WEETON
Going into year 1986, while living in
The work was new to me. It was a case of learning on the job. The effort was
piece-meal, unpressured, spread out over time. There was a hope that one day it
would no longer be necessary and I would happily drop it and carry only its
memory to the future. I fondly believed the authorities would come to accept
the great mistakes made in their judgements of me and correct matters. Little
did I know there were forces at work within and without that would ensure no
such resolve was possible.
Those with God would have nothing to do with the ways of man. There was a duty
to be done and all the manipulation
in the world would not be allowed to transcend or obviate it.
This periodic research was pursued through the year up to my departure from
IRA actions in London in December 1980 and January 1981 had a special interest
because of the people, IRA active service unit, with whom I passaged for part
of the return leg of a train-ferry journey from Coventry to my then west Cork
farm home on the night of 8/9 January 1981.
Where I went and what I did, as much as it could be discerned, was of interest
to the authorities. As it was in
The security services of
By end June 1986 the trials for the 1984 Brighton Grand Hotel bombing, and
cases to do with the 1985 Glasgow IRA arrests, concluded with sentences passed.
My appreciation is that after the Brighton Grand Hotel bombing trial, etc., had
I been submissive to the ways of the security services, a reference to a
particular event, they would have manipulated a favour across my path, a
sweetener to silence. In their world the human dimension is a ball of dough
made to be poked and kneaded into a given shape and direction to achieve a
happy and trouble free acquiescence. In my instance to realise a cessation of
bolshie demands for justice.
I didn't play ball. This was not due to an innate stroppiness but more down to
a gifted incapacity to be manipulated in the fashion so beloved by the security
services. By this failure to accommodate a likely degrading across my path encounter did not take
place. Not then, at least.
One could say that state sided activities were crowded at that time. Due to
their complexity and to avoid confusion, the following is an attempt at a
rational summary. Please remember, this is an outline presentation, much
understanding is witheld.
In the month of August 1986 I put up my Kenilworth house for sale. In the first
full week of advertising the property was purchased by a local family. One is,
however, of the impression that the speedy disposal may not have been
appreciated by a certain state agency charged with security matters who would
have preferred a lengthier preamble to achieving a sale.
More time for assessment. More time to put their manipulative proclivities to
work. Time is flexibility. Time is opportunity. Time was short.
Anything to secure a control situation, an acquiescent doughball, is considered
fair game. An when all else fails what then?
The lived out philosophy of intelligence agencies is that they do not exist,
this despite the consumption of countless millions of exchequer funding
peoples money. To act the farce of non existence they manipulate. It is a cop-out.
A means of deniability if things go wrong.
As they do.That is the reality of allowing undue rein to a lot of low life.
When the citizen is denied redress and there is no accountability not even a
worthless self regulation, an almost inevitable on-the-ground arrogance and
judgemental incompetence will follow in train.
Power, privilege and non-accountability are a bedrock for wrongdoing. They rot
morality. They are a prescription for off-the-record actions.
Who better to carry them out? Who better to cover them up? The Security
Service. While all else in the land observe a deadly silence.
"Ludicrous", isn't it?
On the completion of the sale of my Kenilworth house it was intended that I
should return to Ireland to live. On that intention I remained silent.
The decision to dispose of the property was speedily arrived at. On Tuesday
05.08.86 it was made. Later in the same day an estate agent, already spoken to,
was instructed to put the property on the market.
As earlier stated, a quick full price sale was made.
Wednesday 13.08.86 I post off an Investment Bond Certificate for full
encashment. Three months notice was required.
All this public, and some private, domain activity would become known to the
authorities. One can say that those concerned with security matters had a close
and ongoing interest in developments. It was an interest that was not confined
to Britain. Just in case I should return to Ireland, the engine of
disinformation began to warm up there.
A letter arrived at the address of one of my Coventry based sisters'. It was
for me, from west Cork, and endorsed "urgent". The local franking
says it was posted on the same day as my Kenilworth house was put up for sale.
The letter was in response to one of mine posted just over three years previous the day before I left Coventry to fly to New
Zealand and was not hitherto acknowledged.
The writer of the letter sought to get me involved in a court case which
concerned a party whose facilitation on behalf of state security interests in
west Cork was as especial as it was extended. Events to do with the this party
were not solely confined to assisting national
interests but could be said to have a local
self interest. In this, and in other regards, there was at play at the
best a psychological tack with the aim of rescripting past happenings in west
Cork, the gamesmanship of not being able to see the wood for the trees when
confronted with the reality of the human dimension; or at the worst, an
opportunity for character assassination in a witness box. State interests
employing the psychology of the dustbin to look after its own end?
I do not hold that the letter came over coincidentally. It had the prospect to
unfold a situation with potential for mischief.
As Mr. Justice Boreham remarked at the conclusion of the Thomas Maguire trial:
"The less I say about this, the better."
Friday 22.08.86 When cycling on the A5 road from Nuneaton to
Atherstone in Warwickshire, pedalling close to a thin sliver of land, a narrow island
edging a long lay-by, I stopped my bike at the very end of the island. On doing
so a small van exited from the lay-by at very high speed. Had I kept on cycling
for no more than a few seconds there would have been an impact the car
slamming into me.
Never before or since have I seen a vehicle propel itself from a lay-by at such
speed. It rocketed out. It was a small nondescript off-white van. Whatever its
appearance, the power under the bonnet was decidedly healthy.
The log containing a mention of this has an asterisk that connects to a comment
alongside: "Dirty white van seen outside number 37 Queen's Road
(Kenilworth) installing listening equipment?" (The sighting would seem
to have been made on 04.11.85). "Small white van (also) seen in Q's (28
Queen's Road. Next door to my house) front yard on 14.04.86 and 15.04.86.
Believe the vehicles (seen each day) were different." A similar small
white "tradesman's" van was parked in driveway of number 32 Queen's
Road (next door to my house on other side) at the time of the Brighton Grand
Hotel bombing trial, etc. All the small vans had the same anonymous off-white
colour. The vehicles may have been Ford Motor Company (England) manufacture.
Returning to my bicycle ride along the A5 from Nuneaton to Atherstone in
Warwickshire. When pedalling by the kerbstone edging the narrow island of land
separating the lay-by from the road, I had a dulled pick-up a perception
which observes in an underscored way and responds in slow motion. It is as if
the conscious retreats and sight and feeling become one. A doing what is
necessary when necessary. Not before.
It was felt and noticed that my right trouser leg was working its way out of
the sock which, instead of bicycle clips, enclosed the trouser leg. I absorbed this
but did nothing and continued cycling. The trouser leg was edging further out
of the sock. Something had to be done lest the trouser should come free and
make contact with the oily bicycle chain. It was decided to carry on to the
other side of the lay-by and stop at the kerbside there. In looking ahead I saw
that there was no kerbing at the road edge beyond the lay-by. By then I was at
the end of the kerbstone along the lay-by island. I stopped the bicycle.
It was at the end of the island, the exit point of the lay-by. I placed my left
foot on the kerbstone and began to drop my arms downward to tuck the drifting
right trouser end into the sock. On doing so, to my front, a small van rocketed
out of the lay-by. The vehicle would have impacted with me had the cycling
continued. No heightened feeling was attached to the happening. No
interpretation. Just a subordinate perception which observed, as in absorbing,
the sight of a speeding car in front of me it was a small off-white van.
I cannot say if the van was in the lay-by on my cycling by. At least one
vehicle was parked there. What I do know is that it exited from the lay-by at
an exceedingly fast speed.
Vehicles were passaging by on the other side of the road. The flow was constant
with spacing. There was no vehicle immediately behind me.
After tucking the trouser end into the sock, I continued cycling as if nothing
had happened. While having absorbed in a dulled picture-frame way what had gone
on, no application of mind was given to it. A scant logging of the event wasn't
done until two days later. It required a nudging into the consciousness, a
sometimes difficult process, for that to happen.
Even after the Brighton Grand Hotel bombing trial completion in June 1986 the
round the clock surveillance continued. Each departure from my Kenilworth house
was observed. One could say, though, that it was not as technically heavy as
for the Brighton, etc., trials.
During the Brighton bombing trial fixed surveillance was mainly mounted from
the local HQ at number 37 Queen's
Road. From August, by my judgement, the local HQ had largely moved to number 28 Queen's Road (Q's house). I lived next door, a
detached property, at number 30.
There was alternation in the use of the two houses. Number 37 having a greater
history of use than number 28. There were days when both properties were
employed. At least two other local properties were used to advantage.
Surveillance in August-September 1986 was not as heavy as from April 1986 to
end June 1986. Yet it was heavy. Above the norm.
Whatever the reason, my personal pursuits continued. Things that needed to be
done were done.
Monday 15.09.86 I cycled from Kenilworth to Coventry, having decided
to visit London on a personal quest. Just before arrival in Coventry one of my
tubes punctured. The bicycle was parked with a note of explanation in the
driveway of a house owned by a family lightly known to me. The railway station
was a short walk away, from where I would entrain to London.
My business done in London I retreated to the English midlands.
It is with an easy confidence that I say where I went in London was known and
also where my bicycle was parked in Coventry.
From Coventry I took to walking the punctured bicycle about five miles to
Kenilworth. The route was largely via a main road. To begin with I kept to the
left footpath in line with the flow of traffic. Not far along the main road,
wooded on both sides, when nearing a point where the road would adjunct with a
side artery, I crossed over to the other side. This was done about 150m before
reaching a set of traffic lights.
From the junction where the side road and main road met there was a tail-back
of cars. Say about 60/70m back from the main road, at the kerbside, between
cars and trees, a cyclist was parked. There was no impediment on the cyclist
making progress to the traffic lights at the junction. The person was holding
back.
The person was known to me. And known to and well used by the security
services.
Had I maintained passage on the other side of the road I would have been seen
by the lying in wait cyclist. The cyclist would then have gone forward and
taken a right turn at the traffic lights where we would chance coincide. An opportunity for the cyclist to dismount and
engage in conversation.
Over the years variations of these chance
encounters were created on countless occasions. This person was used many
times.
It is a tactical game of many formulas. In this instance the likelihood would
be to ask questions. Queries such as: "What's happened?" (Re. my
bicycle tyre being flat). "Where have you been?" And: "What were
you doing there (London)?"
The test would be to see how I answered. Would I admit to being in London.
Would I be evasive. Would I show hesitation. Would I lie. Did I have anything
to hide.
The practitioners of this pathetic psychological mumbo-jumbo do not always win.
The cyclist moved up to the traffic lights and turned right into the main road.
Because of my earlier crossing over we were now on opposite sides.
When we were parallel with one another I shouted over: "You were caught
out this time." The return above traffic noise was a clatter of macho
sounding words amongst which my name was mixed. It was most unfeminine!
Tuesday 16.09.86 A report in the
Guardian caught my eye. "Bomb case delayed a 27 year old Irishman
pleaded not guilty at the Old Bailey yesterday of conspiring to cause an
explosion in Britain. The start of the trial of Thomas Maguire of Milbourne
Street, Blackpool was postponed for 24 hours. Mr. Justice Boreham told the
jury: 'I am not in a position to proceed with this trial at this moment for
reasons I will not bother you with.' Maguire denies conspiracy with Patrick
magee, Patrick Murray and 'other persons unknown' to cause an explosion in the
United Kingdom between January 1 1982 and April 27 1983."
A report in the Guardian of Wednesday
17.09.86 informed that the bombing had been planned for the "Wheeton (sic)
army camp in Fylde."
That is how my introduction to the Weeton conspiracy to bomb case came about.
As in some other instances, it was the authorities who, albeit unwittingly,
informed me.
The quoted paragraphs below are taken from a document known as The Zig-Zag Travail, which was to my
memory typed in July, August, September, reaching completion in early October,
1986. Part of the document shows proof that it was undergoing assembly in
September 1986. It informs that more work was done on research in that year
than I now (original June 1994 Weeton typing) appreciated.
I was aware of there being an authority interest in my doing this work.
Research was carried out in the Kenilworth public library and in the Coventry
City Library. Theoretically the side with a greater knowledge of the other has
the advantage. That said, the imbalance in these matters, one that is as gross
as it is disproportionate, favours state agencies. It is primarily their
friends: the disgruntled former
intelligence officer, the equally disgruntled
retired military man, the facilitated investigative
journalist, the documentary film maker, the phoney human rights and peace
activists, the rent-a-quote agencies,
and others, who are given space and access to communicate to a wider audience.
The technique is to crowd out disclosure of real worth with diversions. Plainly
put, through the medium of dupes and stooges to stamp a lie on the record. In
its way, a system that controls through managed representations of protest
staged exercises in democratic freedoms.
There are undoubted exceptions in the media and elsewhere to this rule of thumb
judgement. Concerned citizens who want the truth to out but are not given the
support to make it possible. In Ireland the latter are about as thick on the
ground as a principled politician and newspaper editor. Beyond these barriers,
other hurdles exist. Convention, privilege, prejudice; contrived ridicule, and
then, when ridicule and lies fail, the gagging
order. Yes, all have flown by me. Intimidation included. And too, side
door/back door encouragement to apply through a solicitor for compensation.
Other side door/back door methods of payment, buy-out formulas, exist but
alas there is no such door for justice.
If you detect a stomach robbed of feeling and made cynical by years of
experience, you are right. To show that neither all feeling or humour has been
vanquished, I will tell you of one side door route by which the secret state
can facilitate payment, the channelling of largesse, to those it has wronged
like me, without, as it were, admitting liability. It is book publishing. And
too, a route by which friends of family can
be rewarded for historic and/or ongoing favours. Bread for sound bite warriors?
Borrowing from notes:
