A Scottish Soldier Page 2
Ordinary soldiers were not responsible for these colonial conflicts, but did have to serve in them. The military was then made up of regulars and others on National Service (which ended in 1963) and most obeyed their orders and carried out what they saw as their duty. Some, carried away on a tide of indoctrination and jingoism, believed passionately in what they were doing.
In 1977, a disabled Scottish ex-soldier, who signed on as regular soldier just after the end of WW2, wrote about his experiences in some of these small wars. While Andy Stewart had given us a sanitised patriotic version of the ‘Scottish soldier’, this veteran gave us a realistic vision of what service life was really like in the British Army:
“It is getting along to 30 years since I first signed on as a regular. I was out of work, and in trouble with the police. The army was much bigger in those days. Once in it I was convinced there was no way they would get me back to the slums of Glasgow. My own bed and locker. Good clean clothes. Plenty of good grub. Great comradeship from the men in my billet. What more could a young man ask? I had known poverty and hunger all my boyhood days. The army was a great life for me. It is hard for young working-class men to realise the attractions of such a life, unless they have known similar poverty and hunger.
In those days the army fought ‘the dirty commies’. We shot ‘the yellow slant-eyed bastards’ in the hills of Korea, chasing him back to the Yalu River, where ‘some bastard politician’ stopped us from going over and finishing them off for good. We went into the jungles of Malaya, and ‘routed them out’. It cut us to the quick to see ‘that evil bastard’ Chin Peng get all that cash for surrendering. He and his will-o’-the-wisps had given us a lot of trouble and sweat. Now the government was giving him a load of cash. It was crazy. If they’d turned him over to us we would have chopped him up into little cubes and fed him to the dogs that ran around in packs in Kuala Lumpur.
Out in Kenya we hated that ‘black cannibal’ Jomo Kenyatta. The officer from Intelligence who gave us our political lectures (did you know they gave such things in the British army?) told us Jomo wrote for the Commie paper, the ‘Daily Worker’. If we’d caught him in the forests of the Aberdares we would have chopped him up with blunt pangas.
In Cyprus we fought that ‘little murdering bastard’ Grivas. It was strange how nobody would turn the ‘little wall-eyed bastard’ in. It did not matter how much we kicked and beat them. The Greek Cypriots would never divulge his hiding place.
Came the day when I copped a packet. It was not pleasant. They took me on a stretcher, all strapped down, and flew me back for medical attention. I was paralysed from the waist down. Every jolt I got caused racking pains to tear through my body. Lying beside me on the plane was a young Scottish lad. He came from my native city of Glasgow. I guess they put him beside me because I spoke ‘Glasca’ like him. Maybe they thought the sound of his native accent would quieten him down. He was as mad as the proverbial mad hatter. When he looked at me out of his mad eyes, I felt myself shrink back in fear. After all, I was only an arm’s length away from him, and partially paralysed.
In different hospitals in various countries, experts prodded and poked me. They caused me a lot of pain. But months later I was still affected with terrific pain if I got any sudden movements. I went back to civvy street like an old man - shuffle-shuffle. It was in the Union Jack Club opposite Waterloo Station that my position was brought home to me. A young soldier like myself was lying dead drunk. His documents had fallen out of his jacket. I saw he had been in places out East that I had just been in. He was discharged just like me. But he could get no work.
I felt a wave of despair wash over me. How could I survive? Back in Glasgow I went to sign on at the Labour Exchange. They had no work for ex-killers. ‘So what if you do have ribbons from half a dozen campaigns? We need men who can work all day and every day. You can hardly walk!’ These clerks were all throw-backs to the means test days. They could not even manage a look of pity for a young man with a pale face, all complete with dark rings under the eyes for added effect.
How I hated mankind. Here I was, reduced from being a hard soldier, six feet tall, twelve and a half stone in weight, down to nine stone something. Yet nobody gave a dam about it. Even the ex-Regulars Association would not attempt to find me a job. The fat bastard ex-sergeant major had just the job I could have done. Nobody would help me. I would have to look out for myself.
I made it. No thanks to the bastards who run the country. They took my youth and young manhood. Today I still suffer pain. But my muscles have toughened a lot. As of now, they are able to bear me up. But what will happen when I get old and they become less strong? I just don’t fancy the idea of sitting out the remainder of my days in some establishment for infirm soldiers, raving about the days when we were young.
Oh! I forgot to tell you. I could not find a wife. You see, I am rendered impotent. Yip Ming was my last bed-mate. She was a Chinese prostitute I lived with, out in the Far East. She bore me two sons. But I could not marry her. The army would not permit it. She went back to China and I have lost touch with her. My sons will be in their twenties now. Probably they read the thoughts of Chairman Mao and curse their white-skinned father.”
[Socialist Worker, 12th Nov. 1977].
The Lament of Widows
In 1881, under the Childers Reforms, a new Highland regiment was created by amalgamating the 91st (Argyllshire Highlanders) Regiment of foot and the 93rd (Sutherland Highlanders) Regiment of foot. The men of the 93rd had been acclaimed as ‘the thin red line’ in the Crimean War. The new amalgamated regiment, called the (Princess Louise’s) Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, was to forge a reputation as ‘glorious’ and ‘honourable’ as any in the British Army - fighting with the Highland Brigade in the Boer War, won six Victoria Crosses in the First World War, and fought with distinction in the Second World War and Korea.
Most regiments in the British Army, however, have an unspoken ethos of: ‘What happens up the sharp-end – stays up the sharp-end’. This creates a ‘hidden history’ of conflicts, which only emerges in some veteran’s nightmares long after they have ceased serving - and rarely is exposed to outsiders.
In most colonial conflicts the minds of the young soldiers are indoctrinated by briefings, both verbal and written. In the early days of the conflict in Northern Ireland, for example, the Sunday Times Insight Team examined a publication given to soldiers just before a tour of duty:
“The Army rapidly produced a booklet; called ‘Notes on Northern Ireland’, with the praiseworthy aim of giving its men some idea what the trouble was all about. ... The booklet printed in full what purported to be the oath of the IRA’s political wing Sinn Fein. As a case-study in psychosis, it deserves reprinting:
‘I swear by Almighty God ... by the Blessed Virgin Mary ... by her tears and wailings ... by the blessed Rosary and Holy Beads ... to fight until we die, wading in the fields of Red Gore of the Saxon Tyrants and Murderers of the Glorious Cause of Nationality, and if spared, to fight until there is not a single vestige and a space for a footpath left to tell that the Holy Soil of Ireland was trodden on by the Saxon Tyrants and the murderers, and moreover, when the English Protestant Robbers and Beasts in Ireland shall be driven into the sea like the swine that Jesus Christ caused to be drowned, we shall embark for, and take, England, root out every vestige of the accursed Blood of the Heretics, Adulterers and Murderers of Henry VIII and possess ourselves of the treasures of the Beasts that have so long kept our Beloved Isle of Saints ... in bondage ... and we shall not give up the conquest until we have our Holy Father complete ruler of the British Isles ... so help me God.’
The interesting point is that the oath was never taken by members of Sinn Fein. Sinn Fein, indeed, had no oath of any kind. The version the Army got dated from 1918, when it was forged by a group of over-heated Unionists. It has since appeared regularly in Loyalist Ulster news-sheets, most recently in Paisley’s ‘Protestant Telegraph’. It bears exactly the same relation to reality as the Protocols of the Elders of Zion - indeed, in its constant dwelling on blood, it has much in common with the Protocols. As a document, therefore, it tells one nothing about Sinn Fein, though quite a lot about the impulses to violence in Unionism.”
[Ulster, by the Sunday Times Insight Team, Penguin Special 1972].
The question might have been asked: How did this piece of blatant Unionist propaganda find its way into a British Army publication, issued to our young soldiers just before a tour of duty? One can envisage, however, how it would have influenced their outlook and attitudes. And some subsequent events suggested what results such indoctrination can have.
In Northern Ireland in 1972 two Catholic men, 31-year-old Michael Naan and 23-year-old Andrew Murray, had been found murdered at isolated farm buildings in County Fermanagh. Murray had been stabbed 13 times and Naan 19 times through the heart and chest. Michael Naan had been a prominent member of the Civil Rights Association and had taken part in a number of protest marches.
The pathologist said Naan’s wounds were ‘consistent with an attack by someone who had gone berserk.’ The murders had taken place in a mixed border area where tit-for-tat killings occurred and a sectarian motive was attributed to the slayings. Loyalists were suspected of carrying out a crime, which became known as the ‘pitchfork murders’, after the suspected murder weapon.
Back in Britain, later in the 1970s, people were horrified by a series of brutal murders of young women, many picked up from ‘red light’ areas in northern English cities. Reading about the latest ‘Yorkshire Ripper’ murder in 1978 had a profound effect on a Scottish ex-soldier. The lurid accounts of the multiple stabbings of the latest victim had evoked memories of a night, six years before, when he had been on a tour-of-duty in Northern Ireland.
The veteran knew who had really carried out those killings of Naan and Murray in 1972 and the similarity between those and the Yorkshire Ripper murders began to prey on his mind. Convinced that the same people must have carried out both the ‘Ripper’ and the Northern Ireland slayings, he contacted the police and gave them full details of those killings in County Fermanagh.
In reality there was no link between the two crimes, but the police were under intense public pressure to catch the ‘Ripper,’ so, they began to investigate the ex-soldier’s allegations. Subsequently, in 1980, two former compatriots of the ex-soldier, a staff-sergeant and a sergeant, were tried and jailed for life for the murders of Naan and Murray. When the staff-sergeant confessed to the police he broke down in tears and said:
“I did it. I did the killings. Oh my god. Yes, I did it. I killed them. They would not stop screaming – I have been having bloody nightmares about it ...”
A one-year suspended sentence was given to the officer-in-charge, who was described as an ‘exemplary officer’. He had attended Harrow and Sandhurst and came from ‘a distinguished military background’. The officer told the court he’d been in charge, and, although he was not on the patrol himself, he had found out about the killings later. He then admitted why he’d kept quiet:
“I mulled the whole thing over in my mind and decided that for the good of the army and the regiment it must never go any further.”
Another member of the patrol, who was a private at the time of the killings, received a four-year sentence for manslaughter. In 1970 he’d been pictured in some papers being inspected by the Queen, while on Royal Guard duties at Balmoral. It also come out during the trial that the murder weapon was not a pitchfork as first thought, but the stabbings were in fact carried out with a bowie knife that one of the soldiers possessed; it subsequently emerged that many of the troops in Ireland carried ‘personal weapons,’ to which those in authority were turning a blind eye.
This information only saw the light-of-day, because a veteran had the events on his conscience and he’d made the wrong connection to the ‘Ripper’ killings. The story did not end there, however, because the veteran who had revealed the information had received several death threats during the trial, which he believed had come from members of his former unit. So, upset and angry, he handed over to the Scottish ‘Sunday Mail’ paper a dossier containing information on up to forty killings carried out by fellow soldiers in Aden fourteen years previously.
The paper printed many of these in early 1981 and a controversy ensued, with the ‘Sunday Mail’ being inundated with letters. Serving soldiers complained bitterly about ‘former mates telling tales out of school’ and attacked the paper for printing material detrimental to ‘the honour of the regiment’.
Others, mainly ex-soldiers, wrote in telling how the terrible events in Aden had been on their minds. Unable to forget, they welcomed the opportunity to unburden themselves and some wrote of their own experiences, telling how:
The Yellow Card instructions – which laid out the circumstances in which soldiers could open fire – were abused. To detain an Arab, soldiers were taught to shout “waqf” – pronounced as “wakeef” – meaning halt. If three warnings were ignored troops were then entitled to shoot, but some soldiers treated this as a joke and shouted “fuck off” or “corned beef” instead. Not surprisingly, most Arabs did not understand this and several were just gunned down.
The army had set up machine-gun emplacements on high ground overlooking the Crater district and some nights – especially if there had been attacks on soldiers – those heavy guns were fired into this deprived area as a punishment. Ripping through the thin walls, the heavy velocity bullets must have caused untold deaths and destruction.
The bodies of Arabs killed by soldiers were taken in a three-ton truck and dumped off a bridge into the bay, some of the dead were suspects who had been arrested, or wounded Arabs who had been taken to the army medical centre. A soldier who had carried out the “dumping” of the bodies stated: ‘Some of the prisoners’ bodies had gunshot wounds, but some had been given injections’.