Read State Violence Online

Authors: Raymond Murray

Tags: #Europe, #Ireland, #General, #History, #Political Science, #Human Rights, #Political Freedom & Security, #british intelligence, #Political prisoners, #Civil Rights, #Politics and government, #collusion, #IRA, #State Violence, #Great Britain, #paramilitaries, #Northern Ireland, #British Security forces, #loyalist, #Political persecution, #1969-1994

State Violence (10 page)

BOOK: State Violence
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They then went on quite a religious theme to point out that the Lord looks for his sinners to repent and that this was the time to repent and, if I was willing to confess that I was doing so at the hand of God, that that was the proper thing he wanted me to do and that, if I went to my grave with the offences that the file told them that I had allegedly committed, well then I would have nothing but damnation for the rest of eternity. Again, after four hours of this, it didn't seem to have any effect, so therefore they brought me back to my cell and there I was brought my tea.

Neither Mr ... nor Mr ..., nor the third man I have just described, physically assaulted me or ill-treated me at any time. My recollection of Mr ... is a man of ... My recollection of Mr ... is a man ... My tea was again something in the line of a fried egg, sausages and beans. I tried to eat as much of the egg as possible and as much of the food as possible because I felt that I needed strength. From the way that the previous two interviews had gone, I felt that they were going to put a terrible strain on me to admit to something that I had nothing to do with.

Third interrogation

After tea I was then taken back again to room five. This time the gentlemen there, whom I didn't know, were very angry at the fact that I hadn't accepted the help that the previous people had tried to give me, that they were really doing their best for me, and I was flying in the face of help by not accepting what they were doing for me. One got to the stage that he would shout at me several times that he knew I was involved, he knew I was a murderer, he knew I was a terrorist, and he knew I was leading all the terrorists and young boys astray. He felt I was a top man in the Provisional IRA and if so from here on I was going to be cracked. He had about two and a half hours or more at this sort of thing. He was disgusted at the end of his interrogation and he again brought me back to my cell. He told me on my way back that I would rue what I had done. The man who conducted this interview was very similar in description to Mr ... He did not physically assault or ill-treat me at any time.

It was during this interview that I heard at least three other people receiving physical abuse as walls shook and I heard people shouting in the room adjoining the one I was in, in the one opposite the one I was in, and in a room some distance away. People were evidently being bashed against the walls and doors, and receiving other ill-treatment which caused them to cry out and roar. I was told by my interviewer not to pass any remarks as this sort of treatment was not for me. I wasn't ten minutes back in my room when a policeman again came and took me out again.

Fourth interrogation, assault

There I met a young gentleman and he brought me down to interview room number five again, after signing me out of the cell block. There we met another tallish, six foot, CID man. He was wearing ... Both these ... walked into the room and said, ‘Bernard O'Connor, you have refused to help'. I said, ‘I haven't been involved in anything'. ‘Well', they said, their job was to prove that I had been. I said they were wrong and the younger of the two asked me what way did I want to get [it]. I asked him what did he mean, and with that he drew out and he hit me a box in the face. He landed me back in the corner against the wall. I was made again to stand up in the middle of the floor by the younger man and was told that was the way they meant. They then started to ask me again to go over the exact same things that the previous people had gone over throughout the day. I again denied all knowledge of them. Each time I kept getting hit in the head by both of them. One of the detectives, the fella in the ... tried to jump across the table and chairs screaming that he was going to kill me. The other one restrained him. They then decided to take me to room number two, which was a much bigger room.

Again there was a table, three chairs and a litter bin. The door was locked behind me from the inside. I was made to stand on my toes, bend my knees and hold out my hands in front of me, like the position the first interviewers had done, by the younger man. I was made stand in that position for about fifteen minutes. I was slapped on the face several times by the younger man, mainly to the cheeks and ears. My shoes were taken from me and kicked around the room by the older man. Several times the fella in the ..., i.e. the older man, hit me punches in the stomach. They both then took off their coats and their ties and rolled up their sleeves. I was told by the younger man that if I wanted to talk I could sit down on the chair. While I refused to talk, they were going to proceed to make me talk. I was kicked around the room by both men, on the legs and buttocks. I was fired around the room from one to the other. I was punched severely in the stomach several times, mainly by the older man. I was made get down on the floor and do ten press-ups. If I let my body touch the floor, I was kicked by the younger man. I was made do ten press-ups. If my heels left the floor again, I was kicked by the younger man on the buttocks. I was again put back on my toes and made stand again with my hands out. This went on and on and on.

Naked

Finally, they decided that it might be even better if I took off my clothes. So I was told to take my trousers off. They then told me to take my underpants off. They then told me to take the rest of my clothes off and I did so, leaving me naked. I was pumped up and down with my head between my knees several times after I was fully clothed again. I was pushed into a corner. The track-suit top which I was wearing was taken off me and put down over my head by the younger man with the arms tied around my neck. I cannot say who tied them around my neck. My nose was closed off with their fingers and my mouth was sealed off with another hand. I couldn't breathe. During this I heard the older man say, ‘Choke the bastard'. I found even my very stomach trying to come up my throat, until finally I could remember no more for a short stage. I felt I must have fainted for maybe just a minute, or maybe five or ten minutes. I have no idea, but I came round the same two people kicking me in the side. I was made run up and down at the time, jogging and running on the spot. Each time I ran past them they kicked me on the legs and buttocks. They couldn't get me to run fast enough. The younger fair-haired CID person started to shadow box in front of me. At no time did he hit me in the face with any of his punches until suddenly he would hit me very very hard in the stomach which would land me maybe five or six feet back against the wall with a very loud bang. He also punched me in the clavicle area several times. Again they flung me around the room. At another stage they made me put the clothes back on again. Because I was too slow putting on my clothes, they would kick me on the backs of my legs and buttocks for not being quick enough. The clothes incidentally were soaked, right out to the very jumper I was wearing, with sweat. They were terribly cold going on but, it is a strange feeling, it felt good to cool me down. This took place just before the pumping up and down which I referred to earlier.

Very shortly afterwards, I was made to take off my entire clothes again. In all I was stripped naked on two occasions. On at least three occasions I was kicked for being slow in taking off or putting on my clothes. I was hooded again by the younger man and again choked and tried to be smothered by them both but, except this time, I remember that I definitely didn't faint out.

Four men

There came, around two or three in the morning of 21 January 1977, two other people who had been doing a similar job on another person like myself in another one of the interview rooms, because I could hear the similar banging and shouting and thumping that was going on similar to my own. One of these clients was ... The other client was much smaller. This means there were then four men in the room apart from myself. The tall black-haired man took me and he spun me around above his head. He spun me round several times and then he threw me through the air. I landed on my back on the ground. When he was spinning me he held me straight up above his head and threatened to break my back on the table. I remember seeing a most beautiful shade of violet for at least half a minute. It would seem that length [of time] and was the most beautiful colour I had ever seen. I was then taken by the same dark-haired man and at another stage he hit me a massive box in the stomach which fired me straight across the room without my feet or anything touching the ground until I spattered against the wall.

In the nude again

I was back in the nude again at another stage. They took my underpants which had been severely soiled with sweat and excretion. They were then put above my head and hung down over my face. I was made run around the room while they mocked and jeered at me concerning my private parts, making references to the fact I had seven children, and then left [me] again standing on my toes with my hands out in a very awkward stance again. I never in my life ever sweated as much as I sweated during that period. At a later stage the two clients who had come in last went out and brought back two fish suppers and two drinks of water for the first two interrogators that started the punishment on me.

Waste paper bin

While they, the first two, sat eating, one of them, the older of them, took the waste paper bin and dumped it down over my head. The litter and paper and cigarette butts went all over the floor. I was made pick up each tiny piece of paper in my hand, one by one, and each cigarette butt had to be picked up in my mouth. If I wasn't doing it quick enough, again I was getting kicked by both of the first two interviewers. When they were finished their fish supper, one of them, the younger of the two, came over to me with a white plastic beaker of water and asked me did I want a drink. I was extremely thirsty and would have been very delighted to get a drink. I said ‘Yes'. He handed the drink into my hand and with the other hand he smacked it out of my hand and sent it flying over the floor. I was then made get down on the floor on my hands and knees and lick the water off the floor. I was delighted even to get it like that.

Threat of assassination

Finally at the end of, I would say, five hours or so of this sort of treatment, they threatened to put me into a car and drive me to the top of the Shankhill Road where they would have already informed the UVF, and let me free and that would solve all their problems. It was the first two interviewers said this. (The other two, i.e., the last two, left after bringing the fish suppers but came in from time to time.) They brought me outside to do this, but walking past the hut where the cells were, I was brought in and put into my cell. The parting word from the younger of the first two plain-clothed detectives was that, 1. he would get me himself, and 2. if he didn't get me, he would drive the car for the other person, i.e. the older detective, to shoot me. That was about four o'clock in the morning of 21 January 1977. All four interviewers last described had frequently used the word ‘fuck' to me.

Fifth interrogation

I was awakened, and it is wrong to say I was awakened because I had no chance of sleeping that night due to my experience, I was called at seven o'clock in the morning of 21 January 1977 and told that my breakfast was there. My breakfast consisted of an egg on toast and some beans. I tried to eat as much of it as I could, because I knew from the experience I had the more food I could eat the stronger I would be.

I was then taken from my cell by another plain-clothed policeman and brought back to room two for interrogation at ten o'clock in the morning of 21 January 1977. I hardly knew what the time was. I kept asking the uniformed policemen who were taking me out of the cell what time it was, and they always told me. The two CID who were taking me now was 1. a smallish fellow, and 2. a taller fellow. These two clients were inclined again to go through the entire file again, to go through the same stuff all over again. But each time I would say ‘No', the small fellow put his hand in front of my forehead. With his fist he kept punching me in the back of the head under the base of the skull until his knuckles got too sore to do it any longer. After the first five or six punches I didn't feel any more. I was numb to punching like that.

I was made continually stare through the window at daylight during this session and I could find my eyes getting very bleary. If I looked around to see the person who was talking to me, I got a box in the face for doing so, as I didn't obey them when I had to look out through the window. The thinner taller one of the two would keep roaring at the top of his voice. I thought my eardrum would burst open. This would last for fifteen or twenty minutes solid at one time. When the dark-haired one would be tired punching me in the back of the head, and after a slight rest, and again talking through the stuff in the file, he would then stand in front of me and slap my face from left to right with an open hand until his face got white with temper when he wasn't able to do it any longer. He got so tired hammering me that he left the room and said that he would be back in ten minutes after he got a break. He said he was fatigued and wasn't able to continue it any longer at that rate but, when he came back, if I wouldn't admit to any offences by then, he would take me to within an inch of my life.

When he came back he was more reasonable than he had been before he went out. For the rest of the interview, apart from an odd slap in the face and a lot of shouting and roaring at me right into my eardrum, the interview ended after about four hours. During this last interview the taller fair-haired fellow punched me several times in the stomach and poked me along the upper chest with extended rigid fingers. Both of these men told me that they were convinced of my guilt and they would personally, if I was released from there, meaning Castlereagh, assassinate me.

It was during the same interview that a third man came into the room and told me that a friend of mine from Castlederg had been shot dead by the UVF and that the same treatment would be suitable for me. One of the two interviewers asked me did I know anyone in Castlederg and I said I did not. I was then taken back to my cell and I was given lunch.

BOOK: State Violence
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