Down Among the Weeds
Page 15
At his ‘O’ Group on 28th August Richard Craven gave orders for a lift-and-search operation at dawn the next day, but later that evening we were told that it had been postponed. Instead, key members of the Battery were required to attend a CO’s Orders Group for a major operation planned for the 29th.
At last the net was closing on Tommy Gorman.
Chapter 15
Tommy Gorman
Thomas Anthony Martin Gorman from Carrigart Avenue in Lenadoon was in his mid-twenties, though in his wanted picture he was fresh-faced and looked very much younger. He was a ruthless and violent Republican, hardline in every sense of the word, having survived regular beatings from the security forces as, when caught, he had invariably resisted arrest. He was absolutely committed to the struggle for Irish union and had been active in the movement since about 1970.
In January 1972 Gorman was being held on HMS Maidstone, a prison ship moored in Belfast Lough. He and six others undertook a daring escape in which, blacked up with shoe polish, they smeared themselves with butter to protect them from the cold, then slid down a hawser into the icy waters and swam about 400 yards to a pier. From here they hijacked a bus and raced to the safety of the Catholic Markets Area of Belfast. As in all good escape tales the authorities were made to look dull and slow-witted. The escape was bold and inventive and served as an important morale booster when the IRA was going through a difficult period. It has, understandably, become a very popular legend within the Republican community.
After the escape Gorman became active again in Andersonstown and was one of the leading members of E Company. He enjoyed his status as a local hero, but, like many of the IRA’s leaders, he was a cruel bully, who ruled his community by threats and coercion. In consequence many of the milder members of the Catholic community feared and hated his kind. I have several times mentioned how important it was to win the hearts and minds of the community and how difficult it was for the British Army to achieve this, but the ruthless bullying by people like Gorman gave us opportunities that we were delighted to exploit. There was no doubt in the minds of the people of Riverdale that Gorman was involved with the bomb that killed David Storrey and Bob Hope so it was not surprising that his capture would come about as a result of betrayal by someone whom he knew.
At 0600 we gathered for Colonel Bill’s briefing. Regimental Intelligence had received information that Gorman would be at a meeting in 59 Riverdale Park Drive at 1000 that morning. Our aim was to capture those attending the meeting. We were well aware that the main problems would be getting into the estate unseen and securing the area. The arrival of military vehicles would have signalled our intent and our targets would have fled at the warning noise made by the women banging dustbin lids and blowing whistles, so the Battery would enter the estate in small civilian trucks. We were also acutely aware that on 18th August Gorman had escaped through the cordon while we were lifting other houses in Riverdale.
At 0800 we went to Palace Barracks and took over three civilian box body Morris vehicles. They were Makrolon-lined and used ostensibly for shifting military freight around the province. On the car park of Palace Barracks we chalked an outline of 59 Riverdale Park Drive and replicated the streets of Riverdale with traffic cones. We then drove the route and rehearsed the drills that we would use. We were sitting on the floor in the back of the vehicles, so it was important that at least one run-through was done at speed so that we could get used to being thrown around on the corners etc.
Sgt Moore would be responsible for the outer cordon while Sgt Escreet ran the inner cordon. Crowd control would be the responsibility of 4 and 5 Troops. I would go through the door with Sgt Johnston (the Battery Int Sgt) and the BC’s party. The BC would be in plain clothes in the passenger seat of the first vehicle and act as commander on the ground in Riverdale, while the whole operation was under command of the CO in the Regimental Ops Room at MPH. The drivers and vehicle commanders were wearing civilian clothes so not to attract attention as we passed by.
We moved back to MPH and began the nervous wait. Meanwhile 10 Troop were running an apparently routine Vehicle Check Point on Finaghy Road North. Capt Charlie Miller, 19 Regiment’s Intelligence Officer was in the back of one of the Saracens with a pair of binoculars and a clear view of 59 Riverdale Park Drive. When he was sure the meeting was set up, Capt Miller would pass the message for us to go. The wait seemed endless, then suddenly the call came through and we were off, bouncing around the backs of the vehicles as we drove respectably down Andersonstown Road, hoping not to attract attention. As we approached Riverdale we increased speed and by the time we entered Riverdale Park Drive we were moving very fast. The drivers hit the brakes and we shot forward in a pile, struggling desperately to free ourselves and get into action as quickly as possible.
The locals were taken completely by surprise and immediately began sounding the alarm with dustbins and whistles, but it was too late. As the cordon went in, Sgt Johnston and I crashed through the door. The occupants only got as far as the back door when they saw our troops in the garden and surrendered. Three men were put in the stress position, legs spread, hands leaning on the wall. They were Tommy Gorman, Ardo Dornan and a youth named Dalton. A woman with long red hair was made to sit on a chair, hands on her knees. She refused and in the noise and confusion Gorman tried to pass a note to her. Gnr Collins outside in the cordon saw this through the window and alerted the troops in the room. The note contained valuable information on E Company’s activities.
Tommy Gorman Picture. 19 Regt.
Outside a huge crowd had gathered, mainly women screaming and pressing close to the houses. One by one the handcuffed men were hustled into the back of the vehicles, all the time the crush of the crowd threatening to pull them free. When the woman was brought out people in the crowd held on to her clothing and threatened to tear her away from us. The situation was serious with the crowd packed tightly around, threatening to overwhelm us. The BC made the decision to let the crowd drag the woman from us so long as we had the three men securely in custody. We later learnt that the woman was Geraldine Hughes, wanted in connection with several explosions and almost certainly the ‘red-haired’ woman seen in Riverdale Park East just before the bomb. With the benefit of hindsight, perhaps we should have withdrawn inside the house with her and called for reinforcements. Unfortunately we had no experience of and had not planned for moving prisoners through such an intense, aggressive crush.
Because Tommy Gorman was an escapee on the run he was immediately detained. Dornan was described as E Company’s Finance Officer and was charged and released. Dalton was not charged. We believed Gorman and Geraldine Hughes were involved with laying the bomb that killed David Storrey and Bob Hope, but we had no evidence against them and fear of retribution was likely to stop anyone from coming forward with reliable information. We forced our way out of the house through hordes of women screaming abuse and patrolled back to Casement Park, delighted with the day’s events. Back in the stadium there was a lot of laughter and good robust military bonhomie for almost the first time since our arrival in Ireland.
The bomb in Riverdale had been a turning point for the people on the estate. They were Catholics so their sympathies were always going to be with the Republican cause, but they feared the ruthless methods of the IRA members who sought to control the area. The bomb appalled them and by a strange quirk tipped the scales in our favour. It was not so much that they now supported us, more that they disliked the IRA, not least because of the inconvenience caused by our increased patrol activity as a consequence of the bomb. We capitalised on this whenever possible. We received information that Gorman had also left a bomb in MacAlpine’s Yard, an area of waste ground between Riverdale South and the M1. The BC appeared on TV warning people of the danger, particularly as children played in the area. But we were wary of complacency after our recent success as we knew the IRA was never beaten. It was like a hydra: when we cut the head off, we knew that another one would grow somewhere else.
Father Cunningham of St Agnes Church, who had often spoken out against violence, had recently addressed his congregation on the subject of intimidation. Mrs Hallyday was among twelve people who stood up and answered him, saying that he was using the pulpit to make a political statement, and then walked out. The next time they went to church they were refused Mass and Father Cunningham sent them away ‘to consider what they had said and done’.
On 1st September 5 Troop lifted 50 Riverdale Park South, home of the notorious Mrs Hallyday. To our surprise Mr Hallyday, previously described as ‘away’, was at home when we called, as was his son. Mr Hallyday seemed a reasonable man and was very shocked to learn about his wife being refused Mass and since he and his son were not on our ‘wanted’ list we did not detain them. The BC met Father Cunningham on several occasions and found him to be a very reasonable and approachable person. He became a useful barometer from which to gauge the feelings in the area.
Because things seemed to be easing a little in Riverdale the Battery was able to take advantage of a scheme which took soldiers out for the day to Bangor, a safe seaside resort for a few hours’ break, away from what we now referred to as ‘En-Casement Park’, but Ray Harrison and I thought we might prevail on the BC’s goodwill in another way. There was a light-hearted misconception in 28 Battery that while we were facing the angry Catholic hordes, 5 Battery and 25 Battery spent their time drinking tea with the Protestants. This, of course, was far from the truth, but we certainly envied 5 Battery because they lived in the Officers’ Mess at MPH which was also the home of the Army nurses based there. Ray and I had learnt that they were holding a party in the Mess on the coming Friday and since things in Riverdale were a little quieter, we asked Richard Craven if we could go along. He agreed and, as David Isaac was a married man, he would cover for us in Casement Park.
Ray and I were really looking forward to the evening and had hatched an ambitious two-phase plan. Phase One was to attend the party, trap two girls, preferably locals, and arrange to see them again. Phase Two was to persuade the two girls to take us for a night out in Belfast.
At the party Phase One was going according to plan. We focussed on a couple of girls who looked to be on their own. They were from Belfast and worked as clerks at the hospital – ideal. So we chatted to them for most of the evening until Cinderella’s coach arrived for us in the shape of the Saracen APC. We said ‘farewell’, coyly asked if we could take them out some time and they were happy to give us their phone numbers.
As Phase One had gone without a hitch, the following evening I rang to make further arrangements, and then asked Richard Craven if it would be OK. He was amused and had no objections as long as everything was cleared ‘through the chain of command’. We would have to provide the girls’ names and addresses, vehicle registration number and a list of the places we would visit. The girls were used to the routine and called us back with the necessary details. ‘Int’ informed us that it would take a week or so to complete the checks and make the authorisation.
* * *
Meanwhile there was a major demonstration to be dealt with. On 3rd September the People’s Democracy and Sinn Fein were holding a rally, the aim of which was to protest against the use of local school premises as bases by the British Army. It would be held outside the Busy Bee supermarket. We were pleased that, for once, the focus of attention might not be directly on us in Casement Park. As before, the plan was to put VCPs at either end of Andersonstown Road with troops in the housing estates north and south of it. We would then sweep along the road and attack with snatch groups from the flanks.
About 400 people attended the meeting which was largely peaceful. As the crowd dispersed, those bent on aggro, easily identified by their denim jackets and half-mast jeans, remained. When they saw soldiers they began hurling stones and the usual riot began. Sgt Moore and I each had a section and pushed the rioters back along Andersonstown Road. They were beginning to play cat and mouse in the roads leading north where we expected the Green Jackets to cut them off. At one stage Sgt Moore was pursuing a large group up St Agnes Drive so I radioed Battery Ops to alert the Green Jackets, in the hope that they would deal with them. The result was a solitary Land Rover – too little too late, so the rioters slipped through the net. Once again our friends, the Green Jackets, had let us down and we were left with nothing more than a crowd of women chanting ‘We put Major Storrey in his grave’.
A snatch squad trying to corner rioters outside the Busy Bee on Andersonstown Road on 3 September 1972. Self on the right commanding. The protection party with shields and the shooters with Federal Riot Guns (rubber bullets). The snatch group with rifles over their shoulders and batons in hand will rush out and arrest those hit by rubber bullets. Picture 19 Regt.
At about 2030 on 7th September Bdr Tolson had a patrol in Riverdale Park South. He made a random check on a youth on a bicycle. The young man produced a youth club membership card in the name of Desmond Dowling. Unfortunately for him Bdr Tolson had arrested Dowling, a relatively low-risk member of the Fianna, less than a fortnight before and remembered him well. Despite the fact that a hostile crowd was beginning to gather, Tolson continued to demand his true identity. Eventually he said that he was James Rooney, aged seventeen. Rooney was on our wanted list so he was whisked away at high speed, very nervous and agitated. He was talking so fast that the driver had to put his foot down to get to the Int Cell as quickly as possible.
The first thing that Rooney told us was that the weapons found at 26 Riverdale Park North were the almost complete armoury of E Company. The company now probably only had one .45 pistol remaining.
He went on to say that anyone who had been lifted by us was considered, by the IRA leadership, likely to have given away valuable information under interrogation. Because of this, those arrested were automatically suspended by the IRA for fourteen days. Our intensive patrolling and random stop-and-search tactics were having great effect, with such regular suspensions that the IRA in the area was being largely neutralised. The same was happening with other units throughout the province, so the IRA command had decided to re-organise into a system of cells. Each cell would have a leader and three or four Volunteers. Each Volunteer would only know the others in his cell and would not have any other names or identities that could be compromised under interrogation.
Rooney also gave us the addresses of a number of safe houses and told us that several of our old friends in the IRA had been sacked, including Billy Roberts (the Company QM who had left the arms in 26 Riverdale Park North), Terry Herdman, Liam O’Kane and Jim Hughes. Finally he admitted, along with Kevin McKee and John Pickering, to planting a bomb at the Greenan Lodge Hotel on 19th August.
Intelligence was overjoyed and we went to lift McKee at dawn the following day. He was not in, but was subsequently found in the Royal Victoria Hospital from where he was transferred under guard to MPH.
* * *
Approval had been given and time was fast approaching for the start of Phase Two of the operation with the two Irish girls, our night out in Belfast. Ray and I stood at the gate of MPH surrounded by a heavy cloud of ‘Brut’, dressed in our smart casuals, namely Stead and Simpson’s desert boots and Moss Bros blazer with a heavy bulge in the inside pocket. The bulge in the jacket was a nine-millimeter Browning pistol that we were obliged to carry for our own safety. It was the smallest weapon that 19 Regiment was issued with and we had nothing like a shoulder holster so it went in the jacket pocket. The thought of stepping out of our safe military circle was beginning to worry me as we had ‘Army officer’ written all over us and stood out like the balls on a bulldog. A mini arrived with the two girls in it and we drove off laughing and joking. As we headed off into Belfast, we noticed signs everywhere of the
military presence that did nothing to ease my growing feeling of discomfort.
‘Where are we off to first, then?’ Ray asked casually.
The reply didn’t seem to ring a bell with the names of the bars that we had submitted for clearance.
‘Was that one on the list?’ asked Ray without thinking.
‘Oh no,’ came the reply. ‘We put that list in every time we go out with the Army because we know those places are OK, but we don’t take any notice of it.’
My sense of unease was moving through amber towards red. We parked the car and went into a busy-looking bar. Mercifully the doorman didn’t stop us. The atmosphere was quite convivial and we drank halves, but every time I moved my right arm I felt it brush against the browning in my pocket. We went on for another half in a different bar.
Then one of the girls said. ‘OK boys. What say we go on to a club?’
We agreed nervously, got into the car and sped off out of Belfast. We had no idea where we were going, but were heading right out into the country. I was becoming increasingly nervous and I caught Ray’s eye in the rear-view mirror. His left hand, like mine, was inside his jacket. We eventually drove down a winding lane and came to a whitewashed barn-like building. Cars were parked all around, there were bright lights and there was the sound of loud music. Inside the place was packed and lively. The barman greeted the two girls familiarly and they nodded at others in the room. Along the length of the wall behind the bar hung the familiar flag of Ulster, a red cross on a white ground with a red hand superimposed. Behind the bar were memorabilia and photographs of Rangers Football Club. At the end of the bar was a group of close-cropped burly individuals wearing white tee-shirts and jeans, their arms heavily tattooed with the red hand and other Protestant symbols and slogans like ‘FOR GOD AND ULSTER’. Had they stepped off their barstools, I suspect their knuckles would have dragged on the ground. From the sublime of Republican Andersonstown we had slipped into the ridiculous of Unionism and had no idea quite what threat it posed.