by Simon Cursey
For example, if you sit at home, stretch out your best, firing arm and point your finger at objects randomly around the room, in a natural way with both eyes open. You’ll notice that at least 90 per cent of the time you will be spot on target with the object you are pointing at. This is how you aim a pistol, pointing at the target as if the barrel is your pointing index finger. The cradling hand cups and holds the firing hand and helps to keep the aiming position as stable as possible. The Browning 9 millie, like most other pistols of a similar calibre, has quite a powerful recoil action ‘kick’ and requires quite a firm grip with both hands. To fire this weapon and most other pistols with one hand, unless in an emergency, is very much a waste of time and ammunition.
Chapter Ten – First, Fast and Furious
On many operations we had to man our own observation posts. These took many different forms – from standing on a street corner or sitting in a vehicle to hiding in the roof of a building; or simply setting up a conventional OP out in the countryside overlooking the city. Sometimes, as mentioned earlier, we would take up a position in house gardens, provided they were large enough and that there was plenty of cover and good avenues of escape.
Periodically, I manned an observation post in an old church roof by Crumlin Road, taking photographs of the Sunday morning worshipers. Two of us usually ‘infilled’ – moved into position – very early in the morning. Then when it was all over by around 1:00 am the following day we would ‘exfill,’ in the middle of the night, leaving no trace that we had been there.
We’d have our cameras on motor-drive, set on tripods, and plenty of film for all types of light, together with camouflage nets to put over ourselves in the darkened area of the roof. We took our 9 millies with us and normally a silenced SMG for a little reassurance, together with plenty of sandwiches and flasks of tea. And there was always at least one of our cars a few minutes away, on standby if we needed them as extra support.
It was a nice little operation, simply clicking away, taking lots of photos and registering them on a timesheet as the Catholic worshipers entered and left the church during the day and evening. We’d make a full register of all the photos of the people that were there on a particular day and time.
We were in effect collating a picture library of who was and wasn’t there, which also came in handy if some player was picked up and tried to use the church last Sunday as his alibi, as they often did. It was known as ‘The Gathering of Information’. Many items of data, gathered together, will produce an ‘Intelligence Picture’. It’s never totally complete, but will be good enough for other experts to build on and fill in the gaps. Intelligence isn’t the information, it’s what you can deduce from the information to hand.
For example, most people walking into a single person’s house can generally see if it’s a man’s or a woman’s home. What you see – clothes, pictures, ornaments, magazines and the style of furniture – is the information, but the picture all this information gives you is ‘Intelligence’. The rooms will often show that they are occupied (information) but the items you see will tell you (intelligence) if the occupant is male or female, perhaps even their age group and also things about the person: smoker or non-smoker, size and weight, books and hobbies.
It’s a matter of training in observation techniques and practice, of being able to analyse accurately the information on hand. Like when you enter a bar and you see at the table where you sit how many chairs and glasses there are and how many cigarettes are in the ash tray. Simply the types of glasses and chairs can tell you how many people were there together, and if they were male or female. Good Barmen will often give males and females different styles of glasses, even if they are drinking the same drink. Also, the ash tray can tell you how many people were there smoking, the sex of the people (lipstick traces), the different types of cigarette and probably how long they were all there.
None of this is foolproof or totally reliable but it all adds up to build the Intelligence Picture. You could also take it one step further and remove items for finger printing, except that gathering glasses and cigarette ends everywhere you go isn’t easy when you’re working alone undercover. But you could take a glass for printing if you knew for sure one of your targets handled it and you needed his or her prints. Today, the experts can get DNA from a cigarette butt – it is legal to extract such information from a discarded item.
We had set up an observation post in the bushes, high in the hills above Suffolk and the Ladybrook Estates near the area of Andersonstown. It was quite a calm, sunny day with some light wispy high clouds and a gentle northerly breeze. There were chest-to-shoulder-high thick, bushy hedgerows running along both sides of the road, offering an ideal quiet place where we often set up an OP for a few hours at a time, observing the estates below. We were in two cars parked on the grassy hard shoulder, off the Upper Springfield Road on a slight bend near some old quarries.
One car had its bonnet up and our two drivers, with their SMGs out of sight, were positioned by the front. Periodically, one of the cars would move off to have a look around a few hundred metres up and down the road. Then they’d come back and park while the rest of us had set up and manned the OP in the bushes.
That particular day we only planned to be there for a few hours, as we had arrived quite late in the morning from our briefing with the Operations and Intelligence officers responsible for the area. The local Army unit knew we were in the area and had arranged for their patrols to keep out of the way for us. Our task was, like always on this regular operation, to observe the housing estates below and record any weapon movements around the streets from house to house, and to take photographs. Afterwards, we would give the details to the local uniformed forces to make follow-up searches later that day or early the next morning.
Frequently, weapons were moved around different houses and luckily for us these movements tended to occur when, as arranged, the uniformed patrols were not so prevalent in the area for a certain period. It was a good operation which we often activated, with great results. But on this occasion everywhere was very quiet, with little or no movement. I had been up and down the road with Kev a few times while John stayed with the other car and Mike, Tug and Colin were observing in the bushes. But there was no-one around. Dave and Ben were off in a third vehicle patrolling nearby, in case we needed some help or support.
After about three or four hours we decided to call it a day. We informed the local Army unit responsible that we were going to move out of the area so that in about an hour they could resume their normal pattern of patrols through the estates below us.
Our plan, after packing up our cameras and tripods and cleaning the whole area, was to drive west, initially about 25 to 30 metres apart, moving away from town along Upper Springfield Road. Then we would turn left, opening up our gap a little and dropping down a narrow lane to Glen Road, which was parallel a few hundred metres below us down the hillside. At the junction with Glen Road we’d turn left again towards the city centre and head off back to base.
We had packed everything up and erased all evidence of our presence, and were ready to set off west along the top road. I was in the lead vehicle with Kev driving and Tug in the back, and we were approximately 100 metres ahead of our second car by the time we got to the lower junction with Glen Road. Arriving at the corner I turned east towards the city and onto Glen Road with the wide, rolling fields rising to my left, up to where our OP had been just a few minutes earlier. The Suffolk housing estate sloped down to my right, like long terraces dropping away in the distance as we moved off towards the city centre. On approaching the bus terminus, which was a few hundred metres further along the Glen Road and on the right, I clearly saw in the distance some men standing and moving around by a car.
As we drew closer and were almost about to pass them, Tug in the back said, ‘Hey look, these guys on the right are armed.’
I looked up from my map folder and both Kev and I registered the men standing by a car holding binocula
rs and weapons. They were just loitering there, grouped together and looking up directly at the area we had just left. I didn’t feel they notice us because they were holding up their binoculars at about 45 degrees, four or five metres from our car, so we carried on past: it was too late to do anything anyway.
As we cruised by at about 30 mph, I radioed a quick Sit Rep back to Mike, who was behind us with John and Colin in our second car. In fact, the Sit Rep turned out to be more like a Fire Control Order: (Group-Range-Indication-Type of fire … or GRIT as it was known):
‘Hello Mike – 100 metres – two o’clock – bus terminus – three armed men.’ I didn’t give the ‘Type of Fire’ … I left that up to Mike to decide.
Mike acknowledged simply, ‘OK, Sy – out.’
The gunmen were still looking up at where we had been as our other vehicle drew closer. They seemed totally oblivious to Mike’s car quickly closing in on them. I pulled in and stopped by some other cars parked about 100 metres further on, to try and observe and act as backup in case I was needed. As far as I could see; Mike’s car drew nearer still, slowing down, and I saw a barrel poking out though the rear side window. Mike was in the back and he gave the gunmen two or three short bursts with a machine gun at about four or five metres range, spraying ten to fifteen rounds into the group. I’m not sure if any of the gunmen fired at our other car, it looked like they did as their weapons appeared to be held up in the aiming position, but I’m not sure, I couldn’t see clear enough into the terminus from my position. All the three gunmen collapsed tumbling and sprawling around the floor with their weapons by the car. They had little idea what had suddenly happened or what hit them. Mike carried on past me and I moved off to follow on behind him, making our way back to base to fill out our reports. As we left the area we immediately reported the shooting to the uniformed forces based in that area.
Soon after, in fact within a day or two, we heard of a fourth casualty – a chap in a house, actually in bed, who had been in the line of fire. The houses beyond the road and bus terminus were lower and the bedroom windows were in line with the road. This fourth chap had been released from internment a few weeks earlier and turned out to be a suspected terrorist member of the IRA.
One or two of the men at the bus terminus had most likely opened fire, while holding their weapons, getting ready to come up to our observation post and launch a murderous attack on us. I don’t think they hadn’t fully realised we had already packed up and left, but could have spotted us as we past-by first. The ‘Rules of Engagement’ in Northern Ireland were and are very clear: in general, you are only allowed to open fire at a person actively shooting at you or someone you are with. Also, you can open fire at someone ‘aiming’ a weapon but who hasn’t yet fired. However, it’s not necessary to have to correctly aim a weapon, to fire it and most weapons can be easily fired from the ‘ready’ position or from the hip.
Our role in Northern Ireland was very different and more dangerous than that of the regular uniformed security forces. Our tasks were far more demanding and we had very little backup to rely on. If there was going to be any shooting about to begin, we always planned to initiate it ourselves whenever possible. Disguise and surprise were our main forms of defence. And our method of approach, if there was a possibility of any shooting, was to act ‘First, Fast and Furious’ with surprise, aggression and speed foremost in our minds. We were a very small unit, no more than eight or nine on duty at any one time, regularly split up in different cars and totally alone. Often working out on a limb and totally surrounded in Republican areas and we had to use ‘maximum force’ when it was required, just to survive. If we hadn’t … we would all be dead now.
Ulster at that time was very much a lawless state. Everyone was desperately fighting for control and the police had little idea of how to control the situation – they were just like empty uniforms walking around. People drove vehicles around freely without licences, insurance or road tax, and the police were very apprehensive or nervous about approaching anyone or issuing summonses in the strong Catholic areas, for fear of being killed. Therefore, the only way to come up with any form of a result and survive was to be ready to act quickly, obviously in line with the Yellow Card - RoE, which we did.
I was with Colin in an OP in the roof of a large building overlooking some streets in the Ballymurphy Estate. We had everything set up just the way we liked it: our SLR cameras with long lenses were mounted on tripods and lots of film for day and night photography was stacked nearby. We had our 9 millies and an SMG with suppressor beside us in case any unwelcome guests turned up, together with our sandwiches with flasks of tea and coffee. We planned to be there for 24 hours, after which time another section would take over from us.
The operation was to last seven days in total and our task was to take photographs of anyone entering and leaving a certain house in the estate. As always in OPs, we had to keep our movements down to a minimum, and if we did need to move around in there, we went very slowly so not to draw any attention from the outside. After our shift finished, we normally took away all the film we had shot for developing back at base by the Intelligence boys. They checked and collated them and later sent copies off to the Special Investigation Branch (SIB) – the military Special Branch – to look over.
During our stay, we had both taken approximately 50 photos each of the comings and goings. But I remember one particular photograph I took: it was of a man acting quite suspiciously by the house. He hovered about, moved up to the door then moved away – I managed to get a couple of shots of him as he did this. One photograph I took, I found out quite a few weeks later, had helped to land him in prison. This was the one I managed to get just as he took hold of the door handle and had one foot inside the door. This photograph associated him with the owners of the house, despite his denying throughout the police interrogation being there on that day or even knowing them. In the end the photograph broke down his defence.
That one photo out of hundreds taken over days sitting and waiting helped to dissolve the case for his defence. That photo, together with other evidence, helped land him and his associates in prison for ten years for illegal possession of weapons.
I often found it quite intriguing how little snippets of information could turn out to be so important in building a case against someone. And from that moment on, I was especially careful with every piece of information I had the privilege to handle.
Another type of OP operation we got involved in was providing protection for prominent people who had been directly threatened, such as ministers or police officers. A well-known senior police officer had asked if the military could offer some form of protection over the coming week.
Following this request, we were tasked to devise a protection plan for him and his family. They lived in a semi-detached house in the area of Castlereagh on the outskirts of southeast Belfast. In our briefing we were informed that this police officer had been threatened on a number of previous occasions, but that he felt the threats were now becoming more serious and would appreciate it if we could offer him protection.
After a lengthy meeting with the officer involved and a reconnaissance of his house and the surrounding area, we all got together back in our briefing room. We filled our pots with tea and got stuck into the sandwiches while Mike briefed everyone about the situation and the task. Mike placed some photos on the backboard, together with a large sketch of the house and surrounding area. He covered all the relevant points and, as always, threw the whole subject over to us for discussion, to put forward any points we felt relevant to the task.
We decided that we needed the whole section, to cover the house, with one more half section acting as backup, periodically patrolling around the general area. We decided to take two SMGs fitted with silencers, together with our own 9 millie pistols and radios to be in contact both within the house and also with our backup team and base HQ. We planned to have four men on duty at any one time, the other four being on reserve in the house, cove
ring the rear but resting. The house itself was part of a terrace and had two large front bedroom windows overlooking a small garden and waist-high brick wall fronting the pavement and road. We felt it would offer some cover and a swift exit for any attackers from the street.
We agreed on one sub-team of two to be set in positions in each front bedroom, covering the street-facing area of the house. We didn’t bother with any specialist equipment as the streets were quite well lit. We agreed on infill at 8:00 pm and exfill each morning before first light at around 5:30 am, and planned to carry on this operation for seven days.
Two of our sections had to alternate each day, operating in a four-hour shift pattern between the eight of us in the house. The officer’s family stayed at a hotel during this period although the officer himself was in the house with us and slept on a couch in the kitchen.
The rear of the house was quite secure, with high panel fences and a large open-plan garden with shrubs around the borders. We all felt that the weakest point was the frontal area. However, we did place some early warning devices around the back garden in the event of an approach from that direction. We assigned each bedroom at the front its own code name and ‘arc of fire’, and we knew thoroughly our procedures in the event of an attack – by either petrol bomb thrown at the downstairs windows or an approach to the front door.
There was little activity during the first two nights except for the odd drunk making his way home. But on the third night at approximately 2:00 am in clear moonlight, we saw two men in their mid-30s. They were long haired and dressed in black donkey jackets and jeans, walking casually down the street on our side. As they reached our house they suddenly stopped and looked around, up and down the street. Then, after a moment or two, they bobbed down behind the low wall at the end of the small garden, only five or six metres from the house. I cocked my SMG and Kev quietly reminded the other half of the team on the radio in the other bedroom:
