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Effective today, the contact details for the Northern Ireland Veterans' Association have changed to the following

The Secretary
57 Mortimer Street,
Derby.

DE24 8FX

Email: membership@nivets.org.uk
Web: www.nivets.org.uk
Mob: 07368 293729

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The Droppin Well bombing. December 6, 1982,

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  • #31
    Good for you Taffy; good for you. You've made another important step on your own journey, may there be many more.

    Salut, to yourself and all those on similar journeys - and to those like Sarah who make those journeys with us.

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    • #32
      Yeah - good for you mate, a step well worth taking on the road to some form of sanity. Speaking from experience visiting the site of your demons does help some people, I did it and it helped me, especially with the support of loved ones.

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      • #33
        RMEMBER THE FALLEN AT BK 6/12/1982

        FOR THREE YEARS I TRAVELLED PASSED THE GARDEN OF REMEBERANCE LOCATED OUTSIDE THE X-KEYS CLUB ON MY WAY TO WORK AT HANGER SIX. IT GAVE ME THE REASON TO WORK TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY IN SUPPORT OF OPERATION BANNER AND IN TRIBUTE TO THE FALLEN.

        COOPERMAN EX 655 SQN AAC.

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        • #34
          Taffy...

          Well done....On all counts.

          I have spoken to Taffy in the past. I was involved that night/next day as a VERY young (18) RMA from the Poachers, not long out of the RMA trg with the Greenjacket Band members who were killed on the Regents Park Bandstand. I was involved with the Casevac, and of course the DJ was a Poacher.

          I wanted to go, but several things held me back. One, I felt a bit of a fraud (Taffy has since corrected me!) and two...I was informed that I would be out of the country in the Afghan...(Hmm...Hurry up and wait...No flight details as yet!).

          This was something that I wanted to attend (and may well do next year...Subject to any further far flung postings...), and I'm really glad that a member of our community did. He stood there for us all, and his own unique bravery that night and indeed over that weekend is a testament to him.

          Well done that man.

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          • #35
            well done

            Well done mate, I wrote the story of the bombing I was caught in and sent it to Skydiver who assures me it will be in book 3, Bloody Belfast , writing it left me a wreck, I had to do it in one go as I knew if I stopped i would not continue, but I did it, as for going back, one day mate, one day.
            Spanners do it with their tools.

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            • #36
              Thanks guys. It is something that had to be done as it was the right time for me to do it. Spanner, likewise i did that for his first book, the ist time I had written anything down on paper about it but like you it had to be done in one go, took me several weeks to get over it.

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              • #37
                Thursday 6th December 1982

                This is a poem I wrote the first two paragrafs on the 7th December and the rest after I got there on the 10th December. on the

                Rest in peace all the friends I never met till next time.
                Rest in peace the girl I knew,so sad I never got to say goodbye,
                Why I wasn't there to see you, my plane it left well before time,
                When I heard, so sad, so bad, a man I cried and cried.

                I couldn't go, they stopped me, they forced me,
                You a corporal, a serving soldier, you cant go there now,
                They gave me pills so I cannot flee,
                To no avail, I left, a train, a plane I go there now.

                When at last her dad I met, the tears, the sadness clear
                Why wasn't I there to comfort and with her join
                On the journey that's far from here,
                I told him, she's waiting with god for both of us to join....

                Why cant I join you now, in heaven my dear,
                The pills, they help no more the pain to great,
                because the shots, I killed, what i did so bad the fear,
                A soldiers lot, I may never join you, i'll go to hell.

                So sleep my dear, my freinds I never met
                that went with you that awful painful night,
                will treat you nice, will treat you well.
                For they are in heaven and not in my hell.

                Mark S********** December 1982

                This is a poem I wrote to my freind and I have carried it ever since, I suffered PTSD, ive had a stroke and still I remember her and the freinds I never met from that night. Those who says memories fade with time, that is rubbish, I still remember every single thing from that time, I spent thousands of my own money truing to forge tit but I still cant, or rather wont forget.
                Thank god for this forum, to remind us all of how important these memories are.

                God rest their souls
                and may god look down on all of my borthers an dsisters

                Comment


                • #38
                  Thanks for sharing that with us Syd.
                  I realise it couldn't have been easy, but if it's any small consolation to you ... now that this poem is out we can all ensure that it tells that story so that the world will never forget the evil that was bestowed upon man by so-called fellow human beings

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                  • #39
                    For those that haven't seen this, it may help:

                    "A Long Weekend in Belfast – 2007

                    Here are some personal thoughts from the above which might be of interest.

                    I’ve been meaning to return for some time now and spend a bit of time walking around the place and visiting some old haunts as well as look up some friends so with the aid of eBay I fixed up a 4 star hotel 2 nights bed & breakfast and a cheap flight for me and t’Chicken. She’d heard that much about the place and the people from me and others from the site that she was looking forward to holding my hand, the things some people do for a cheap weekend away. Flew into the City airport Friday dinnertime and what a civilised airport it is after suffering Manchester in recent years. Taxi into town, quick wash and off on foot to Castlecourt for summat to eat. Now Castlecourt for the uninitiated is where the Gunner’s Gin Palace used to be, aka the Grand Central Hotel on Royal Avenue which was past its sell by date when we were there in 74/75. Amazingly the credit card escaped unharmed so we went for a wander around the former segment areas of the centre on a guided walking tour. Now I know this sounds corny but it was really interesting and we went to places I’d either forgotten about or didn’t even know were there. We hung back a bit so I could give an ex-squaddie slant to the commentary such as, “that’s the card shop that blew up 2 minutes after we’d evacuated it” and “that’s where Helen was stood in the picture” etc. Anyway, we went down this alley whose name sounded familiar and came out at this bar called the Duke of York. While everyone else was admiring the architecture and the fittings etc, we were eyeing up the bar pumps and then I remembered, ah yes, this is where good old Gerry used to work behind the bar and do his plotting, never knew that was there… If anyone gets the chance, it’s a tour worth doing, even in the rain which took me back a few years as well. Amazed at the amount of redevelopment that’s going on. Walked back to the hotel, (via another pub where we were entertained by two blokes that you would avoid if you saw them in the street but were great company), which is on the site of the old gasworks which is now an upmarket business park sandwiched as it is between the two nationalist areas of the Markets and the Lower Ormeau Road resplendent with tricolours and Celtic flags and the odd bit of graffiti slagging off the PSNI and Gerry for selling out… Didn’t actually venture inside the back streets just yet but the place also looked as if it had enjoyed recent redevelopment as it appeared quite respectable from St George’s Market. On the Friday evening we enjoyed a meal with two friends that came to meet us in an area they’d never been to and very enjoyable it was too.

                    On the Saturday morning we were booked on to an open topped bus tour around the city taking in Harland & Wolf, Stormont, the city centre past Divis Tower up the Falls and back down the Shankhill towards the University area and back along Great Victoria Street and again, it’s a tour well worth doing, it’s not that the places are unrecognisable but there has been one ‘eck of an investment gone in to the city over the last 30 years, especially the residential areas we came to love and know so well. The street signs were eerily familiar, now in Gaelic in the nationalist areas, and sent a shiver down the spine even though I didn’t even serve on the Falls. The Shankhill was busy with people in their marching band uniforms celebrating something I didn’t catch the name of and they’d already starting building the bonfires up again? I have to say that maybe next time I’ll actually get off the bus and take some pictures of the murals as I don’t yet trust myself in some areas despite the tour guide’s excellent and quite hilarious commentary and reassurances. Highly recommended for tourists and locals alike. For dinner we had a sarnie and a couple of Guinness’s in the Duke of York which was very friendly and welcoming with people wanting to talk and get to know you in a totally unthreatening and unobtrusive way wanting to know how you found the place. All we said was that we were on a city weekend break, (which was 99% true) and no-one wanted to know any more concentrating on having a good laugh. The afternoon was spent on the river which was slightly disappointing as there’s little left of the industry and the guide makes do with old pictures of the Titanic etc. The commentary was again excellent though. Saturday evening was spent in the company of some more friends where we had a meal in Carrickfergus.

                    Now, Sunday morning, I left the better half snoring in bed and went for a run, heading off down the Lagan bank path and past the Lower Ormeau area where again the district was getting spruced up with whole streets having been demolished and murals presumably destroyed or painted over, the tricolours were flying though leaving you in no doubt where you were. Various walkers and other runners nodded and exchanged greetings so I about turned and went through the once hostile and unforgiving back streets where again, all I received was smiles and hello’s. Suitably encouraged I cut through the Markets seeking out two particular spots which were difficult to find as that area had been redeveloped as well. Part of it was still a slum but that has to be the people, not the buildings provided which were covered in graffiti and strewn with rubbish, but no-one batted an eyelid at this strange sight running around their back yard. An hour later and after a shower and dinner we walked back into the centre and enjoyed a few more pints of the black stuff at another bar near Customs House and were treated as one of the family. Now full of the proverbial Dutch courage it was time to pay my respects and visit the place a friend lost his life 30 years ago. Walking straight through the back streets, camera in one hand and t’Chicken in the other, with a heavy heart and close to tears, I whispered and pointed out the spot he fell and where he was shot from and we stood in silent tribute in the late morning sunshine, a mere 400 or so yards from where we were staying. A totally surreal moment that will never leave me, traffic noise from nearby Cromac Street and Central Station seemed to stop and time stood still, a momentary pause and shiver of the spine, then a squeeze of the hand and back to the hotel in silence as she left me with my private thoughts to collect the bags, homage paid and job done.

                    Impressions? Still a lovely place with lovely people and still as confusing how hate can overcome humanity but as the tour guide said, hopefully those terrible days have gone never to return and Belfast can bloom and blossom like never before and, needless to say, I hope it does. A lot of the back to back terraces and slum estates and killing grounds have long gone and not before time to be replaced by modern housing. Some of the inter-community initiatives we heard about will take a long time to bear fruit but inevitably will, at least that’s what my heart tells me, only time will tell. The guides pulled no punches and some people on the bus were aghast at the tales and amazed at how close the communities actually lived together, t’Chicken certainly was, especially when she saw the interface areas at first hand and close up. But as someone said, it can only get better now, and someone help us all if the politicians and the people let it go ape again. I don’t think I’m particularly naïve but surely it can’t happen again can it? Me? Mixed emotions to say the least, did the job I went for and feel heaps better for it. A deep wound is well on the way to recovery and for that I would thank all who have helped on here, “over there” and particularly the Chicken who I think now appreciates a little better why I can be a grumpy old git but, as she does, she looks on the bright side, onwards and upwards and she certainly enjoyed the renowned craic and would go back anytime, same as me but I’m now coming to terms slowly with a past and a heart a little less heavy than before.

                    So, this worked for me but I fully appreciate why others will never be able to travel a similar road, but if you can, I would recommend it as a way of, I don’t know, perhaps getting on with life? I apologise for the clumsy words but others might be able to articulate better what I’m feeling, I think the nearest modern phrase is “closure”, although that will never happen, it does come close and if anything I’ve said helps anyone else, great, if it’s offended anyone I apologise but that’s how I feel, and this trip was about me. Thanks for reading."

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                    • #40
                      Wow

                      Thanks for sharing that in vivid detail mate - I think there's something in me eyes!

                      The courage to do that may not be easily found, but with the support you had you couldn't fail.

                      Thanks again.
                      Andy
                      If Harry Black can't fix it . . . . . its fcuked

                      And he can't fix me

                      Comment


                      • #41
                        As always, it goes without saying ... if ANYONE is planning on coming over and you want/need a hand with anything, just ask. I'll be more than happy to help out if/where possible. I can't do miracles, but I can be a friendly presence in what might be a land of terrible memories for some if required.

                        I read that before Onion, but I never get tired of reading it again. Like you said, your visit was about YOU, and if it was a positive trip for you and you got to do what you wanted to do and achieved what you came for, then that can only be good and beneficial for you and those you share your life with.

                        I know what it meant to you and I'm glad you did it

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                        • #42
                          Onion, you don't need anyone to articulate for you ... moving words indeed
                          Take off is optional, landing is mandatory.

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                          • #43
                            I was very lucky on this day me and my mate 1 staffords attached to 1 cheshire had just left after having a pint with Dave murray Muz,we never seen him again,and Terry aswell. Bless them all RIP muz my friend.

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                            • #44
                              I am flying to Derry tomorrow to attend the 28th Anniversary Memorial service of the Droppinwell pub bombing on Sunday ...RIP to the 11 soldiers and 6 civilians killed.

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                              • #45
                                God speed Mary. Say a few words on our behalf please. Tell them they are never forgotten.o7
                                You cannot fight a war with one hand tied behind your back.

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