Courtney McGrailThis Man’s Wee Boy: A Childhood Memory of Peace and Trouble in Derry
by Tony Doherty
(Mercier Press, €12.99)
J. Anthony Gaughan
Derry conjures up memories of the civil rights movement fronted by John Hume, Ivan Cooper and others and television pictures of them as they were beaten off the streets by members of the Royal Ulster Constabulary and Paisleyites.
Then came Bloody Sunday when, on January 30, 1972, 26 unarmed civilians were shot by British paratroopers during a banned civil rights march, of whom 14 died. An investigation into the incident by the British government, known as the Widgery Tribunal, cleared the soldiers and British authorities of blame.
It claimed that the soldiers had shot at “gunmen and bomb throwers”.
Report
The report of the Tribunal was no more than a ‘whitewash’ and infuriated persons with a sense of justice, not least relatives of those who had been killed, injured and maligned. The author, Tony Doherty, was the son of Patsy Doherty, whom he adored and one of those who lost his life on that fateful day.
With others Tony was instrumental in setting up a grass-roots campaign in 1992 which led to the establishment of the Saville Enquiry, and in 2010 the exoneration of his father’s name and all those killed and wounded on Bloody Sunday, and to a public apology from the British Prime Minister David Cameron.
In this autobiography Tony provides a worm’s eye view of his early childhood in Derry from 1967 to 1972, much of it in dialogue form. It describes through the eyes of an inquisitive and thoughtful boy a working-class Catholic/Nationalist family in a city on the edge of civil war.
All the usual stereotypes are in the background: the struggle to stay above the poverty line, frequent unemployment, large families, strong and resourceful women and sectarian-motivated political discrimination.
Tony describes playing with other children in the street, where his classmate, five-year-old Damien Harkin (to whom he dedicates his book) was crushed to death when not nimble enough to get out of the way of an oncoming ‘Sixer’ (an armoured car with six wheels).
The children played football and all the other games children enjoy. Tony noticed that his brother Patrick was different: his voice was different, he spent most of his time with his sister Karen and he had no interest in football! It seems Tony’s parents also observed this and he overheard them whispering about it.
Tony also recalled that on the street he and his friends later heard their older brothers boast about their involvement in the riots on the edge of the Bogside.
Initially when the British soldiers arrived on the streets of Derry they were welcomed by the Nationalists as their protectors against the sectarian RUC and the hated B Specials.
Tony observed the women, including his mother, offering soldiers tea and cakes. He and his companions ran errands for the soldiers posted in the army sangar (hut) at the end of his street.
However the mood changed when the soldiers began to raid houses and ‘lift’ young men and dispatch them into internment. This prompted riots which the army attempted to disperse with CS gas and rubber and plastic bullets.
Tony describes the suffocating effect the gas had on people when it seeped into their homes.
Even with his child’s eye he was also aware of the pall of fear over Derry which intensified when at times he and others had to dive to the floor in his home or at school to avoid stray bullets when clashes between the IRA and the army occurred in their close vicinity.
In telling his story Tony Doherty provides a worthy record of the courage and resilience of the Nationalists of Derry during five tempestuous years fraught with danger.