The Troubles

The Fighting

In the last few months of '71 there had been plenty more clashes, but this time it was between the nationalists and the British Army rather than against the unionists. Seamus McCormick had told his ma that he was out with friends, but Elliot knew he was rioting. Seamus wasn't even a heavy rioter, Fred had just seen him hovering with a group of friends who were throwing cans at the police whilst he stood there, almost unbothered. 

"Useless prick," Fred had called him, angry at his lack of passion and anger at what was happening. "It's fucking aggro corner!"

"It's the army though, Fred," Elliot had replied, looking up from the book he was pretending to revise from at the kitchen table. "They're just trying tae keep the peace."

Fred had just laughed, taking a bite of the last apple in the bowl. "You don't know anything, do you? So fuckin' clueless."

"I know what you do there," Elliot murmured, flipping over a page of the textbook. It was explaining some rubbish about circle geometry. Fred froze and his eyes flashed in warning as he cocked his head.

"You what?"

"Joe's been there, he had to cut through there because the roadblocks were in the way. He saw you and your mates smashin' into a shop. What do you think that  shop's got anythin' to do with it?"

"Well you wouldn't fucking get it, would you?" Fred bit viciously into the apple, his eyes sparked with irritation. 

"Unless that shop was planted there by unionists who plan to bomb the entire street, in that case you were doing people a favour."

"Shut up, Elliot! Fucks sake, it's called a riot." Fred turned around and put his hands on the sink in exasperation.  "You think you're so fuckin' right all the time. You don't know anything do you? Battle of the Bogside? How did that even work? Wha' happened? You have no idea because you're so absorbed in yourself." 

"I know the British Army are neutral, and the riots, i.e you, messed tha' up."

Fred stormed out, slamming the door, leaving the glasses on the side to rattle against each other, and Elliot pulled a hand down his face in tiredness, slamming shut his book. 

"The IRA continue to mount roadblocks, and daily riots are breaking out. An estimated of £4 million with of damage has been done to local shops."

January 22nd 

"The Prime Minister of Northern Ireland has now banned all parades and marches in Northern Ireland until the end of the year, however an anti-internment march has been held in spite of this. Soldiers of the parachute regiment have taken control."

Elliot knew about this as well, because Fred had been on of the protestors throwing stones, and his friend had got fired at by a close-range rubber bullet. Not that Mr Morris cared, he encouraged Fred to fight against the unionists. He protested too, him and Fred took a bus every morning to join the riots. That was of course until the paratroopers. A ruckus on the door startled Elliot, and he ran downstairs, only to open the door to his dad, dried blood on his clothes, and one arm draped around Fred's shoulder for support. Elliot learned, once they'd found ice and his dad was seated in the living room, that the paratroopers violence had gotten out of hand. It was minor though, and two days later his dad had rejoined the protests. The pub was closed most of the time now, to avoid the blow ups that happened around it, but Elliot played his guitar everyday. He'd not even mentioned he was playing at the school, neither his dad nor his brother would count it important compared to what was happening now. It was getting worse by the day, and yet Elliot played on. He played Elvis everyday, Bob Dylan, The Beatles, and he'd even discovered David Bowie. This was the peak of his music, the epidemic of it was gripping him more that it ever had. He supposed it was something to do with the fighting - some sort of distraction, but that sounded cliche and he wasn't going to tell anyone that. Not even Joe, who was also getting way to caught up in the protests. He enjoyed it, he was thrilled by the danger. Not too long later came another anti - interment march. And this was the day.