Wilson begins his priestly career as a hospital chaplain, where he becomes aware of the systemic neglect and exploitation of women. This experience shapes his later advocacy for marginalized groups. In 1966, he is assigned to St. John’s parish in Ballymurphy, a heavily working class and nationalist area. Confronted with poverty, deprivation, and social neglect, he rejects a purely clerical role and chooses to live among his parishioners, earning deep community trust.
Wilson facilitates grassroots initiatives such as the Springhill Community House and the Conway Education Centre, establishing spaces for alternative education, vocational training, small business incubators, and cultural engagement. These efforts emphasize the empowerment of local communities, adult education, and economic development, drawing inspiration from liberation theology and Worker Priest models.
Wilson’s ministry coincides with some of the most violent years of the Northern Ireland Troubles. He provides support to families affected by violence, offers shelter and practical assistance, and maintains dialogue channels between republican and loyalist communities. He criticizes the Catholic Church for its detachment from the struggles of working class Catholics and refuses to condemn paramilitary groups acting as “alternative police and armies,” reflecting his nuanced approach to community protection and justice. Alongside figures like Fr. Alec Reid, he is instrumental in mediating discussions that contribute toward the peace process.
Wilson’s work earns widespread admiration for his courage, humanity, and commitment to justice. He hosts Mother Teresa in west Belfast, helping to establish charitable outreach in the community. Despite periods of estrangement with his bishop and being barred from celebrating Mass in churches, he continues his ministry at home and through community projects.
Wilson is also a prolific writer, recording diaries, pamphlets, and weekly columns, later commemorated in the documentary “Fr. Des – The Way He Saw It” narrated by Stephen Rea, and in theatre productions celebrating his life. PresidentMichael D. Higgins and countless individuals recognize his significant role in civil rights, education, and peacemaking.
Wilson dies in Belfast on November 5, 2019, at the age of 94, leaving a lasting impact on Belfast and a model for socially committed clergy worldwide. His approach to ministry stands as a testament to living faith in solidarity with marginalized communities, emphasizing education, dialogue, and justice over institutional authority.
The institutions Wilson helps create, notably the Springhill Community House and Conway Mill, continue to support education, enterprise, and community engagement in Belfast, embodying Wilson’s vision of an empowered, inclusive society. His life remains an inspiration for those committed to social justice, peacebuilding, and community-centered ministry.
Wilson is remembered as a priest,educator, community activist, and mediator, whose dedication to the underprivileged and commitment to peace has left an indelible mark on Northern Ireland.
McCullough turns professional in 1993, moving to Las Vegas, Nevada, to train under legendary coach Eddie Futch. Less than 2½ years after his debut, he captures the WBC bantamweight title on July 30, 1995, by defeating Yasuei Yakushiji in Japan, becoming the first Irish or UK boxer to win a world title there. He successfully defends the WBC belt twice before moving up in weight. He challenges for championships in super bantamweight and featherweight, including notable bouts against Daniel Zaragoza, Naseem Hamed, Erik Morales, and Oscar Larios. He is renowned for his relentless attacking style and exceptional durability, never being knocked down in his professional career.
McCullough’s career record consists of 34 professional bouts with 27 wins (18 by knockout) and 7 losses. He retires after a bout against Juan Ruiz in June 2008 due to injury, ending a career spanning 15 years.
McCullough marries Cheryl Rennie in 1993, and they have a daughter, Wynona, pursuing a career in entertainment. During his career, he faces mental health challenges, including depression and suicidal thoughts, which he overcomes with the support of his family and faith. He becomes a United States citizen in 2005.
After retiring, McCullough becomes a trainer for amateur and professional fighters and works to promote goodwill in sports as WBC World Ambassador for Peace. He is also involved in mixed martial artspublic relations and founds his charity initiative, IHOW. He publishes his autobiography, Pocket Rocket: Don’t Quit, in 2005. In 2019, he is inducted into the Nevada Boxing Hall of Fame for his contributions to the sport.
McCullough’s courage, low knockdown susceptibility, and international successes have cemented him as a revered figure in boxing, both in Ireland and globally. His story is one of triumph, resilience, and overcoming personal and professional adversity.
The Battle of St. Matthew’s, also known as the Battle of Short Strand, is a gun battle that takes place on the night of June 27-28, 1970, in Belfast, Northern Ireland. It is fought between the Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), and Ulster loyalists in the area around St. Matthew’s Roman Catholic church. This lies at the edge of the Short Strand, a Catholic enclave in a mainly-Protestant part of the city. Violence erupts there, and in other parts of Belfast, following marches by the Orange Order. The battle lasts about five hours and ends at dawn when loyalists withdraw. The British Army and police are deployed nearby but do not intervene. Three people are killed and at least 26 wounded in the fighting, while another three are killed in north Belfast.
The battle is the Provisional IRA’s first major action during the Troubles, and a propaganda victory for the Irish nationalist organization. It presents itself as successfully defending a vulnerable Catholic enclave from armed loyalist mobs. Loyalists, however, argue that the IRA lured them into a carefully prepared trap.
During the Northern Ireland riots of August 1969 in Belfast, Catholic Irish republicans clash with Protestant Ulster loyalists and the mainly-Protestant Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC), Northern Ireland’s police force. Catholics believe that they are about to become “victims of a Protestant pogrom” and Protestants believe they are on the “eve of an IRA insurrection.” Hundreds of Catholic homes and businesses are burned out and more than 1,000 families, mostly Catholic, are forced to flee. The Irish Republican Army (IRA) has few weapons or members and is unable to adequately defend the Catholic areas. The rioting ends with the deployment of British troops. In December 1969, the IRA splits into the Official Irish Republican Army and the Provisional Irish Republican Army—with the Provisionals vowing to defend Catholic areas in future.
The Short Strand is a Catholic/nationalist enclave in East Belfast, a mainly Protestant/Ulster unionist part of the city. In the early years of the Troubles, Catholics in Short Strand number about 6,000, while their Protestant neighbours total about 60,000.
On Saturday, June 27, 1970, a large march by the Orange Order takes place in west Belfast, which is joined by loyalist bands from other parts of the city. Violence breaks out as the march enters the Catholic Springfield Road area on its way to Whiterock Orange Hall. Missiles are thrown by both sides, a bakery is set ablaze, and the British Army fires CS gas to disperse crowds. The riot sparks violence in other parts of Belfast.
In north Belfast, another Orange march proceeds along the Crumlin Road, the boundary between the Catholic Ardoyne and the Protestant Shankill areas. According to Crown prosecutors, a crowd emerges from Ardoyne throwing bottles and stones. As the riot descends into a gun battle, the IRA—who according to Gerry Adams were “ready and waiting”—kill three Protestants: William Kincaid (28), Daniel Loughins (32) and Alexander Gould (18). Others are wounded, including a Royal Navypetty officer who is shot in the jaw while driving a field ambulance. Earlier in the month, British troops divert an Orange march away from Ardoyne, leading to serious rioting by Protestants in the Shankill.
In the predominantly Protestant east of the city, an Orange parade also takes place along the Newtownards Road. At the bottom of the road is the Catholic enclave of the Short Strand, and here a gun battle breaks out between the IRA and Protestants, though the cause of it is disputed by both sides.
Violence erupts at St. Matthew’s Catholic church on the evening of June 27. It begins after a loyalist band and supporters march through the area on their return from the main parade. Rival groups gather, taunting leads to stone-throwing, and eventually, shots are fired.
As the situation worsens, Catholic residents fear that the gathering crowds of loyalists will attempt to invade the Short Strand and burn them from their homes. Local IRA members retrieve weapons from arms dumps. A young resident, Jim Gibney, recalls, “I saw neighbours, people I knew, coming down the street carrying rifles. I was just dumbstruck by this experience. I’d never seen such a thing before.”
The battle begins at about 10:00 p.m. and continues for the next five hours. Loyalists begin attacking the church and surrounding property with petrol bombs. A small house on the church grounds, where the sexton lives with his family, is set ablaze. A nearby Catholic pub is also looted and burned.
A small group of IRA members and members of the Citizens’ Defence Committee take up positions in the church grounds and in adjoining streets. The IRA members are armed with M1 carbines and are led by Billy McKee, commander of the IRA’s Belfast Brigade. Also present is Billy Kelly, commander of the Belfast Brigade’s 3rd Battalion. The IRA members fire at the loyalists, some of whom are positioned on the roofs opposite. Jim Magee, a local loyalist, sees wounded people lying on the road and asks the police (RUC) for help. According to Magee, “[they] said ‘if you have anything, get it out and protect your people.’ So we got an old rifle and went into Frazer Street and started firing back.”
The security forces are deployed in the area at the time but do not intervene to end the fighting. Shortly after the shooting begins, StormontMPPaddy Kennedy goes with Short Strand residents to the local RUC base and demands protection for their homes. Across the River Lagan, in the Markets area, other IRA members assemble and prepare to reinforce the Short Strand should it be invaded. British soldiers eventually arrive in armoured vehicles and cordon off the roads around the Short Strand, which denies the IRA “any hope of reinforcement.” At the time, the British Army says that its soldiers fired no shots because “owing to the confused situation, it was impossible to identify targets.” British Army Colonel Mike Dewar later says, “The whole incident had taken its course because the Army was so chronically overstretched that night in Belfast. The one spare platoon in the whole of west Belfast was not able to get through rioting Protestants to the Short Strand.” JournalistTony Geraghty writes that sometimes “The gunfire eased long enough to allow an occasional British Army personnel carrier (a ‘Pig‘) to whine past, illuminated by the flames in a token gesture of law-and-order.”
Another journalist who witnesses the battle, Peter Taylor, later says, “The shooting intensified but the soldiers still declined to intervene and separate the two sides – either because they felt they were not numerically strong enough or because they did not wish to get caught up in the middle of a sectarian fight, in the darkness, with shots being fired by both sides.”
Liz Maskey, who is a volunteer nurse that night, says that the Short Strand is surrounded by loyalists and claim they attacked her ambulance as it tried to leave the area.
The loyalists withdraw after about five hours, as dawn breaks. IRA leader Billy McKee claims that his unit had fired 800 rounds during the battle.
Three people are killed in the fighting. At least 26 are wounded, including Billy McKee, who is shot five times.
Robert Neill, a 38-year-old Protestant, died instantly when a shot fired from the church bounced off the pavement and hit him in the spine.
James McCurrie, a 34-year-old Protestant, is shot dead on Beechfield Street.
Henry McIlhone, a 33-year-old Catholic, is helping to defend Short Strand when he is accidentally shot from the republican side. He dies on June 29. However, McKee maintains that McIlhone is shot by loyalists. Tírghrá, the IRA’s official list of its fallen, lists McIlhone as a “volunteer” but adds “although not a member of the IRA, Henry McIlhone was included in the republican roll of honour as a mark of respect for this great Irishman by republican comrades he fought alongside.”
Republicans and loyalists disagree over who started the violence and fired the first shots. Republicans claim that the violence was started by a mob of loyalists returning from an Orange march. They say that the loyalists tried to set the church alight and invade Short Strand, with the intention of burning the residents from their homes. Hence, republicans argue that they were defending the Short Strand from a loyalist attack. Loyalists claim the violence was begun by republicans, allegedly when the returning Orangemen and supporters were attacked on Newtownards Road. They argue that republicans attacked Protestants to lure them into “a carefully prepared trap.”
The following day, loyalists expel 500 Catholic workers from the nearby Harland & Wolff shipyard. Shortly after, the British government’s representative at Stormont says that the decision to allow Orange marches to go ahead on that day was “the greatest single miscalculation I have ever seen made in the course of my life.”
Many Catholics and nationalists believe that the IRA had been unable to defend them during the August 1969 riots. However, it is argued that the IRA’s defence of Short Strand redeemed it in the eyes of many Catholics and nationalists. Prior to the gun battle, the IRA had been waiting for an opportunity to portray themselves as defenders of the Catholic community. Among republicans, the battle is seen as a key event in the growth of the Provisional IRA.
Less than a week later, the British Army seizes a large haul of Official IRA weapons during a three-day operation in west Belfast. Nationalists see this as a confiscation of their defences.
At the time of the attack, a Friday evening, a cabaret show is taking place, and the bar contains approximately forty people. The attackers spray the pub with an ArmaLite AR-15assault rifle. While some sources suggest that a grenade is thrown into the bar before the attackers escape, contemporary news sources state that a bomb is left behind.
Three people are killed and approximately six are injured. Those killed, all Protestant civilians from the same extended family, included Ruby Kidd (28), Francis Walker (17) and Joseph McBride (56).
The “West Belfast Republican Action Force” subsequently claims responsibility for the shooting, stating that it was “carried out in retaliation” for the Chlorane Bar attack earlier in June 1976.
A week after the gun attack in Templepatrick, the UVF carries out a gun attack on a Catholic-owned pub, the Ramble Inn. While described as a “reprisal” for the Walker’s bar attack, five of the six people killed in the Ramble Inn attack are Protestants, while the other victim is Catholic. Considered a failure or “own goal” by the UVF, the attack is carried out because the bar owners are Catholics and the gunmen expect that the patrons would mainly be Catholic.
The train is returning from Belfast, where King George V has just opened the first Parliament of Northern Ireland on June 22. It is part of a heavy security escort for the King, including the 10th Royal Hussars (machine gun troop) and their horses, who have been stationed at the Curragh in County Meath. Three special trains have been arranged to bring them back to Dublin, but the third is attacked.
The IRA plants a mine or detonates a bomb that partially derails the train a mile north of Adavoyle Station, between Newry and Dundalk. The derailment causes ten carriages to be thrown across an embankment, killing and injuring many soldiers and horses.
At least three British soldiers are killed (including a sergeant and a private) and twenty are wounded, some of whom later die from their injuries. The train guard, Frank Gallagher, is killed and two other railway officials are seriously injured. Reports vary about the number of horses killed. Some say over 40 horses are killed while others claim as many as 100. Many horses are shot to prevent them from being captured or causing further casualties. Soldiers reportedly weep for their dead horses, as they had served together in World War I. A local farmer and a train guard are also shot dead in the aftermath.
The attack causes an outcry in Britain, highlighting the IRA’s ability to strike high-profile military convoys. The incident underscores the vulnerability of British forces returning from political events in Ireland and is one of several such attacks during the War of Independence.
The Adavoyle ambush is remembered as a symbolic and brutal act in the conflict, combining military casualties with the killing of animals that have been comrades in war. It also illustrates the IRA’s use of railways as a strategic target during the campaign.
Today, the Adavoyle railway station is in ruins, though the Belfast-Dublin line still passes the site.
Currie becomes an active member in the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association (NICRA). He later speaks about the effect of partition on Catholics in Northern Ireland: “Partition was used to try to cut us off from the rest of the Irish nation. Unionists did their best to stamp out our nationalism and, the educational system, to the extent it could organise it, was oriented to Britain and we were not even allowed to use names such as Séamus or Seán. When my brothers’ godparents went to register their birth, they were told no such names as Séamus or Seán existed in Northern Ireland and were asked for the English equivalent.”
Currie contests the 1979 United Kingdom general election and 1986 by-election in the Fermanagh and South Tyrone seat, but is unsuccessful on both attempts. He also is elected to the Northern Ireland Assembly in 1982 for the same seat. That Assembly, which is an attempt by the Government of the United Kingdom to reintroduce devolved power-sharing, collapses in 1986 without executive ministerial functions ever being transferred to it from the UK Secretary of State for Northern Ireland as no political agreement can be reached on power-sharing between the parties owing to nationalists abstentionism over the constituency boundaries used to elect members, and unionist opposition to the Anglo-Irish Agreement of 1985.
Following his decision to quit Northern Ireland politics, and relocate his family to County Kildare, Currie becomes actively involved in politics in the Republic of Ireland. Partly due to his long-standing doubts about the commitment of politicians in the Republic to the plight of northern nationalists, he join the Fine Gael party in 1989. He is elected as a Fine Gael TD for Dublin West at the 1989 Irish general election.
In 1990, Fine Gael selects Currie as their candidate for the 1990 Irish presidential election, running against Tánaiste and Fianna Fáil TD, Brian Lenihan Sr, and Senator Mary Robinson for the Labour Party. The 1990 election is the first contested election for the Irish Presidency in 17 years. Currie receives 267,902 first-preference votes (approximately 17%) and is eliminated on the first count. The distribution of his votes sees Mary Robinson elected as Ireland’s first female president on the second count, beating Lenihan by more than 86,000 votes.
In his 2004 autobiography All Hell will Break Loose, Currie writes about his experience of running in the presidential election, and the prejudice he faced as a nationalist from Ulster in southern politics: “What annoyed, indeed angered me most was the suggestion that because I came from the North, I was not a real Irishman … what I called the partitionist mentality … [during the election campaign] the [then Fianna Fáil] Minister for Justice [Ray Burke] said Fine Gael leader Alan Dukes ‘had to go to Tyrone to find a candidate for the presidency’ … it was hard to take, particularly from so-called republicans.”
Following his defeat in the presidential election, Currie holds his Dáil seat in Dublin West at the 1992 and 1997 Irish general elections. Following the formation of the so-called Rainbow Coalition between Fine Gael, Labour and Democratic Left, on December 20, 1994, newly appointed TaoiseachJohn Bruton appoints him as a Minister of State with responsibility for Children’s Rights at the Departments of Health, Education and Justice, becoming the first ever minister in an Irish Government with dedicated responsibility for children. He holds this post until the appointment of a new Irish Government on June 26, 1997, following the 1997 Irish general election.
At the 2002 Irish general election Currie contests the new constituency of Dublin Mid-West, and fails to be elected. He immediately announces his retirement from electoral politics. He continues to speak and campaign for civil rights across the island of Ireland and for causes he believes in, such as justice for the families of the Disappeared during the Troubles. He and his wife and family are personal friends of the family of one of the Disappeared, Columba McVeigh, from Donaghmore, County Tyrone. His daughter Emer Currie is elected in his former constituency of Dublin West at the 2024 Irish general election.
Following the deaths of Seamus Mallon and John Hume in January and August 2020 respectively, Currie becomes the last surviving founder of the SDLP.
Currie dies on November 9, 2021, at the age of 82 at his residence in Derrymullen, County Kildare. Following an initial funeral mass in Allentown, County Kildare, his remains are transferred to his original family home in Edendork, near Dungannon, County Tyrone, where a second funeral mass was celebrated at St. Malachy’s Church, Edendork. He is buried alongside his parents in the cemetery adjoining the church.
As part of the 2008 Cork Midsummer Festival, 1,100 volunteers gather on the grounds of Blarney Castle in the early hours of Tuesday, June 17, 2008, and strip naked to have their picture taken at the famous location.
The occasion is the first shoot in Ireland by the American photographic artist Spencer Tunick, who has already made quite a name for himself shooting large groups of naked people in public spaces in New York City, Montreal, London and Amsterdam.
Like many of Tunick’s projects, the event in Cork comes about by invitation. “It was Mary McCarthy, the art curator at Dublin Docklands, who contacted me first,” says Tunick, via Zoom from his office in New York, of the organiser who is director of the Crawford Art Gallery in Cork. “Mary thought to make it a two-city project, in Cork and Dublin, and brought Cork Midsummer Festival on board. People think I can choose where I want to work, but it’s not as if I can get up and say, ‘hmm, I want to photograph 1,000 people in a volcanic crater in Hawaii.’ In reality, I need a team on the other side, helping me. And it was Mary who established that team in Ireland.”
McCarthy’s crew works with Tunick on selecting locations for his shoots. Blarney Castle appeals to Tunick. “When you think of a castle, you think of swords, you think of dreams, you think of battle and war,” he says. “But you might also think of the rose. I tried to combine a lot of different ideas or fantasies about the castle and connect them to the body. But there were also a lot of grounds around the castle, so I could have different set-ups and positions to shoot in.”
When Cork Midsummer Festival puts out a call for volunteers, it is inundated with applications. Those chosen are of all ages, and from all walks of life. “I think sometimes people associate my live works with young people. But there’s often a lot of people over 50, and into their 80s, at this great unifying event that touches on the idea of group photo gatherings from the 1920s. When you see a big haul of people lined up, undressed of course, it combines group portraiture with abstraction and the naked body.”
At Blarney Castle, beginning around 5:30 a.m., he shoots the crowd in a variety of poses on the castle lawns, facing toward and away from the camera, then lying on their backs as they each held a single rose aloft (pictured above), red for the women and white for the men. He then photographs a small number on their knees in the river that runs through the grounds, and a smaller number again kissing the Blarney Stone. Some participants see the photo shoot as an opportunity to challenge the general disapproval of nakedness that prevails in the Ireland of their youth. Others see it as a way to make peace with their body image.
Later that morning, Tunick photographs about 50 naked volunteers covered in foam at White Street Carpark in Cork city centre. “As a kid, I was always fascinated by the bubble scene in Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the film,” says Tunick. “So, I wanted, in a whimsical and surreal way, to amplify my memories of that. But I also wanted to work with the history of the area, so I infused Murphy’s beer into four bubble machines and created a snow globe effect with the nudes. That was beautiful.”
Looking back on the photographs, one is struck by how most of the bodies are white. If it is true that Cork has become far more ethnically diverse city since that day in 2008, one must also wonder if Tunick’s call for volunteers appealed to a certain demographic. “I always ask the organisers to do community outreach in different areas, so we can get more colour and ethnicities into the work,” he says. “But sometimes it doesn’t really resonate, and sometimes the population is not there, you know. And often, where that population exists, it might not be connected to the body in contemporary art. But I’ve always tried, and now I insist that the organisers make an extra effort.”
Tunick’s shoots at Blarney Castle and White Street attract lavish coverage in the media, a reflection perhaps on how they coincide with a change in the public perception of nudity. The project would almost certainly have caused an uproar even twenty years previously. Participants describe a sense of joy and liberation. “This was definitely pre-Instagram, right? And now when we’re on Instagram, we think the whole world is accepting of nudity in public, but back then, there was not that same outlet for my images. But there was that documentation by the press, and through that, I think people realised that something had happened that went against the grain in a positive way.”
Four days later, Tunick photographs 2,500 naked volunteers on the South Wall in Dublin. Again, the event attracts headlines, but already, it seems, the culture has moved on, and there is not quite that same element of surprise and delight as there had been in Cork.
Tunick has done many projects since. Some of his favourites include those in Kingston upon Hull in 2016 and on the Dead Sea in 2011 and again in 2021. “I like working with props. In Cork, I used roses and beer foam. But now I like working with body paint. In Hull, we covered around 4,000 people in four shades of blue. The blues were those of the water I saw in a number of paintings in the Maritime Museum in the city. I asked Pantone to replicate the colours, and those were the blues we used. Not many people know that.”
“My projects in the Dead Sea were partly about showing how the salt in the water could elevate the body. That created a very interesting, otherworldly effect in the photographs. But they also aimed to raise awareness of how the Dead Sea is disappearing because of irrigation to serve the need for drinking water by adjoining countries such as Israel and Jordan. It’s a very difficult situation.”
Many photographers find their work curtailed by pandemic restrictions of the early 2020s. Tunick too is forced to postpone photographing groups of people on location, but he does find a way to go on creating. “An art collective called Studio 333 in Mexico asked me if I wanted to do group works on video chats, and offered to manage it technically. So we started making group works with people from all walks of life, all around the world. We had someone in Saudi Arabia posing with someone in Israel. We had people in Australia, people in Europe, people all over the world. I think the only place we weren’t able to work with was Antarctica, but who knows? Maybe that’s in the future.” The resulting images are published online, on Tunick and Studio 333’s websites and social media accounts, under the collective title ”Stay Apart Together.”
As for the future, Tunick would love to work in Ireland again, he says. “It’s always been my dream to do a work in Northern Ireland, maybe with 100 or 200 people on the Giant’s Causeway? I can’t have too many, because then you wouldn’t see the rocks. Northern Ireland, the Giant’s Causeway… that project’s been on my mind for a long time, so hopefully some museum or curator will invite me to do it.”
(From: “Cork in 50 Artworks, No 49: Spencer Tunick’s nude installation at Blarney Castle” by Marc O’Sullivan, Irish Examiner, http://www.irishexaminer.com, April 11, 2022 | Pictured: Blarney Castle with the crowd assembled by Spencer Tunick)
On June 15, 1988, an unmarked military van carrying six British Army soldiers is blown up by the Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA) at Market Place in Lisburn, County Antrim, Northern Ireland. The explosion takes place at the end of a charity marathon run in which the soldiers had participated. All six soldiers are killed in the attack – four outright, one on his way to hospital and another later on in hospital.
Lisburn is the headquarters of the British Army in Northern Ireland. Four of the dead are from the Royal Corps of Signals while the other two are from the Green Howards and the Royal Army Ordnance Corps. A booby trap bomb is hidden under the Ford Transit van in which the soldiers are traveling, and is designed in such a way that the blast goes upward to cause maximum damage to the vehicle. Eleven civilian bystanders are injured, including a two-year-old child and 80-year-old man. The bombing is sometimes referred to as the Lisburn “Fun Run” bombing.
On Wednesday, June 15, 1988, at 8:50 p.m., an unmarked blue Ford Transit van carrying six off-duty British soldiers in civilian clothes drives off from a leisure centre carpark in Lisburn. The soldiers have just taken part in the “Lisburn Fun Run”, a 13-mile (21 km) charity half marathon held in the town. They leave the van unattended in the car park, which is the start and finish point for the run. It is there that an IRA active service unit (ASU), who has been following the van, hides a bomb underneath the vehicle. The half marathon and shorter “fun runs” are organised by Lisburn Borough Council, together with the YMCA, to raise funds for the disabled. There are 4,500 participants that day and at least 200 British Army personnel have been given leave to participate in the event.
Nine minutes later, the van stops at traffic lights at Market Place, in Lisburn’s town centre. As the van moves on, the seven-pound (3.2 kg) bomb detonates, turning the van into a massive fireball and instantly killing four of the soldiers as the vehicle disintegrates with the force of the blast. The Semtex device has been designed in a cone shape to channel the blast upward, thereby causing maximum damage to the vehicle and the soldiers inside. The area around Market Place is crowded with onlookers, including many teenagers and families with young children, although the biggest crowd is at the carpark. In all, about 10,000 onlookers have attended the charity run. There is pandemonium as frightened parents search for their children, while others rush to give aid to the dead and dying soldiers before fire engines and ambulances arrive.
Eleven civilian bystanders are injured in the attack, including a two-year-old child and an 80-year-old man. Another soldier dies on the way to hospital while a sixth soldier dies later that night after undergoing surgery for severe head injuries. The dead soldiers are stationed at Ebrington Barracks in Derry and are returning to base when the bomb goes off. Four of the men – Sergeant Michael Winkler (31), Signalman Mark Clavey (24), Lance Corporal Graham Lambie (22), and Corporal William Patterson (22) – are from the Royal Corps of Signals, while the other two – Corporal Ian Metcalf (36) and Lance Corporal Derek Green (20) – are from the Green Howards and Royal Army Ordnance Corps respectively.
Lisburn is a mainly Ulster Protestant town, 14 miles (23 km) southwest of Belfast. It serves as the garrison headquarters of the British Army in Northern Ireland. Six months before the van bombing, a booby trap bomb planted by the IRA kills Ulster Defence Association (UDA) leader John McMichael in the town.
The van bombing results in the greatest loss of life suffered by the British Army since eleven soldiers were killed in the Droppin Well Disco bombing on December 6, 1982.
On June 16, the Provisional IRA Belfast Brigade claims responsibility for the bombing, promising to wage “unceasing war” against the British security forces in Northern Ireland. Sinn Féin president Gerry Adams allegedly says that the IRA’s killing of the six soldiers is “vastly preferable” to killing members of the (locally recruited) Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR) or Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC). The leisure centre is forced to remain shut for a time after the loyalistProtestant Action Force (a cover-name of the UVF) issues a warning that they regard Catholic staff working there as “legitimate targets,” inferring that they may have had a hand in the bombing. Lisburn mayor Councillor William Bleakes condemns the threats by the PAF.
That same day, Tom King, then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, travels to Lisburn where he holds a meeting with Lieutenant General Sir John Waters, the British Army Commander in Northern Ireland, and senior RUC officers. They discuss the attack and proposals for heightened security. The soldiers had failed to follow proper security procedures, as they had left their vehicle unguarded for over two hours and had then driven off without having checked under it beforehand. After the Lisburn meeting, King flies to London where he reports directly to British Prime MinisterMargaret Thatcher, who describes the attack as a “terrible atrocity.” However, she rejects demands from Conservative members of Parliament to bring back internment, regarding the proposal as “a very serious step.”
In his statement to the House of Commons, Tom King suggests that there would have been a much higher death toll had the bomb exploded in the carpark, where thousands of people had gathered after the run.
The Republic of Ireland‘s government also strongly condemns the killings and extends its sympathy to the families of the dead soldiers. The bombing is a topic of debate in the Seanad Éireann on June 16, 1988. Bishop Cahal Daly of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Down and Connor denounces the bombers and the killings in the “strongest possible terms.”
Questions are raised as to how the IRA knew the soldiers were attending the charity run in Lisburn, how they recognised their unmarked van, and how the unit was able to plant a bomb in the predominantly loyalist town without being spotted, despite the number of people in the carpark. The RUC believes that the bombers may have been wearing sports gear as they mingled with the crowd that evening. They appeal to onlookers who had attended the event to hand over any film they may have taken of the “fun run” in an attempt to identify the IRA bombers.
The following Saturday, between 1,000 and 2,000 people gather in Lisburn town centre to attend a remembrance service for the six soldiers. A book of condolences is also opened.
In 1921, McCaughey’s family moves to the Ardoyne district in north Belfast. Hus father is a founding member of the Irish republican Dungannon Clubs and organizes the first branch of Sinn Féin in County Tyrone. As a teenager he joins the Gaelic League and Sinn Féin and also becomes a long time student and teacher of the Irish language in the Glens of Antrim. He joins the IRA in 1935 and in 1938 is promoted to Officer Commanding (O/C) of its Northern Command, headquartered near the town of Carrickmore, County Tyrone, which is the ancestral home of Joseph McGarrity and Patrick McCartan, both leaders of the Irish republican organization Clan na Gael. In December 1939, he is arrested and imprisoned at the Curragh Camp. After being released in 1940 he returns to the Northern Command of the IRA. He is held in high regard and is considered to be one of the best officers of the northern IRA. At the time of his arrest in Rathmines, Dublin, on September 2, 1941, he is acting Chief of Staff.
In September 1941, McCaughey is found guilty by a Dublin court of having detained and assaulted Stephen Hayes, IRA Chief of Staff, who was accused of being a spy for the Irish Free State government. Hayes escapes and later testifies against him at a Military Court. He is sentenced to death by firing squad. His sentence is commuted to a life sentence of penal servitude.
Imprisoned in Portlaoise Prison on July 24, 1941, McCaughey joins other IRA prisoners in the ongoing blanket protest. Refusing to wear a criminal’s prison clothes, he is kept in solitary confinement and spends nearly five years naked except for a blanket. This form of resistance by Irish republican prisoners is also used in the 1980s blanket protests in the Maze prison (also known as “Long Kesh”) and the HM Prison Armagh (women’s prison) in Northern Ireland. He and other Irish republican prisoners endure years of hardships. Sitting month after month, year after year in bleak solitary cells, they are taken out once a week for a bath, and for the rest of the week live the life of an animal trapped in a burrow. That they do not go mad is a remarkable comment on mans capacity for survival. During his almost five years in Portlaoise, he Is never permitted to have visitors.
McCaughey commences a hunger strike on April 19, 1946. After ten days, he stops taking water and dies on May 11, 1946, the twenty-third day of his protest. An inquest is held in the prison at which the prison doctor admits that during his over four and a half years of imprisonment that McCaughey had never been allowed out in the fresh air or sunlight and that “he would not treat his dog the way Seán McCaughey had been treated in Portlaoise.”
McCaughey is the last person to die on hunger strike in the Irish state. There is a long history of hunger striking in Ireland – within the 20th century a total of 22 Irish republicans die on hunger strike with survivors suffering long-term health and psychological effects. Four men die during the 1920 Cork hunger strike. The largest hunger strike in Irish history is the 1923 Irish hunger strikes, during which five men die. Ten men die during the 1981 Irish hunger strike.
(Pictured: Seán McCaughey (right) and Charlie McGlade, O’Connell Street, Dublin, 1941)
On June 5, 1976, a bomb explodes at the door of the Times Bar on York Road, killing two Protestants. The pub is frequented by members of the Ulster Defence Association (UDA), a legal loyalist paramilitary group. Irish republicans are blamed for the bombing. Shortly after, the UVF Brigade Staff (its Shankill Road-based leadership) decide to hit back by attacking the Chlorane Bar. It is a hastily arranged operation devised by its military commander “Bunter,” whom investigative journalistMartin Dillon refers to as “Mr. F.” The Chlorane Bar is located at 23 Gresham Street in Belfast’s city centre, near Smithfield Market. Its clientele is mixed (Protestant and Catholic), which is unusual during The Troubles. On August 17, 1973, the Chlorane Bar had been firebombed, however, no one was injured as the pub was closed at the time of the attack. Later that same month, the Ulster Freedom Fighters (UFF), a cover name sometime used by the UDA, claim responsibility for a car bomb which exploded in Gresham Street. Although there were no human casualties, a pet shop located near the bomb’s epicentre was damaged in the blast and a number of animals inside the building were either killed or injured.
The attack is planned and executed by the UVF platoons based at the Brown Bear and the Windsor Bar respectively. These are two pubs located on the Shankill Road and regularly frequented by UVF members. Dillon sometimes refers to the former platoon as the “Brown Bear Team” because the members generally meet at that particular pub, which faces Shankill Library on the corner of Mountjoy Street. To carry out the attack, along with the procuring of weapons and masks, a black taxi is hijacked by two young men outside the Long Bar on the Shankill Road to transport the gunmen to the Chlorane Bar. Taxi driver Mark Hagan and a passenger are held hostage at the Windsor Bar.
The Chlorane Bar is likely chosen for its nearness to the Shankill Road, affording the attackers a speedy getaway. There is not much of a security presence that evening in the area. The driver of the taxi, with four specifically chosen armed men seated in the rear of the vehicle in the manner of genuine passengers, makes his way from the Shankill Road to North Street and turns south into Gresham Street. Upon arrival outside the Chlorane Bar, the four gunmen don their masks, devised from yellow money bags, and exit the taxi.
At 10:00 p.m., the four masked gunmen storm through Chlorane Bar’s front door leading to the public bar. There are about sixteen customers inside the pub at the time. One of the four gunmen is Robert “Basher” Bates, a member of the violent Shankill Butchers gang led by Lenny Murphy, who is in police custody at the time the attack against the Chlorane takes place. Bates is the only one of the four to have been from the “Brown Bear Team.” The hit squad is commanded by a “Mr. G,” leader of the Windsor Bar UVF platoon, with “Mr. D” as his second-in-command and “Mr. C” completing the team. Entering the bar in single file, “Mr. G” orders everybody to stand up, and then asks the startled customers whether there are any “Prods” (Protestants) among them. William Greer, a Protestant, thinking the gunmen are from the Irish Republican Army, quickly flees to the men’s toilet where he places his feet up against the door. Customer Frederick Graham and his girlfriend, Pat Mahood, assume the same thing. “Mr. G” tells the customers to separate into two groups, with the Protestants standing at the bottom end of the bar, and the Catholics at the top.
When one man, Edward Farrell, admits to being a Catholic, the UVF men open fire. Farrell tries to run toward the toilet but is shot dead. The Catholic owner of the Chlorane, 64-year-old James Coyle, is standing behind the bar when he is hit at close-range. The bullet enters his heart and he dies instantly. The gunmen continue firing and two Protestant men, Daniel McNeil and Samuel Corr, are also struck by the hail of bullets. McNeil is killed on the spot and Corr is fatally wounded. Another Catholic man, John Martin, is shot and dies of his injuries on June 23. Several other customers are hit as gunfire is sprayed around the bar. One customer pretends to be dead, however, a gunman walks over to where he lay and deliberately fires three shots into his thigh, knee, and below the ankle. The man later recounts that he had then looked up to see “men lying shot all over the place.” William Greer, hiding in the toilet, is shot when one of the gunmen fire through the door. He survives despite being hit in the leg and neck. There are more customers upstairs in the lounge area, but although they hear the gunshots, the gunmen never go near them. Dillon maintains that it had not been the UVF unit’s intention to kill any Protestants.
“Mr. G” calls a halt to the shooting, saying “that’s it,” and the four-man UVF team nonchalantly walks out of the pub and re-enters the hijacked black taxi, which is parked so the driver has easy access to North Street. This route offers a quick return to the Shankill. After the four men get into the back seat, the driver (“Mr. H”) drives off. As the taxi passes by the Catholic Unity Flats area, three shots are fired from the vehicle. Two young men walking nearby get a look at the driver. He is described as being around 38 to 40 years old and having shoulder-length, black curly hair. Upon the taxi’s return to the Shankill, Mark Hagan and the passenger are released. They immediately go to the Tennent Street Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) Station off the Shankill where they report the taxi’s hijacking. The shooting team proceeds to the Long Bar pub where “Mr. I” (commander of UVF 1st Battalion) procures a forty-ounce bottle of vodka for “Mr. G” and “Mr. D” – their payment for leading the operation.
Having heard the gunshots, a barmaid serving in the upstairs lounge goes downstairs to investigate and discovers the body of her employer, James Coyle, lying on the floor behind the bar and those of the other dead and wounded. The first policeman on the scene is Constable George McElnea, from the RUC Special Patrol Group in Tennent Street. He quickly notices the pile of bodies near the men’s toilet as Samuel Corr stumbles toward him, gravely injured. McElnea places Corr on a bench and offers what assistance he can but to no avail. Corr dies of his gunshot wounds before the ambulance arrives. Alan McCrum, a Scenes of Crime officer, appears at the Chlorane fifteen minutes after the shootings. He retrieves 24 spent bullet casings from the floor and determines that most of the shots had been fired at the rear of the pub. Later ballistic testing establishes that the weapons used in the attack were a .22 caliber pistol, a 9 mm pistol, and two .45 snub-nosed revolvers. Police believe one of the victims, Daniel McNeil, had tenuous UVF connections, although he is not an active member.
The hijacked black taxi is found by police the following morning in a cul-de-sac in Beresford Street, off the Shankill Road. A cyclist, who had witnessed the masked gunmen entering the Chlorane Bar, describes the four men as having been in the 20 to 30 age group, all about 5’10 in height and well-built. The last gunman to enter had shoulder-length brown hair. The witness had gone to a nearby British Army post where he told soldiers what he had seen.
Ten days after the gun attack, the Chlorane Bar is blown up by a bomb. Three weeks after the attack the Provisional IRA, using their sometime cover-name of the “Republican Action Force“, enter Walker’s Bar in Templepatrick and kill three Protestant civilians in retaliation for the Chlorane attack. As part of this series of deadly tit for tat attacks on pubs, the UVF responds by killing six customers at the Catholic-owned Ramble Inn outside Antrim.
No one is ever charged with the shootings. In February 1979, Bates is convicted of the murders he had committed as part of the Shankill Butchers, and given ten life sentences. In his statement to the police following his arrest in 1977, he recounts his role in the Chlorane Bar attack. He alleges while working as a barman in the Long Bar on the evening of June 5, 1976, he is approached by the UVF military commander, “Mr. F”, who informs him of a job in which he is to take part that same evening. It is decided to attack the city centre pub in retaliation for the IRA’s earlier bombing of The Times pub. Bates goes on to say that “Mr. I” provides the weapons which are used in the shooting and “Mr. J” (UVF Provost Marshal) procures the masks. Bates claims that his revolver malfunctions and therefore he never fires his gun during the attack. However, forensic evidence proves that two .45 revolvers had been fired inside the Chlorane. Upon his release from the HM Prison Maze, Bates is gunned-down in June 1997 by the son of James Curtis Moorhead, a UDA man he had killed in 1977.
seamus dubhghaill 