Near death, well.... & chapter 13.

I did a stupid thing tonight. 

I decided to make a curry, I like them hot, spicy. 

I was brought up in an army family and we live in North Malaya (Tiaping) where hot curries were the norm. 

Anyway, I shopped and bought all the ingredients I thought I needed. Nice chicken breast and some bit and pieces. 

I did all the chopping and mixing and put it on simmer. It was just before 5 so I put the radio onto BBC radio 4, a great news program, it saves me watching news all night on the TV.

I fell asleep.

I have an open plan down stairs, it's handy but it does have it's problems. You have to put the washing machine on either when your going out or to bed. The smell of cooking gets in the lounge. But it's convenient. 

It's funny really because it's only this week I thought I did need a smoke detector, it is on my mind. 

I woke up, coughing and spluttering. Put the pan outside and stood outside getting some fresh air for a while. 

It was close. ............ It could have been much worse. A warning.

Yes, I need to eat more salads. 

Chapter 13. Thursday 15^th June 1972.

I went to the bus depot on the Short Strand the next morning, and went straight up the stairs to the main office.

“You want to hand your notice in?”   The girl could not believe what I had just said. She looked round at the other office workers.

“Mr. Deery wants to hand his notice in.”   The girl was going to make a fuss. She had turned round so her voice reached the whole office.

“You've not been here very long. You’ll still have to work your notice. It’s company rules.”   She was not going to make this easy for me.

“How much time for holidays do I have left?”   I stared hard at her; it was now becoming a battle of wills.

“Just stay there.” She went off to check my records.

“Jesus, where do you think I’m going?” I said sarcastically.

She walked off to the filing cabinets at the other end of the large office.  I saw her talking with one of the more senior women and after a few minutes, she returned with a pencil and pad.

 “You have seventeen days holiday.”   She looked puzzled because she knew I had not been at the depot that long.

“I had some holidays from my last depot. They came with me, when I transferred,” I explained. I was thankful someone had done their job properly.  I’d never even been to the other depot.

“Well you could use the holidays for your notice, but that doesn’t give us much time to replace you.” She knew she had lost this one. But as a parting shot she added, “The work can go to someone who’s grateful.”

“Fine, when do you want me to come in for my pay?”   I was leaning against the counter and getting cocky, when the door to Jackson’s office opened.  I stood up quickly.

“Hello Deery.”   Jackson never missed a thing.

“Oh, hello Sir.”   I just wanted to get out of the place, with the least amount of fuss. I really didn’t want to have to start explaining what was going on.

“How’s the job going?”   He was just keeping his finger on the pulse, passing the time.

“I have to leave sir, my mother's not well and I’m going to Liverpool to help her out.”   I hadn't thought of a good reason, I was hoping to just get in and out again.

“Oh, I am sorry, is she very bad?”   He looked concerned. Now I was really on the back foot.

“She’s never really been all that well since she lost my small brother.”   Another unnecessary lie, I usually tried to keep it simple.

“How sad,”   Jackson had a look of great sympathy,   “if you do come back, come and see me.”   He shook my hand and patted me on the back. I was touched. He walked off as the girl came back. She had a form for me.

“Could you fill this in, and I’ll see when your money will be ready.”   She went off to consult with the senior woman again. As I completed the leaving form, she came back.

“We can pay you this afternoon, if you want to come back later.”   Her tone had changed. She had overheard the conversation between me and Jackson.

“Yes, I could get back and it would be helpful to wrap things up quickly.”   I was feeling a bit better this had started to go to plan.

“Don’t forget to bring in your uniform, badge and bus pass. Go down stairs and hand in your ticket machine and get the clerk to sign here.”   She pointed to the form.

As I went down the stairs into the daylight, It came to me, that I had been in the pay of the British Army, the IRA and the bus company all at the same time. At the bottom of the stairs I bumped into Tommy O’Neil. He’d seen me go up and had been waiting.

“Did you hand your notice in?”   He was puffing on his pipe.

“Yes, and I’m getting seventeen day’s holiday pay.”   He looked around to see if anyone was within earshot, and took the pipe out of his mouth.

“We want to keep you away from normal operations, do you understand?”   He had an intense look on his face. “You have to stay out of trouble, keep yourself well away from the normal day to day harassment of the army, this job is special.”  He looked around again, “that’s why you have been chosen.”

I had to keep a smile off my face, he didn’t know anything about me, where had all this trust come from? Looking back now, he probably didn’t have many people he could trust, and I had shown as much get- up and go as anybody.

“I’ll do my best.”   As I looked at him, I realized he wasn’t doing this for profit or selfish reasons, he was doing this because he thought it was right. He was doing these things because he wanted to improve the lot of the people he lived with. It was why he was a union leader, why he struggled with paperwork long into the night.

“I want you and Johnny to look after one another.”   He was standing close to me now.   “People are dying, people are getting hurt, and I don’t want you two running unnecessary risks.”   It’s strange that a man, who can order shootings, beatings and all manner of punishment for the smallest indiscretions, could be so protective of people close to him. The bottom line was he wanted me to look after his son.

I gave him a friendly punch on his shoulder,    “Oh we’ll be okay.”   At that moment the heavens opened.

“Go and see Johnny.”   He held his newspaper above his head.

I started to make my way to the main gate, and waved as I ran off, glad to get away. By the time I had got to Johnny's, I was wet through.

“I’ve been to hand my notice in,” I said, as I went though the door. Johnny was in his underpants and had just got out of bed.

“Shit, you’re in a rush. I’ll do that when I’m ready.”   He wandered into the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove, I followed him in.

“So what happens now?”  I felt Johnny must have all the plans.

“I don’t know at yet, but we’ll be told soon enough. Do you fancy a game of pool?” He was smiling at the thought of no work.

“Get your kecks on, I’m going to thrash you.”   Johnny smacked me on the side of the head, as he went past.

“I want three sugars and no milk.”   He skipped off up the stairs, and I could hear him getting dressed. The kitchen was a simple affair, Belfast sink with a network of cracks in it and a wooden draining board, a kitchen table with two chairs and a stool. The cooker was out of the ark, but it was spotlessly clean. I couldn’t find the milk, but three sugars made it drinkable. Johnny came running down the stairs, and then we sat and drank the tea.

“It’s going to be great, not having to get up in the morning. I hate those early shifts.”   Johnny was putting on his socks, his feet were filthy, but the house had no bathroom, only the sink in the kitchen. The tin bath hung in the backyard on a six inch nail. Johnny's feet showed that he didn’t get the bath down very often.  I was glad to get out of the house and onto the road.

“I bet you don’t even win one game, I’m on form at the moment.”   Johnny was eager to start the game. We crossed over Mount Pottinger Road and headed for the club, which I expected would be full of men, who had no job. The only place to get out of the way of the wife or the mother was the club. We went down Madrid Street, across the road. I saw the army patrol, so did Johnny, but we had nothing to worry about, we were clean. Even if we got pulled over, a quick check on the radio and we’d be gone.

“Excuse me sir.”   There was heavy sarcasm in the soldier’s voice. Johnny had been slightly in the lead, so he was the focus of the soldier’s attention. He put Johnny against the wall; I decided to carry on walking.  The next soldier along the road had moved up close by now; he pulled me over. It was Barry Thompson.

“Get your hands on that wall.”   We recognised each other straight away, but I could see there was confusion on his face.  He had no idea what I was doing walking along the streets of Belfast, with my hair long and unkempt and unshaven. He spun me round.

“Billy, it’s me, Barry.”   I looked over at Johnny, who had his own problems. He’d been spread eagled against the wall. The soldier was kicking his legs wider and wider, making life uncomfortable for him.

The army were not going to tell everyone who was on undercover work. It was a fluke, that I had been stopped by one of my own Regiment. I had to think fast.

Barry didn’t know what danger he was putting me in. He was about to blow the whole operation. I turned my back on Barry and put my hands on the wall, I just needed a few seconds to think.

“My names William Deery.”  I wanted Barry to pick up quickly.

“What the fuck are you on about?”  Barry spun me round again, I spat in his face. Barry’s temper was legendary; he reacted just as I’d hoped. He brought his rifle down across my face, I went down.  Another soldier from the squad had come across the road to help out.

“Hello, Charlie One to Alpha One, over.”  The radio operator had an edge in his voice that made Alpha One answer quickly.

“Alpha One, over.”  It was the plummy voice of an officer.

“We need a mobile at the junction of Madrid and Edgar Street, over.”   There was a long pause.

“Alpha One to Charlie One, Roger.”   The voice replied.  “The wagon’s on its way.”   I was still lying on the floor, I wanted to stay down. Barry lent down and whispered into my ear.

“What’s going on?”   I could see that Johnny had his own problems and was not listening to us.

“Barry what ever happens do not lift the other guy.”  Barry looked over to where Johnny was being frisked, and at that moment a couple of Land Rovers came up the street. They screeched to a halt and six more bodies poured onto the streets, taking up defensive positions. I was thrown into the first one and a couple of soldiers got on the back standing plate. As we pulled off, I could see Johnny being pushed away, they had released him.

The Land Rover raced through the streets, throwing everyone around, but it didn’t take long till we were pulling into the back yard of Mount Pottinger Police Station. They left me in the back of the Rover for a few minutes, but eventually I was pulled out and taken in through the back door, down a corridor and thrown into a cell. The door was slammed shut. After half an hour, the door was opened and a Sergeant came in, he had a pad in his hand and took out a pencil.

“Give me your details, son.”   He licked the end of his pencil and sat waiting for the information.

“Get me Lt. Simon Adder; he’s in Intelligence at Holywood Barracks.”   He wrote this down “If you can’t get in touch with him, speak to Major Ellis.”   He started off, obediently, “Oh and bring me a cup of tea, two sugars.”

I lit a cigarette while he was away. It was half an hour before another soldier brought the tea in.

“Can you come through?”    There was a markedly different attitude. He didn’t know who or what I was, but the atmosphere had changed.

The phone was lying on the desk, and the sergeant pointed to it. I lifted the phone and said,   “Hello?”   Simon was on the other end.

Simon said, “In the shit again?”    I smiled.

“Yes, I was stopped by an old friend and he nearly gave it away, but I don’t think Johnny picked up on it.”   Simon thought for a while.   “Are you sure?”

“Well you never know, but he had his hands full at the time, having his balls felt.”

“Have you had any more instructions?”   Simon was keen to find out more.

“No, we were just off to the club for a game of pool. Johnny’s expecting things to start to happen soon.”   There was a pause, while Simon got an instruction from some one else, who must have been listening.

“Go to the club, tell O’Neil that you were mistaken for Seamus Deery from Anderson Town, he may know him. Can you put on the duty Sergeant.”

I offered him the phone, and sat down. The Sergeant stood there nodding his head while listening and after a few minutes, put the phone down. He went over to his log and jotted down the time and a few more details and then looked over to me.

“Which door do you want to leave by?”

I was soon at the club it was smoky, warm and full of men who have nothing better to do. I walked over to Johnny, two pints in my hand. He was leaning over the table taking aim. I waited for him to take his shot; he missed, and came over to me.

“You know how to upset the bastards, don’t you?”   He lifted his pint, he was relaxed, no sign of distrust.

“The daft twats thought I was John Deery from Anderson Town, and that cunt that lifted me, he’s given me trouble before.”   I watched how this went down. Johnny just turned to the other men.

“Hey they thought he was Deery from the other side of the water.”   Everyone started to laugh.

We played pool all afternoon, slowly getting drunk. Johnny would get angry, if he was beaten, but most of the time he was happy, he was playing well. I was listening in to as many conversations as possible, and generally picking up snippets hear and there, logging faces, evaluating.  We were both happy.

At about half past five, Tommy O’Neil came in. I had my back to the wall, on the far side from the door and was playing cards with two older men. I clocked him straight away. He bought himself a half of beer, and leaning against the bar, looked around, nodding at people who greeted him. After a while he managed to make eye contact with Johnny. He made a nod to a quiet corner and Johnny nodded back.

It was the only time I have ever seen Johnny set someone up, for an easy finish. He shook hands with the winner and strolled over to where his father was sitting, reading some notes. I watched as they put their heads together. Johnny was being give instructions. From the movement of his hands, Tommy was obviously giving directions to somewhere on the other side of town. Then he looked at his watch, put his documents away in his well-worn briefcase, finished the last mouthful of beer and left.

Johnny looked around to see where I was. I was still playing cards, with my head down.

“Hey Doc Holliday, come on, we have to leave.”    I looked up, as surprised as I could manage.

“Give me a mo, I’ve still got this.”   I pointed at my pint.

“No leave it; you’ll have plenty of time for that later.”   I jumped up, without even finishing the hand of cards.

It was early evening as we left the club and there was a light drizzle, as we walked over the Albert Bridge with hands in our pockets. We kept off the main drag where we could. This was in a period of frequent drive-by shootings. They happened for no other reason than someone thought the victim was ‘one of them’.

We weaved through the streets, until suddenly we were at the foot of Divis Flats. It was a monstrous mass of concrete and glass, already showing early signs of wear and tear. Johnny looked at the signs, 106 to 142, with an arrow down that way, 143 to 162 this way, and led the way.  Eventually, he knocked on a door. We were about five floors up, the windows that faced the corridor had newspapers stuck on the inside, not very house proud then.

“Who’s there?”   The occupant was being careful.

“It’s Johnny, I’ve been sent by Anderson.”   Johnny was looking up and down the landing. The door opened, inside there were no carpets, but the man who answered the door, I recognized straight away. It was The Hunter from the training camp. He shut the door and bolted top and bottom. I passed the small kitchen as we went through, just a bottle of beer standing on the work top and a few dirty cups in the sink. In the living room, cheap curtains hung on string, held up by three nails. There was a bed in the corner, no other furniture, just a radio on the floor and two more empty bottles of beer, next to the radio.

“I’m Johnny, this is Billy.”   He held out his hand. The little man took Johnny’s hand and shook it.

“Jonas.”  He shook my hand.   “Please, sit.”   He pointed to the bed, unmade of course. We sat down, it felt damp, the sheets and blankets were old and not very clean.

He came back from the kitchen with three bottles of beer, pulled out a bottle opener and gave us one each. He sat on the floor on the opposite side of the room, leaning against the wall.

“My team have been arrested. Do you have police records?”

We both thought for a while, trying to figure out how much to tell him.

“You must be truthful.”   He could see we were undecided.

“Well, I’ve been lifted a few times,” Johnny came in first,   “but I’ve never been in court.”   Johnny looked at me; I was busy trying to separate my two roles.

I had been given a caution by the police, but that was in Liverpool, and I am not that same person today, but it still took me a few seconds to think about this. I shook my head.  “No, I’m clean as a whistle.”   I put the bottle to my mouth. It’s a good way of giving yourself a few more seconds to think, when you’re lying.

“It’s very important that you don’t get involved with other things.”   He was looking intensely into our eyes,   “We have to get on with our job, we have to go quietly about, and we have to be invisible.”   He was laying down the ground rules.

“We have to look very carefully.  It’s a big job, and if we are not careful,” he drew his hand under his throat. We both lifted our beers and looked as solemn as possible.

Jonas carried on laying down the rules and we nodded to show we understood. After repeating the instructions a few times, he was happy and we left.

The door slammed behind us, we said nothing until we were out of earshot.

“Ve haft to be carefool.”   Johnny mimicked Jonas, they must have heard us laughing all over the flats.

On the way back, Johnny was ready for more beer, but I was running out of steam and I wanted to talk to Simon.

“I could meet you in a couple of hours?”  He gave me a wink,   “Okay, I’ll see you.”   Johnny carried on to the club. I made my way back to No.37.

As soon as I got in, I put the kettle on, and then went into the bedroom to the phone.

“Get me Simon please.”   I could hear the sounds of a busy office.

Simon sounded as though he had just got up.  I heard him ask for a coffee. 

“What’s happening?”   Simon was starting to focus.

“I’ve met him.”   I was so excited, I forgot names.

“Who?”  He was getting annoyed, and I didn’t blame him, it was a shit way of getting your message across.

“Remember the Hunter. Well he’s the sniper.”    I let this sink in.

Simon was really waking up now.   “So do you think he could be One Shot Willy?”

“Yes I do.”   I was elated, but tried to hide it from my voice. We were both silent for a while, both enjoying the possible glory. This was like winning the pools, marrying Miss World and becoming Mr. Universe all in one go. We both came down to the ground at the same time.

“It will get dangerous,” Simon said seriously.

“I know.”

“Tell me every thing.”   Simon was settling in for a long chin wag.

“Well I think he’s from some sort of Iron Curtain country, and he’s only here for the money, and he’s mad about security. The more I think about his accent, the more confused I get.”    Simon was listening, but I could tell he was also signalling for someone to listen in. I knew it, but it didn’t bother me.

“Did he tell you his name?”   Simon wanted to build a picture of him.

“Jonas, but he didn’t tell me his surname.”   I gave a quick description of the man, and the address, where we had met him.

“What are your plans?”   It was his way of letting me know I was in charge, to a certain point.

“Well, I’m going back to the club in about an hour, meeting up with Johnny and then I’ll just go with the flow.”   I didn’t ask for approval, but I wanted it.

“Yes, just see how things go.”   Simon was encouraging, “but at anytime you feel you need to pull out,” a pause from him, “just say the word.”

I was feeling a bit weary, I wanted to rest. From now on, I needed to be alert.

“We’re meeting Jonas tomorrow at nine, he wants to train us in his ways.”

“Ok, get a rest, then keep me informed. I want you to report in tonight.” 

After I’d hung up, Simon strode down the corridor and knocked on the door.

“Come.”   Simon opened the door and entered.

“Sir, I think you should know what’s happening,”   Simon said to Major Ellis, who lent back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.

“Its Deery sir, he’s been recruited into an active unit, but he thinks he’s working with One Shot Willy.”   Simon waited while Ellis thought about this.

“How sure is he?”   Ellis leaned forward.

“Well he’s not sure at the moment, this only started today, but he does think the man is from Eastern Europe. They will be working as a three man squad. He’s under orders not to get involved with any normal street activities, and he was ordered to finish his job on the buses. I sanctioned this.”   Simon waited for more questions.

“Well, we’ll see what happens. Could you put it all in a written report and keep me informed.”   Ellis had work to do, so Simon left. He had things to do as well.

Ellis filled in his weekly report which would go directly to William Whitelaw’s desk. It would inform him, that they had six men now directly in active cells for both sides, stretching from Londonderry in the north, to Newry in the south.  As well, there were over fifty men in civilian locations, bringing in intelligence with no local RUC bias. He leaned back in his chair feeling pretty pleased with himself.

Meanwhile, Simon logged his report and put it in his out tray. He then ordered a vehicle to pick him up in thirty minutes outside the office.

“No, I don’t want to go in an unmarked car, I would prefer a Pig if not, a Land Rover.”   Simon dashed off to get a shower. Twenty five minutes later, he was climbing into a Land Rover with two escorts on the back, riding shotgun.

“Take me to City Barracks.”   These buildings were on the opposite side of a main junction to Divis flats, and sounded a lot more impressive than they were. In reality they were no more than a disused yard, which had been commandeered early in the troubles. There was a tunnel entrance, a high wall of brick with a higher fence covered with hessian and corrugated iron. The latter, stopped the yard from being over looked by the nearby high flats. Even this was not very effective, and staying out of sight, was one of the preoccupations of everyone who walked across the yard. There was the normal line up of Pigs and Land Rovers parked in the yard. Most of the outbuildings were used as barracks, stores and cookhouses. The main offices were in effect the outer walls and had to have steel covers on the windows, as pot shots at the barracks, were a daily occurrence. They were an easy target, with a multitude of escape routes. People based here, were living on the edge. Simon, wearing his combat uniform instead of jeans and shirt, which had become his normal day wear, made his way to the OP’s room.

“Good morning Sir.”   Simon saluted as he entered a small room, which was just a boarded off alcove, with a makeshift door. Every spare part of the wall was covered with maps, lists of units and call signs. Major Blyth greeted him.  He was in the last years of his career, having worked his way through the ranks over a period of thirty years. He was well over pension age, but was building on it every year.

“Good morning, sit down.”   He pointed to a chair which had a jacket on the back and a pair of boots on its seat, Simon put the boots on the floor and settled in.   “I’ve come to let you know what’s happening over the road.”   Simon then informed Blyth about the sniper, and how I would probably be working from the area, and that I might need help at short notice. Blyth sat making notes and after Simon had finished, assured him that he would let the OP’s room know.