Bullets, Bombs and Cups of Tea: Further Voices of the British Army in Northern Ireland 1969-98

Bullets, Bombs and Cups of Tea: Further Voices of the British Army in Northern Ireland 1969-98

Language: English

Pages: 536

ISBN: 1907677062

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


This is Ken Wharton's second oral history of the Northern Ireland troubles told again from the perspective of the ordinary British soldier. This book looks deeper into the conflict, utilizing stories from new contributors providing revealing and long-forgotten stories of the troubles from the back streets of the Ardoyne to the bandit country of South Armagh. Ken Wharton - himself a former soldier - is now known and trusted by those who served and they are keen for their part in Britain's forgotten war to now be made public. For the first time, he tells the stories of the 'unseen victims' - the loved ones who sat and dreaded a knock at the door from the Army telling them that their loved one had been killed on the streets of Northern Ireland.

There are more first hand accounts from the Rifleman, the Private, the Guardsman, the Driver, the Sapper, the Fusilier on the street as they recall the violence, the insults and the shock of seeing a comrade dying in the street in front of them. There is an explosive interview with a soldier who killed an IRA gunman who was fresh from the murder of two Royal Artillerymen.

Building on the huge success of Ken's first book, this second volume will provide plenty of new material for the reader to reconsider afresh the role of Britain's soldiers in Northern Ireland.

The Oklahoma City Bombing and the Politics of Terror

The Dark Side: The Inside Story of How The War on Terror Turned into a War on American Ideals

Cyberterrorism: Understanding, Assessment, and Response

Politika (Tom Clancy's Power Plays, Book 1)

Le Prince vert : du Hamas aux services secrets israƩliens

Munich 1972: Tragedy, Terror, and Triumph at the Olympic Games

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were an implacable, increasingly professional, terrorist organisation, backed in the main by the Irish-Americans and they were very good at doing what they did best; killing us. They had no qualms, no consciences and they thought that a pious apology after an innocent civilian had been caught in the crossfire would suffice. They were a very difficult enemy to take on and overcome because they didn't care who got in the way. Make no mistake; they were amongst the most difficult foe that the

time has erased the exact dates from my mind, but I'm almost certain it was 1978. For some reason or other I think it was a Saturday, because when we arrived, there was a large number of people gathered around the cordon of Land rovers, barriers and tape. The day had started as any other day and, as always, we were going to be busy. At that time we were working up to 120 hours per week; one minute everything would be quiet, and then out of the blue we'd be whisked off to wherever we were needed.

soil. It was close to home and the environment in which British soldiers fought was the same as that of their homes, whatever social class they belonged to. It was not a jungle, or a desert and it wasn't a mud-filled trench in which their soldier loved ones fought; it was in streets and cities and towns and villages and in the green fields of Northern Ireland that they tried to emulate their fathers and grandfathers and even their great grandfathers of several earlier wars. But, whether they

designed to protect the face down to a point below the chin but, because of the design of the sights on the baton gun, one couldn't aim the gun properly with the visor fully down. As a result the baton gunners used to take a chance and half raised the visor, allowing them to aim the weapon properly. While this still protected the front of the face it exposed the sides of the jaw to attack. This I now did, raising the visor to an angle of about 45 degrees and bringing the gun up into the aim. I

end by an MP's mobile patrol. Sadly for Keith, they were driving a Makralon armoured vehicle. They were apparently involved in a hot pursuit before it hit Keith's landrover. Keith and Ian Mitchell were catapulted right out of the rear end by the impact and poor Keith's body was smashed at full force onto a set of iron railings surrounding a monument in a central island in the road As our time to depart came, we left Belfast and 49 Field Regt RA took over from us. We were all hoping and praying

Download sample

Download

About admin