at thet time a uenber of the Brigede Staff but attechecl to the RoyaL

lnster

The Rt.Hon.,Mrs.l'largaret Thatcher,l{P,

Prine l.4inister, 10, Douning Street,

ConstabularT.

founat hirn to be a nan of unqursli6nr"tle loyaltyr outstantling corirage with ilevotl-on to drrty that one fooks for but rar€fy finds totlay,

I

During the tl.o years he ras attached to the Royal Ulster Constabd'aqy, the Force enjoyed a success reco:d againgt terrorists in rny area whlch has not been equalled before or since. ft is ny eonsiileled opinlon thet the part Ciptain fiolroyrt playetl na6e a ver? significant contrlbution to our succeas.

Eis leaalershlp qualities anil tleilication inspired the nen arouncl hLrn.

116

alxayB

put the Sorvice first.

lntentls to spply for a posltion in the yeam of erP€rienco alealing with terrorrste u"y that he ls e:ceptlonally well equippeil for anJr cdmand positLon that i ".o 1oyaIty, courage, tledicatlon anil antl-torrorist k[ot-hott' requires'.mtl€Tstanal that Captain Folroyd Rtrodeslan Arroed Forcls. Fron [y long

I

for the posltion he is oeeking.

I votrld be pleased to 8'ive ansvotlt at any tine conceratlng lilr EolloJdrs suitabtllty

I

liecomrnend

hi.n uru'oselrredly

London,

SW1.

near Prime Ministe:,

I have been requested by John Colin Wallace to forward his letter and attached. file to you. I was first introduced to Colin I'lallace in Headquarters

Northern IreIud, Lisburn in 19?3. Our respecti.ve areas of.responsibiliti"es were separate and I only learnt of his misfortunes J.n early 1lB{. I have spent a considerable anount of tine this year looking at various aspects of his case, and can confirm that many facets mirror my own case.

After eight fruitless years trying to get the Ministry of Defence, vari.ous poli.ce forces entl rny Members of Parliarnent to process my c.r.se I wentr.in 1983, in desperation to the Press, who confirmed my allegations in the early months of thi.s year and they in a restraineC way, drew attention to my case. r was therefore surprised uhen your governnent issued a statement to the DaiI in Dublin claiming no knowledge of my allegations. As I write this letter I have before ae colrespondance with Mr. Robert Banks, MP, and ltr. Crofton Broun, PUS Defenca, sholring this not to be the case. After rnuch discussion with Colin Wallace, we have decicled to make one last atternpt to see justice d.one in our cases, by appealing to you directly and asklng you to take a personal interest in ensuri.ng that proper i.ngui.ries are carried out. I hope that then, perhaps, the who1e squalid business may be ret,olved satisfactorily w-ith no more publicity, Yours sincerely,

(* il!*

,c

Asslst&at Chi Royal

dlster Const.buln!:/

rreo Holro.#.

164

165

Ihis reference cleorly shows thot os for os fhe RUC were concemed, loid down inthe MIO's'chonef.

I

fully met lhe criterio os

My covering letier, senf with theWollocelHolroydfiletothePime Minister,lollowedbyolist ofthe filet contents.

!ROl{: Assistmt Chief Consttble C H

Roilgers

OBE

THE ROYAL ULSTER CONSTABULARY Portadown Co Armagh Northcrn lrcland 8T62

3ND

Telephone Portadown 3242415

From: Fred,erick John Holroyd 22 Febnary 19??

Flat 1 t J1{, Station

Road,

Westcliffe,

Southend-on-Sea, Essex.

Eo nh@ conce+eil

/November, 1184.

Captaln Fred J Folt'oyil is well lorown to ue. During hls serice with the g"it1"?, Amy in Northern fralancl J net hio a1oost daily. IIe Ras at thet time a uenber of the Brigede Staff but attechecl to the RoyaL

lnster

The Rt.Hon.,Mrs.l'largaret Thatcher,l{P,

Prine l.4inister, 10, Douning Street,

ConstabularT.

founat hirn to be a nan of unqursli6nr"tle loyaltyr outstantling corirage with ilevotl-on to drrty that one fooks for but rar€fy finds totlay,

I

During the tl.o years he ras attached to the Royal Ulster Constabd'aqy, the Force enjoyed a success reco:d againgt terrorists in rny area whlch has not been equalled before or since. ft is ny eonsiileled opinlon thet the part Ciptain fiolroyrt playetl na6e a ver? significant contrlbution to our succeas.

Eis leaalershlp qualities anil tleilication inspired the nen arouncl hLrn.

116

alxayB

put the Sorvice first.

lntentls to spply for a posltion in the yeam of erP€rienco alealing with terrorrste u"y that he ls e:ceptlonally well equippeil for anJr cdmand positLon that i ".o 1oyaIty, courage, tledicatlon anil antl-torrorist k[ot-hott' requires'.mtl€Tstanal that Captain Folroyd Rtrodeslan Arroed Forcls. Fron [y long

I

for the posltion he is oeeking.

I votrld be pleased to 8'ive ansvotlt at any tine conceratlng lilr EolloJdrs suitabtllty

I

liecomrnend

hi.n uru'oselrredly

London,

SW1.

near Prime Ministe:,

I have been requested by John Colin Wallace to forward his letter and attached. file to you. I was first introduced to Colin I'lallace in Headquarters

Northern IreIud, Lisburn in 19?3. Our respecti.ve areas of.responsibiliti"es were separate and I only learnt of his misfortunes J.n early 1lB{. I have spent a considerable anount of tine this year looking at various aspects of his case, and can confirm that many facets mirror my own case.

After eight fruitless years trying to get the Ministry of Defence, vari.ous poli.ce forces entl rny Members of Parliarnent to process my c.r.se I wentr.in 1983, in desperation to the Press, who confirmed my allegations in the early months of thi.s year and they in a restraineC way, drew attention to my case. r was therefore surprised uhen your governnent issued a statement to the DaiI in Dublin claiming no knowledge of my allegations. As I write this letter I have before ae colrespondance with Mr. Robert Banks, MP, and ltr. Crofton Broun, PUS Defenca, sholring this not to be the case. After rnuch discussion with Colin Wallace, we have decicled to make one last atternpt to see justice d.one in our cases, by appealing to you directly and asklng you to take a personal interest in ensuri.ng that proper i.ngui.ries are carried out. I hope that then, perhaps, the who1e squalid business may be ret,olved satisfactorily w-ith no more publicity, Yours sincerely,

(* il!*

,c

Asslst&at Chi Royal

dlster Const.buln!:/

rreo Holro.#.

166

167

corfla$s

3.

the disclosure "Political and security inplicationstoregardiJrg assist j-'r the jlvestigation of security classified inforuation of ihe allegations relatilg to the Kilcora Soysr Hostel, Belfest'rl Li.st of personalLties reLated to serial 1 above. list of Psychologioal Operations targets - lPolitical-r.

4.

Activities

5.

6.

RUC bacicgrowrd

7.

8.

rThe Folio Documentr

9, 1C.

Seven docu:nents

List of Intelligence,

11.

"lhe Kincora ilquiry -

1.

2,

to ciestabllige the Fiarula lail

ttesiSrreci

Governrnent.

brj.ef on r1arar.

Anny rurabtributabJ.e press

brief on rtarar.

as rleaked.t by Norihern Irelazrd

office soulces.

tThe Ulster Citizens Arnyr background notes.

related to serial I RUC

sbove.

and Arrny personalities related

sunnarlr

to serials

l{r Peter tsrod'erick.

Civil

13.

Extracts fron Arurual ConfidentiaL Repo:is tot 1971'74 - John Colln I9a1lace, Senior Infom.etion Cificer, Anay Eeadquariers, N. Irela.ncl.

'|4,

Backgrouncl

15.

Statement by the

Service Appeal Board

-

statement by

notes - 3enrarrl Dea:sley, 12 idarLe! st, cheriton, Folkestone.

Institution of Professional Civ1l Servarits.

notes - Civil Service Appeal' Board.

16.

Backgrouncl

17.

Letter fron

L{OD

Ci'I(A)3c dated 30 Sept 1974

19.

il

r

19.

x

20.

rr

rr listrict Secreta4t, Hq NY District dated '11 Feb rr Civil Serrice Appeal Boaril dated 9 Oct 1975

.

'ir rr

2?-,

n

x

i,10.D

il

'r

Five letters fron Airey l{eave irIP dated, 1)76h7

24,

Letter fron

2r.

Letter to ldr l{ichael l{arshall

26.

Letter fron the Secretary of State for Northern lrelantt

27,

Lette: fron

28.

Letter fron itr l;iichael }larshaLl

29,

letter fron the D/US of S for the

30.

l,etter to the lirecto: of

31.

Letter fron

32.

Letter iron ihe )ir:ecio! of Arny Security dated

13 Dec 1982.

33,

Letter to the Director of Aroy Security dated,2l

Dec 1932.

34.

Letter froa the

35,

letter to Thonas Eggar & Son (solicitors) regard.ing the Pri-ne ili-nlsteltg letter antl dateil 1.{ Feb 1933.

36,

Letter fron ihe Director of

17.

Letter to the Director of

18.

tetter from the

39.

Letter frol the lirector of

40.

Leiter fron the Lord

41,

Letter to the.Lord

42.

Letter fron the

43.

letber fron the l,ord Charcellol

44,

?eiition to the

45.

Letter to the

+6.

Letter

of events relating to requests for

information froio John Colia [alIace, forner senior Inforoation oft'icer at Arqy Eeadquariers il Northern Ireland and Captain il the Ulster Defence ilegirnent, by the Royal Jlster Constabulary.rr

12,

21

1-3.

23,

13Jan1975

ci,I(A)lc dated 2! llov 19?5

rr Dapattnent of Enploylent dated

1975

MP

(solicitors) dated 29

19.1?

datecl 10 Oct 1!92.

frorn

The Director

Thomas Eggar

Pri.ne

Prime

tre

Arrny

Security daled.2J Oct

MP

dated 2E

dated

)ct

the

Petiticn to the

1982.

Anny Security d.ated 13 l{ov 1!82.

& Son

ltriniste!

(solicitors)

d.ated 1J Not 1)82.

ttatecl 2J Jan 1983.

Ar.oy

Security d.aterl 28 Feb

1983.

A::ny Security datecl 5 Ms.r 19g3.

l,finister ilatetl 9 lrlar

19e3.

A:rqr Security d.atett

ChanceLlor dated 13

April

1! Ilay

2! Mat

1983.

1983.

1983.

Society of Northern IreLand. dabett J l{ay

Ho:oe

1983.

datecl 22 Jurr 19B3.

Secretarlr dated 20 Aug 1983.

Avebury (inc1 groun,1s

Lorcl Avebury

to

Je.rnes

for Appe,rl) dated g Jen 1g84,

Clevett datect 2J Jan

.Iud.gernent.rl

Eoae

1982,

Aroed Forces d"ateal 2e O& 19g2.

Cha.ncellor d.ated

Law

Lorrd.

of

47. rrApplications for leave to appeal against Conviction 4e.

AptL:.

2O Sept 1!82.

counenbs on

22 I'lov 1!'f6

James & Charles Dod.d

Secretary datecl 1! l{arch 1!S{.

a;:.d.

1984.

Senience

-

166

167

corfla$s

3.

the disclosure "Political and security inplicationstoregardiJrg assist j-'r the jlvestigation of security classified inforuation of ihe allegations relatilg to the Kilcora Soysr Hostel, Belfest'rl Li.st of personalLties reLated to serial 1 above. list of Psychologioal Operations targets - lPolitical-r.

4.

Activities

5.

6.

RUC bacicgrowrd

7.

8.

rThe Folio Documentr

9, 1C.

Seven docu:nents

List of Intelligence,

11.

"lhe Kincora ilquiry -

1.

2,

to ciestabllige the Fiarula lail

ttesiSrreci

Governrnent.

brj.ef on r1arar.

Anny rurabtributabJ.e press

brief on rtarar.

as rleaked.t by Norihern Irelazrd

office soulces.

tThe Ulster Citizens Arnyr background notes.

related to serial I RUC

sbove.

and Arrny personalities related

sunnarlr

to serials

l{r Peter tsrod'erick.

Civil

13.

Extracts fron Arurual ConfidentiaL Repo:is tot 1971'74 - John Colln I9a1lace, Senior Infom.etion Cificer, Anay Eeadquariers, N. Irela.ncl.

'|4,

Backgrouncl

15.

Statement by the

Service Appeal Board

-

statement by

notes - 3enrarrl Dea:sley, 12 idarLe! st, cheriton, Folkestone.

Institution of Professional Civ1l Servarits.

notes - Civil Service Appeal' Board.

16.

Backgrouncl

17.

Letter fron

L{OD

Ci'I(A)3c dated 30 Sept 1974

19.

il

r

19.

x

20.

rr

rr listrict Secreta4t, Hq NY District dated '11 Feb rr Civil Serrice Appeal Boaril dated 9 Oct 1975

.

'ir rr

2?-,

n

x

i,10.D

il

'r

Five letters fron Airey l{eave irIP dated, 1)76h7

24,

Letter fron

2r.

Letter to ldr l{ichael l{arshall

26.

Letter fron the Secretary of State for Northern lrelantt

27,

Lette: fron

28.

Letter fron itr l;iichael }larshaLl

29,

letter fron the D/US of S for the

30.

l,etter to the lirecto: of

31.

Letter fron

32.

Letter iron ihe )ir:ecio! of Arny Security dated

13 Dec 1982.

33,

Letter to the Director of Aroy Security dated,2l

Dec 1932.

34.

Letter froa the

35,

letter to Thonas Eggar & Son (solicitors) regard.ing the Pri-ne ili-nlsteltg letter antl dateil 1.{ Feb 1933.

36,

Letter fron ihe Director of

17.

Letter to the Director of

18.

tetter from the

39.

Letter frol the lirector of

40.

Leiter fron the Lord

41,

Letter to the.Lord

42.

Letter fron the

43.

letber fron the l,ord Charcellol

44,

?eiition to the

45.

Letter to the

+6.

Letter

of events relating to requests for

information froio John Colia [alIace, forner senior Inforoation oft'icer at Arqy Eeadquariers il Northern Ireland and Captain il the Ulster Defence ilegirnent, by the Royal Jlster Constabulary.rr

12,

21

1-3.

23,

13Jan1975

ci,I(A)lc dated 2! llov 19?5

rr Dapattnent of Enploylent dated

1975

MP

(solicitors) dated 29

19.1?

datecl 10 Oct 1!92.

frorn

The Director

Thomas Eggar

Pri.ne

Prime

tre

Arrny

Security daled.2J Oct

MP

dated 2E

dated

)ct

the

Petiticn to the

1982.

Anny Security d.ated 13 l{ov 1!82.

& Son

ltriniste!

(solicitors)

d.ated 1J Not 1)82.

ttatecl 2J Jan 1983.

Ar.oy

Security d.aterl 28 Feb

1983.

A::ny Security datecl 5 Ms.r 19g3.

l,finister ilatetl 9 lrlar

19e3.

A:rqr Security d.atett

ChanceLlor dated 13

April

1! Ilay

2! Mat

1983.

1983.

1983.

Society of Northern IreLand. dabett J l{ay

Ho:oe

1983.

datecl 22 Jurr 19B3.

Secretarlr dated 20 Aug 1983.

Avebury (inc1 groun,1s

Lorcl Avebury

to

Je.rnes

for Appe,rl) dated g Jen 1g84,

Clevett datect 2J Jan

.Iud.gernent.rl

Eoae

1982,

Aroed Forces d"ateal 2e O& 19g2.

Cha.ncellor d.ated

Law

Lorrd.

of

47. rrApplications for leave to appeal against Conviction 4e.

AptL:.

2O Sept 1!82.

counenbs on

22 I'lov 1!'f6

James & Charles Dod.d

Secretary datecl 1! l{arch 1!S{.

a;:.d.

1984.

Senience

-

169

168 The.regly fromlhe Prime Minisfer/s

to the Lord

49.

Letter fron l{r

50.

Reply frora the Eone Office to ny

,1.

Petition io the

52.

Letter io i.tr iriichael I'iarshall

,3,

letier froa the

54.

Copy

of fake C.I.A. Identity

,r.

Copy

of falce

56,

Copy

of fo:ged labour Party leaflet

57,

Ccpies

David.

llellor

IdP

Avebury dated 17 Aug 1984.

tro petitions

d.atecl

2l

trookploce.

ffi

August 1!8{.

Houe Secretary dated 2J August 1984.

Horoe

l,[P d.ated

Oifice to

rJoro,-owristr

1..Ir

1 Sept 1!8{.

lo DOWNING STREET

l{ichael l.larshaLl d.ated { Oct 1984,

Card'.

office-os we nowknow,,lhorough,rnvestigolions ne,er

From the Private Setetary

leaflet planted in

Crange

of fo:ged bark stateneqts for!(etut4l''i Ti

4

21 November

1984

Halls etc.

5pt{ , ta* tltt*+..)

Aiter lhe government onnounced tlre creolion of on 'lnfelligence Counsellor'- someone for intelligence oflicers lo foke comploinslond onxielies io - Ken Livingstone osked the Speoker of tfre-Houseo numberof quesfions in l-',lovember 1987 oboutlhepossibilityof ColinWolloce ond myself tolking -lo this 'Counsellor'. Ihe Speoke r ruled lhe queslions out ol order until Ken produced evidence tfioieitlrer Colin or mysell hodbeen members of, orhod seled,in Ml5or 'M16.

But the Ministty ol Defence refused io confirm or deny this. Ken presenled onolher series of queslions in Februory, 1988, osking whether the governmenl would omend the Counsellort remit to enoble him to see Colin ond mysel[. The Prime Minisbrt onswer wos 'no'.

''>-/ f\4 *iJt, The Prime triinister has asked me to thank you for your letter of I November, with which you enclosed a letter from Mr. Colin lrlallace.

The Prime Minister understands t.hat all your allegations of criminal activity have been the subject of a very

Mr. wallace's case has also been the consideration. Ile has, the understands, petitioned the Home Secretary about his trial and conviction most thorough

enquLies Tnto-Gircumstances which led up to his resignation from the Ministry of Defence, and into the nKincora affairi, and in both cases

I return your letter.

[t{r.

l{allace's file which you forwarded with

169

168 The.regly fromlhe Prime Minisfer/s

to the Lord

49.

Letter fron l{r

50.

Reply frora the Eone Office to ny

,1.

Petition io the

52.

Letter io i.tr iriichael I'iarshall

,3,

letier froa the

54.

Copy

of fake C.I.A. Identity

,r.

Copy

of falce

56,

Copy

of fo:ged labour Party leaflet

57,

Ccpies

David.

llellor

IdP

Avebury dated 17 Aug 1984.

tro petitions

d.atecl

2l

trookploce.

ffi

August 1!8{.

Houe Secretary dated 2J August 1984.

Horoe

l,[P d.ated

Oifice to

rJoro,-owristr

1..Ir

1 Sept 1!8{.

lo DOWNING STREET

l{ichael l.larshaLl d.ated { Oct 1984,

Card'.

office-os we nowknow,,lhorough,rnvestigolions ne,er

From the Private Setetary

leaflet planted in

Crange

of fo:ged bark stateneqts for!(etut4l''i Ti

4

21 November

1984

Halls etc.

5pt{ , ta* tltt*+..)

Aiter lhe government onnounced tlre creolion of on 'lnfelligence Counsellor'- someone for intelligence oflicers lo foke comploinslond onxielies io - Ken Livingstone osked the Speoker of tfre-Houseo numberof quesfions in l-',lovember 1987 oboutlhepossibilityof ColinWolloce ond myself tolking -lo this 'Counsellor'. Ihe Speoke r ruled lhe queslions out ol order until Ken produced evidence tfioieitlrer Colin or mysell hodbeen members of, orhod seled,in Ml5or 'M16.

But the Ministty ol Defence refused io confirm or deny this. Ken presenled onolher series of queslions in Februory, 1988, osking whether the governmenl would omend the Counsellort remit to enoble him to see Colin ond mysel[. The Prime Minisbrt onswer wos 'no'.

''>-/ f\4 *iJt, The Prime triinister has asked me to thank you for your letter of I November, with which you enclosed a letter from Mr. Colin lrlallace.

The Prime Minister understands t.hat all your allegations of criminal activity have been the subject of a very

Mr. wallace's case has also been the consideration. Ile has, the understands, petitioned the Home Secretary about his trial and conviction most thorough

enquLies Tnto-Gircumstances which led up to his resignation from the Ministry of Defence, and into the nKincora affairi, and in both cases

I return your letter.

[t{r.

l{allace's file which you forwarded with

170

17'l

Fufther obfuscotion in the 'correspondence' compoign - cleorly, it mokes o great deol of difference whether you possess on originol o r a coPY, ond Colin Wolloce's file wos .olwoys ovoiloble for the Commitfee io loo k ot, were the outhorities inclined lo let him show them it!

l.'r'()i;r: ;1

P.laiiielrl

, Cencral Staff Secrel,aritLi

Once ogoin,the'officiol'version skotes overlhe focts , ond doesn't oddress ihe keyguestions either of my medicol downgroding (efiectively borring me from future odive service in

Northernlreland)orthemonnerinwhich

my

removolfroi Northern lrelondwos engineered.

MINISTRY OF DEFENCE

2

MAIN BUILDING WHITEHALL LONDON SW,IA 2HB rerephone

MINISTRY OF DEFENCE

or

I ^a7..i.6.€

., o',"r, oiat^st

01 218 gOOO(Swirchboard)

Maln Buildlng Whitehall London SWIA 2HB Telephon€: (Dlroct Dlalllng) 01-218

M'niste. of State for Defence Support

(Swltchbo.rd) 01'2189000

D,/Mln(DS)DGT 01440

F liolr'oyd F1a.i.

Esq

1

3l-a iiia lion

\testcliffe Sou

1

C/ February I986

L-O

Your ielgrenc€

Our rerference Ii /

Fload

G

ii i3ec/66/73/I

D/CS

t;ec/66/r3/2

Oat€

thend-on-Sea

lTtlarclr

Essex

19B6

for your letter of I February ralslng the case of Captaln Fredrlck Holroyd of Flat l, 314 Statlon Road, Westcllff, and also that of Mr Col-ln Wa1lace. Both these cases are wefl known to me as both have been regular correspondents not only wlth myseLf but also wlth the Prlme Mlnlster and the Home Secretary.

Thank you

-D* l\. 1tog}, i have once agla.in been asked to rei:1y t.o your 1€1test letter 1-o Lord Trefgarne of 9 I'larch 1935.

I can adcl Lo my previous lethers; to in fact, lhere is very little vou, The questi on of wilethel' or rio L the f i Ie :'eturned l.o vou was photocop.y € tfi:rt you sent to the Prirne iii+iFter is in fac[ of I have already explained, so f:-tl' ali c:ln be -f:.rrlteg itnport-a-nce. A.s -ascer"l:rined frolr, our reco|ds the file v,/as I.eturneci in the same st;ai| ils i1. was r^ecr.)ivecl ancl:rL tlte Lirre vJe had no reason to believe othe !viSe.ifaco}ryw€JSinadVertent1ysubstiluted_.Ugj.@.' even :hougil out'. irlvestig.lt-ions have not p|odl'.lced anything io suggesrr tnat ttris djcl happen - i,his does not al-ter the fact lilat we have be|t unable t,o find either'lihe orj.ilj.nals or any other conli)1et.e copy. i:-qual1y, a conplete file was I'eturned (whei.her pilotosiaE o)'original I

Captaln Holroyd was posted to Northern Ireland 1n the mld 1970s ln a very hlgh-pressure Job, a sltuatlon exacerbated by the hlgh standards he set hlmself r .b9&DEiIIg!L!.e,

and .eJqjq9.E_L.g, spent

sltuatlon 1n the Provlnce al personal safety, the adrnlsslon of a mllltary offlcer to a c1v111an psychlatrlc hospltal, he was returned to England and referred to bhe Royal Vlctorla Hospltal NetIey.

chlat rlc

Lee h:)d

After

1*.

/4> &#\---

one nonth Captaln Holroyd was dlscharged from Hospltal j,nd

bo a ment

roblem were

ver, Captaln Holroyd was not satls.flled unable to do thls as they consldered that, as laynen, l,Ig.y_Cpffk|. not suppress A-_Qsc_t-.o-p.r.q -q4p-r9s.s-!q[--of _f_rfs pr9!9-s-S1Ar-r.A_l--!lsg!gl

170

17'l

Fufther obfuscotion in the 'correspondence' compoign - cleorly, it mokes o great deol of difference whether you possess on originol o r a coPY, ond Colin Wolloce's file wos .olwoys ovoiloble for the Commitfee io loo k ot, were the outhorities inclined lo let him show them it!

l.'r'()i;r: ;1

P.laiiielrl

, Cencral Staff Secrel,aritLi

Once ogoin,the'officiol'version skotes overlhe focts , ond doesn't oddress ihe keyguestions either of my medicol downgroding (efiectively borring me from future odive service in

Northernlreland)orthemonnerinwhich

my

removolfroi Northern lrelondwos engineered.

MINISTRY OF DEFENCE

2

MAIN BUILDING WHITEHALL LONDON SW,IA 2HB rerephone

MINISTRY OF DEFENCE

or

I ^a7..i.6.€

., o',"r, oiat^st

01 218 gOOO(Swirchboard)

Maln Buildlng Whitehall London SWIA 2HB Telephon€: (Dlroct Dlalllng) 01-218

M'niste. of State for Defence Support

(Swltchbo.rd) 01'2189000

D,/Mln(DS)DGT 01440

F liolr'oyd F1a.i.

Esq

1

3l-a iiia lion

\testcliffe Sou

1

C/ February I986

L-O

Your ielgrenc€

Our rerference Ii /

Fload

G

ii i3ec/66/73/I

D/CS

t;ec/66/r3/2

Oat€

thend-on-Sea

lTtlarclr

Essex

19B6

for your letter of I February ralslng the case of Captaln Fredrlck Holroyd of Flat l, 314 Statlon Road, Westcllff, and also that of Mr Col-ln Wa1lace. Both these cases are wefl known to me as both have been regular correspondents not only wlth myseLf but also wlth the Prlme Mlnlster and the Home Secretary.

Thank you

-D* l\. 1tog}, i have once agla.in been asked to rei:1y t.o your 1€1test letter 1-o Lord Trefgarne of 9 I'larch 1935.

I can adcl Lo my previous lethers; to in fact, lhere is very little vou, The questi on of wilethel' or rio L the f i Ie :'eturned l.o vou was photocop.y € tfi:rt you sent to the Prirne iii+iFter is in fac[ of I have already explained, so f:-tl' ali c:ln be -f:.rrlteg itnport-a-nce. A.s -ascer"l:rined frolr, our reco|ds the file v,/as I.eturneci in the same st;ai| ils i1. was r^ecr.)ivecl ancl:rL tlte Lirre vJe had no reason to believe othe !viSe.ifaco}ryw€JSinadVertent1ysubstiluted_.Ugj.@.' even :hougil out'. irlvestig.lt-ions have not p|odl'.lced anything io suggesrr tnat ttris djcl happen - i,his does not al-ter the fact lilat we have be|t unable t,o find either'lihe orj.ilj.nals or any other conli)1et.e copy. i:-qual1y, a conplete file was I'eturned (whei.her pilotosiaE o)'original I

Captaln Holroyd was posted to Northern Ireland 1n the mld 1970s ln a very hlgh-pressure Job, a sltuatlon exacerbated by the hlgh standards he set hlmself r .b9&DEiIIg!L!.e,

and .eJqjq9.E_L.g, spent

sltuatlon 1n the Provlnce al personal safety, the adrnlsslon of a mllltary offlcer to a c1v111an psychlatrlc hospltal, he was returned to England and referred to bhe Royal Vlctorla Hospltal NetIey.

chlat rlc

Lee h:)d

After

1*.

/4> &#\---

one nonth Captaln Holroyd was dlscharged from Hospltal j,nd

bo a ment

roblem were

ver, Captaln Holroyd was not satls.flled unable to do thls as they consldered that, as laynen, l,Ig.y_Cpffk|. not suppress A-_Qsc_t-.o-p.r.q -q4p-r9s.s-!q[--of _f_rfs pr9!9-s-S1Ar-r.A_l--!lsg!gl

172

173

gplglg3r furthermore such al"teratlons could 1n future prove to be agalnst the lnterest of the patlent. @ was assured that the fact that he had been referl'ello-Ne'tlg,y@ur;*care#'.

Desplte havlng thls assurance and havlng had a slgnlflcant portlon of h1s appeal upheld Captaln Holroyd wa8 not satlsfled and he

MINISTRY OF DEFENCE MAIN BUILDING WHITEHALL LONDON SWIA 2HB Telephone 01-218. .. .

restgned 7n I976. can therefore

.

.. lDrrect

01-218 9ooo lsw[chboard

was men

can be no questl.!I__g_f-_qqt:lpenqa

Dialhng) )

PARLIAMENTARY UNOER. SECRflARY OF STATE

_.99--Per-s34

FOR THE ARMED FORCES

v 111-. but

D,/US

pursue

of S(AF) RNF 418

on the q ue s t l on of lLe*fel teF-e, qI: l-'lf*9._o.-ULl{ellpge.-J.g-e!lgtg_ qnd {l-,W_o-Uld _49_t_.Le_-* t_hat 1s q. matter f oI -!trg .Homg. s9.gle-t,qry * A;p ro6;ffi;Toi;:-E-e- !e-- c qmm-e-nt*-

le.Jr4

-)**,

Lord Trefgarne

r>J

.rury

1986

r

for conlng to dlscuss the case of your constltuent, Frederlck Holroyd.

Thank you

A s I e xpla 1 ne d, -the.__Yl-1n_1-g-!Jl_o_!*_Le_q9_n-9 9r -rCr-nA.1 ns una b1e t o mgnJ__gl_!ttg_qg.tg-!19! p,o-l,nts rnade by Mr Holroyd or that he

ac

ls

cep

Mr

t

entltled to compens . I was, however, able to clear up at l_east one polnt on whlch there seems to have been a genulne mlsunderstandlng. Mr Holroyd may have galned the lmpresslon frorn a comment 1n one of Davld Trefgarners l-etters to you that the Mlnlstry of Defence belleved that Mr Holroyd had attempted to cover up hls v1slt to DublLn 1n May l_975. Davld Trefgarners comment, whlch was not lntended to glve that lmpresslon, was made 1n a speclflc context; lt was lntended s1nply to show that Mr Holroyd had admltted that he had dlsobeyed the order -I-m and had clearly behaved 1n an '_nanler :!g=_pot-6eekTne !rregular gong_Sg. As Davld Trefgarne made clear ln a subsequent-letter, Mr Holroyd had flled reports on the lnformatlon obtalned durlng the vlslt whlch would have brought the lncldent to l1ght 1n due course.

I am happy to conflrm therefore that we certalnly accept that Mr Holroyd dld not seek to cover up thls v1slt. I hope also that I was able to reassure you about what was I belleve your maln concern, amely that thg_Utnlg-lpy ls not 1n any way seeklng to put obstacles n the way of Mr Holroydrs atternpts to make a new career for h-LmlslJ

Mr Holroyd has been parttcularly anxlous that the clrcumstances 1n whlch he left Northern Ireland In I975 should not be mlslnterpreted by any prospective future employer. I was therefore slad of the gpportunlty_ to make_clear that whlIe baptafn llolroyd (as_ ne tdert ildFf was cohs1tiEFet-tn-may-Tt75 to ne sufferlng from trre errects or sTress-, â&#x201A;Ź-h1s vias a purely temporary problem arislng f rom sevEF6--

172

173

gplglg3r furthermore such al"teratlons could 1n future prove to be agalnst the lnterest of the patlent. @ was assured that the fact that he had been referl'ello-Ne'tlg,y@ur;*care#'.

Desplte havlng thls assurance and havlng had a slgnlflcant portlon of h1s appeal upheld Captaln Holroyd wa8 not satlsfled and he

MINISTRY OF DEFENCE MAIN BUILDING WHITEHALL LONDON SWIA 2HB Telephone 01-218. .. .

restgned 7n I976. can therefore

.

.. lDrrect

01-218 9ooo lsw[chboard

was men

can be no questl.!I__g_f-_qqt:lpenqa

Dialhng) )

PARLIAMENTARY UNOER. SECRflARY OF STATE

_.99--Per-s34

FOR THE ARMED FORCES

v 111-. but

D,/US

pursue

of S(AF) RNF 418

on the q ue s t l on of lLe*fel teF-e, qI: l-'lf*9._o.-ULl{ellpge.-J.g-e!lgtg_ qnd {l-,W_o-Uld _49_t_.Le_-* t_hat 1s q. matter f oI -!trg .Homg. s9.gle-t,qry * A;p ro6;ffi;Toi;:-E-e- !e-- c qmm-e-nt*-

le.Jr4

-)**,

Lord Trefgarne

r>J

.rury

1986

r

for conlng to dlscuss the case of your constltuent, Frederlck Holroyd.

Thank you

A s I e xpla 1 ne d, -the.__Yl-1n_1-g-!Jl_o_!*_Le_q9_n-9 9r -rCr-nA.1 ns una b1e t o mgnJ__gl_!ttg_qg.tg-!19! p,o-l,nts rnade by Mr Holroyd or that he

ac

ls

cep

Mr

t

entltled to compens . I was, however, able to clear up at l_east one polnt on whlch there seems to have been a genulne mlsunderstandlng. Mr Holroyd may have galned the lmpresslon frorn a comment 1n one of Davld Trefgarners l-etters to you that the Mlnlstry of Defence belleved that Mr Holroyd had attempted to cover up hls v1slt to DublLn 1n May l_975. Davld Trefgarners comment, whlch was not lntended to glve that lmpresslon, was made 1n a speclflc context; lt was lntended s1nply to show that Mr Holroyd had admltted that he had dlsobeyed the order -I-m and had clearly behaved 1n an '_nanler :!g=_pot-6eekTne !rregular gong_Sg. As Davld Trefgarne made clear ln a subsequent-letter, Mr Holroyd had flled reports on the lnformatlon obtalned durlng the vlslt whlch would have brought the lncldent to l1ght 1n due course.

I am happy to conflrm therefore that we certalnly accept that Mr Holroyd dld not seek to cover up thls v1slt. I hope also that I was able to reassure you about what was I belleve your maln concern, amely that thg_Utnlg-lpy ls not 1n any way seeklng to put obstacles n the way of Mr Holroydrs atternpts to make a new career for h-LmlslJ

Mr Holroyd has been parttcularly anxlous that the clrcumstances 1n whlch he left Northern Ireland In I975 should not be mlslnterpreted by any prospective future employer. I was therefore slad of the gpportunlty_ to make_clear that whlIe baptafn llolroyd (as_ ne tdert ildFf was cohs1tiEFet-tn-may-Tt75 to ne sufferlng from trre errects or sTress-, â&#x201A;Ź-h1s vias a purely temporary problem arislng f rom sevEF6--

175 174

prellures_ both at home and at work andr after a relatlvely short period, Captaln Holroyd was consldered to have recovered csrnpFtel-y_. Thls lempo-_f_il'yjroqlem.dld not 1n any way reflect adversely on elther h1s character or hls competence as an offlcer and, had he chosen to remaln ln the Army he could have done so wlthout detrlment bo his career. I was also able to confirm.that, !cl_I_o!.,1n9 hls appeal to the Army Bbarci- in-T975, all Captaln EoTroydtS Army personnel recordswere amended to ensu-iFthaL there ng whlch mlqlrt have been read as lmply1ng-t,hs!-yr :,{ele Hotroyd ,rele_lences had beenie1taffy_111.

The Army Board also stated r!x[11cltly that 6-FEfEma"Frrbura be attached either to the Speclal Confldential Report or to the fact that Captal_n Holroyd had been to Netley, and I am happy to repeat this.

You also asked whether 1t woul-d be posslble to provlde a reference based on Mr Holroydrs Army servlce whlch he could show to a

prospectlve empl-oyer. If__Uf ,lplroyd requlres a detail_ed cha!'A_ctef refqrence 1t w111, of eourse, be necessary for hlm to app4oach somtione r^i-ho knew hlm well personally, such as a former ioma_anq-pg oEllCei. Nevertheless, I attach a g?nera1 record of Ur HofroVEi servlce drawn from h1s Army records whlch I hope w1lI be he1pfu1.

I wlll- be taklng the opportunity of the recess to study further the very large number of papers relating to this case and would be wl1]1ng to discuss the matter agaln ln due course 1f you feel thls woul-d be helpful . t{

'^" 'H\' [)-".^,

Roger Freernan

rhis leffer shows thol the MoD wete not prepored to move on inch lowords occepting the responsibilily for their complicity in these events, ond indeed, the ,Stotement ol Sei,i.., (opposite) implicitly suggests thot they were oding in my best inferests!

ilIMSTRY OF DEFENCE Maia Builrtir.g lThitchrl, London swr.r

zsl

Tdcphorc (Dircct Dirlling) or-zr8

(Srirchbord) or-2r8 9@

FJ

- STATEMENT OF SERVICE Mr Holroyd jolned the Arrny in 1960 and was commlssioned in 1964. He was promoted Captaln in 1969 and held this rank until his resignation in 9eptember 1976.

HOLROYD

Mr Holroydts personnel record shows him to have been a thoroughly competent officer who performed well in a wide variety of posts. His reports remark upon h1s enthusiasm and drive arld refer to his enJoyment of chal.lenging; physically demanding tasks. There is r:o reason why, had Mr Holroyd chosen to remaln in the Army, he shoulci not have been able to pursue a worthwhi-Ie and fr_rtfilLing Mr Holroyd has expressed concern that ln incident during his career in the Army could affect his job prospects in civilian 1if,e.

Luring L974/75 Mr Holroyd was ggpleyld in a very demanding post from which it was fe-l-t necessary io him as he was displiying slgns of stress. Howesâ&#x201A;Źr, aft94'a relatively "Lmoi. short period mr Hoiroya was considered to have râ&#x201A;Źoovered completely and this temporary proUlem did not in any way reflect adverlely oi either his character or his competence as an offiggt.

175 174

prellures_ both at home and at work andr after a relatlvely short period, Captaln Holroyd was consldered to have recovered csrnpFtel-y_. Thls lempo-_f_il'yjroqlem.dld not 1n any way reflect adversely on elther h1s character or hls competence as an offlcer and, had he chosen to remaln ln the Army he could have done so wlthout detrlment bo his career. I was also able to confirm.that, !cl_I_o!.,1n9 hls appeal to the Army Bbarci- in-T975, all Captaln EoTroydtS Army personnel recordswere amended to ensu-iFthaL there ng whlch mlqlrt have been read as lmply1ng-t,hs!-yr :,{ele Hotroyd ,rele_lences had beenie1taffy_111.

The Army Board also stated r!x[11cltly that 6-FEfEma"Frrbura be attached either to the Speclal Confldential Report or to the fact that Captal_n Holroyd had been to Netley, and I am happy to repeat this.

You also asked whether 1t woul-d be posslble to provlde a reference based on Mr Holroydrs Army servlce whlch he could show to a

prospectlve empl-oyer. If__Uf ,lplroyd requlres a detail_ed cha!'A_ctef refqrence 1t w111, of eourse, be necessary for hlm to app4oach somtione r^i-ho knew hlm well personally, such as a former ioma_anq-pg oEllCei. Nevertheless, I attach a g?nera1 record of Ur HofroVEi servlce drawn from h1s Army records whlch I hope w1lI be he1pfu1.

I wlll- be taklng the opportunity of the recess to study further the very large number of papers relating to this case and would be wl1]1ng to discuss the matter agaln ln due course 1f you feel thls woul-d be helpful . t{

'^" 'H\' [)-".^,

Roger Freernan

rhis leffer shows thol the MoD wete not prepored to move on inch lowords occepting the responsibilily for their complicity in these events, ond indeed, the ,Stotement ol Sei,i.., (opposite) implicitly suggests thot they were oding in my best inferests!

ilIMSTRY OF DEFENCE Maia Builrtir.g lThitchrl, London swr.r

zsl

Tdcphorc (Dircct Dirlling) or-zr8

(Srirchbord) or-2r8 9@

FJ

- STATEMENT OF SERVICE Mr Holroyd jolned the Arrny in 1960 and was commlssioned in 1964. He was promoted Captaln in 1969 and held this rank until his resignation in 9eptember 1976.

HOLROYD

Mr Holroydts personnel record shows him to have been a thoroughly competent officer who performed well in a wide variety of posts. His reports remark upon h1s enthusiasm and drive arld refer to his enJoyment of chal.lenging; physically demanding tasks. There is r:o reason why, had Mr Holroyd chosen to remaln in the Army, he shoulci not have been able to pursue a worthwhi-Ie and fr_rtfilLing Mr Holroyd has expressed concern that ln incident during his career in the Army could affect his job prospects in civilian 1if,e.

Luring L974/75 Mr Holroyd was ggpleyld in a very demanding post from which it was fe-l-t necessary io him as he was displiying slgns of stress. Howesâ&#x201A;Źr, aft94'a relatively "Lmoi. short period mr Hoiroya was considered to have râ&#x201A;Źoovered completely and this temporary proUlem did not in any way reflect adverlely oi either his character or his competence as an offiggt.

176

177

of the time. He said that

would hove been osicnished, lwe nly yeors ogo, to think thot I would lind myself the subjecl of o m.oiden speech by o left-wing Lobour MP, but on this molter we see eye to eye. Ihis is lhe relevont porl ol lhot 'infomous' speech by Ken Livingsione.

I

During my clcction camptip in Brcnt, Erst, thcre wrs en unuual public mccting. An indivi$ual war invited to it who har ncvcr bcen r Socialist, who will ncvcr bG prcpared to votc l,abour tnd who thinks that thc Tory party is thc natural governing pany of Eritain. Hc was invitcd to sharc a platform with mysclf and somc of the relatives of thosc who have bccn subjcct to miscarriagcs of justice by thc British courts over issucs of bombing hcre in Britain. Wc invitcd Mr. Frcd Holroyd. For thosc who do not know, Mr. Holroyd scrvcd in Northcrn lrcland with distinction. At I said, hc is no Socialist. He comcs from a military family. Hc wcnt to a lorkshirc grammar school. His wholc objectivc in lifc was to scrve in thc British Army. Hc bclicvcd in it totally. He enlistcd as a privatc in the gunncnt and thrce years latcr hc was commissioned into thc Royal Corps of Transport. Hc volunteered for the Spccial Military Intelligencc unit in Northern lrcland when thc prescnt troublcs began, and hc was traincd at the Joint Serviccs School of lntclligencc.

Oncc his training was finisbcd,. he was starioncd in Portadown, where, for two and a half ycars, he ran a s€rics of intelligencc opcrations. I quote him so that thcre can bc no suspicion that hc might bc a liccret membcr of the Militant Tendency or a secret republican. At thc public mecting, his words were that he believed that the Army officers and men with whom he worked wcre "gcnuincly honest men trying to do rhc bcst job in rhe circumstances. They were in a no-win situation."

When he was recruited as an MI6 officer, he said of them that thcy were not disagreeable; thcir ethics werc rcasonable; they werc secking a political solution. His complaint, which eventually led to his removal from the Army and an attempt to discredit him, which has becn largely successful, was made when the MI6 operation was

taken over by MI5

in 1975-by

many

of

rhe samc

people who are dealt with in Peter Wright's book, and many of thc same pcople who are alleged to have been practising treason against the elected Labour Government

once thc MI5 took over, the rcasonable ethics of MI6 wcre pushed aside by opcratives in thc intclligcncc world who supportcd thc vicws of Mr.

Kitson and thc policies and tactics of subvcrting the subverters. I rccommend Brigadier Kitson's words to those who are not aware of them. His attitude was to Grcate a countcr-terror group, to have agents provocateur, to infrltrate, and io run a dirty tricks campaign in an attempt to discrcdit thc IRA. Mr. Holroyd continued to bclievc that what hc was doing was in the bcst interests of the British state until early in 1975, when Captain Robert Nairac, who, as many hon. Members will know, was later murdered by the IRA, wcnt into his ofncc, frcsh from a cross-bord€iopcration

that of coursc is complctely iltegal-and -something showed him thc colour photographs it at trua den takcn

by Captain Nairac's tcam.

Cap-tain N"iro. had crossed -ge the border with some voluntecrs had from rhe UDF. Northern lreland Act

!971

234

assassinated John Francis Grcen, an actiw membcr of thc IRA who was living routh of thc bordcr. At rn agent of thc British Government opcrating acros thc bordcr at an sssassin hc had brought back photographs er proofofthat opcration. Whcn Captain Nainc rhourcd thc

photographs, Mr. Holroyd started to

obirt, nor b6aus€ bc objccted to an activc mcmbcr of thc IRA bcing assasinatcd in a highly illcgal cro*bordcr raid but bccausc hc rcaliscd that oncs thc Brifirh rtrtc startcd to PcrPctratc ruch mcthd3 thcre war no way that.

cvcotur[y, Britain would not alienatc yest lcctions of the communily and cvcntually losc the srruggle for thc hcarts and minds of thc lrish people.

Holroyd lhcn startcd to objcct to thc usc of such illegal mcthods by Ml5 officcn. Hc was immediatcly shufBed to onc sidc by thc cxpcdicnt mcthod of bcing takcn to a mcntal hospital and being declarcd basically unfit for duty.

During the month that hc spcnt in the British mental hospital. the threc tcs(s that were administcred to him were complctcly successfully passed. Certainly, ovcr a dccadc later, having met him. I can

see no evidence whatsover that he was in some sensc mentally unbalanced. He was a spy

176

177

of the time. He said that

would hove been osicnished, lwe nly yeors ogo, to think thot I would lind myself the subjecl of o m.oiden speech by o left-wing Lobour MP, but on this molter we see eye to eye. Ihis is lhe relevont porl ol lhot 'infomous' speech by Ken Livingsione.

I

During my clcction camptip in Brcnt, Erst, thcre wrs en unuual public mccting. An indivi$ual war invited to it who har ncvcr bcen r Socialist, who will ncvcr bG prcpared to votc l,abour tnd who thinks that thc Tory party is thc natural governing pany of Eritain. Hc was invitcd to sharc a platform with mysclf and somc of the relatives of thosc who have bccn subjcct to miscarriagcs of justice by thc British courts over issucs of bombing hcre in Britain. Wc invitcd Mr. Frcd Holroyd. For thosc who do not know, Mr. Holroyd scrvcd in Northcrn lrcland with distinction. At I said, hc is no Socialist. He comcs from a military family. Hc wcnt to a lorkshirc grammar school. His wholc objectivc in lifc was to scrve in thc British Army. Hc bclicvcd in it totally. He enlistcd as a privatc in the gunncnt and thrce years latcr hc was commissioned into thc Royal Corps of Transport. Hc volunteered for the Spccial Military Intelligencc unit in Northern lrcland when thc prescnt troublcs began, and hc was traincd at the Joint Serviccs School of lntclligencc.

Oncc his training was finisbcd,. he was starioncd in Portadown, where, for two and a half ycars, he ran a s€rics of intelligencc opcrations. I quote him so that thcre can bc no suspicion that hc might bc a liccret membcr of the Militant Tendency or a secret republican. At thc public mecting, his words were that he believed that the Army officers and men with whom he worked wcre "gcnuincly honest men trying to do rhc bcst job in rhe circumstances. They were in a no-win situation."

When he was recruited as an MI6 officer, he said of them that thcy were not disagreeable; thcir ethics werc rcasonable; they werc secking a political solution. His complaint, which eventually led to his removal from the Army and an attempt to discredit him, which has becn largely successful, was made when the MI6 operation was

taken over by MI5

in 1975-by

many

of

rhe samc

people who are dealt with in Peter Wright's book, and many of thc same pcople who are alleged to have been practising treason against the elected Labour Government

once thc MI5 took over, the rcasonable ethics of MI6 wcre pushed aside by opcratives in thc intclligcncc world who supportcd thc vicws of Mr.

Kitson and thc policies and tactics of subvcrting the subverters. I rccommend Brigadier Kitson's words to those who are not aware of them. His attitude was to Grcate a countcr-terror group, to have agents provocateur, to infrltrate, and io run a dirty tricks campaign in an attempt to discrcdit thc IRA. Mr. Holroyd continued to bclievc that what hc was doing was in the bcst interests of the British state until early in 1975, when Captain Robert Nairac, who, as many hon. Members will know, was later murdered by the IRA, wcnt into his ofncc, frcsh from a cross-bord€iopcration

that of coursc is complctely iltegal-and -something showed him thc colour photographs it at trua den takcn

by Captain Nairac's tcam.

Cap-tain N"iro. had crossed -ge the border with some voluntecrs had from rhe UDF. Northern lreland Act

!971

234

assassinated John Francis Grcen, an actiw membcr of thc IRA who was living routh of thc bordcr. At rn agent of thc British Government opcrating acros thc bordcr at an sssassin hc had brought back photographs er proofofthat opcration. Whcn Captain Nainc rhourcd thc

photographs, Mr. Holroyd started to

obirt, nor b6aus€ bc objccted to an activc mcmbcr of thc IRA bcing assasinatcd in a highly illcgal cro*bordcr raid but bccausc hc rcaliscd that oncs thc Brifirh rtrtc startcd to PcrPctratc ruch mcthd3 thcre war no way that.

cvcotur[y, Britain would not alienatc yest lcctions of the communily and cvcntually losc the srruggle for thc hcarts and minds of thc lrish people.

Holroyd lhcn startcd to objcct to thc usc of such illegal mcthods by Ml5 officcn. Hc was immediatcly shufBed to onc sidc by thc cxpcdicnt mcthod of bcing takcn to a mcntal hospital and being declarcd basically unfit for duty.

During the month that hc spcnt in the British mental hospital. the threc tcs(s that were administcred to him were complctcly successfully passed. Certainly, ovcr a dccadc later, having met him. I can

see no evidence whatsover that he was in some sensc mentally unbalanced. He was a spy

178 't79

\vho rcaliscd thar thc operations of thc British Government wcrc counter-productive. He startcd to object, and was pushed to one side for his pains.

I raisc the link with Captain Robert Nairac bccausc, as I said, Fred Holroyd had qualms abour this but was nor particularly shocked; thesc things happen in a war. The matter needs to bc investigated. I can;ror prove the claims but allegations aie being made extensively here in Brirain, .in republican circles and on lrish radio and television. A particularly honifying incident that many hon. Membcrs will rcmembcr was the murder of three members of the Miami showband-completely innocenr musicians with no political affiliations wharsoever. It rook placc in the midst of the ceascfire that had been negotiated by the thcn Labour Governmenr and the IRA. The right hon. Member for Morley and Leeds, South (Mr. Rees) pushed it through and sustained it, although there was considcrable opposition from within the security scrvices and within

many political parties. The Labour Government did

everything possible to make the ceasefire work, but it was not wholly accepted within the appararus of Mlj-our operatives who allegedly were working on bchalf of thc British state in Northern lreland.

What is particularly disrurbing is that what looked at

the timc like a random act of maniacal violcnce and scctarian killing now begins to take on a much more sinister stance. It has begun to emerge thar Captain Robcrt Nairac is quite likely to have been rhe person who organised the killing of the three Miami showband musicians. The evidence for that alleeation is forensic and members of thc UDF are prepared io say that they were aware of thc dealings between members of the UDF gang

who actually underrook thc murder of thc Miarni

showband musicians. The evidence is quite clear. Thc same gun that was used by Captain Nairac on his cross-border trip to assassinate John Francis Green was used in the Miami showband massacre.

Earlier this year, the radio and television servicc of southern lreland, RTE, showed a documentary in which the makers-not mysclf; no one could accuie RTE of bcing.pro-IRA-that allege they havc now had contacts with members of rhc UDF in rhar area who say that Captain Nairac passed the explosires and the guns to the

UDF and set up the killing of rhe Miami

235

showband

Norrlrcrn lreland ,4ct 1974

musicians. If that is true. it needs to be investigated. The allegation'was made on the broadcasting networks of

southern lreland. lt is supported by men who served on behalf of Bntarn as spies in the area at the time. It needs to be investigated and disproved, or the people bchind it rooted out. ll one wanred to find a way of ending the ceasefire that had been negotiated between the Labour Government and the IRA. what better way to do so than to encourage random sectarian killings? I believe that that was happening.

It is likely that many of the officers mentioned in Peter Wright's book who were practising treason against the British Government at home were also practising treason

against the British Government in Ireland. If thc allegations are true, they we re prepared to murder innocent Catholics to start a wave of sectarian killing wbich would bring to an end the truce that thc Labour Government had negotiated with the IRA. No democratic society can allow that sort of allegation to go uninvestigated. It is made by people who served on our behalf as intelligence officers in the area.

We saw in last Sunday's edition of The Observer lhal another intelligence officer, Colin Wallace, who was closely linked with Fred Holroyd in a canrpaign to expose what is going on. has been dismissed as irrelevant by the British Government. We see now that The Observer,'using forensic tests, has been able to demonstrate that the notes that he wrote were nor written in the past couple of years by somebody who is embittered and is trying to cash in on what has started to come out. A clear analysis of the ink that was used in the notes shows that they were written in the early 1970s. Slowly. it all begins to pull together.

The interesting thing about the Peter Wright case is that in his defence in court he said that he was a loyal scrvant of Britain. and that he sought only to expose corruption

and spies in Britain and an establishment that covered them up. One ol the arguments by which he demonstratid his loyalty to Britain \r'as when he said in his book that hc

did not deal with *'hat he knew abbut operations in

178 't79

\vho rcaliscd thar thc operations of thc British Government wcrc counter-productive. He startcd to object, and was pushed to one side for his pains.

I raisc the link with Captain Robert Nairac bccausc, as I said, Fred Holroyd had qualms abour this but was nor particularly shocked; thesc things happen in a war. The matter needs to bc investigated. I can;ror prove the claims but allegations aie being made extensively here in Brirain, .in republican circles and on lrish radio and television. A particularly honifying incident that many hon. Membcrs will rcmembcr was the murder of three members of the Miami showband-completely innocenr musicians with no political affiliations wharsoever. It rook placc in the midst of the ceascfire that had been negotiated by the thcn Labour Governmenr and the IRA. The right hon. Member for Morley and Leeds, South (Mr. Rees) pushed it through and sustained it, although there was considcrable opposition from within the security scrvices and within

many political parties. The Labour Government did

everything possible to make the ceasefire work, but it was not wholly accepted within the appararus of Mlj-our operatives who allegedly were working on bchalf of thc British state in Northern lreland.

What is particularly disrurbing is that what looked at

the timc like a random act of maniacal violcnce and scctarian killing now begins to take on a much more sinister stance. It has begun to emerge thar Captain Robcrt Nairac is quite likely to have been rhe person who organised the killing of the three Miami showband musicians. The evidence for that alleeation is forensic and members of thc UDF are prepared io say that they were aware of thc dealings between members of the UDF gang

who actually underrook thc murder of thc Miarni

showband musicians. The evidence is quite clear. Thc same gun that was used by Captain Nairac on his cross-border trip to assassinate John Francis Green was used in the Miami showband massacre.

Earlier this year, the radio and television servicc of southern lreland, RTE, showed a documentary in which the makers-not mysclf; no one could accuie RTE of bcing.pro-IRA-that allege they havc now had contacts with members of rhc UDF in rhar area who say that Captain Nairac passed the explosires and the guns to the

UDF and set up the killing of rhe Miami

235

showband

Norrlrcrn lreland ,4ct 1974

musicians. If that is true. it needs to be investigated. The allegation'was made on the broadcasting networks of

southern lreland. lt is supported by men who served on behalf of Bntarn as spies in the area at the time. It needs to be investigated and disproved, or the people bchind it rooted out. ll one wanred to find a way of ending the ceasefire that had been negotiated between the Labour Government and the IRA. what better way to do so than to encourage random sectarian killings? I believe that that was happening.

It is likely that many of the officers mentioned in Peter Wright's book who were practising treason against the British Government at home were also practising treason

against the British Government in Ireland. If thc allegations are true, they we re prepared to murder innocent Catholics to start a wave of sectarian killing wbich would bring to an end the truce that thc Labour Government had negotiated with the IRA. No democratic society can allow that sort of allegation to go uninvestigated. It is made by people who served on our behalf as intelligence officers in the area.

We saw in last Sunday's edition of The Observer lhal another intelligence officer, Colin Wallace, who was closely linked with Fred Holroyd in a canrpaign to expose what is going on. has been dismissed as irrelevant by the British Government. We see now that The Observer,'using forensic tests, has been able to demonstrate that the notes that he wrote were nor written in the past couple of years by somebody who is embittered and is trying to cash in on what has started to come out. A clear analysis of the ink that was used in the notes shows that they were written in the early 1970s. Slowly. it all begins to pull together.

The interesting thing about the Peter Wright case is that in his defence in court he said that he was a loyal scrvant of Britain. and that he sought only to expose corruption

and spies in Britain and an establishment that covered them up. One ol the arguments by which he demonstratid his loyalty to Britain \r'as when he said in his book that hc

did not deal with *'hat he knew abbut operations in

180

181

.

lreland because that could still be damaging to the British Governmenl One needs to take together the accusations of Wallace and Holroyd and link them clearly to what is bcing said

by Peter Wright.,There was not just treason by somc Ml5 officers in Britain. Treason was also taking placc in lreland. Those employed by rhe British srate are alleged to have been responsible for killing innocent civilians in ordcr to end a ceasefire u'ith which they disagreed bccausc thcir political objectives were different from those of the Labour Government of the day. That is a most horrifying crime.

Wallace and Holroyd are making these quite specific allegations. They are now drafting a book that will expose

Index Aldershot, Mons OIIicer

Cadet

School 11 Armagh, Gough Barracks 82 Ashford - Joint Services Intelligence Tlaining Centre 22

agsaseination attempt Mugabe 127

-

on Robert

blackmail 136

them. They pursue Peter Wright. but they arc tcrrificd that if they take Wallace and Holroyd to court they will expose

killing of Eugene Mceuaid 845 BritishArmy:

things rhat

will shake the Government

to. its

foundations.

A

stupid thing happcned when the British Arniy

decided to get Holro),d out and discredit him. The officcr put in as his replacement, and who was unaware of what had been going on, arrived in the officc and as'sembted all of Holroyd's papers into a large container and dispatched them to his homc. Beforc the British Govcrnment start

rubbishing Holroyd too flamboyantly. rhey should bc

warned that he rerains almost all the casc papcrs that were in his control. They deal with his operations and his work and they arc safely out of this country and bcyond the reach of the Covcrnment.

We must have a full investigation. Before I could happily vote for this extension of direct rule, I want to see

th{t thc Government are prepared to ensure tfrat thcsCabuses are exposed. I want itrcm to guarantree

spme evidence

ftrat similar abuscs arc not continuing. The whole series of events about which I have spoken must be investigated.

Vcry soon we must have the full cvidencc about the shootto-kill policy of lhe RUC bccause I have no doubt that that is being covered up. It would have been most useful if John Stalkcr had becn able to conclude his inquiry after thc attempt to discredit him had been exposed and overturncd by the local police authority.

BritishArmyand UDA86

Army Board, Holroyd appeals

1SB;

covert operati ons 7 I,7 2:

hired kidnappers ?3

-

-

use of

collusion

with Protestsnt terrorists l2B

(see

also'crossborder operations');

defene of Catholic'targets' 66;

Headquarters Lurgan 34; Holroyd's request for inquiry ll5; illegalities carried out 88, l3g;

cover-up ofkilling 8b; riek to innocent people 8E; penetration of UDA & ,Ginger' Baker86; and Police, co-operation of post and telephone eervices 44;

&-Offrce MI5100;

MI0's and RUC Special Branch 34; rivalry between MIE & MI6 - riek to soldiers & RUC 9l-2.

British Government: covert/illegal activities 74;

Labour & IRA 63;

misleadingpublic

132.

Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) attempt to recruit Holroyd 29 'Chalet Bar' or'shamrock Club' 66-9 Conepiracy against:

'Counter-insurgency' Brigadier

traps'59-61;

cross botder operations

l3l,

Colin Wallaee lBZ

much more. and we need to ask why thc British Governmcnt take no action to stop them or to silence

in court

from

Cavendish, Anthony, andMI6 144

Fbed Holroyd 103

Baker, Albert "Ginger" 86-8; 'booby

Campbell,Duncan: documents siezed

Kitson andMRF86 Counter Terorism, Lecture on by BrigadierKitson 29 Cover-up in Eire 144 Covert Operations: & British Army ?1,22, British Army, cross border & hired kidnappers ?4 & cover for Nairac'g (SAS) unit 4? & innocent victi ms 7 l, 7 2,

& involvement ofjudiciary ?2

& MI6l

Lurgan 40, sabotage 83; crime -'ordinary', links with tâ&#x201A;Źrrorist activity 67-8.

Cmee Border Operations:

British Army & Protestant terrorists 123, British Army, Sabotage, involvement of Garda S4,

British Army, use of hired kidnappers 73

& 'Bunny'Dearsley 41,

'dirty tricks'?0 & Garda 43,73, Garda & British Security Serviceg

4,

ll4;

Rhodesia 126; Under Secretary of State for Armed Forces (Boger Fleeman) l4&lb 1.

Garda & MI6 102 & Garda inquiriee into lg2,1gg

& tn5&RUC &MI6 42.

100

180

181

.

lreland because that could still be damaging to the British Governmenl One needs to take together the accusations of Wallace and Holroyd and link them clearly to what is bcing said

by Peter Wright.,There was not just treason by somc Ml5 officers in Britain. Treason was also taking placc in lreland. Those employed by rhe British srate are alleged to have been responsible for killing innocent civilians in ordcr to end a ceasefire u'ith which they disagreed bccausc thcir political objectives were different from those of the Labour Government of the day. That is a most horrifying crime.

Wallace and Holroyd are making these quite specific allegations. They are now drafting a book that will expose

Index Aldershot, Mons OIIicer

Cadet

School 11 Armagh, Gough Barracks 82 Ashford - Joint Services Intelligence Tlaining Centre 22

agsaseination attempt Mugabe 127

-

on Robert

blackmail 136

them. They pursue Peter Wright. but they arc tcrrificd that if they take Wallace and Holroyd to court they will expose

killing of Eugene Mceuaid 845 BritishArmy:

things rhat

will shake the Government

to. its

foundations.

A

stupid thing happcned when the British Arniy

decided to get Holro),d out and discredit him. The officcr put in as his replacement, and who was unaware of what had been going on, arrived in the officc and as'sembted all of Holroyd's papers into a large container and dispatched them to his homc. Beforc the British Govcrnment start

rubbishing Holroyd too flamboyantly. rhey should bc

warned that he rerains almost all the casc papcrs that were in his control. They deal with his operations and his work and they arc safely out of this country and bcyond the reach of the Covcrnment.

We must have a full investigation. Before I could happily vote for this extension of direct rule, I want to see

th{t thc Government are prepared to ensure tfrat thcsCabuses are exposed. I want itrcm to guarantree

spme evidence

ftrat similar abuscs arc not continuing. The whole series of events about which I have spoken must be investigated.

Vcry soon we must have the full cvidencc about the shootto-kill policy of lhe RUC bccause I have no doubt that that is being covered up. It would have been most useful if John Stalkcr had becn able to conclude his inquiry after thc attempt to discredit him had been exposed and overturncd by the local police authority.

BritishArmyand UDA86

Army Board, Holroyd appeals

1SB;

covert operati ons 7 I,7 2:

hired kidnappers ?3

-

-

use of

collusion

with Protestsnt terrorists l2B

(see

also'crossborder operations');

defene of Catholic'targets' 66;

Headquarters Lurgan 34; Holroyd's request for inquiry ll5; illegalities carried out 88, l3g;

cover-up ofkilling 8b; riek to innocent people 8E; penetration of UDA & ,Ginger' Baker86; and Police, co-operation of post and telephone eervices 44;

&-Offrce MI5100;

MI0's and RUC Special Branch 34; rivalry between MIE & MI6 - riek to soldiers & RUC 9l-2.

British Government: covert/illegal activities 74;

Labour & IRA 63;

misleadingpublic

132.

Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) attempt to recruit Holroyd 29 'Chalet Bar' or'shamrock Club' 66-9 Conepiracy against:

'Counter-insurgency' Brigadier

traps'59-61;

cross botder operations

l3l,

Colin Wallaee lBZ

much more. and we need to ask why thc British Governmcnt take no action to stop them or to silence

in court

from

Cavendish, Anthony, andMI6 144

Fbed Holroyd 103

Baker, Albert "Ginger" 86-8; 'booby

Campbell,Duncan: documents siezed

Kitson andMRF86 Counter Terorism, Lecture on by BrigadierKitson 29 Cover-up in Eire 144 Covert Operations: & British Army ?1,22, British Army, cross border & hired kidnappers ?4 & cover for Nairac'g (SAS) unit 4? & innocent victi ms 7 l, 7 2,

& involvement ofjudiciary ?2

& MI6l

Lurgan 40, sabotage 83; crime -'ordinary', links with tâ&#x201A;Źrrorist activity 67-8.

Cmee Border Operations:

British Army & Protestant terrorists 123, British Army, Sabotage, involvement of Garda S4,

British Army, use of hired kidnappers 73

& 'Bunny'Dearsley 41,

'dirty tricks'?0 & Garda 43,73, Garda & British Security Serviceg

4,

ll4;

Rhodesia 126; Under Secretary of State for Armed Forces (Boger Fleeman) l4&lb 1.

Garda & MI6 102 & Garda inquiriee into lg2,1gg

& tn5&RUC &MI6 42.

100

82

183

Garda: British Army cross border operations 84, co-operation with MI6 102,149,

inquiry into crosrborder activity 132,133

-second inquiry 143

- results of 144.

'Gilford Castle' shootings - British Army & RUC 61 Green, John Francis, kiUing of: 26, involvement of Robert Nairac 27, links with 'Miami Showband'kill-

ings 79 Gurkha TYansport Regiment: Fred Holroyd and, 12,

in Kluang, Thailand 13.

Harrogate, Holroyd family back-

ground I Haughey, Charles 144 Holroyd, Fiona: marriage to Fred Holroyd 12 diffrculties in 20

in Northern Ireland 38

allegations against Fred, British Army reaction to 109,110.

Holroyd, Fred: & British Army Air Despatch Corps

t4

MI0's in Northern Ireland B0 denial oflegal rights by 111,114 Medical Investigation by 9?,98 Netley 104,150 appeals to Army Board 158, Resignation from Army 114,1lb British Government 148 compensation offer 110 dossier to Downing Street 142; conspiracy against 99, 103

MinistryofDefence

150

informants, treatment of g0 MI5130,136 redress, chronology of attempts at

152,L53 RUC 'smear campaign' against 146;

RhodesianArmy 119 Taylor, Teddy M.P. 140 "Today, Tonight" documentary on 143; under surveillance 117,118,146,148

inRhodesia I2O,L2L Wallace, Colin 136,137 II.M.Forces: Medical Classifrcation system 151; Under Secretary of State for Armed Forces, Roger Freeman 14&1b1 'Independent, The'14b

McQuaid, Eugene : killing of 84-5 'Miami Showband' killings 78 Military Intelligence Offrcer 20;

training in preparation for Northern lreland 23; work of39

by MIs 90;

by MI6 89,90.

Interrogation techniques 24, 68 IRA - recruitment ofby Security

Joint Serwices Intelligence Training Centre, Ashford,, Kett 22

73

-

killer - gangs 130

RUC 100,131, RUC Special Branch 102,103,

rivalry with MI6

69, 89-94, 99, 100,

1L7,r23,

Ulster 153

Kitson, Brigadier Frank & counter terrorism techniques in Northern Ireland 29 Knock, RUC HQ 32

transported to 104.

'New Statesman', and

Holroyd's

allegations 132,133 Colin Wallace, 136 Northern lreland: British Army analysis 28; posting to ofHolroyd 20,30; 'psy--ops'133

Oman, "The Secret War: Dhofar 197l-72" David Arkless

14

Ponting, Clive 131 Pope, Brigadier; Mons Officer Cadet School 11

92

RUC 130; press coverage of 143

Wilson, Harold 136, 143.

MI6, or Secret Intelligence Service 30,40 Cavendish, Anthony 144 Covert operations 83, Lurgan 40; cross border operations and Garda

Portadown, RUC Special Branch 34; & miscarriage ofjustice 80-B Protestant terrorist groups, bombing of 'Chalet Bar'66; inlluence in RUC 46,90-3 'psy--ops' in Northern Ireland, and

ColinWallace 133

Republic

of Ireland:

reaction to

'Diverse Reports' programme 132: "Today, Tonight" 143

101,102,143

Labour Government, and IRA 6B Lisburn, British Army HQ, Northern Ireland 31,32 Livingstone, Ken M.P: assistance to Holroyd 141,146 questions raised in House of Commons 87, 148, 151

'Lobster'magazine 143 Loyalty, Holroyd's duty of to:

British Army 34,35 RUC 32,35

by MI6 40;

and Holroyd 130,136 illegalities 70

Rhodesia 123 Taylor, Teddy M.P. L42

British Police 138, Justice Hughes Committee 141,

rivalry between MI5 and MI6 91

MI5:

& risk to British soldiers and RUC

Kincora Boys Home 130,186; investigation ofby -

operations in 59;

response to Fred Holroyd and Colin Wallace 149-53

SAS 90;

hired by British Army

Lurgan: British Army He

&

informants, treatment of 90 Oldfield, Maurice 144; relations with - British Army 100,

forces 41

kidnappers

& covert operations 47,

I

covert operations 74-6

Netley, British Army Hospital, Holroyd and assessment at 109; events at 106-â&#x201A;Ź, 150 return to duty 113

Ministry of Defence:

Informants/sources: 43 ; recruitment of - British Army and RUC 30; from IRA 41; treatment of: by Fred &'Bunny'90;

killing of John Francis Green 77; SAS in Northera Ireland 47 and,

14;

information on INLA 102 informants, treatment of 89,90; relationship with other security forces 41

Lancaster House 126;

recruitment of British Army personnel 44

rivalry with

Rhodesia: British involvement in war settlement 126; Fred Holroyd 120;

MI5

69,89-

94,99,100,1 17,123

Smellie, Craig40.

Mobile Reconaissance Force (MRF) 86 Mugabe, Robert, assassination attempt on 127

Nairac, Captain Robert, 47 Intelligence role 55

Military Intelligence l2l,I22; MI5 sanctions busting 123; Thatchers promise to rig election L26 Royal Artillery 11 RUC: & British Army 30,32-3,44,60; cross border operations 100;

'dirty tricks'70; HQ, Knock 32; Holroyd's allegations 130-133, smear campaiga against 146;

82

183

Garda: British Army cross border operations 84, co-operation with MI6 102,149,

inquiry into crosrborder activity 132,133

-second inquiry 143

- results of 144.

'Gilford Castle' shootings - British Army & RUC 61 Green, John Francis, kiUing of: 26, involvement of Robert Nairac 27, links with 'Miami Showband'kill-

ings 79 Gurkha TYansport Regiment: Fred Holroyd and, 12,

in Kluang, Thailand 13.

Harrogate, Holroyd family back-

ground I Haughey, Charles 144 Holroyd, Fiona: marriage to Fred Holroyd 12 diffrculties in 20

in Northern Ireland 38

allegations against Fred, British Army reaction to 109,110.

Holroyd, Fred: & British Army Air Despatch Corps

t4

MI0's in Northern Ireland B0 denial oflegal rights by 111,114 Medical Investigation by 9?,98 Netley 104,150 appeals to Army Board 158, Resignation from Army 114,1lb British Government 148 compensation offer 110 dossier to Downing Street 142; conspiracy against 99, 103

MinistryofDefence

150

informants, treatment of g0 MI5130,136 redress, chronology of attempts at

152,L53 RUC 'smear campaign' against 146;

RhodesianArmy 119 Taylor, Teddy M.P. 140 "Today, Tonight" documentary on 143; under surveillance 117,118,146,148

inRhodesia I2O,L2L Wallace, Colin 136,137 II.M.Forces: Medical Classifrcation system 151; Under Secretary of State for Armed Forces, Roger Freeman 14&1b1 'Independent, The'14b

McQuaid, Eugene : killing of 84-5 'Miami Showband' killings 78 Military Intelligence Offrcer 20;

training in preparation for Northern lreland 23; work of39

by MIs 90;

by MI6 89,90.

Interrogation techniques 24, 68 IRA - recruitment ofby Security

Joint Serwices Intelligence Training Centre, Ashford,, Kett 22

73

-

killer - gangs 130

RUC 100,131, RUC Special Branch 102,103,

rivalry with MI6

69, 89-94, 99, 100,

1L7,r23,

Ulster 153

Kitson, Brigadier Frank & counter terrorism techniques in Northern Ireland 29 Knock, RUC HQ 32

transported to 104.

'New Statesman', and

Holroyd's

allegations 132,133 Colin Wallace, 136 Northern lreland: British Army analysis 28; posting to ofHolroyd 20,30; 'psy--ops'133

Oman, "The Secret War: Dhofar 197l-72" David Arkless

14

Ponting, Clive 131 Pope, Brigadier; Mons Officer Cadet School 11

92

RUC 130; press coverage of 143

Wilson, Harold 136, 143.

MI6, or Secret Intelligence Service 30,40 Cavendish, Anthony 144 Covert operations 83, Lurgan 40; cross border operations and Garda

Portadown, RUC Special Branch 34; & miscarriage ofjustice 80-B Protestant terrorist groups, bombing of 'Chalet Bar'66; inlluence in RUC 46,90-3 'psy--ops' in Northern Ireland, and

ColinWallace 133

Republic

of Ireland:

reaction to

'Diverse Reports' programme 132: "Today, Tonight" 143

101,102,143

Labour Government, and IRA 6B Lisburn, British Army HQ, Northern Ireland 31,32 Livingstone, Ken M.P: assistance to Holroyd 141,146 questions raised in House of Commons 87, 148, 151

'Lobster'magazine 143 Loyalty, Holroyd's duty of to:

British Army 34,35 RUC 32,35

by MI6 40;

and Holroyd 130,136 illegalities 70

Rhodesia 123 Taylor, Teddy M.P. L42

British Police 138, Justice Hughes Committee 141,

rivalry between MI5 and MI6 91

MI5:

& risk to British soldiers and RUC

Kincora Boys Home 130,186; investigation ofby -

operations in 59;

response to Fred Holroyd and Colin Wallace 149-53

SAS 90;

hired by British Army

Lurgan: British Army He

&

informants, treatment of 90 Oldfield, Maurice 144; relations with - British Army 100,

forces 41

kidnappers

& covert operations 47,

I

covert operations 74-6

Netley, British Army Hospital, Holroyd and assessment at 109; events at 106-â&#x201A;Ź, 150 return to duty 113

Ministry of Defence:

Informants/sources: 43 ; recruitment of - British Army and RUC 30; from IRA 41; treatment of: by Fred &'Bunny'90;

killing of John Francis Green 77; SAS in Northera Ireland 47 and,

14;

information on INLA 102 informants, treatment of 89,90; relationship with other security forces 41

Lancaster House 126;

recruitment of British Army personnel 44

rivalry with

Rhodesia: British involvement in war settlement 126; Fred Holroyd 120;

MI5

69,89-

94,99,100,1 17,123

Smellie, Craig40.

Mobile Reconaissance Force (MRF) 86 Mugabe, Robert, assassination attempt on 127

Nairac, Captain Robert, 47 Intelligence role 55

Military Intelligence l2l,I22; MI5 sanctions busting 123; Thatchers promise to rig election L26 Royal Artillery 11 RUC: & British Army 30,32-3,44,60; cross border operations 100;

'dirty tricks'70; HQ, Knock 32; Holroyd's allegations 130-133, smear campaiga against 146;

184

informants 30; Kincora Boys'Home 130;

UDR:

BritishArmy46; British Security Forces 133;

MI5 100,102,103,131; Proteetant bias .16; Protestant temorists

I'IVT.78

8H.3;

UVF: Miami Showband killings 78;

Special Branch, miscarriage of justice 80-83, MIO's 30,34, MI6 55.

Portadown 37,38; UDR 78

Ulster: MI5 undercover 153 Wallace, Colin 180,142,143

Sabotage: British Army and Garda 84 SAS:

Covert involvement

in

Northern

Ireland 47,

Britieh Goverament in ignoranc

ofkilling

85;

Robert Nairac and crovert/illegal operations 74-6; RUC 85, Special Branch and hoteetant

terroriets 79: Thailand, covert operation in 13 threat to Holroydby 147.

'Shamrock Club' or'Chalet Bar' 66-9 Security Forces in Northern lreland: relationship between 32,34,35; sabotage by 84-5 Special Branch GUC) MI6 55 'Spycatcher'and Colin Wallae 139 Smellie, Craig MI640 Stalker, John 73: smearing of79,139 Surveillance: of Holroyd, Rhodeaia 121 ofRepublicans 44

training in techni gu.ea

25--7

Taylor, Teddy M.P. and 139, 140; offrce

HolroYd

burgled 141

firailand: SAS covert operation

13

Thatcher, Margaret 126,136,140,141 "Today, Tonight" current affairs pmgramme 14il UDA:

'Ginger'Baker86 RUC 87;

tIvT'66

MI5 plot againet Harold Wilson Peter Wright ('Spycatrher') 143; Iluncan Campbell 133;

Paul Foot

-

-

"Who Framed Colin

Wallace?" 147:

47, cover up MI5 90;

allegations: Kincora Boys' Home, police investigation 138,

& Holroyd 136,137: doesier to Downing Street 14I-; "Iobster" magazine articles 143; surveillance oflal8; 'Today, Tonight" programme 143 West Germany, Fred Holroyd posted to, 11 Wilson, Harold, campaign against 136

Wright, Peter: 'Spycatcher', & Colin Wallace allegations 14il