A Tough Year
 Belfast 1972
John Bradley 23rd Engineer Regiment

We called it the 'tour of double duty' the day we arrived as the advance party. We knew we were in trouble when asked to travel with a search team that had found some old WW1 grenades under some floor boards and wanted help disposing of them. We stayed at various places from a school, a church, the Short Strand Bus Depot and Mount Pottinger Police Station, which was our HQ. The best accommodation was the triple bunks of good old HMS Maidstone docked in Belfast harbor. They removed the internees and put our troop in their place for the last 2 months of our stay; must admit the navy cooks were brilliant.

1972 was a tough year and I think the most bloodiest of the conflict. We had several bombs to contend with and dozens of shootings but we only lost one man in 7 months. Not bad for a bunch of 'engineers' playing soldier, as we were known. Our only loss was a fine chap named Banks, a staff sergeant with 16 Sqn, while out on the final patrol cleaning the streets up at 23.45 hrs just before a so called ceasefire deadline. His job was to make sure all patrols were off the street and got topped himself! I was in the Short Strand Bus Depot at the time and had just been pulled in with some chaps from another regiment who had been caught on the wrong side of town. There were about 150 of us in that bus garage when a single shot rang out; you could have heard a pin drop. The buzz on the radio started and then we heard that Banks had got hit and it was bad! The tension was unbearable and many, many lads wanted to get back out into the streets to exact revenge. We got dressed down by our RSM, Mick Turner. He made us all strip off our flack jackets and helmets as a sign of good faith and held us all in that depot until daylight before being allowed back to our bunks on Maidstone. Needless to say the political side of things were deemed more important than Malcome Banks life.

Another more memorable night was when I was out on patrol with the RSM and I spotted a guy on the most wanted list by the name a Sean Flynn going into a pub called the Britannia Bar (since blown up). Some brigadier gave me a pat on the back for that when we got back to Osnabruck. I got some laurel leaf for my GSM, but didn't think much of it at the time and it was kind of fun. It was always fun being out with 'Mick the Nick', as we called him. Mick Turner was our RSM and he was of Irish decent but hated the' Micks'. He would get a couple of we poor lads at night to go with him into the back alleys and wait for curfew dodgers. Most of these were just screwing other guy's wives but we arrested them anyway; lots of night patrol fun.

No-Go areas, and the night that they started was without a doubt the most hectic of the tour, as tartan gangs and civilians on both sides started to riot and turn over cars, lorries, milk carts, and rubbish trucks - you name it. They used them to block off streets, and we were ordered to stop any activity on a main road (I don't remember the name of) but Colonel Cholerton himself gave us the order to make sure nobody blocks this street! So Cpl. Taff Phillips took charge and when a group of rioters took a rubbish truck and started driving down our road he ordered me to stop it and seize it before they could tip it over. From about 50 yards away Taff and Sammy Salmon fired their rubber bullets at about 100 teenagers, and there I was with SLR and all the gear hanging off charging down the street towards those kids. To my surprise they started running away! It was like a scene out of 'Star Wars' when Han Solo chased the storm troopers until they realized that he was all alone. I was 50 yards down the street, screaming my head off, when the mob turned towards me and started back in my direction. Without even thinking I jumped into the rubbish truck front seat, there was a red light on the dash and I pushed the button - screw me if the engine didn't start in gear no less. Shocked, I grabbed the steering wheel and wrenched on it to drive the truck out of harm's way with bricks and bottles flying all over the place. I drove it off down the street and Taff and Sammy hung onto the sides with over 100 angry kids chasing us. It was a blast I can tell you. We pulled up and about faced, got out every rubber bullet we could muster, called for support on the radio and started to blast away. Fortunately, we had some 'penny assisted bullets' and that seemed to do the trick although we didn't like using them on the Protestant 'Micks'. Colonel Cholerton came to the scene and thanked us and told us to give the truck back to the city blokes. Can you believe it? After all that we handed over the truck and they gave it right back to the frickin kids! I was pissed off for days over that.

John Bradley

"It's better to burn out than fade away"