Read Online State Violence by Raymond Murray - Free Book Online
Authors: Raymond Murray
Tags: General, History, Europe, Political Science, Great Britain, Ireland, Political Freedom & Security, Human Rights, IRA, Civil Rights, Politics and government, Northern Ireland, Political Prisoners, british intelligence, collusion, State Violence, paramilitaries, British Security forces, loyalist, Political persecution, 1969-1994
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are going to tell me everythingâ. Then he sat down again. Then he started asking questions. âWe know you are in the IRA, what is your rank?â Just general questions but pretty rough all the time. Shouting and slapping the table, pushing you about and things like that. I had about three separate interrogations with him. This man had a black heavy curly beard, black hair, combed straight forward, medium length, well-built, about just over thirty, maybe thirty-three. Always rough, losing his head, roaring and shouting.
Round about this time too I was sitting in the mattress room, might have been some time after I came out of the room where I got the first sleep. They came in and pulled the hood up to my nose and gave me some stew. I had to eat it with my fingers.
Soft Interrogator
The period between these interrogations was not very long. I was brought into a different interrogator, in his fifties, going grey-haired, very big, heavy, about six foot two or three. He acted real nice, put his arm around me. Sat down. He talked about politics â where did I get my views from? Did I read any books? Did you ever join the IRA? and so on. He wouldnât ask the same question twice. If you said âNoâ to anything he would make you feel he believed you. He talked about Germany, Japan, the Free State, how well they were doing since the war. I was brought into him two or three times for interrogation. One time there was a plate of beans on the table. He said, âYou can eat themâ. I didnât. I was very sick at this stage.
I had never been to the toilet since I was put against the wall. When I was in the mattress room I was very nervous and tense at this stage and asked out to the toilet, anything to get out of the room; even looking forward to the interrogation.
On the last interrogation, the big tall grey-haired man came in and shouted, âFace the back wallâ. He came in and spoke to me, âCome on, get your hood on, you are coming with meâ. I went into the room again. The hood was taken off. This was the last interrogation. The big grey-haired fella interrogated me. He said, âAnything you want to eat at all, you can haveâ. I got a cup of tea, beans and sausages, bread. Then he put the hood on again. He himself took me to the washroom. I was filthy. He told me to get washed. Got sort of half washed. Then he told me I was for the Crumlin Road. I didnât really believe him at the time. I thought then this was a bluff. But I knew there was something on. Next he came in again. He had a sheet. He asked me to sign it. I told him I couldnât see. I got it and tried to read it. He got annoyed. I waited until I could see. Then I could make out âboots and socksâ, so I signed it. He took me to this room and I was photographed in it. I had a sort of medical check before I went into the room, could feel hands going over me, the hood was still on. I was photographed along with this interrogator. I had no clothes on. Then photographed me on my own, back and front. Then brought back to the room.
Crumlin Road Jail
Then next time brought out treated gently, sort of guiding you instead of pushing you into the vehicle, your foot was lifted up and set into it. From that into the helicopter. The guard kept touching me reassuringly, patting me. Still hooded. Landed. Put into another Land Rover. The hood was taken off in the Land Rover. I was sitting among six or seven police, just outside the Crumlin Road Jail, Belfast. I said to one of them, âWhat day is it today?â He said, âMind your own businessâ. I was brought into the Crumlin through a hole in the wall. As soon as I got out of the Land Rover I could see the jail.
During the time I was away sometimes I would be stubborn with them. Other times you would have done anything. Other times I didnât really believe it was me. The whole time I was against the wall I donât think I stopped praying. I
Round about this time too I was sitting in the mattress room, might have been some time after I came out of the room where I got the first sleep. They came in and pulled the hood up to my nose and gave me some stew. I had to eat it with my fingers.
Soft Interrogator
The period between these interrogations was not very long. I was brought into a different interrogator, in his fifties, going grey-haired, very big, heavy, about six foot two or three. He acted real nice, put his arm around me. Sat down. He talked about politics â where did I get my views from? Did I read any books? Did you ever join the IRA? and so on. He wouldnât ask the same question twice. If you said âNoâ to anything he would make you feel he believed you. He talked about Germany, Japan, the Free State, how well they were doing since the war. I was brought into him two or three times for interrogation. One time there was a plate of beans on the table. He said, âYou can eat themâ. I didnât. I was very sick at this stage.
I had never been to the toilet since I was put against the wall. When I was in the mattress room I was very nervous and tense at this stage and asked out to the toilet, anything to get out of the room; even looking forward to the interrogation.
On the last interrogation, the big tall grey-haired man came in and shouted, âFace the back wallâ. He came in and spoke to me, âCome on, get your hood on, you are coming with meâ. I went into the room again. The hood was taken off. This was the last interrogation. The big grey-haired fella interrogated me. He said, âAnything you want to eat at all, you can haveâ. I got a cup of tea, beans and sausages, bread. Then he put the hood on again. He himself took me to the washroom. I was filthy. He told me to get washed. Got sort of half washed. Then he told me I was for the Crumlin Road. I didnât really believe him at the time. I thought then this was a bluff. But I knew there was something on. Next he came in again. He had a sheet. He asked me to sign it. I told him I couldnât see. I got it and tried to read it. He got annoyed. I waited until I could see. Then I could make out âboots and socksâ, so I signed it. He took me to this room and I was photographed in it. I had a sort of medical check before I went into the room, could feel hands going over me, the hood was still on. I was photographed along with this interrogator. I had no clothes on. Then photographed me on my own, back and front. Then brought back to the room.
Crumlin Road Jail
Then next time brought out treated gently, sort of guiding you instead of pushing you into the vehicle, your foot was lifted up and set into it. From that into the helicopter. The guard kept touching me reassuringly, patting me. Still hooded. Landed. Put into another Land Rover. The hood was taken off in the Land Rover. I was sitting among six or seven police, just outside the Crumlin Road Jail, Belfast. I said to one of them, âWhat day is it today?â He said, âMind your own businessâ. I was brought into the Crumlin through a hole in the wall. As soon as I got out of the Land Rover I could see the jail.
During the time I was away sometimes I would be stubborn with them. Other times you would have done anything. Other times I didnât really believe it was me. The whole time I was against the wall I donât think I stopped praying. I
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