One of the worse tasks was patrolling the borders between Northern & Southern Ireland. Since the beginnings of the troubles a lot of minor roads running between the north and south were closed by blowing craters in the road, this was to reduce the flow of traffic coming into the north. Anybody coming in from the South, then had to enter via a control point where their vehicles could be searched if they were suspect. The IRA used to go out on a night time using diggers and refill the holes if they need to get supplies into the south. The duties of the patrol was to check on these craters to make sure they hadn’t been filled in again. The patrol always set of at dark and maybe had a 5 mile patch to patrol. Apart from the danger of been ambushed, there was always dangers of hidden claymore mines planted along the route.
An eight man patrol set out one evening in late November te cold wind biting into them as they slowly made their way along the border. Each step was taken carefully looking out for booby traps and listening for any sounds of movement or machinery. Two miles down the border and everything was quite, as they say too quiet. The intense concentration needed in this situation can at times play tricks upon your mind, hearing sounds that don’t exist. A couple of further yards down the border and voices are heard, the patrol leader signals for everybody to go low, everybody’s ears strain trying to catch what is been said. At this point I have to make it clear of the problems a soldier faced. Because Southern Ireland was a separate country, no soldier was allowed to cross over the border, without causing a big political issue. To fire a shot in anger across the border would have cause a major political scandal that would rock the halls of parliament. That is why a lot of incidents happened on the borders as a terroirist could merrily run back into southern Ireland knowing he was safe from the British soldiers.
As the patrol made its way forward slowly up in front they could see four men filling in a crater. The patrol leader motioned the patrol to sweep round to circle the men. Within 5 minutes the patrol was in place, The patrol leader and 2 others now approached the men and challenged them. The men put down their shovels as 3 of the patrol approached them. The patrol leader ordered them to produce their identity, then in a moment of madness all hell broke lose. One of the Irishmen as he went to get his paper drew a revolver and shot the patrol leader directly in the head. The 2 other soldiers beside him froze and hit the deck, a short firefight broke out and the terrorists escaped unharmed safely across the border. The radio operator quick broke the radio silence screaming down the radio “man down man down”. One of the patrol quickly ran to the patrol leader and using what was available try to stop the bleeding. Within minutes a helicopter arrived to carry him of to the nearest hospital. The 2 soldiers who wee with him on the road also went with them both suffering from shock. The rest of the patrol stood. Some covered in blood from a falling comrade, all praying that he would survive. Vehicles arrived to take them back to camp, where they would be isolated from the others till they give statement on what happened on the patrol. As they made their way back to camp the news filtered through, their patrol leader had died from one single gunshot wound that penetrated his brain.
The aftermath of an incident like this is first sadness, but sadness leads to hate and hate leads to bitterness. You question the politicians on why aren’t you allowed to give chase to terrorist, why was there no support from forces from the south. The mood in camp is like a ghost town, no rowdiness from solders relaxing having a few beers, each whispering in little groups talking about the incident. The 2 soldiers who were with the patrol leader at the time were fresh from training, their first time on patrol, both were shipped back to England suffering from shock and never returned to Ireland. In a internal inquiry it was asked why 2 inexperienced soldiers were allowed to accompany the patrol leader, when they plainly didn’t know how to react in that situation. A lot of lessons was learned that day, but what price was the lesson. A 22 year old man was killed leaving a young wife and a baby girl of a few months who would grow up without a father but knowing he died a hero.
