decided now to go on the course to France – at least I hope to go.
I heard someone shouting in language which wasn’t actually very refined – and I knew soldiers were in the area. Looked out and they were being stoned out in Fruithill Park. Fired one rubber bullet and went off. I got my new insurance card today although I’m not even working – however, I keep hoping. Big search down the Falls today – found nothing.
Thurs, Jan 20
Slept in this morning. I couldn’t be bothered getting up, it was freezing and very icy. We had a Lower Sixth concert today at lunchtime. A few girls performed, and the grand finale was when Mr Garvey, our Science teacher, sang his own composition about the escape of the 7 men from the Maidstone. Many people say that the actual number of escapees was 16. Supposed to have been an attempted break-out from Long Kesh but papers say it was no more than army propaganda stunt.
The soldiers were in the street again tonight. Up and down on foot, and then called in to McGlade’s to ask if it would be ok to have a bottle of beer – on duty, too!
Hope for snow, to brighten the place up.
The dramatic escape from HMS Maidstone – the prison ship moored in Belfast Lough to house internees – was the sort of exploit we only saw on the silver screen. The daring, night-time swim to freedom through the icy waters caused a sensation and was celebrated by nationalists across Belfast and beyond. I cut the escaped prisoners’ photographs out of The Irish News – along with articles and a cartoon celebrating their breakout – and pasted them into my scrapbook. Nobody I knew wanted the men to be recaptured.
For a brief shining moment, the escapade elevated our messy conflict to the stuff of films and provided some respite from the dreary, grey monotony of that energy-sapping January. Day after day I switched on the lamp on the locker beside my bed and pulled back the curtains on yet another cold, misty morning. It was black dark when I got up at eight o’clock and the nights were already closing in by the time I returned home from school. The hours in between dragged by.
A surprise bouquet of flowers would certainly have brightened my mother’s day but it wasn’t to be. Her oldest sister Kathleen, who lived in Sligo and whom we seldom saw any more, arranged for some flowers to be sent with love, for no particular reason other than as a surprise, but a riot, hijacking or some sort of disorder obstructed their planned delivery.
Meanwhile Agnes, who lived in a religiously ‘mixed’ area, was grieving over the break-up of her new romance with, what was for us, the rarest of creatures – a Protestant boyfriend. Their relationship ended abruptly when members of his own community threatened him for dating a Catholic. I never got to meet him.
A loving, sisterly gesture and a teenage romance between a Catholic and a Protestant: both thwarted. Given the extraordinary circumstances in which we were living, there was nothing remarkable about either of these happenings, despite how much they were to be regretted.
Fri, Jan 21
Went to school as usual, not a bad day. There was a ‘fashion show’ at lunchtime, given by the Form 4s for the Fancy Fair.
Big explosion at Workman’s on Springfield Road, 18-year-old soldier killed on Border. Soldiers were out in the street again tonight, sat there for more than 2 hours. Apparently, they had broken in to the White Fort Inn, wrecked it and arrested 9 men. Shooting and whistle-blowing all night.
Stayed with Suzette tonight – soldiers were going up and down all night and I began to get jittery ... It’s away after 1 o’clock at the moment and I am dying with sleep.
Sat, Jan 22
Decided to go to Derriaghy but the car refused to start, so we spent the afternoon pushing it up and down the street in the pouring rain and we were the centre of everyone’s attention. The 2 big anti-internment marches at Magilligan and Armagh went off quieter than expected, although there was rioting at Magilligan.
Brilliant pictures of army brutality on TV. There’s to be an investigation into the picture where soldier kicked a man – lying on the sand – in stomach.
Sun, Jan 23
The seven men who escaped from the Maidstone only crossed into the Republic last night. 2 more anti-internment marches today – minor trouble after both.
I spent the evening at what was supposed to be studying but I simply wasted my time doing I don’t know what and I’m no further on with my revision. Soldiers up snooping around Fruithill again tonight.
I’m just after applying to Stewarts Supermarket at Derriaghy for a job on Saturdays so must keep my fingers crossed from now on.
Mon Jan 24
We all slept in so I decided only to go to school for half a day. By the time 12.00 came, I decided to stay off full day!
Spent the afternoon supposed to be studying but I got none at all done, simply wasted my time.
Today, I’m wearing the jeans which I dyed blue yesterday with my shortie jumper and, for once, I feel that I look well. The only snag is there’s no one here to see me!
The 7 men who escaped from the Maidstone are in Dublin today and gave a press conference – all very amusing.
I can’t think of anything else to write tonight, (3 explosions today, no one seriously injured) – just shows what a boring day it has been.
I’m really fed up at the moment and wish something big would hurry up and happen soon.
I longed for a fall of the thick, white snow which the weather forecasters were predicting, to dispel the dinginess of our cityscape and relieve the tension and tedium of our existence. But despite the chill wind and the plummeting temperatures, the grey laden skies obstinately refused to yield.
The violence and disorder continued unabated. Around a dozen people were shot dead or killed by explosions in the first few weeks of the year; anti-internment protestors persisted in defying the government ban on marches and parades, and clashed violently with the police and soldiers, while the security forces continued to hunt for the elusive Maidstone escapees.
The tense, turbulent and brutal way of life to which my friends and I were becoming accustomed distinguished our existence from that of 16-year-old girls in every other city in Britain and Ireland. The growing threat from the IRA, and the security measures brought in to counteract it, paralysed our movements. There was more upheaval and unrest in my home town than in any other European city at that time, yet I complained that my existence was ‘boring’ and wished that ‘something big would hurry up and happen soon’.
Tues, Jan 25
Back to school and I don’t seem to have missed very much. Ma Murphy had been over to complain about John and Aidan talking to ‘bad boys’ who stone the army etc., because soldiers were up the street.
Mammy and Daddy went down to Granny’s. When Mammy came home she began discussing France and where I’d get work. She said she would make sure I got there and she would give me money. I felt like hugging her.
Mrs Gordon came up and told me she’d enquired about jobs in the Bank Buildings – I have to go down on Saturday. Went to bed in high spirits, thankful to be alive!
Wed, Jan 26
Usual drag at school. Afterwards, I went up to the library and wasn’t what you would call in the best of form getting home. I hardly spoke all evening except to give off about not getting out at night. Selfish.