My mum thought ‘I’m a woman, the army won’t shoot me’.. but they did
BALLYMURPHY AND THE FORGOTTEN HORROR
On the last television news of the night, Briege Voyle heard her mother had died: “The funeral of Joan Connolly, a 44-year-old mother of eight, took place today.”
She and her younger sister, then 14 and 13 years old respectively, clung to one another and screamed.
It would take another two decades until Briege learned her mum had been shot in the face, hand, shoulder and thigh by British soldiers and lay on waste ground for six hours, bleeding to death.
Joan was one of 11 people who died – ten were shot and one had a heart attack – in what has become known as the Ballymurphy Massacre, 72 hours of bloodshed in a west Belfast neighbourhood. Another victim, Father Hugh Mullan, 40, was allegedly shot dead by 2nd Bn Parachute Regiment while waving a white cloth.
The Army has always maintained they only opened fire after they were shot at by republican paramilitaries.
It was the Parachute Regiment which, five months later, was involved when 13 people were killed on Bloody Sunday – one of the most remembered tragic episodes of the Troubles.
In contrast, the horror at Ballymurphy from August 9 to 11, 1971, has been largely forgotten. But every day for 47 years, it has haunted victims’ families.
“I still hear my sister’s hysterical screams,” says Briege, now 61. “I still see my daddy’s face when he’d heard a woman fitting mum’s description was in the morgue. Time hasn’t healed. Now it’s time for the truth.”
Today a powerful documentary, The Ballymurphy Precedent, is released.
And on September 10, after a long battle by the families, the inquest into the victims’ deaths will reopen.
It is hoped it will shed light on what happened when 600 Paras saturated the area known as the Catholic ghetto, as well as the IRA’S role in Ballymurphy.
Briege says: “At first the soldiers were warmly welcomed. My mummy, like lots of the women, brought tea and sandwiches out to them. My eldest sister went to dances with the soldiers and married one.”
But by August 9, the mood had changed. In that year, 11 British soldiers – including two teenage brothers – had been shot dead in Northern Ireland. It was the first day of internment, when the UK government granted troops the power to detain people without charge or trial. Morning raids led to many men being “lifted” and held at the Henry Taggart army base.
“Kids aged between 12 and 16 were throwing stones outside in protest at their daddies, brothers and friends being kept there,” says Briege. “Me and my friend went up to see what was going on.
“My mummy came to take me home but we wanted to stay.
“In the end she was insistent, telling me, ‘Go home’.”
As Briege moved away, the Army fired CS gas and she lost sight of her mum.
Joan and a small group of men took shelter behind a pillar. But when 20-year-old Noel Philips was shot and lay screaming in pain, Joan went to his aid.
“I firmly believe my mum thought, ‘I am a woman. The Army wouldn’t shoot me’,” says Briege. “But they did.”
The bullet went through Joan’s eye and, according to witnesses, took “half her face off”. Following three more bullets, she lay on the ground from 9pm to 3.15am. Soldiers picked up five men by her side. Their statements said: “We left the woman because she was already dead.”
Back at Briege’s home, panic rose. “My youngest sister, who was three, kept asking for mummy. My elder sister started calling the hospital and asking if any red-haired women had been brought in and was told, ‘we only have one red-haired woman and she’s in the morgue’. When daddy heard that, he collapsed.”
It wasn’t until the TV news two days later that their fears were confirmed. For years, no one around Briege spoke about how Joan had died.
“If I’d told anyone mummy was shot by the Army but was innocent, people would think, ‘they all say that’. But she was. She had eight kids, one grandchild and six weeks earlier had been given clearance to see her soldier son-in-law at the barracks. Three soldiers said they had killed her. One said she had a pistol, another said she had a rifle and was crawling along on her stomach like a sniper.
“The third said she was sitting in the middle of a field, yards from the army base, with a machine gun. She wasn’t Annie Oakley. She was my mummy who loved and looked after us all, didn’t drink but liked a cigarette and a game of bingo.”
Statements from soldiers and police claim shots were fired from within the crowd of Catholic demonstrators. In his autobiography, General
I still hear my sister’s hysterical screams. Time has not healed BRIEGE VOYLE ON AGONY OF LOSING THEIR MOTHER
Sir Michael Jackson, former head of the British Army, wrote: “The Battalion fought a fierce gun-battle with an estimated 20 gunmen. I was just around the corner, dealing with the press.”
New analysis shown in the film suggests the soldiers were inadvertently firing at each other. Life was extremely hard for Briege’s family, who were offered €280 compensation for her mother’s burial. She says: “I feel, for the past 47 years, I’ve had to make up to my family because mummy was looking for me the day she was killed.”
Briege, a mother of four, for decades told people her mother had been killed in a car crash to avoid the suspicion she was a member of the IRA.
“Now I feel she’s in heaven telling me, ‘Go on Briege – get this sorted’. We prayed for calm and grabbed the peace process with both hands. But there is still a lot of pain on both sides.”
The MOD said: “An inquest is due to take place. As such, it would be inappropriate to comment further.”
Briege’s aims are to discover the truth of her mum’s death and to make her proud. “Mummy had dearly hoped one of her children would have her red hair, but none did. She has almost 40 grandchildren and many have her hair. I wish she could be here to see them.”
■ The Ballymurphy Precedent will be shown in cinemas today, followed by a satellite Q&A with director Callum Macrae – theballymurphyprecedent.com. A shorter TV version will be shown on Channel 4 on September 9.