by Harry Beaves
I was very excited at the prospect.
Our tour of duty in Ireland was due to begin in July so when we returned from Christmas leave the Regiment was re-organised into a basic infantry formation. The Regimental HQ consisted of a Command element, an Operations element, an Intelligence element, a reserve Rifle Troop and a support element. Each Gun Battery mirrored this on a smaller scale, but with three Rifle Troops and without the reserve. I would command 6 Troop of 28 Battery which would be operating in Andersonstown, a hardline Catholic area of West Belfast.
Our training was co-ordinated by teams that had been set up in BAOR to assist units like us. They were made up of servicemen who had recent experience in Northern Ireland, which was excellent, as they were the horse’s mouth and could explain exactly the reasons behind the methods we were going to use.
Dealing with the situation in Northern Ireland required a whole new approach from the tactics of conventional warfare. In BAOR we trained for all-out nuclear war and within the constraints of the Geneva Convention there was little to concern ourselves over how we undertook it. At Sandhurst, training had included a module on Internal Security (IS) operations, the act of keeping peace within the borders of a sovereign state, and we had studied such operations that had involved British forces, such as the Malayan Emergency. Northern Ireland, however, was entirely different; we were in Britain, in front of the media and, although the enemy was every bit as ruthless, it demanded an altogether lighter touch.
Riot drill was a good example of this. The Army’s IS tactics pamphlet of the time instructed that a body of rioters should be faced by a military force presenting a smart and efficient image, determined to accept no nonsense. The military force is formed in a square and advances on the rioters in drill movements. The Commander is in the centre of the second rank with every soldier in the formation having a clearly defined role. The Commander addresses the crowd with a loud hailer and tells them to disperse. Two soldiers run forward with a coil of springy military barbed wire and unroll it about ten metres in front of the troops to mark a line which must not be crossed. The Commander tells the crowd the assembly is unlawful and that if they do not disperse the troops will open fire. Two soldiers in the third rank unfurl a large banner with this instruction written on it. At Sandhurst, with the Aden Campaign at its height, for extra realism our banner was in Arabic! If the aggression escalates and the rioters cross the wire the commander orders the front rank to take up a kneeling firing position and then to fire at the person identified as the leader. In our Sandhurst script the rioters’ leader always wore a red rugby shirt so that there was no mistaking him! The leader of the rioters falls when shot and two stretcher-bearers and a medic rush out from within the ranks and recover the body. The rioters disperse and the troops march smartly back to barracks. Whilst this method might have worked well in colonial days, it was quite plainly unsuitable for the operations we had in prospect on British soil.
We also had to become familiar with new equipment. Conflict with the Communist Bloc in Europe was likely to be a fast moving armoured battle. The infantry in BAOR was equipped with tracked AFV 432 Armoured Personnel Carriers (APCs). The role of the British troops based in the United Kingdom was to be prepared to react rapidly to conflicts elsewhere in the world. Partly because of the need to move the force quickly in transport aircraft and partly because these wars were expected to be relatively low-intensity operations, the force was equipped with soft-skinned Land Rovers and Four Tonners. Neither the BAOR nor the UK option suited the situation in Northern Ireland. The troops actually needed the protection of wheeled APCs.
When I was a boy I remember having a Dinky Toys model of a six-wheeled Saracen APC which had been in general service with the British Armed Forces from 1954 to 1969. Despite its antiquity, the Saracen was the right sort of vehicle for Northern Ireland operations, as was the Humber One Ton APC, known as the ‘Pig’, which had four wheels, was more lightly armoured and had been in service for much the same time. Fortunately hundreds of these old vehicles remained in what the Army terms ‘care and preservation’ in depots around the country. I remember as a boy in the fifties driving to my father’s home village of Ludgershall and passing rows and rows of obsolescent military vehicles, all painted ‘desert sand’, parked up in ‘care and pres’ – just in case.
They were rapidly overhauled and brought back into service for Northern Ireland. So urgent was the need that there was no time to replace the desert paint with the European green, so those Saracens used by 28 Battery in Ireland were in sand camouflage from the last theatre in which they were used.
The familiar Land Rover was also given a Northern Ireland upgrade with the canvas and some of the body panels replaced by poly-carbonate ‘Makrolon’ material. This provided protection against bricks and stones, some small arms fire and minor blasts, but it also made the vehicle much heavier and less manoeuvrable.
For the first time the British soldier was issued with a flak jacket (body armour). The version we had was waistcoat-style with a high collared back panel and two front panels. The back panel was laced to the front panels from waist to armpit. The two front panels had a heavy nylon zip with an overlap flap held down with Velcro. The jacket was only ever fastened with the Velcro as in the event of fire (petrol bombs were a significant threat) the zip melted and could not be undone. It was constructed from a slightly flexible impact-resistant synthetic material and was designed to stop a low velocity bullet and protect against fragmentation.
Operating in a flak jacket took a lot of getting used to. It was hot, heavy (around ten pounds) and bulky so significantly reduced the soldier’s speed and mobility. Firing a weapon accurately was much more difficult as it was hard to pull the weapon in to the shoulder and consequently the rear sight was further from the eye. Military efficiency was sacrificed for personal protection.
We were also issued with a number of new pieces of equipment. We had the first generation of night observation devices. They were image intensifiers which by today’s standards were very heavy and bulky and not very efficient as they were highly dependent on dry air conditions. We were also given infra-red intruder detector systems that we deployed for defence.
The Federal Riot Gun, a weapon new to us, was something we would use frequently. It fired rubber bullets about an inch and a half in diameter and five inches long which were used for riot control. They were not to be fired at a range of less than twenty-five metres, which was about the limit of their accuracy. They were supposed to be fired at the ground so that they ricocheted and hit the target on the legs. This would cause heavy bruising, the rioter would fall to the ground and a snatch squad would rush out and apprehend him – at least, that was the theory! Unfortunately we quickly discovered that rioters could effectively throw rocks and boulders at us from beyond the range of our rubber bullets.
Military radios at the time were heavy and cumbersome. The A42 standard man-pack radio we used in Germany was about ten inches by nine inches by three, with a battery roughly the same size. The delight of Northern Ireland was that we were able to use Stornophone handsets similar to those used by the emergency services. The set was small enough to fit into the breast pocket of a combat jacket and had fixed frequencies that required no tuning, so that each commander was able to carry his own radio without the need for a dedicated signaller.
I and two other Troop Commanders were sent to the School of Infantry to attend the two-week IS module of the Platoon Commanders’ Course (the Infantry equivalent of our YO’s course at the RSA). This was an invaluable opportunity to learn from the experts and feed on the experience of those who had recently served in Northern Ireland.
We began our training in 19 Regiment by going right back to basics, concentrating initially on elementary military skills like weapon handling and fieldcraft. These were bread and butter for the infantryman, but had become very much a second priority for Gunners in Germany who were used to living out of the back of an armoured vehicle. There was a great
deal of fitness training and, not surprisingly, a strong emphasis on first aid. This was interspersed with lectures on the history of the Troubles and the political groupings and the like. We were familiarised with the areas we would be operating in. In the corridors of the barracks were the military maps of Belfast with areas coloured orange or green according to the sectarian groupings, while the roads of West Riding Barracks were given names from Belfast like Shaws Road and Finaghy Road to fix them in our minds. Charts on the walls showed the organisation of the IRA alongside ‘wanted’ names and faces for us to memorise. In addition we received regular reports from 2nd Field Regiment RA, the unit we were taking over from, on the activities that they were undertaking.
As the weeks went by there was an increasing air of excitement and a real buzz about the Regiment. There was something new to work for, a real threat that we were going to tackle head on. It was great to be carried along on the wave and I loved it. If I was very familiar with many of the things we were learning because we had practised them thoroughly at Sandhurst, the soldiers were far less knowledgeable. At last I had found the sort of military life that I had been looking for and was really able to train my troop effectively.
Our training culminated in a two-week camp at Sennelager Training Area where we attempted to put all we had learnt into practice. 6 Troop had done very well in all of the phases of the training and I really felt we were ready to go.
With the preparation complete we were sent on pre-deployment leave. I went home for a couple of days before spending ten days walking in the Alps around Chamonix.
Throughout 1972 the turmoil in Northern Ireland continued to worsen and force levels were increased. The London Government decided that its Stormont subsidiary was no longer able to govern effectively, especially in regard to security, and on 24th March the British Prime Minister, Edward Heath, decided to prorogue the Northern Ireland Parliament and govern the province directly from London. William Whitelaw was appointed the First Secretary of State for Northern Ireland.
William Whitelaw was a typical old school ‘Tory Grandee’ with estates in Scotland and a background of Oxford University and war service in the Guards. He was intelligent and perceptive with a wealth of parliamentary experience. He also had a clear understanding of the situation in the province and, most importantly, realised the importance of bringing all sides and factions together if a solution was to be reached.
1972 was a year of intense activity, but by the summer the security forces were beginning to get the upper hand. The IRA offered to declare a ceasefire and engage in talks. The British government would have been damned by the world if they refused the offer and damned by the Loyalists if they accepted. The ceasefire was declared for seven days from 26th June 1972 while Whitelaw and his staff talked with Seàn Mac Stíofáin and senior members of the IRA.
Back in Dortmund, after leave we were tying up the loose ends before departure. Our documents were checked, next of kin confirmed, identity tags issued and we all completed (or declined to make) a will on an Army Will Form. The enthusiasm of Sennelager was replaced by an air of apprehension as the seriousness of the situation began to register.
But, as 19 Regiment was making preparations to depart, on 26th June military activity in Ireland was suspended in response to the IRA ceasefire. Troops still patrolled the streets, but wanted IRA ‘Volunteers’ were allowed to move around openly, immune from arrest. The IRA erected barricades on the entrances to the Catholic housing estates, ostensibly to protect the residents from the attentions of the British Forces and the aggression of the Protestant community, in fact to recover and reorganise. Often these barricades were no more than a line of rubble about eighteen inches high, but they represented a line in the sand which the British Army should not cross. IRA Volunteers manned them and, in theory, controlled access. One of my military friends tells of conversations he had at the barricades with men he had been hunting for weeks. In one instance an IRA Volunteer told my friend that he remembered him because my friend was one of those the IRA frequently saw conducting snatch operations from the back of a vehicle. We were all used to the thought of us, the military, recognising wanted terrorists, but the thought of the terrorist recognising him sent a chill up his spine.
Back in Germany we followed events on the radio with the British Forces Broadcasting Service. Rumours were rife that the IRA might capitulate and we would not have to go to Ireland at all, probably wishful thinking emanating from the married families. The CO let it be known that there was no question of this, but that we might have to be ready for a change of task. Events would tell. Situations like this are not unusual in military life; you simply do as you are told and wait and wait… The soldier refers to such indecision as ‘on the three-tonner – off the three-tonner’.
Agreement was impossible as the Government had no intention of acceding to the IRA’s demands, but, if nothing else, it gave British Intelligence an opportunity to evaluate the thinking and attitudes of the IRA leadership and identify the ‘moderates’ and the ‘hardliners’. In particular, it was thought that Gerry Adams and Daithi O’Connaill were not solely committed to armed struggle and understood the eventual need for a negotiated settlement. Subsequent British Intelligence activity sought to encourage the rise of a ‘moderate’ faction within the Republican Movement with whom it might be able to eventually reach agreement, which in part explains the rise and importance of Adams to the movement and his longevity within it.
The talks broke up, though the IRA allowed the ceasefire to continue, declaring it ‘indefinite’.
Just beyond the western boundary of the area that would be the responsibility of 28 Battery, the Catholic Andersonstown borders on the Suffolk area. At one time the area had been occupied by both Catholic and Protestant families and had been relatively peaceful. The Troubles had polarised areas like this and a sectarian interface now existed along Lenadoon Avenue. In the preceding months violence had increased between the communities, many families had moved out and left their houses which had been re-occupied by families who had been living on the ‘wrong’ side of Lenadoon Avenue. Tension remained high and a series of incidents escalated to a major gun battle on 14th July. Both the IRA and the security forces suffered a number of deaths which provided the IRA with the excuse they needed to cancel the ceasefire and resume operations.
On 14th July I flew out of Germany as part of the Advance Party of 19 Regiment. The die was cast. We were all set and very definitely ‘on the three-tonner’.
Chapter 7
First Steps
The Advance Party from 19 Regiment, consisting mainly of the commanders and deputies, arrived at Aldergrove Airport (now Belfast International Airport) in bright July sunshine and were quickly processed though the military arrivals terminal to the waiting military buses. The buoyant air in the group when we had departed had been replaced with tension by the time we arrived. We were back in Britain and the scenes were familiar. People spoke English, but you could not fail to notice the intense military presence all around the airport. We travelled in silence to our destination, Musgrave Park Hospital (MPH) in West Belfast, the HQ of 2nd Regiment, from whom we were taking over.
In 1972 Musgrave Park was a huge civilian hospital with a Military Wing staffed by Army medics who provided cover for all the servicemen in the province. The military medical staff was housed in a camp adjacent to the hospital that consisted of portacabin-type buildings typical of many military installations in Ireland at that time. It was surrounded by a high barbed-wire fence with sandbagged sentry posts along it. This would become the home of the Regimental Headquarters of 19 Regiment and of 5 (Gibraltar 1779–83) Battery who would be responsible for a mainly mixed Catholic and Protestant area to the west. 28 Battery, which I was part of, were to be responsible for the Andersonstown area directly north of MPH. 25 Battery were responsible for a mainly Protestant area in south Belfast.
2nd Regiment had completed a very busy and successful four-month tour so we were the new bo
ys and they were the old hands. I expected them to be confident and buoyant, cheerfully looking forward to returning home, a job well done. I had a number of friends in the Regiment and, though they were delighted by our arrival, their mood was far more sombre. They were at the end of four hard months and any satisfaction that they might have had had been overshadowed just days before. A vehicle patrol in a Humber Pig APC, a lightly-armoured wheeled vehicle, had been fired on by a sniper in the Andersonstown area. The gunman had used armour piercing ammunition and the Patrol Commander, Lieutenant Peter Watt, had suffered a serious head wound and was in MPH. Peter Watt was a very capable officer with a bright future in the Army. He was lively and energetic, not surprisingly, I knew him as a first-class scrum half, but now he was in intensive care, fighting for his life.
Military map of Andersonstown. Ringed in red is the area that 28 Battery took over from Eagles Troop. Orange areas are Protestant, green areas Catholic.
At MPH we were given a series of briefings and issued with our rifles and two magazines of ammunition, which would be with us for every hour of the next four months. Then, all too soon, we were loaded into Pigs and ferried to our destination, the bus depot on the Falls Road in Andersonstown. This was the base occupied by N Battery (The Eagles Troop) from whom 28 Battery was taking over. When the situation had demanded a military presence in the area the bus depot offered a huge open space into which temporary military buildings could be fitted, and it was also conveniently opposite Andersonstown Police Station. If the location of the bus depot was ideal its continued use was not. Although no passengers passed through the depot, it served as a busy garage with buses coming and going throughout the working day, so was a security nightmare. There were sandbagged military sentry posts at the gate where every vehicle was checked on entry, while the military accommodation was further protected beyond the actual garage area. In all the years that the military occupied the bus depot, I believe there was only one instance of a bomb being smuggled on to the premises and that was spotted by an alert sentry.