The time known as “The Irish Troubles” has seen the rise and demise of a great number of organizations that were established with the intention to protect the rights of either the Protestant or Catholic population of Northern Ireland. Whether or not the motives of these organizations were true or mere political statements or excuses for terrorism shall be of no consequence here. This is not the time for blame; it is the time to look at history and learn from it.

The newcomer to that part of Northern Irish history will be overwhelmed by the complexity of the military conflict, which finds it reflections in the great number of parties involved. Too many historians thrive in throwing around acronyms like UDR, USC, INLA, IRA, PIRA, SAS, RUC, UVF, and many, many more, making it difficult to determine to which side these groups belonged.

My special interest in the Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR) came after reading “The Londonderry Air – Testament Of An Ulster Gunman” by Garrad Gawler.

Garrad Gawler describes in minute detail and with an astonishing level of authenticity not only the inner workings of the Ulster Defence Regiment, but also the activities of underground paramilitary groups of regular citizens who planned and carried out the assassination of suspected Republican terrorists in their neighborhood.

“The Londonderry Air” is one of the very few novels devoted to the Protestant view of what became known as the “Irish Troubles,” but it does so without the purpose of a political statement, but rather describing the life of an angry Protestant civilian through the testament of an Ulster gunman.

The Ulster Defence Regiment

The Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR) was an infantry regiment of the British Army which became operational in 1970, formed on similar lines to other British reserve forces but with the operational role of defence of life or property in Northern Ireland against armed attack or sabotage. The UDR replaced the Ulster Special Constabulary (“B-Specials”) along with a separate police reserve, to assist the regular Armed Forces. It was the largest infantry regiment in the British Army, formed with seven battalions and an extra four added within two years.

The regiment consisted overwhelmingly of part-time volunteers until 1976 when a full time cadre was added. Recruiting from the local community at a time of intercommunal strife, it was accused of sectarian attitudes and collusion with loyalist paramilitary organisations through most of its term. The regiment was intended to be nonpartisan, and it began with Catholic recruits accounting for 18% of membership. However, in time suspicion and disenchantment among the Catholic community grew, and Catholic membership settled at around 3%.

In 1992 the regiment was amalgamated with the Royal Irish Rangers to form the Royal Irish Regiment.

In 2006 the Royal Irish Regiment was awarded the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross which entitled the Ulster Defence Regiment to now be known as The Ulster Defence Regiment CGC.

Background

The UDR was created in 1970, during the period of The Troubles in Northern Ireland. Before its creation, the police organisations charged with keeping order were the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) and the Ulster Special Constabulary (USC or “B Specials”). The RUC was the main police force whilst the USC was a reserve force tasked with patrolling and protection of vulnerable points additionally acting as a personnel reserve. The USC was the object of the Catholic nationalist community mistrust especially given it was drawn exclusively from the Protestant community. Whilst not prohibited by regulation, it was very unlikely that a Catholic could join. Nationalists had protested against the USC even before the events of 1968-9, and disbandment of the force was one of the key demands of both the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association and the Derry Citizens’ Defence Association. Unionists, however, generally supported the USC as contributing to the defence of Northern Ireland from subversion and outside aggression. The USC had played an important and effective role in combating the Irish Republican Army (IRA) Border Campaign of 1956 to 1962.

The inability of the RUC and the USC to cope with the large scale intercommunal rioting of 1969 brought concerns over policing in Northern Ireland to a head. On 14 August, on a day of severe disorder and the police now at breaking point, Home Secretary, James Callaghan granted a request from the Northern Ireland government to deploy the British Army. On the 28th August 1969 security in Northern Ireland, including the USC, was put under the direct control of the General Officer Commanding in Northern Ireland, General Ian Freeland.

The USC, which had no training in riot control, was mobilised to assist the RUC in dealing with the disorder. Widely reported incidents such as the death of a rioter in Tynan on 14 August and widespread allegations of misconduct from Catholic politicians and community leaders ensured that the USC were high on the political agenda for the British Government. Indeed the USC was so mistrusted by the Catholic population that at times this led to increased tension when deployed to Catholic areas. British Prime Minister Harold Wilson publicly declared that the USC being used for crowd control has caused great concern and that they would be progessively replaced by the British Army. He stated “they had up to now been exercing riot control duties… but that is not where they ought to be”. Whilst the Northern Ireland cabinet remained supportive of the USC, it was demonstrated to them at a London meeting on 19th August that disbanding the USC was top of the British Government’s agenda.

In response the Hunt Report was commissioned by the Government of Northern Ireland to: “examine the recruitment, organisation, structure and composition of the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) and the Ulster Special Constabulary and their respective functions and to recommend as necessary what changes are required to provide for the efficient enforcement of law and order in Northern Ireland.” The report, published on 3rd October 1969, recommended that the RUC “should be relieved of all duties of a military nature as soon as possible”. Further; a “locally recruited part-time force, under the control of the G.O.C., Northern Ireland, should be raised”… and that the “force, together with the police volunteer reserve, should replace the Ulster Special Constabulary.” The report whilst recognising the “value of the the anti-guerilla patrols and armed guard duties they have carried out”, noted that whilst not prohibited from joining the USC “that for a variety of reasons, the fact remains that no Roman Catholic is a member” The report recommended that it be replaced with a force that would be “impartial in every sense” and “remove the responsibility of military style operations from the police force”.

The publication of the Hunt Report led to rioting on the Shankill Road in Belfast with both the RUC and army forced to battle loyalists. These disturbances led to the death of 3 people including RUC Constable Victor Arbuckle, the first RUC death in The Troubles. The USC itself suffered discontent and some resignations in the wake of the report.

The British Government accepted the findings of the Hunt Report and published a Bill and white paper on 12th November 1969 to begin the process of establishing the UDR. The resulting parliamentary debate in Westminster highlighted concerns about a continuing role for the USC. Jeremy Thorpe MP pointed to the fact that …”a substantial majority was to be recruited from former B Specials” and questioned if this was “likely to increase the chances of general acceptance in Ulster?” Roy Hattersley pointed out that this was due to “necessity” and that despite reservations towards some, the majority of the Specials were “men who have given good and honourable service to Northern Ireland.” Bernadette Devlin, MP for Mid Ulster, meanwhile stated that “What we are being offered, in my opinion, is the B Specials under another name”.

The Belfast Telegraph disagreed with the critics. In editorials several days apart it declared: “In no sense can the new Regiment be regarded like the old USC, as a vigilante force and a law unto itself. Inevitably the members of the new force will be provided by present B Specials and just as inevitably it is already being smeared in some quarters as simply the old force in new uniform. Every effort must be made to ensure that this is not so. No-one must be able to put a denominational tag on the UDR and if one of the senior officers in the force happened to be a Roman Catholic, so much the better…. The establishment of this new force should be regarded as a turning point in the life of the community.” (Source: Wikipedia.org)

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THE BLEEDING HILLS
A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

I have fought a good fight,
I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith.
- 2 Timothy iv. 7

The Irish War is officially a part of history, but not for Finnean Whelan, an IRA veteran of almost 40 years. British Intelligence has produced evidence that he is the mastermind behind a conspiracy to assassinate the First Minister of Northern Ireland. For Whelan this is not only a mission of revenge, but marks the beginning of a journey into the past and the return to the one true love: Ireland. [More...]

The Bleeding Hills is available at Amazon.Com, Amazon.co.uk, Barnes & Nobel, and any other good bookstore.

There is a good reason why my first novel The Bleeding Hills is based on the controversial theme of the Irish Troubles. My Irish-American, red-haired, green-eyed wife is a staunch supporter of the Irish Republican movement and that includes an admiration for Gerry Adams, the president of Sinn Féin, the second largest political party in Northern Ireland.

I  am now officially an “Irish-By-Marriage,” wearing a Claddagh ring on my right hand, and a wedding band with a Celtic Knot design on my left. The Claddagh ring is a traditional Irish ring given as a token of friendship, love and/or as a wedding ring. The design and customs associated with it originated in the Irish fishing village of Claddagh, located just outside the city of Galway.

My wife’s grandmother, Anne (Tierney) Sargent, immigrated from Ireland, specifically the little isle of Inishbofin off the coast of Galway, to the United States in the early 1920s. She was seventeen years old at the time, and she never returned to her native country. As a result, my wife (and now I) have relatives, the King Family, who live on the island. A few years back we visited them, and, again, thanks to Peadar King, who introduced me to Colm O’Donnell’s CD Farewell to Evening Dances during our stay. Listening to the CD, especially The Boys Of Barr Na Sraide, sparked the idea to my novel.

Inishbofin (derived from the Irish Inis Bó Finne meaning Island of the White Cow) is an island lying about 8 kilometers (5.0 mi) off the coast of Connemara, County Galway, Ireland. It is about 5.5 km (3½ mi) long and 3 km (1.9 mi) wide, and has around 200 inhabitants. The island is popular with artists. Inishbofin can be reached by ferry from the pier in Cleggan. There is also a helipad, and an airstrip has been built on the island. There are three hotels on the island, Day’s Inishbofin House Hotel, Murray’s Doonmore Hotel and the Dolphin Hotel, as well as a hostel. A community centre includes a small island library. Inishbofin hosted the 2008 All-Ireland Islands Football Tournament.

The island’s English name Inishbofin is derived from the Irish name Inis Bó Finne (Island of the White Cow). The name has its origins in a local legend. The island has been occupied continuously since the Bronze Age. In 668, Saint Colmán founded a monastery on Inishbofin which survived until the 10th century. It is also home to the ruins of Cromwell’s barracks, constructed in 1652. When the much hated Cromwell was in power, Inishbofin was transformed into a penal colony for Catholic clergy. An unfortunate bishop was tied to “Bishop’s Rock” at low tide and drowned as the waters rose.

Inishbofin is also home to Dún Gráinne, the remains of a fort used by the legendary Gráinne O’Malley, Ireland’s pirate queen, as well as the ruins of a Celtic fort dating to 1000 B.C. Inishbofin is believed to have been continuously inhabited for up to 10,000 years. Islanders refer to the fort, which is a good example of a 17th century ‘star’ fort as ‘Oliver Cromwell’s Fort’. It was built in the 1650s during the Cromwellian wars to command the harbour entrance. Inishbofin was one of the most important shipping havens on the West coast of Ireland in the days of sail. It was one of the last Royalist strongholds to fall to Cromwell’s army and was garrisoned by them until the end of the century. The Cromwellians used it as a staging post for Irish men and women who were being transported to the West Indies.

The current population of approximately 200 is down from a historical high of over 1000 in the 1840s.

An aspect of the island is that it has no trees or forests whatsoever. Any wood was cut down and used as heating fuel. Because of the salt-enriched air, trees were never able to re-establish themselves. Instead, a popular fuel on the island is peat turf. Cut from peat bogs, the turf is dried and makes a pleasant-smelling fire. (Source: Wikipedia.org)

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THE BLEEDING HILLS
A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

I have fought a good fight,
I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith.
- 2 Timothy iv. 7

The Irish War is officially a part of history, but not for Finnean Whelan, an IRA veteran of almost 40 years. British Intelligence has produced evidence that he is the mastermind behind a conspiracy to assassinate the First Minister of Northern Ireland. For Whelan this is not only a mission of revenge, but marks the beginning of a journey into the past and the return to the one true love: Ireland. [More...]

The Bleeding Hills is available at Amazon.Com, Amazon.co.uk, Barnes & Nobel, and any other good bookstore.

During the research for my novel The Bleeding Hills I stumbled upon the intriguing story of one charismatic character, British Captain Robert Nairac, an undercover agent active during the Irish troubles, and in May of 2009 I wrote a post titled Robert Nairac – Hero, Butcher, Homosexual…?

The interest in Captain Nairac was sparked by an article titled Shadow Man and written by Eamonn O’Neill for the Esquire Magazine. Let me quote:

British Army Captain Robert Nairac fought his own war on the streets of Seventies’ Belfast, heading out on patrol with a cowboy hat, trainers and a pump-action shotgun. His undercover activities won him both the George Cross and accusations of treachery, but doubt surrounds almost everything he did.

Source: http://www.eamonnoneill.com/wp-content/uploads/ROBERT-NAIRAC.pdf

Captain Nairac is generally described as charismatic and brilliant, but there was also a dark side to him, something that most of his contemporaries were unable to interpret.

“It’s simple: Nairac didn’t just stick his head in to the lion’s mouth - that wouldn’t have been enough for him. Instead, he had to go and stick it right up the lion’s arse.”

Source: http://www.eamonnoneill.com/wp-content/uploads/ROBERT-NAIRAC.pdf

Almost immediately after reading O’Neill’s fascinating article the thought came to mind that Captain Robert Nairac, in view of his tendency toward flamboyant appearances, might have been gay. The initial premonition was substantiated by further research represented, among other resources, by articles of which some hinted and others openly addressed his homosexuality.

There was also the topic of unexplained behavioral patterns that some described as a death wish, a view that is reinforced by accounts of his irrational, and in some cases outright suicidal activities, and this is not a typical gay feature. However, Captain Robert Nairac was also a devoted Catholic, and in Roman Catholicism, homosexual acts are considered contrary to natural law and sinful, while homosexual desires are considered “disordered” but not themselves sinful. For me, the conflict between being Catholic and being gay was sufficient evidence explaining his suicidal tendencies, and I left it at that.

Case closed; or so I thought. As of lately I have received information that provided a much more sophisticated insight into Nairac’s psyche, namely the “death wish” theory. I am at a point where I distance myself from that assessment. Yet still, in my very personal opinion, Captain Robert Nairac was gay.

Before I go into further details let me make a statement to counter potential accusations such as smearing the memory of a British soldier on one end or discrimination of gay rights at the other. I strongly support the view that homosexuality is not a mental disorder. In the same sense, a person’s sexual orientation is not a matter of choice; individuals have no more choice about being homosexual than heterosexual. I am heterosexual, but I accept homosexuality as a different form of life style.

My conclusion that Robert Nairac was gay is still a theory, and I am far from trying to cast a blame of any sort; my mere intention was to find an understanding of what was described as irrational behavior, a behavior that eventually led to the slaying of Captain Robert Nairac, a British officer with a bright future.

I am aware of the concerns and complaints from people who knew him and their demand to respect the Nairac family’s right to privacy. It is my belief, though, that everybody loses that privilege as soon as they happen to dwell in the limelight, voluntarily or not. The question is, what exactly put him into that position? I believe, it was his violent nature, or at least the records – right or wrong – thereof. The fact remains that he is now, for tragic reasons, public property and therefore arguably a legitimate subject for research.

Available records of Robert Nairac’s life (including John Parker’s Biography “Secret Hero”) have mostly ignored his secret personal life, which represents an extraordinary omission, given that Nairac’s obsession with Ireland, the circumstances of Nairac’s presence in Northern Ireland, his army career, and, most importantly, his death were all dependent on choices he had made and which were influenced by his character and background.

Keeping in view Nairac’s role and accomplishments in the Irish conflict, it is only logical to penetrate to some extend the mystery about him and his fate. Nothing that may be unearthed during this investigation can take away from the image we already have of an extraordinary man.

Everything you read about British Captain Robert Nairac on this website represents my very personal view and research on the topic. If you deem my findings objectionable or in err, please feel free to leave a comment below or write to me directly by using this website’s contact form. The same applies for any comments, in favor or not, and for information you would like to share. All I ask, is to keep a professional attitude on the subject.

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THE BLEEDING HILLS
A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

I have fought a good fight,
I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith.
- 2 Timothy iv. 7

The Irish War is officially a part of history, but not for Finnean Whelan, an IRA veteran of almost 40 years. British Intelligence has produced evidence that he is the mastermind behind a conspiracy to assassinate the First Minister of Northern Ireland. For Whelan this is not only a mission of revenge, but marks the beginning of a journey into the past and the return to the one true love: Ireland. [More...]

The Bleeding Hills is available at Amazon.Com, Amazon.co.uk, Barnes & Nobel, and any other good bookstore.

The Irish War is officially a part of history, but not for Finnean Whelan, an IRA veteran of almost 40 years. British Intelligence has produced evidence that he is the mastermind behind a conspiracy to assassinate the First Minister of Northern Ireland. Finn is protected in his exile in the United States after having worked for the CIA. Consequently, British Intelligence has come up with a plan to lure Finn back into their jurisdiction, Northern Ireland, by revealing the identity of the man who is ultimately responsible for the killing of Finn’s wife, Shauna.

Here they hope not only to apprehend him, but also lead them to another conspirator, Martin Sheehan, who hides in the Northern provinces. For Whelan this is not only a mission of revenge, but marks the beginning of a journey into the past and the return to the one true love: Ireland.

The Bleeding Hills, Wilfried F. Voss’ newest novel, is skillfully divided into three time lines; they keep the reader glued to the story by providing some surprising twists and turns. The first time line describes the life of Finnean Whelan and his first contact with the Irish Republican Army in the late 1960s. The second line is set in the presence and it portrays Whelan’s journey to Northern Ireland where he intends to accomplish his final plot. The third time line is dedicated to the activities of British Intelligence Services, namely the MI5, attempting to apprehend Whelan and his co-conspirator, Martin Sheehan. All time lines come together in the end and they make for some intriguing twists.

Wilfried F. Voss has cleverly weaved real events of recent Irish history, namely the Irish Troubles, into the life story of Finnean Whelan. They are, just to name a few examples, the events of Bloody Sunday, and the murder of Captain Robert Nairac, an officer with the British Army. The historical facts have been thoroughly investigated, but the author also takes some liberties for interpretation; these interpretations are, nevertheless, based on his meticulous research.

One theory, for instance, is that Captain Robert Nairac was the victim of child abuse at Ampleforth College in England, which, consequently, caused Nairac’s violent behavior during the Irish Troubles. Another interesting theory is based on the claim that British Intelligence Services, even to the present day, are instrumental in a plot to disrupt the peace process in Northern Ireland. Whether or not these claims are true is of no consequence; The Bleeding Hills is not only entertaining, but it also effectively tickles the reader’s mind to learn more about recent Irish history.

Reviews

Using the yarns of the past and the present, violence and love, deceit and honesty, The Bleeding Hills is a tale woven like an Irish sweater. It is a well crafted page-turner that keeps the reader in suspense with unexpected twists throughout. This story is about more than just a the Irish Troubles and espionage; it is personalized through Finn exploring his triumphs and retrospective regrets. What is truly impressive is the author’s skill at exploring the larger issue of civil conflicts–how individuals become involved and how governments perpetuate–without being obvious or sacrificing any of the story at hand.
An outstanding story that is a must read. – Paul Dolan Iubito

Great novel! The story line is captivating and the characters are believable. The author incorporated events of recent Irish history, but he also addresses political issues such as the current MI5 involvement in Northern Ireland. His views may be pro-Irish, but they are nevertheless in favor of present day British policies. All this is skillfully mingled with a real-life story with all the right elements – love, romance, suspense, and humor. – L. Pierro-Pulsifer

Although the story here is fictional, I felt the historical research portrayed in The Bleeding Hills was very well done. Voss has achieved weaving the three time lines portrayed in the story together with interesting twists and turns (that I was not expecting) into a solid and, I think, fair rendition of the Irish Troubles from a personal point of view – that of Finnean Whelan. The story of Finnean Whelan and his love of Ireland is both exciting and touching – a good read for anyone interested in the Irish Troubles with a touch of excitement and mystery included. – Y. Campbell

More Background Information

The Boys of Barr Na Sraide
I first heard the song The Boys of Barr Na Sraide in Ireland on the small isle of Inishbofin off the coast of Galway. My wife’s grandmother was born here and she immigrated to the United States in the early 1920s. We had visitied Paddy Joe and Regina King, some distant cousins of my wife’s. Their son, Peadar (the Irish version of Peter), had shown me a CD by Colm O’Donnell, Farewell to Evening Dances, which he was very fond of and I share that feeling now. The title of Colm O’Donnell’s CD is taken from the song The Hill of Knacknashee, another sentimental and lyrical ballad on the CD. I shamelessly copied the idea and took a line out of The Boys of Barr Na Sraide, the line that goes “And when the hills were bleeding and rifles were aflame…”, to use it as the title for my book “The Bleeding Hills“. Read the author’s post.

March 7, 2009 – Terror Returns to Northern Ireland
Isn’t it ironic – The storyline of my novel-in-the-making “The Bleeding Hills” invokes the possibility of a plot to assassinate the First Minister of Northern Ireland, an idea that could have been viewed as somewhat preposterous. Yesterday, March 7, 2009,  two British soldiers were killed and four others, among them two pizza delivery men, were wounded in what is the first major terrorist attack in the province for over a decade. The shootings occurred at the Massereene army base in Antrim, 16 miles north of Belfast, at 9.40pm. Nobody has yet claimed responsibility for the attack but security sources said the incident was undoubtedly the work of dissident organisations opposed to the peace settlement. In my novel I refer to the so-called Real IRA as the force behind the assassination plot. The Real Irish Republican Army was founded in October 1997 by former members of the Provisional IRA, who were dissatisfied with the direction of the Irish peace process, especially the position of Sinn Fein. Read the author’s post.

British Undercover Operations in Northern Ireland
Yet again the idea behind my book “The Bleeding Hills” has been strikingly confirmed by the the latest attack on British soldiers on March 7th. In my blog entry – and my book – I refer specifically to the operations of the so-called Real IRA and, ironically, the RIRA has claimed responsibility for the attacks. However, one comment in the first report of the attacks caught my attention, since my book also addresses British undercover operations in Northern Ireland. Northern Ireland’s chief constable, Sir Hugh Orde, had confirmed that undercover British army troops were on paramilitary surveillance duties in Northern Ireland. In my mind I had started another blog entry, complaining that British officials are inexplicably unable to learn from past mistakes, but I have been pre-empted (if I may say so) by somebody more competent to talk about such affairs. Read the author’s post.

Bloody Sunday – January 30, 1972
I have often criticized the lack of good literature explaining the events of Bloody Sunday untainted and comprehensible. I have been faced with the same dilemma, now that I am in the middle of writing chapter four of my novel “The Bleeding Hills“, where Bloody Sunday takes center stage. For the record, I am not looking down on those who were present at Bloody Sunday and wrote a book about it. An atrocity like this should be a part of a well recorded history, but I also believe that, in order to spark the interest of future generations, you need to start with the basics and these basics should, first of all, not be politically tainted; consequently they will lose credibility. In regards to comprehensiveness of recorded history, it does not help to confuse the newcomer to Irish history by frequently referring to Unionists, Republicans, Loyalists, MRF, SAS, MI5, MI6, Real IRA, Continuity IRA, RUC, Provisional IRA, INLA, NICRA, Saville, Widgery, MP, PM, etc., etc., without providing a comprehensible reference. The majority of books and web sites I found on the subject were written by experts for experts, having only their own indulgence in mind. What a waste of resources and what a waste to make it so difficult for our children to understand history! Read the author’s post.

The Bloody Sunday Inquiry
The story line behind my novel “The Bleeding Hills” would not be complete without a look into the two inquiries of Bloody Sunday, the Widgery Report of 1972 and the official Bloody Sunday Inquiry initiated in 1998. The Widgery Tribual was held in the immediate aftermath of the events of Bloody Sunday; it was set up to look into the events. This was conducted by Lord Chief Justice Widgery. The report was widely criticized as a whitewash. Even though the judges of the official Bloody Sunday Inquiry retired on November 23, 2004, there has been no measurable result to this day. Statements regarding a possible publication of the Inquiry’s Report have been modified from year to year. The current statement on the Wikipedia web site is that the publication “was expected at the end of 2007, or possibly early 2008.” – Note: This blog entry was written on March 22, 2009. Read the author’s post.

Robert Nairac – Hero, Butcher, Homosexual…?
During the research for my book “The Bleeding Hills” I stumbled upon the intriguing story of one charismatic character, British Captain Robert Nairac, an undercover agent active during the Irish troubles (For more references see the hyperlinks at the end of this article). While Irish republicans consider him a butcher, and the British Army calls him a war hero, they all share the view that “he was strange” – to use a mild expression. First of all, after studying various articles on the life and death of Robert Nairac, I have come to the conclusion that Nairac was driven by a death wish, a point that may not be disputed by many of those who knew him. My next conclusion may be, however, far more controversial. After applying a simple method of studying behavioral patterns and comparing it to recent as well as historical cases, I have come to the personal conclusion that Captain Robert Nairac was either gay and/or the victim of sexual abuse during his childhood. Read the author’s post.

For more author’s posts see http://www.frogenyozurt.com/my-novels/the-bleeding-hills/.

I will get into more details later, but, first, let’s look into some blogging aspects.

This post is about handling comments made by readers, especially those who disagree with your writing. Eric Hoffer once said, rudeness is the weak man’s imitation of strength, and it is usually rudeness that dominates negative comments. As a blogger you should not dispose of negative feedback, but you need to deal with it. I use them to my advantage under the motto, if life is a lemon make lemon juice.

I approve every comment made on my blog (unless they are spam), and I respond to most of them, specifically the rude ones. Not only do I call these people on their rudeness; I also contradict them while staying as sober as possible. It’s like a chess game where you know several moves ahead of time that your opponent will be checkmate. The rudeness is a dead giveaway, indicating emotional distress, unable to express a sober and profound counter view.

My bible on blogging, The Huffington Post Complete Guide To Blogging – See my post Oprah, Statue of Liberty Praise FrogenYozurt.Com, comments on responding to comments:

“Before you start blogging, have a long talk with your favorite shrink or best friend. … You can respond to each comment individually or in bunches, which is one of the merits of blogging. But do not expect that you will win over all your critics.”

Another aspect on responding to comments is not to make enemies. Well, easier said than done. The negative responses I received were primarily in regards to my research for my novel The Bleeding Hills, which is about the Irish Troubles, past and present, including the events of Bloody Sunday. See my post Sunday Bloody Sunday – Beyond U2.

I pride myself of applying intense research on the topics I write about. At the same time I am allowed to take some liberties when it comes to writing the novel. However, that liberty does not apply to the actual research which I usually post here on my blog. The first time I received such a comment I re-engaged into more research just to find that the initial result was not flawed in any shape or form. The criticism was mostly based on more or less philosophical differences, never on facts.

Steven Weber, actor and Huffpost blogger, wrote about the difference between being a humble and charming actor and a truthful, not-so-humble blogger:

“People are usually pleasant but rarely critical, at least to my face. Rover [Weber's blog] has changed that. People fucking hate me. Hate me. … What a schmuck. Again, not being humble. Being truthful. I am potentially biting the hand that feeds me and my family. … So essentially I have learned, as a blogger, to be truthful and humble, but to pay careful attention to the possibly labored technique of my little forays into social commentary, rather than worrying about offending people with the content.”

Source: The Huffington Post Complete Guide To Blogging.

Personally, while treating every comment with the necessary respect, I don’t quite agree with the humble aspect. I write my posts, and I try very hard not to offend, but I do dare to provoke. There is nothing wrong about being provocative with the intention to trigger a thought process, and those who have a brain will get it; those who don’t may feel offended, and they usually use insult to express their mind.

One of those provocative posts was Robert Nairac – Hero, Butcher, Homosexual…?. Let me quote from the post:

“During the research for my book “The Bleeding Hills” I stumbled upon the intriguing story of one charismatic character, British Captain Robert Nairac, an undercover agent active during the Irish troubles. While Irish republicans consider him a butcher, and the British Army calls him a war hero, they all share the view that “he was strange” – to use a mild expression.

First of all, after studying various articles on the life and death of Robert Nairac, I have come to the conclusion that Nairac was driven by a death wish, a point that may not be disputed by many of those who knew him. My next conclusion may be, however, far more controversial. After applying a simple method of studying behavioral patterns and comparing it to recent as well as historical cases, I have come to the personal conclusion that Captain Robert Nairac was either gay and/or the victim of sexual abuse during his childhood.”

At the time of writing the post I was aware of the provocative nature of the title – nothing wrong with “aggressive marketing” – especially when read by military conservatives in Great Britain. I did not expect I would be contacted by the daughter of one of Captain Nairac’s fellow colleagues, but that’s exactly what happened.

Natalie from England took offense on the characterization of her father in the post.

“…has been described as “a nasty bit of work — a psychotic … He bit his fingernails down to the white half-moons and was living on his nerves continually, possibly taking drugs.”

Naturally, Natalie did not agree that her father was described as a psychotic; neither did he take drugs. The truth is, I quoted from an article in an Irish newspaper, and the comments were made within quotation marks. Nevertheless, Natalie took offense, and she accused me of superficial, incompetent research, not only about her father, but also in regards to Captain Robert Nairac. She continued her tirades on Facebook after signing up as a “Fan” on my Facebook page. As I wrote, humble is not one of my attributes when it comes to my research, and I challenged her to contradict my findings, which didn’t happen. After a while, we agreed that we did not agree. She stayed a Facebook “Fan”, though.

My research was challenged again by another British citizen, who, yet again, threw insult after insult at me, but in the end could not contribute any facts. As it turns out, he felt offended by the post’s title, but admitted that other sources had come to the same conclusion about Nairac’s sexual affiliation. The theory (and I made clear that this is what it is) that Nairac was the victim of child abuse is still solely mine. The indications of child abuse are, in my personal opinion, compelling, and I would expect readers to put some thoughts into the matter rather than dismissing it as nonsense right away. But this is not how it works with blogs, and, as I wrote before, as a blogger you need to learn to deal with that kind of situation.

Recent events, such as the apology of the British prime minster, and current newspaper articles addressing Bloody Sunday confirmed yet again that my research was thorough. I couldn’t help to express my excitement not only on my blog, but also on Facebook.

“guardian.co.uk: Paras ‘out of control’ on Bloody Sunday – PM reads Saville inquiry findings – Marchers take to streets of Derry – Calls for prosecution of ex-army chief.

I have been accused of superficial and misleading research for my novel “The Bleeding Hills,” and these days, now that the Saville report is being released, my findings are confirmed by current articles in The Guardian addressing British handling of the Irish Troubles.”

That same day Natalie from England removed herself as a “Like”, formerly known as “Fan”. Oh well.

Guardian.co.uk - Bloody Sunday - PM Apologizes

David Cameron today issued a formal apology on behalf of the state for the “unjustified and unjustifiable” killing of 14 civil rights marchers by British soldiers on Bloody Sunday in Derry 38 years ago.

The prime minister said the Lord Saville inquiry’s long-awaited report showed soldiers lied about their involvement in the killings, and that all of those who died were innocent.

He said the inquiry was “absolutely clear” and there were “no ambiguities” about the conclusions.

Cameron told the Commons: “What happened on Bloody Sunday was both unjustified and unjustifiable. It was wrong.”

Relatives cheered as they watched the statement, relayed to screens outside the Guildhall in Derry.

Bloody Sunday, as the events on 30 January 30 1972 came to be known, was one of the most controversial moments of the Troubles. Paratroopers opened fire while trying to police a banned civil rights march.

They killed 13 marchers outright, and wounded another 13, one of whom subsequently died later in hospital.

The conclusions of the 5,000-page, 10-volume report, which took 12 years to compile at a cost of almost £191m, prompted the first formal apology to victims’ families in almost four decades.

The prime minister began his statement by saying he was deeply patriotic and did not want to believe anything bad about his country. But he said that the conclusion of the 12-year inquiry were “absolutely clear”. He went on to outline the findings of the inquiry before making the apology.

“The government is ultimately responsible for the conduct of the armed forces, and for that, on behalf of the government and on behalf of the country, I am deeply sorry.”

The inquiry found that the order that sent British soldiers into the Bogside “should not have been given”, said Cameron.

It found none of those killed by British soldiers was armed with firearms and no warning was given by the soldiers.

Cameron said the casualties were down to the soldiers “losing their self control”. Some soldiers had “knowingly put forward false accounts” to the inquiry.

Lord Saville uses the word “unjustifiable” repeatedly throughout the report to describe the fatal shootings carried out by the parachute regiment – a judgment that opens up the possibility of legal action against soldiers involved in the atrocity.

In terms of declaring the Bloody Sunday dead innocent, the report concludes: “None of the firing by the Support Company (paratroopers) was aimed at people posing a threat or causing death or serious injury.”

While the report clears the 14 civilians killed that day, it appears to exonerate some of the army officers who were in charge of the military operation.

The report finds that Lieutenant Colonel Wilford blatantly ignored the advice of senior military commanders not to send troops into the Bogside.

Many of the soldiers lied to the inquiry, Lord Saville also concludes in his report. “Many of these soldiers have knowingly put forward false accounts in order to seek to justify their firing.”

Under the rules of the inquiry this conclusion means that soldiers can also be prosecuted for perjury. Lord Saville said that on Bloody Sunday there had been “a serious and widespread loss of fire discipline among the soldiers”.

Reacting to the report, a former priest who was on the fated march 38 years ago, Denis Bradley, said: “The city has been vindicated, the city has been telling the truth about Bloody Sunday all along.”

Source: http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2010/jun/15/bloody-sunday-report-saville-inquiry

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A Love Story of Almost Shakespearean Dimension!

Queen Of Misfortune is the fictional story of Lady Jane Grey as told by her beloved tutor, John Aylmer. At the time of her execution a stranger is recorded to have assisted her when, blind folded, she lost her way upon the scaffold. Was it the same ‘stranger’ who was also recorded to have visited her when she was imprisoned in the Tower? Little is known of this unfortunate girl who was beheaded for treason in the 16^th Century. She was only 16. She is omitted from the list of monarchs but was actually queen for nine days. Author Peter Carroll, in his novel, follows John Aylmer’s close relationship with Jane as her tutor and later, as she grows up, her lover. [More...]

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In my novel The Bleeding Hills I raise the view that conservative powers, including those of the British security establishment, are, in a passive aggressive way, not interested in upholding the Good Friday agreement, and, in all consequence, refuse to support lasting peace in Northern Ireland.

In my book I also refer to Tony Blair as “the first prime minister with a brain.” In fact, Tony Blair, despite his failure of handling the Iraq question, was the first prime minister who successfully established peace in Northern Ireland, which included the disarmament of paramilitary organizations of both sides, Protestant and Catholic.

The events of Bloody Sunday, almost 40 years ago, were particularly damaging to Britain’s reputation as was the Widgery report which is widely – even in Great Britian – considered a white-wash. I am counting that the Saville report, which will be released today, will provide an objective finding of what really happened during the events of Bloody Sunday. After all those years it is not a matter of pointing to the guilty; this is a matter of admitting a wrong-doing that shouldn’t have happened and never should happen again. In order to make a better future we need to learn from the past – See above quote by George Bernard Shaw.

My view that conservative powers and the British security establishment are not interested in finding the truth are, with the upcoming Saville report, being confirmed on a daily basis – See the Guardian’s article below and read my post Bloody Sunday – Saville Report Will Be Published.

Bertie Ahern says security chiefs pressed Tony Blair not to call inquiry

Guardian.co.uk – Monday 14 June 2010

Britain’s security establishment tried to dissuade Tony Blair from agreeing to the Bloody Sunday inquiry, the former Irish prime minister Bertie Ahern said today. Ahern, who was taoiseach at the time the Saville inquiry was set up in early 1998, also said its creation had helped build nationalist confidence in the Northern Ireland peace process.

The inquiry’s long-awaited report into the killing of 14 civil rights marchers by British paratroopers in Derry in 1972 will be published at 3.30pm on Tuesday in Derry and London. The 5,000-page, 10-volume report took 12 years to compile, at a cost of almost £191m.

Ahern said its impact on the peace process had been critical. “It was immensely important because at that time we were trying to build confidence and help the people of Derry, who had been dealing with this for years,” Ahern said.

Martin McGuinness, the former IRA chief of staff who is now Northern Ireland’s deputy first minister, today denied claims that he had told Blair an apology from London over Bloody Sunday would be enough. The Sinn Féin MP said the assertion by Jonathan Powell, Blair’s chief of staff in Downing Street, that McGuinness told Blair a multimillion-pound inquiry was not necessary was “erroneous.”

In his book Great Hatred, Little Room, Powell alleges McGuinness made the observations to Blair during secret talks. But McGuinness said: “The citizens of Derry, to a man and woman, want Saville to make it absolutely clear that the 27 people who were shot on that day – murdered and injured – were completely innocent people and that those people who inflicted those deaths and injuries were the guilty parties.” In evidence, McGuinness told the inquiry that on Bloody Sunday he was adjutant of the Derry IRA.

Read the full article…

Banner and Crosses carried by the families of the Bloody Sunday victims on the annual commemoration march.

More than twelve years after the hearings started, and after numerous delays, the Saville Report addressing the findings of the events of Bloody Sunday will finally be released tomorrow.

Also today I found an article in The Guardian which represents the most critical account of British handling of the affair I have ever read in an English newspaper. It bluntly addresses the cover-up by British troops that continues to this day.

In my novel The Bleeding Hills I refer to the British Army’s poor handling of the situation during and after the events of Bloody Sunday, and my views are definitely not shared by British militaries. Nevertheless, I feel great satisfaction that my views are confirmed by the Guardian’s reporter, Richard Norton-Tayler.

And there is yet another aspect in my novel that is being confirmed in the article, namely the different handling of the affair by the new conservative government. I raise the point that a conservative government will change Great Britain’s course on achieving lasting peace in Northern Ireland, and it will change it dramatically. In fact, I predict that, in the long run, a conservative British government will challenge the validity of the Good Friday agreement and thus fuel violence in the Northern Provinces again.

The Guardian article also refers to the justice secretary Kenneth Clarke complaining about costs and timeline of the Saville report, and the tone used indicates to me a very critical view not limited to expenses. Yes, the inquiry took longer than expected, and the continued delays angered many. The most important aspect, however, is finding the truth, and it seems the truth will not sit well with British conservatives and militaries. In all consequence, they will criticize every aspect that comes with the report.

Bloody Sunday: Amnesia among troops, inflammatory claims by officers

Source: Guardian.co.uk, Sunday 13 June 2010

A week after Bloody Sunday, Field Marshal Michael Carver, chief of the defence staff, met soldiers from 1 Para. He told them they would be supported if they had acted in good faith and if they told the truth at the Widgery tribunal. If they did not, “God help them”, Carver told the soldiers.

They did not tell the truth to Widgery. No disciplinary action was taken against them even though that inquiry, accepted as a whitewash (the secretary to the tribunal said Widgery would “pile up the case against the deceased”, according to declassified documents) concluded that firing by some soldiers “bordered on the reckless”.

Nor did the soldiers tell the truth, years later, to the Saville inquiry. By then they had long since left the army. Most – though not all – fell back on their lawyers’ advice, blocking questions with the refrain “I can’t remember”.

Read the full article…

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The Bleeding Hills

A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

I have fought a good fight,
I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith.
- 2 Timothy iv. 7

The Irish War is officially a part of history, but not for Finnean Whelan, an IRA veteran of almost 40 years. British Intelligence has produced evidence that he is the mastermind behind a conspiracy to assassinate the First Minister of Northern Ireland. For Whelan this is not only a mission of revenge, but marks the beginning of a journey into the past and the return to the one true love: Ireland. [More...]

The Bleeding Hills is available at Amazon.Com, Amazon.co.uk, Barnes & Nobel, and any other good bookstore.

The Bleeding Hills - A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

During the research for my novel The Bleeding Hills I found information on British Captain Robert Nairac whose behavioral patterns during the Irish Troubles can only be described as bizarre, to use a mild expression. I have posted two articles on Nairac on this blog, Robert Nairac – Hero, Butcher, Homosexual…? and Robert Nairac – Supplement to previous entry. I understand that my assessment that Nairac was gay is provocative to those who are unable to accept homosexuality as a different form of lifestyle, and I had to learn to live with criticism.

It is an unfortunate situation, though, that comments not agreeing with my assessment of Captain Robert Nairac’s sexual orientation are harsh to the degree of unfairness, and they are usually insulting, which indicates to me that the commenters are unable, if not incompetent, to contribute solid facts that would contradict my writings. The only solution out of their dilemma is plain rudeness. All they offer are unsubstantiated opinions.

In earlier days I would re-engage into more research on the topic just to learn that my previous research activities on the subject of Robert Nairac, even though he is not the central part of my novel, were thorough. At the same time, nobody who ever criticized my research has been able to prove me wrong. The information I found on Robert Nairac is primarily from English and Irish newspapers and through books written on the subject. I found further information, including a personal testimony, on sexual abuse at Ampleforth College during the time when Nairac was a student there. The speculation that Nairac may have been one of the victims is not out of this world, considering his self-destructive behavior as recorded by the previously mentioned newspapers.

These days I am familiar with the pattern of the criticism and the insult that comes with it, and I use these comments to post them here on my blog. The language of the comments speaks for itself.

April 28, 2010:

Comment:
“Nothing that you’ve grubbed up, googled or just plain guessed at constitutes research in any meaningful sense. Trawling through blogs written by embittered ex-squaddies and republican sympathisers certainly doesn’t, nor does regurgitating damaging hearsay.

For your information, there is absolutely nothing that anyone has ever said or written which suggests that Nairac was abused as a child, at Ampleforth or anywhere else. Your assertion that abuse occurred at Ampleforth, and Nairac was at Ampleforth (although not at the time of the abuse), and therefore Nairac was abused is typically specious. Even an apprentice in his first week on a local newspaper would know that you can’t get away with that kind of post hoc ergo propter hoc rationalisation. But then, I suspect, such a person would know a lot more about writing than you do.

Robert Nairac was a valiant soldier who died in tragic circumstances, and he and his long-suffering family deserve better than to have individuals like you making prurient, pseudo-psychological claims about his private life. Nor, for your information, do you have the moral right to distort the facts in the interest of your (presumably vanity-published) “novel”.

Following one of the links on this site, I note that you are putting together another masterwork, entitled American Male Prostitute. Might I suggest that you direct a little of that “research” towards yourself, and your own fantasy life?”

Response:
“It is funny, but every comment that does not agree with my view is harsh to a degree of unfairness, and they are usually rude, which indicates to me that the commenter is unable to contribute solid facts that would contradict my writings. The only solution out of their dilemma is plain rudeness. My research on the subject of Robert Nairac, even though he is not the central part of my novel, was thorough, and nobody who ever criticized my research has been able to prove me wrong.

I do encourage comments on my work, may they agree with my view or not, but I will not give in to unsubstantiated opinions.”

April 29, 2010:

Comment:
“Your “research” as you call it, is no more than a rehashing of other men’s work and (usually tendentious) opinions. Anyone who knows anything about this subject would recognise the sensationalist articles, no-check blogs, republican propaganda-pieces, and shameful would-be novelisations that you’ve drawn your conclusions from. There’s nothing remotely original about any of it. It’s not a question of not agreeing with your “view”, because the regurgitation of hearsay and rumour does not constitute a view.

There are two respectable sources on Nairac’s life, namely John Parker’s Death of a Hero and Martin Dillon’s The Dirty War. Both writers employ professional journalistic methodology. They have talked to primary sources, remained personally objective, and where facts cannot be established, they have said so. Learn from them.

Your blundering pseudo-psychology (Freddy Mercury? Elton John? Please) would be harmless if it didn’t involve real people and their families. Can’t you see how offensive your comments are? Are you surprised that people get angry when they see people like you, with their glib, shallow, second-hand opinions, trying to make a fast buck out of these tragic events?”

Response:
“Ray,
I have both books, that of John Parker and Martin Dillon, in my book shelf. I also own “War Without Honour: True Story of Military Intelligence in Northern Ireland” by Fred Holroyd and Nick Burbridge. Other sources I used were English and Irish newspapers.
Let me, for a moment, ignore your insulting tone and ask you: In what way are my comments offensive? I would like to learn your view on gay rights, because your comments point toward a despicable discrimination of homosexuals, and that may be the root of your anger.
Regards,
Wilfried”

Comment:
“You should know that Fred Holroyd’s account of events in NI has long been discredited for more reasons than there are time to go into here.

I have absolutely no problem with gay people or gay rights, and if Nairac was gay (which Martin Dillon suggests, and which many people have believed for some time), then that’s fine by me too. As ever, your pseudo-psychology is a mile wide of the mark.

What I find offensive is your crude fixation with Nairac’s sexuality, and the way you use it to try and generate publicity for yourself and your “novel”. If you can’t see that a headline like “Robert Nairac – Hero, Butcher, Homosexual” is crass and sensationalist, then there’s no more to be said. For your information, no reputable source suggests that Nairac ever “butchered” anyone, and Dillon comprehensively refutes all such claims.”

Response:
“Ray,
I thank you for confirming that my assertion that Nairac was gay is valid. As to the reputation of Fred Holroyd let me state that my research activities do not exclude any sources that may not be pleasing to either side in the conflict. I engage into thorough research and when finished I form an opinion.
You have the right to disagree with my marketing techniques. I only wished you had expressed your concern a bit more to the point and, after all, I wished you kept a professional tone. You should be aware that your accusatory style only damages your credibility.
I consider this matter closed.
Regards,
Wilfried”

The Bleeding Hills - A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

Today, The Guardian reports:

A car bomb exploded last night outside a police station in a Northern Ireland village close to the border with the Irish Republic. The explosion in Newtownhamilton in South Armagh came half an hour before midnight and damaged the building and nearby houses.
:
Senior police sources have recently warned that the threat by dissident republican terrorists is higher than at any time since the Omagh bomb almost 12 years ago.

Read the full article at http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2010/apr/23/northernireland-uksecurity.

More soldiers have died in the South Armagh region than any other part of Northern Ireland. Even today, in peacetime, the South Armagh region is a fertile recruiting ground for the Real IRA, and British soldiers never dare to patrol there on foot.

Earlier this month, on April 12, the Real IRA claimed responsibility for a separate car bomb attack outside MI5′s headquarters in Holywood, but it is now believed that a smaller republican group, Óglaigh na hEireann, was behind the MI5 attack rather than the Real IRA. It seems that Óglaigh na hEireann has a number of experienced ex-Provisional IRA bomb makers within its ranks .

A car bomb exploded early this morning on the outskirts of Belfast, timed to coincide with the transfer of power as the Stormont parliament took over judicial and policing powers at midnight. Northern Ireland now has its first justice minister in nearly four decades.

A spokesman for the Police Service of Northern Ireland said: “A device has exploded in a vehicle at the rear of Palace Barracks, Holywood. The explosion occurred at approximately 12.24am. The investigation in ongoing, and there are no further details at this stage.”

It was reported that one person was injured in the blast.

Read the full article at http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2010/apr/12/northern-ireland-justice-minister-david-ford.

The MI5′s office in Northern Ireland is located in the British Army Palace Barracks in Holywood, on the outskirts of East Belfast. During the high time of the Irish troubles, the Palace Barracks were the site for in-depth interrogation of Republican detainees. There they were beaten and subjected to noise and sleep deprivation. One of the more popular detainees was Gerry Adams, the leader of Sinn Fein, who was arrested and interrogated there in 1972. The official establishment of an MI5 office in Northern Ireland was, and still is, highly controversial.  See also Gerry Adams’ article No room for MI5 in the North.

While any violent act in Northern Ireland these times is a futile attempt of dragging it back to its past, the perpetrators, the Real IRA, tried to make a valid point, even if they chose the most useless means to make that point.

In another article on April 13, 2010, The Guardian reported:

Although no one was killed or seriously injured, the bombing was a highly symbolic attack. The Real IRA chose the MI5 headquarters to make a political point – that Ford and the devolved justice ministry have no control over the British agents stationed there. MI5′s operations are independent of the power-sharing executive in Belfast and are only answerable to the home secretary in London. The security services now play the lead role in counter-terrorism both in Britain and Northern Ireland.

Read the full article at http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2010/apr/13/northern-ireland-justice-minister.

Let me also quote from the previously referenced article by Gerry Adams:

MI5 is a not a new player on the intelligence scene in the six counties. No more than MI6 in the 26 counties.

It is true, British Intelligence Services were instrumental in supporting terrorist acts in the Irish Republic as well as Northern Ireland, and, as I have pointed out in previously published posts, the political system in the United Kingdom has still not managed to take control of MI5 and MI6.

Let me close with a quote by George Bernard Shaw (and that quote is addressed to all sides in the conflict):
If history repeats itself, and the unexpected always happens, how incapable must Man be of learning from experience.

Being “Irish-by-Marriage” (my wife’s grandmother came from the island of Inishbofin off the coast of Galway) and appropriately wearing a wedding band based on a Celtic knot design, plus a Claddagh ring on the right hand, it is inevitable that we occasionally receive the Creative Irish Gifts catalog. And we do – occasionally – order through the catalog.

Unlike other catalog offerings this one supports a very special purpose. The following represents a quote from the catalog:

Creative Irish Gifts was originally founded for the sole purpose of financially supporting the activities of the Irish Children’s Fund, Inc. (ICF). The ICF is a not-for-profit organization that fosters understanding between Protestant and Catholic youngsters in the troubled areas of Belfast. Both non-political and interdenominational, ICF programs include a Teen, Summer and Year Round Program in Northern Ireland that have enriched the lives of over 3,000 children since its founding in 1982.

Summer Program in Northern Ireland

As part of ICF’s reconciliation program, 100 twelve-year olds from segregated Belfast neighborhoods have been selected each year to spend a one month summer holiday in the United States. Represented in equal numbers, these Protestant and Catholic children bear the scars of deep historical hatred. Hosted by American families, the youngsters take part in a wide range of activities, including a summer camp that uses team games to build trust and encourage cooperation. More information about all of the programs of the ICF can be found on www.shopirish.com.

“I commend the vital work of the Irish Children’s Fund at this critical time in our history.”
- Mary McAleese, President of Ireland

To learn more about the program contact:

The Irish Children’s Fund, Inc. at
835 Sheridan Place
Downers Grove, IL 60515
Phone: 630-852-1925
Web: www.icfkids.org

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THE BLEEDING HILLS
A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

I have fought a good fight,
I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith.
- 2 Timothy iv. 7

The Irish War is officially a part of history, but not for Finnean Whelan, an IRA veteran of almost 40 years. British Intelligence has produced evidence that he is the mastermind behind a conspiracy to assassinate the First Minister of Northern Ireland. For Whelan this is not only a mission of revenge, but marks the beginning of a journey into the past and the return to the one true love: Ireland. [More...]

The Bleeding Hills is available at Amazon.Com, Amazon.co.uk, Barnes & Nobel, and any other good bookstore.

The news came in yesterday, March 2nd, 2010. Let me quote from RTE News:

“Former Northern Ireland First Minister Ian Paisley will not seek re-election in the forthcoming general election. The 83-year-old founder and ex-leader of the Democratic Unionist Party is to relinquish the North Antrim seat he first won in 1970. Mr Paisley announced his decision to stand down in his local constituency paper, the Ballymena Guardian.

Famed for his firebrand oratory, Mr Paisley was a founding member of the Free Presbyterian Church in Ireland in 1951. His evangelical theology heavily influenced his political views and throughout the Troubles he forthrightly denounced Catholicism and the papacy.

During the conflict he was a fierce critic of power-sharing with nationalists and of the Republic of Ireland having a say in Northern Ireland’s affairs. But in his later political life, the one-time cheer-leader for hardline unionism underwent somewhat of a political conversion which finally saw him enter office with his long-time enemy, Sinn Féin.

Mr Paisley stood down as First Minister in 2008. He was replaced by his long-time DUP deputy leader, Peter Robinson.”

Ref: http://www.rte.ie/news/2010/0302/nipolitics.html

Ian Richard Kyle Paisley was born on April 6, 1926 in Armagh, County Armagh in Northern Ireland. Even though one of his recent accomplishments was assuming the duty as First Minister of Northern Ireland from May 2007 to June 2008, history will mainly remember him as a militant Protestant leader in a sectarian conflict that divided Northern Ireland. When the conflict gained intensity during the 1960′s Paisley used his ability to combine the language of biblical certainty with that of politics at a time when many Protestants grew increasingly concerned about their constitutional superiority over the Catholic population. His ideological message, a combination of militant anti-Catholicism and militant unionism, and his active involvement in the oppression of the Catholic minority unnecessarily prolonged the Irish Troubles even at times when the people of Northern Ireland became increasingly tired of violence. By the time of the Good Friday Agreement on April 10, 1998, Paisley had already lost touch with the people he claimed to represent, and his election as First Minister of Northern Ireland was more or less a symbolic act to satisfy the remaining radical Protestant elements. He resigned the post after only twelve months, may it be due to his age, or the inability to function as a leader in times of peace. I will never blame anybody for being old, but I will blame anybody who maintains old ideas and ideologies that reflect a blatant inability of learning from experience.

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The Bleeding Hills

A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

I have fought a good fight,
I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith.
- 2 Timothy iv. 7

The Irish War is officially a part of history, but not for Finnean Whelan, an IRA veteran of almost 40 years. British Intelligence has produced evidence that he is the mastermind behind a conspiracy to assassinate the First Minister of Northern Ireland. For Whelan this is not only a mission of revenge, but marks the beginning of a journey into the past and the return to the one true love: Ireland. [More...]

The Bleeding Hills is available at Amazon.Com, Amazon.co.uk, Barnes & Nobel, and any other good bookstore.

Books:

A History of Ireland
by Mike Cronin

Highly recommended! I like that it’s, compared to many other works on Ireland, actually readable and entertaining. If you need a relatively quick overview on the history of Ireland (the tile of the book doesn’t lie!) this is the one I recommend.

The Operators
by James Rennie

To put it in a nut-shell: I hope the author didn’t quit his day job over writing this book. What caught my attention was the sub-title “On the streets with Britain’s most secret service”. Little did I know how immature the writer deals with a serious topic like the Irish Troubles. The book starts with “Standby, standby. Zero, Oscar. I have Bravo 1 foxtrot from Alpha 2 towards Charlie 2″ and it doesn’t get much better from there. Reading this book was a huge waste of my time.

The Irish War
by Tony Geraghty

Here we go again: Another book with misleading title and misleading sub-title, “The hidden conflict between the IRA and British Intelligence”. I have to admit, I found some valuable information here, but I also could not muster to read the book to the end. I am an advocate for intriguing literature, even when it comes to serious issues like the Irish War. However, the writing style is mind-numbingly boring and there is absolutely no visible structure in the book. The author jumps from topic to topic without any visible connection. Until this day I have no clue what drove Mr. Garaghty to write this book.

Secret Hero: The life and mysterious death of Captain Robert Nairac
by John Parker

Yet another really bad book. The life and death of Captain Robert Nairac is one of the most compelling stories related to the Irish troubles, regardless of which side you’re on. That being said, it is a pity, that the author fails to live up to the vast potential of this particular topic, especially considering that he tried to glorify the memory of Captain Nairac – as the title implies.

The Ultras
by Eoin McNamee

This is a novel that is supposed to depict the life of Captain Robet Nairac. I made it to page 8 and gave up. Enough said.

Sorry, I hate to be that negative, but I really do enjoy reading a good book. It seems to me now that there aren’t too many good ones out there, and if they are, they are hard to find. After buying and reading too many bad books on the Irish War I gave up and concentrated on Online resources as listed below.

Online Resources:

14 Company

Bloody Sunday

Bloody Sunday Inquiry

British Army Satellite Equipment

Government of Ireland Act 1920

Inverness County

IRA Actions in 1970s

Irish History

MI5 & MI6

Misc.

Port of Belfast

Real IRA

Robert Bunting

Robert Nairac

SAS

Sean Mac Stiofain

Shannon Airport

St. Patrick Cemetary

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The Bleeding Hills

A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

I have fought a good fight,
I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith.
- 2 Timothy iv. 7

The Irish War is officially a part of history, but not for Finnean Whelan, an IRA veteran of almost 40 years. British Intelligence has produced evidence that he is the mastermind behind a conspiracy to assassinate the First Minister of Northern Ireland. For Whelan this is not only a mission of revenge, but marks the beginning of a journey into the past and the return to the one true love: Ireland. [More...]

The Bleeding Hills is available at Amazon.Com, Amazon.co.uk, Barnes & Nobel, and any other good bookstore.

Published by
Copperhill Media Corporation
158 Log Plain Road
Greenfield, MA 01301

USA

Copyright © 2009 by Copperhill Media Corporation, Greenfield, Massachusetts

Published by
Copperhill Media Corporation
158 Log Plain Road
Greenfield, MA 01301

USA

Copyright © 2009 by Copperhill Media Corporation, Greenfield, Massachusetts

The band had left the small stage in a hurry, not waiting for the applause to subside, tiptoeing through the jungle of cables, microphones, speakers, and instruments, rushing over to the bar at the far end of the pub, yearning for a beer during their well-deserved break. Then, unexpectedly, all remaining lights went out, leaving the room in utter darkness for a fleeting moment until a single beam of light emerged from the ceiling, focusing on the young man they had left behind. He sat in an antique, wooden chair in the center of the stage with his eyes closed and his head down as if meditating. His arms covered his instrument, the Uilleann pipe.

His long, brown hair was neatly parted and bound into a ponytail. The bright Red Sox T-shirt, a tribute to a local passion, was in piercing contrast to his otherwise plain clothing, the dark brown corduroy trousers and black shoes. The small set of bellows was wrapped between his waist and right arm. The three drones – tenor, baritone, and bass – lay across his right thigh. The presence of another set of three regulators, as any expert would notice, revealed the musician’s impressive talent.

Oblivious of his surroundings, the young man did not move, did not attempt to play or even respond to the presence of his audience. After a few calls from several tables, addressed to those in the audience still engaged in whispers and giggles, the room grew quiet and, slowly, the young man came to life, opened his eyes, straightened his posture, and used his right elbow to begin moving the bellows, pumping air into the pipe bag.

Finn had read about the young musician’s exceptional talent and, sitting in a dark corner alone with his drink, unnoticed by most of the patrons, had been waiting expectantly in anticipation of a performance that involved his favorite musical instrument with its sweet tone and the wide range of notes.

The first song was simple and light, yet enchanting, over the constant background of the drones accompanying the tune of the chanter, as is characteristic of the national bagpipe of Ireland.

Finn relaxed, closed his eyes, and let his mind wander, preparing himself for a journey back into time, to a place he had not seen in nearly three decades. Shortly thereafter he saw himself, a boy of fourteen, sitting on the top of a grassy knoll on a bright and warm Sunday morning, the wind swirling his hair, looking down on the Whelan farm in the far distance, so far away that all the sheep appeared like little white dots on a large, colorful painting. The dark blue ocean was quiet, and from where he was sitting, he could even see the beautiful beaches of Inch.

Sunday was his only day off from farm work, and he would spend his time reading, sitting on a rock, or lying in the grass until the daylight faded. Being aware that he might spend hours without food, Mother Whelan would not let him leave without a basket full of homemade brown bread, butter, and milk.

As on every Sunday morning he had been to church, and after Mass, he would spend an hour or two in the priest’s library, where he was offered tea while reading newspapers with passionate intensity, keenly absorbing every little detail. At times the study was supplemented by lessons on Irish history or the current status of the Irish Republic in cases where the young man lacked the background information on the topic about which he was reading.

When he had finished his readings, he had a choice of one book from the library’s extensive selection, which was to be returned the following Sunday. These were usually works by Jonathan Swift, James Joyce, Oscar Wilde, William Butler Yeats, or, on occasion, even English literature such as Winston Churchill’s “The River War.”

“You need to know the enemy’s thinking,” Father Connelly, a stern Republican, assured him on more than one occasion. “The enemy’s greatest mistake is their view – based on downright ignorance, I might say – that the Republican movement is nonexistent.”

Father Connelly was famous for his colorful Sunday night speeches at the local pub where an exclusive group of local farmers, Brendan Whelan being one of them, gathered in the back room to discuss the Irish situation, especially that of Northern Ireland.

The general sense of the discussions was that the violence in Northern Ireland was committed against Republicans, and not, as it should be, by Republicans.

“The Republican movement has no real policies,” Father Connelly once announced during one of his speeches. “We are talking a great deal about fighting for the freedom of Ireland, but we do not succeed. What will it take, what disaster must happen? How many lives will it take before we officially prove our position?”

Finn was only an innocent bystander in those discussions, torn between listening to the heated arguments and the Sunday night sessions at the pub in front. He remembered one night where the party went to a nearby barn, where they inspected a new shipment of Thompson submachine guns, stored in their wooden boxes, oiled and ready for use.

It was the first time in his young life that he had seen such weapons, and at the time he was unable to grasp their use. Ironically, only a few years later he would be an expert with any weaponry, including the legendary AK-47, and there would be no doubt about his understanding of their use and the reasons behind it.

His thoughts were quickly drawn in a different direction as the music turned to another piece in a faster tempo as the musician’s fingers went flying rapidly over the chanter, producing an occasional staccato by working the chanter’s bottom hole with his knee. He was now accompanied by another band member sitting on a white plastic chair to his left, a glass of Guinness positioned on the floor in front of him, lifting the music with his bodhrán, the traditional Irish drum, and creating surprisingly intricate rhythms.

Finn let his mind flow wherever it wanted to take him and after only a few seconds he was a young man of seventeen entering Durty McCarthy’s, a pub near the town of Cahersiveen in the county of Kerry, only a few miles away from the house where his mother had lived. It was late afternoon on a Friday. The pub was packed and filled with smoke, and a session was about to start.

Durty McCarthy’s provided him with reasonable accommodations after a long day’s journey from home. He had learned of his true heritage only a few days before, and he needed to reflect as well as learn more. The events of the preceding days had profoundly changed his life, and little did he know that it was only the beginning. Before that day his life held no print or plan, but that was about to change.

He distinctly remembered the first time he noticed the publican’s daughter Shauna staring at him. She was a beautiful girl with brown hair and green eyes, dressed in a kitchen apron, wearing rubber gloves and rubber boots. Even then, just like it had so many years earlier, his heart raced. The love he felt for Shauna began right then and it had never died.

He remembered her face as a mixture of surprise and immense joy when he asked her to marry him and follow him to live in the Northern provinces, where he would use his skills to fight for the Irish cause. Only a few months later they were married in the large garden behind the McCarthy’s house in the same niche that was now the place of her grave.

Suddenly the musicians turned to a piece of greater complexity and darkness, emphasized by an enigmatic beating of the bodhrán, requiring the highest level of skill and concentration. The young man playing the Uilleann pipe had closed his eyes. His body moved in the rhythm of the music, and his wrists frantically worked the drones and regulators.

Finn began to have visions of bloody bodies leaving bloody traces on the ground as they were drawn away from the view of the shooters, screaming all around him, left and right, from the injured as well as those who tried to help them. He saw people carrying the dead body of a young boy, a priest walking in front of them, waving a white, bloodstained handkerchief at the soldiers with the red berets who, without mercy, kept shooting at them.

Finn squinted his eyes and struggled to fight off the negative images. This was neither the time nor the place for such dark memories. His attempt was defeated by similar images full of screaming and yelling and the deafening sound of continuous shooting. He saw Shauna’s bloody body on the floor. He could not handle the expression of disbelief on her beautiful face while he was struck with shock, trying to find a way to get her out of harm’s way. Still, after all these years, he could clearly feel the intense pain of leaving her and being dragged away from her unconscious body.

He was surprised by the energy it took to fight off the images and force his mind to turn to more pleasant memories.

He finally found himself amid a cold autumn thunderstorm, rolling thunder and lightning in the distance, riding on the pony he had taken from his foster father’s stable in the early morning. There was no money to afford a saddle or reins; he would merely rely on his physical strength and skill. He knew Brendan Whelan would be angry with him, but he also knew the man’s great heart. He would understand and forgive him.

Horse and rider went striding down the hill, eventually reaching the beaches of Inch, where he steered the horse into the shallow waters. He kicked his bare feet into the horse’s flanks and together they went flying over the water. He felt the freezing rain hitting his face and his clothes turning soaking wet, but he didn’t care. He enjoyed the flight through the darkness, the lightning, and the noise.

He clung closer to the horse’s neck, desperately holding on to the mane with both hands.

“C’mon, laddy,” he yelled into the pony’s ear. “You can go faster than that!”

He could feel the animal’s body stretch under him, lengthening the strides.

“Yee-haw!” he screeched, stretching out his left arm with a closed fist high into the dark skies. His exaltation grew with every stride.

He had hoped to make it to the other side of the bay, but all of a sudden he felt his body slip, and his heart started racing. Trying to slow the horse, he adjusted his body into an upright position, and while he tried to use both hands to pull on the mane, he was caught in a massive gust. He felt like he had hit a roadblock. His upper body pushed off the horse, his feet high in the air, both arms stretched wide, he tumbled through the air, and after a less than perfect somersault, landed flat on his back, slumping into the cold and salty water.

There he lay for a few moments, stunned, trying to comprehend what had just happened, and then he burst out into thunderous, unrestrained laughter. He stood up slowly, stiff, pushing one arm into his back, water mixed with sand running from his hair and clothes, and then he limped toward the horse patiently waiting in the distance.

The music ended with the sole voice of the bass drone, gently and gradually subsiding into silence, followed by a thunder of applause. Finn slowly opened his eyes, a smile of satisfaction grew on his face, and in his mind he thanked the young man for bringing back memories of the one true love, Ireland.

He knew he would be back soon. There had been rumors, whispers, and signals that he could not ignore. He did not know when, but it would be soon. He did not know how, but he was willing to comply and finish his course.

The Bleeding Hills
By Wilfried F. Voss

Published by
Copperhill Media Corporation
158 Log Plain Road
Greenfield, MA 01301

USA

Copyright © 2009 by Copperhill Media Corporation, Greenfield, Massachusetts

Chapter 1

The Place I Grew A Man

The man who entered my house shortly before midnight last night was remarkably particular about the information he was to share with me, what was acceptable to write, and, most importantly, what was not.

“It is of paramount importance that you change names and locations,” he told me. “It must be beyond a doubt that your story is based solely on your imagination. Any name, location, or event must be fictional and must not depict any living person or real event in the past or present. There are people dear to me, and I do not want to cause them any harm.”

On the sensitive yet unavoidable subject of the IRA, the Irish Republican Army, he said, “I cannot and will not comment on the operations of the IRA, nor will I admit any affiliation with them. I understand the presence of the IRA plays an essential part in the line of events, but references to them and their activities, as well as those of the British Intelligence services, must be entirely based on your own research.”

“Take some liberties,” he added.

In the same spirit, he had outlined the terms and conditions of this late night meeting in meticulous detail.

“Did you get the tea?” were his first words the moment he entered the kitchen. One of the conditions was the supply of good Irish tea, preferably Barry’s.

“Yes,” I answered. “Everything is in place as requested.”

The kettle stood steaming on top of the gas stove. On the counter beside it, the tin teapot my wife and I had bought in Ireland during our honeymoon was filled with boiling water. There was also a box of loose tea and a spoon. It is important to my Irish-American wife to keep an endless supply of Barry’s tea in the house. According to her Irish-born grandmother, while there is tea, there is hope, and we honor her motto on a daily basis.

“A bottle of Jameson’s,” I said while pointing to the setup on the kitchen table, which included two teacups and a sifter covering one of them.

“Milk and sandwiches, also as requested.”

He was visibly pleased.

“Well, I’ve come to the right place then,” he said with a satisfied smile on his face. “I don’t mean to rush, but let’s not waste valuable time. Put away your notebook and let’s get going. There is a lot to tell and hardly enough time to do it.”

Another condition of our agreement was there would be no written record of this meeting.

“I pray you have a good memory,” he had told me, and I had assured him he could count on it.

The water kettle started whistling.

“May I?” he asked, pointing to the tea, boiling water, and tin-pot.

“Please, be at home.”

He continued with the necessary and familiar procedure of preparing the tea, emptying the hot water from the teapot into the sink, carefully scooping four spoons of tea from the box, one after the other, dropping them into the teapot, and then pouring the boiling water.

There was an awkward but short period of stalled conversation while we waited for the tea to brew for the appropriate two minutes.

Then he finally broke the silence.

“I do apologize for this Interview with the Vampire atmosphere,” he said in a serious manner, “but I swear to the mighty Lord that I am a regular human being with a tight schedule and I have no intentions to bite you…”

“My wife, my kids, and I appreciate that.”

“…though some people in British Intelligence might think I have the supernatural power to disappear one instant and show up the next moment someplace else.”

He took the teapot and the sifter and carefully filled both cups on the kitchen table. I watched curiously as a cautious gush of milk made it into his cup, followed by a generous shot of Jameson.

He looked at me. “Just my version of Irish tea. I hate coffee. How do you like yours?”

“Just plain, please. No additions,” I answered.

“I’m a purist,” I couldn’t help to add. I grinned, but he didn’t seem to notice.

With the teacup in his hand, taking an occasional, cautious sip, he walked back and forth in our small kitchen, deep in thought about how to begin the story he was about to share with me. It also provided me a chance to watch him for a few moments. After all, the memories of our first meeting were a bit blurred.

He was roughly six feet tall. The blond haircut, neatly trimmed to a quarter-inch length, gave him a defined military appearance. The muscular, lean body added to that impression.

Yet, the faint smell of an expensive aftershave and the clean-shaven face emphasized his distinctly gentleman-like features. His clothing was well suited for the cold nights of the New England fall. He wore a vintage chambray shirt under a dark green wool sweater and dark charcoal corduroys. All in all, he would have easily passed as a model for an L.L. Bean catalog.

I guessed his age to be somewhere in the mid-fifties, and even though his hair showed the first signs of gray around the temples, his face had a remarkably boyish look. One could easily imagine what he had looked like in his early twenties. The most striking feature, though, were his pale green eyes.

His voice was clear, and he spoke with a slight Irish accent. His choice of words seemed sometimes Americanized, suggesting to me that he had spent a considerable portion of his life on the American continent. I also had the feeling that he could drop the accent in an instant when the circumstances required it.

I had first met him in the Boston region less than two weeks ago. Initially I thought we had met just by chance. In retrospect, I am not so sure anymore if our first encounter was pure coincidence, or, more likely, that he was specifically looking for someone like me.

I had won fifth place in a short story writing contest. The prize did not include any money, just a lousy book on marketing a novel plus free access to a writers’ conference in Westborough, just outside of Boston. The trip to Boston was not a tremendous thrill since we lived in Dublin, New Hampshire, only two hours away by car.

Before we bought our house we had looked at a much larger property in Vermont for almost the same price, but my wife could not resist the temptation of living in Dublin.

At the conference I had the opportunity to meet other writers and, more importantly, publishers. Writing short stories doesn’t make a living, and I was on the search for material to write a novel of some sort. At that time, I was officially enduring a writer’s block.

The question of how exactly a publisher would be of any help in such a hopeless situation must remain unanswered. They are not interested in mere talent or brilliant ideas and the odds are discouraging, even if you are able to present a written work. The fellow authors I met, including the wannabes, were just full of themselves, and I began to question their view of real life on planet Earth. By the end of the day, I wasn’t one iota closer to a book deal than I was when I arrived.

It was time to drown my disappointment in a few beers. Fortunately the Marriott, where my wife had made reservations for me, had an Irish pub by the name of “Fitzwilliam’s.” It was a crowded place, but I conquered one of the few empty stools at the bar, discovered they had Smithwick’s on tap, and ordered Bangers ‘n Mash from the menu. Bob the bartender was very able. He was of Asian descent and he had a nametag attached to his black vest. I never had to endure an empty glass, which gradually improved not only my mood, but even invoked a rarely encountered eagerness to mingle in a place far away from home and family.

The memories of that night remain vague. After drinking more beers than I can usually handle, I don’t exactly recall the details of how I got into the conversation with an Irish lad. I remember telling him about the day’s misery and he turned out to be a devoted listener. When we parted, he mentioned he might have a true story for me and that he would call me, but the next morning I was convinced that it was all part of an alcohol-induced dream mixed with wishful thinking.

A few days later when he called, I realized it had not been a dream. We talked for about half an hour during which he laid out his terms and conditions. I agreed willingly because he had aroused my curiosity. After all, drunk or not, I never give away my home address or phone number to strangers.

I was cautious and thought about sending my wife and kids to my in-laws the day we would meet again. As if reading my mind, he insisted, “I’d prefer this to be a private meeting, just you and I.”

Several days later I received another, much shorter phone call to set up the exact meeting date and time. A female voice, with what was most probably an Irish accent, told me there was fresh lobster for sale at the Boston Harbor fish market tomorrow night.

“The best time for pick-up is between 23:30 hours and midnight,” she said. There was no time to respond or ask questions. She hung up immediately after she had delivered the message. No good-bye. Nothing.

I am not sure if a venue like the Boston Harbor fish market in fact exists. It very well may, but for the purpose of setting up the meeting it didn’t matter.

Nevertheless, there I was, alone with my mysterious friend who had suddenly stopped the pacing and spoke without looking at me.

“My name is Finnean Michael Whelan. I was born in the Republic of Ireland on a farm near Annascaul on the Dingle Peninsula in the year of The Lord 1952. For nearly forty years, I was involved in what some people call an unnecessary war. Respectfully, I disagree.”

Then he turned toward me. “But I am not here to make political statements. I have fought my fight, and I have finished my course. I leave it to the politicians to finish what began a long time ago, and I am not one of them. I am here to make a final statement, in memory of the lads who laughed with me, to sing of their deeds and praise them while I can.”

He noticed my confusion. “Bear with me,” he said.

“I am also the direct product of a conflict that has lasted for several hundreds of years,” he continued. “My mother was raped by a constable of the RUC when she was visiting her parents in Derry, in Northern Island. You know about the RUC?”

I nodded, “Yes.”

The Royal Ulster Constabulary, the official police force in Northern Ireland between 1922 and 2001, has repeatedly been accused of following a shoot-to-kill policy. Suspects were deliberately killed without intent or attempt to arrest them. The list of accusations is long, including one-sided policing and discrimination directed against the Catholic minority.

Although the RUC was officially dissolved in 2001, the only real transformation was a name change to Police Service of Northern Ireland, as if a different name could ever clear their responsibility for past wrongdoing.

“As I said, the rape and thus my birth made me a direct result of the conflict,” he continued. “While my mother was dark-haired, I was born with a full set of blond hair, which explains my first name. Finnean is Gaelic and it means fair-haired.”

He took yet another sip from the cup and started pacing again while he resumed his monologue.

“My actions in a younger life, during the period known as ‘The Troubles’, have caused the deaths of many people, most of them Protestants, some of them Catholic, and the Catholics I killed were traitors. They deserved to die for their treason, and I pray they burn in hell where I may join them. There it will be my pleasure to increase their pain. However, still, I do hope, when the time comes, I will meet St. Peter at heaven’s gate, and he will say, ‘Hey, Finn, what took you so long?’”

Again, he stopped and looked at me, “Well, you know the saying about the Irish coming to heaven?”

It took me only a second to think about the answer. “May you arrive in heaven five minutes before the devil knows you’re dead?”

“Yes, that’s the one. So, St. Peter would tell me, ‘The devil – you knew her as Margaret Thatcher – has sent her most ruthless servant, Ian Paisley, to come after you. Do I feel a draft here? You’d best come in quickly and let’s close the gate.’ ”

He turned toward the kitchen door and yelled, “Sorry, Ian! It was getting just a bit chilly here and with today’s energy costs, you know… Have a nice death!”

For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to spit at the door. Then realized where he was, and, remembering his polite manners, showed respect to his host’s courtesy.

I couldn’t help but comment. “But Ian Paisley was the First Minister of Northern Island.”

He looked straight at me with a mirthless smile. “And Margaret Thatcher was Prime Minister of Great Britain. A great man, whose name escapes me at this very moment, once said that freedom is the right to be wrong, but not to do wrong. Both have committed a great deal of wrongdoing in the name of freedom.”

He shook his head. “Nevertheless, enough about politics. As I said, politics are not my strong suit. I leave that to people like Gerry Adams and Martin McGuiness. Not that I agree with either one of them, but it looks as if talking counts more than fighting these days.”

He noticed our empty cups, and he went for the teapot, filled both cups carefully, and added milk and Jameson for himself.

“Well, back to my story,” he said. He picked up his cup, wrapped his hands around it, and resumed his pacing.

“The place I grew a man was the farm of Brendan and Mary Whelan. My mother spent most of her pregnancy at their place. The rest of her family was told that she was taking care of a distant cousin who was sick. After she gave birth to me, she went back home to her family in Cahersiveen, in the county of Kerry.

“I was officially declared an orphan, and the Whelans were assigned as my foster parents. They were good people, and they treated me well. My mother’s husband had provided the financial means to help them raise me properly.

“He also left strict instructions that they were not allowed to reveal my true identity and they had to maintain that my parents had died in a car accident. They kept their side of the deal until their very deaths, and even after I was confronted with the truth, I never told them I knew.”

It seemed he had sunken into memories of his childhood days as he closed his eyes for a few moments, and then he just stood there with his head slightly bent downward.

I sat at the kitchen table enjoying a delicious cup of tea and listening to my new friend. I had to admit that the man taking his strides back and forth in my kitchen had already managed to fascinate me a great deal. At that very moment, slowly and surely, I began to realize with delight that I was only at the beginning of an adventure tour into another time and dimension, and I already enjoyed the ride.

I also had questions on my mind, and I deemed this was the right time to throw in the most burning of them.

“Did you ever meet your mother?” I asked him.

It appeared I had interrupted his thoughts, and he didn’t answer immediately. He shook his head.

“No,” he answered very calmly. “She was already dead when I found out. I have only a photo of her, which is now in a safe place. I don’t carry it with me. It was given to me by someone special to me.”

“Who was that?” I asked.

“My brother,” he said.

The Bleeding Hills - A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

January 30th marks an anniversary in recent Irish history that most people living outside of Ireland and the Northern Provinces recognize only through a famous U2 song, Sunday Bloody Sunday. Unfortunately, the song is still misinterpreted as a “rebel song.” Nothing could be further from the truth. The band was aware of the controversial nature of Sunday Bloody Sunday, that its lyrics might be misinterpreted as sectarian, and possibly jeopardize their personal lives. Some of The Edge’s original lyrics explicitly spoke out against violent rebels, but were omitted in order to protect the group. The result is a song with virtually null relevance – other than its title – to the events of Bloody Sunday, and, in all consequence, U2 should have taken the efforts to find a different title for an otherwise extraordinary anti-violence song.

What happened in Londonderry on January 30th, 1972 went far beyond violence, and the song does not recognize the real issue at hand, the oppression of the Catholic minority living in Northern Ireland. Carmen de Monteflores once said, “Oppression can only survive through silence,” and while I applaud U2‘s campaign for anti-violence in Northern Ireland, I fail to see how the oppression would have ended without the war that followed after Bloody Sunday. On that day, members of the 1st Battalion of the British Parachute Regiment shot twenty-six demonstrators. Thirteen people, six of whom were just seventeen years old, died at the scene, with five of those wounded shot in the back. To this day there is no evidence that any of the demonstrators were armed.

Northern Ireland, during 1950s, 1960s 1970s, and beyond, was a place at odds with the rest of the civilized Western world. The pride of defeating Nazi Germany was still remarkably alive in the United Kingdom and fighting Communism had become the prime directive. However, in contrast to the self-proclaimed image of defender of the free world, their halo paled as they turned a blind eye on the oppression of the Catholic population in Northern Ireland. Northern Ireland was a place where the treatment of the Catholic minority came with the foul stench of Kristallnacht, the night when the Nazis coordinated an attack on the Jewish community in Germany as part of Hitler’s anti-Semitic policy. Most certainly, in the history of mankind there has been no greater crime against humanity than the Holocaust, but the question is, has Kristallnacht ended with the defeat of Nazi Germany? Did the world get a false sense of security?

The British occupation of the Irish island began as early as the late twelfth century, and attempts to annihilate the Irish identity fill the history of English rule. Some of these attempts carry a striking resemblance to Hitler’s henchmen trying to eliminate the Jewish population in Germany, although not quite as methodical. History is also filled with constant acts of Irish resistance, and no ruling king or parliament was ever able to solve the problem. The saying is that the nineteenth century Prime Minister William Edward Gladstone tried to deal with the Irish question, but never found the answer as the Irish continued to change the question.

December 1921 saw the signing of the Articles of Agreement for a Treaty between Great Britain and Ireland, which established a free Irish republic with jurisdiction over twenty-six of the thirty-two counties. It also created the separate province of Northern Ireland that remained under British rule. It consists of the six northeastern counties of the predominantly Protestant Ulster region.

The terms, as negotiated by the founder of the IRA, Michael Collins, did not find the approval of the entire Irish population and, even though the Republic of Ireland was officially established, the battle for Irish reunification began. The importance of the IRA, though, endured a slow, but steady decline until the late 1960s, which saw increased confrontations between the Civil Rights movement in Northern Ireland and British officials, especially the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC).

The Civil Rights movement’s demand was, just to name one particular issue, for equal voting rights. The current system allowed only house owners to vote in local elections, and they were predominantly Protestants supporting British rule in Northern Ireland. The Protestant majority defended their superiority by engaging their own militias against Catholics, and they were actively supported by the predominantly Protestant RUC.

By the summer of 1969, these disputes reached the dimensions of an outright Civil War, and in August of 1969 the British government deployed troops to Northern Ireland with the intent to restore public order. “Operation Banner” ended at midnight on July 31, 2007, thirty-eight years later, instead of the planned “few months,” and it represents the longest deployment in the history of the British Army. The death toll included more than 3500 civilians and 763 soldiers.

In 2008, General Michael Jackson, the British Army Chief, called Operation Banner a successful combat. Nothing could be further from the truth. The English army became part of the problem very quickly, and they turned out to be another player in the conflict, not a referee.

Initially, the Catholic population welcomed the presence of the army in the hope they would serve as a neutral force and protect them against the RUC and Loyalist forces. However, their hopes were shattered in July 1970 during a British operation called “Falls Curfew,” which resulted in three days of rioting and battles between the British Army and Irish Republican paramilitaries. In the final tally, five people were killed, and three hundred were arrested.

The streets of Londonderry endured a long line of events filled with violence and the rage among the Catholic population turned not only into increased support for the IRA. They expressed their anger in a series of protest marches. One of these marches took place in Londonderry on January 30, 1972. That day was seared into the memories of the Irish people as Bloody Sunday.

The Civil Rights Organization of Northern Ireland had contacted the RUC’s Chief Superintendent, Frank Lagan, to inform him of their intention to hold a non-violent demonstration and to protest against internment without charge or trial. The internment, officially named “Operation Demetrius,” allowed the RUC and the British Army to detain suspects without justification. Lagan, in turn, notified the British Army and requested they keep away any military interference, a wise recommendation and, if followed, could have prevented the bloody events. The army, however, turned down before, was eager to prove that their well-rehearsed plan would put an end to the riots in Northern Ireland.

Just a week before Bloody Sunday, at an anti-internment march held at Magilligan Strand, British soldiers beat a number of protesters with such an intensity that their own officers had to physically restrain them. An attack on the patrol car of two RUC officers resulted in their deaths the Thursday before Bloody Sunday at Creggan Road. Nevertheless, the organizers of the Sunday march, the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association, had called for a peaceful march. They tried everything to prevent a repeat of the events at Magilligan Strand.

The march started almost an hour late from Central Drive in the Creggan Estate and proceeded toward the Bogside area of Derry. The official report, produced only a few weeks later by the Widgery tribunal, tried to downplay the magnitude of the march and gave an estimated number of somewhere between 3,000 and 5,000, while organizers claimed a number as high as 20,000. The correct figure was likely somewhere in between.

The organizers had intended to direct the march toward the town’s guildhall and hold a meeting there, but British military units had erected a number of barriers at strategic spots to seal the demonstration in the Bogside area away from the guildhall. They had also positioned a large number of snipers at strategic points around the perimeter of the Bogside area.

The barriers, the snipers, the stone throwing that followed, and the verbal abuse – all this was as familiar territory for the demonstrators as it was for the soldiers, who were very well protected in their anti-riot gear. The marchers did not suspect that the army’s reaction would be somewhere out of the ordinary. Maybe they would see some rubber bullets fired at them, maybe some gas, and then they would proceed to their meeting with the feeling they had fought well for their cause.

The exact details of the British Army’s reasoning for their attack are still, more than 30 years after the fact, under investigation. The fact is that the British Army engaged into a massive combat operation. Armored cars raced through the streets at a speed of forty miles per hour, thrashing through a horrified crowd. This was not a spontaneous response to a violent provocation, this was a well-rehearsed military operation. The soldiers that jumped out of the armored cars were paratroopers not wearing the usual anti-riot gear. Instead, they were wearing full combat gear. They took their strategic positions quickly and precisely and then they started shooting, using their fire-and-movement tactic as if they were fighting another army.

The only possible explanation for the army’s savage attack is that they believed they had effectively provoked an encounter with IRA forces. That was evidently not the case. Regardless of whether or not the attack was initiated on grounds of an erroneous interpretation of the circumstances or a more sinister plan, they were not able to recall their forces. Once a bloodhound smells blood, he is impossible to stop.

At the end of the riots, members of the 1st Battalion of the British Parachute Regiment had shot twenty-six civil rights protesters. Thirteen people, six of whom were just seventeen years old, died at the scene. Five of those wounded were shot in the back. After the shooting ended the army continued with collecting the dead and wounded, lining up demonstrators against walls, searching, and abusing them.

The Army Headquarters in Northern Ireland dealt with the following media inquiries particularly badly and defensively. The British Army Chief, Major General Robert Ford, just as useless as his fellow officers seeking to explain the firings, claimed his soldiers had only fired at IRA snipers and grenade-throwers, which turned out to be a blatant fabrication.

The question is, what was so different, so significant about Bloody Sunday? There had been rioting before, and people were killed. While that is true, the events of Bloody Sunday manifested a magnitude that was beyond anything that had happened before in Londonderry. Until Bloody Sunday, there was only a struggle for civil rights. There were riots, but the killing of people was a disturbing exception. After Bloody Sunday, it was outright war.

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The Bleeding Hills - A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

Sigerson Clifford was an Irish poet and playwright. I took a line from his poem The Boys of Barr Na Sraide, the line that goes “And when the hills were bleeding and rifles were aflame…”, to use it as the title for my book “The Bleeding Hills“. The research for my also revealed that there is not a lot of information available that would describe the person Sigerson Clifford in more detail, and that is the reason I created a web site in the hope that people all over the world find it and possibly add more data.

Sigerson Clifford (1913 – 1985)

Clifford was born at #11 Dean St, Cork City, and was christened Edward Bernard Clifford. His parents, Michael Clifford and Mary Anne Sigerson, were from County Kerry, and they returned there in the following year, to Cahersiveen, where he was raised on the Ring of Kerry. He attended the Christian Brothers school in that town.

At the age of six, he went to live with his paternal grandfather, Ned Clifford, on the Old Road in the town. Ned was a gifted storyteller, and his influence encouraged Eddie to write poems and stories while at school. As a writer, he adopted the first name Sigerson in honour of his maternal family, although he continued to be known as “Eddie” to family and friends. At nineteen, after finishing secondary school, he joined the Civil Service, and worked for several years in unemployment exchanges in Cork and Kerry. In 1943 he moved to Dublin.

In 1945 he married Marie Eady from Cork. Clifford continued to write, but he did not leave work, and retired from the Civil Service in 1973.

Sigerson Clifford died in Glenageary, County Dublin on 1 January 1985, aged 71, and was interred in Kilnavarnogue Cemetery in his native Cahersiveen, with a graveside oration by his fellow Kerry author and playwright, John B Keane. A monument in memory of Sigerson Clifford is located in Cahersiveen.

Clifford wrote a number of poems and plays, including The Great Pacificator, which was staged at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, in 1947. Clifford is best remembered for his poem, The Boys of Barr na Sráide, which was named after a street in Cahersiveen. The poem recalls the life of his boyhood friends starting from when they were young children through to the Black and Tan period, and up to the civil war. The poem speaks of the Irish tradition of “hunting for the wran” (wren), a small bird, on St. Stephen’s Day, 26 December. Later set to music, the song has been recorded by numerous traditional and folk singers including Christy Moore and Tim Dennehy.

Contribute to the Sigerson Clifford web site

If you can contribute any information on the life and work of Sigerson Clifford please have a look at the web site I created to honor his life and work. Unfortunately, there is not a great deal of information on Sigerson Clifford, and I would love to show photos and a more detailed biography.

The web site is located at SigersonClifford.com.

]]> http://frogenyozurt.com/2009/11/sigerson-clifford-1913-1985/feed/ 0 http://frogenyozurt.com/2009/10/a-writers-lament/ http://frogenyozurt.com/2009/10/a-writers-lament/#comments Fri, 30 Oct 2009 16:25:38 +0000 Editor http://www.frogenyozurt.com/?p=837 Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.
- Soren Kierkegaard

The Bleeding Hills - A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

As a writer you cannot only expect praise for your work, but also criticism. That is just human nature. I have learned to live with criticism, and, knowing that I am not the ultimate source of all wisdom, I am willing to listen and learn as long as the criticism is constructive. The situation becomes very difficult, however, when your writing hurts the feeling of a person, and that person accuses you of false reflection of a certain event or person through means of superficial research.

That is exactly what happened to me a few days ago. Two of my entries on my blog got the attention of Natalie, who apparently lives in the United Kingdom. She responded to my blog entry Robert Nairac – Hero, Butcher, Homosexual…? as follows:

“I would be very interested in talking to you! You seem to have a cavalier approach to researching for your book and make extremely tenuous links.

I can state quite catagorically that Julian ‘Tony’ Ball was not psychotic and did not take drugs. Though he did bite his nails, this is a family trait.

Robert came from a very loving middle-class family who would be mortified to read you diatribe. He was not gay and if he was he would have been able to face it in the same way as he faced his life and death, with style and dignity.”

You can see her comment and my answer at the bottom of the entry. She left another, similar remark at the entry  Robert Nairac – Supplement to previous entry. We also initiated a brief communication through Facebook (see my Facebook reference to the right hand side of the screen), and I found out that Julian Ball was her father. After a few exchanges we decided that we both had made our points and to leave it at that.

Even though I felt sure that the research for my novel was meticulous, it leaves a bitter aftertaste when you hurt the feelings of somebody with something you wrote, and, naturally, doubt arises. As a result, I spent all of yesterday and this morning – starting at 5:30 am – with further research on the subject of Julian Ball and Robert Nairac. Without going into details – it doesn’t make sense to drag this matter on and on – I was relieved to find that my research was not flawed. Let me also state that my references to Julian Ball and Robert Nairac in my novel add only one small aspect to the Irish troubles as it takes place in my novel.

I will follow Natalie’s advice and I will read ‘Big Boy’s Rules‘ by Mark L. Urban, a book exploring covert operations against the IRA from the mid-1970s to the Loughgall shooting in 1987. I did, however, take the liberty of adding a highly controversial book to my reading list, ‘War Without Honour: True Story of Military Intelligence in Northern Ireland‘ by Fred Holroyd and Nick Burbridge.

Interesting enough, but both books were hard to come by and seem to be out of print. I managed to buy used copies through Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk. I will follow up on my readings by writing reviews on this blog.

]]> http://frogenyozurt.com/2009/10/a-writers-lament/feed/ 0 http://frogenyozurt.com/2009/09/its-scarybut-were-finally-publishing/ http://frogenyozurt.com/2009/09/its-scarybut-were-finally-publishing/#comments Sun, 06 Sep 2009 13:40:54 +0000 Editor http://www.frogenyozurt.com/?p=500

The Bleeding Hills - A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

As of today I have finished the last revision of my novel, The Bleeding Hills. The document is converted into a PDF, as is the cover. We’re ready to upload the files to LightningSource.com, an Ingram Books service. Monday is Labor Day, but they will work on the files by Tuesday, and I might receive the proof copy by the end of the week or early the week after. It really goes that fast. As soon as I approve, it will take only a few days for the Amazon.com listing. Amazon is usually faster than other Online sellers, but these other sellers – including Barnes & Noble – will follow soon. It’s time to get my well-prepared marketing plan into work.

I had my last draft reviewed by a professional Online editing service (http://www.firstediting.com), which did cost me a little over $600. Naturally, I had to go through their changes and check for consistency. I cannot stress enough the importance of having your work revised by a professional editing service, but I also have to say that I was a bit disappointed by the end result. The person, who revised my draft, did a great job in most instances to improve the readability, but she also made some changes to improve sentence structures that conflicted with my story line.

What I learned during this process, is to listen to the expert, but to make the final decision myself. In some cases the expert made changes that made me realize that a change was indeed necessary, but, ultimately, I changed it differently to preserve the consistency of my story line.

There were also “bad” changes, but they were usually based on lack of knowledge of the topic I wrote about. For instance, I referred to the Uilleann pipe as “the national bagpipe of Ireland”, and that statement is indisputable, unless you are not familiar with the topic. The editor changed it to “the bagpipe, the national instrument of Ireland”, which is not correct. The Uilleann pipe is a special type of bagpipe, but it is also so very different than a bagpipe.

Another good change to the better was to use italic fonts to differentiate between speech and thought. However, the editor was not consistent enough to change all thought sentences into italic font. Not a biggy, but it shows that the final responsibility lies with the author.

So, after revising all changes – and approving 99% of them – I revised it twice again and actually found some minor, self-inflicted inconsistencies in the story line. They are corrected now, and I have to say, I am quite pleased with the result. Being my worst critic, that means something.

I am, nevertheless, paranoid. I will read the proof copy carefully and I am not afraid to delay publication in the unlikely case I should find any minor flaw. I was looking forward to publishing the novel, but it’s also scary and somewhat saddening. Scary, because of being paranoid, and saddened, because I have been separated from my “baby”.

It’s time to concentrate on my next novel. As I wrote before, I have more ideas for books – the next two novels are already “brewing” in my brain – but I don’t want to follow the example of a John Grisham or Stephen King and being tied to a single genre of fiction writing. The next novel, The Fellow Utopian, is on a totally different topic – Immigration – and I will keep it that way. However, the thought of writing a sequel to The Bleeding Hills is very tempting, and I may change my mind…

Supplement, September 22, 2009:

As of today, The Bleeding Hills is listed on Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.

The Bleeding Hills - A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

Well, as of today I have submitted my first novel to a professional editing service. My last entry was on July 10, 2009 at which time I was sure I was shortly before publishing. However, I decided to run yet another editing process, and I believe it was well worth the efforts. Since my first draft I had added roughly 10,000 words and another run was necessary. I like the result and, believe me, I am my worst critic. I am counting on the professional editing service to add a little cream on top of the pie.

The editing process will take between 10 to 14 days which will put us into mid of September. The cover design is done and the next step will be going through the changes made by the editor. The submitting and approval process with LightningSource (our printer/distributor) will take another week. My hope is that, provided there are no major problems, the book will be available for sale by end of September.

As of today I also felt some kind of emptiness, that there was nothing more to do about my first novel. However, as every aspiring author should know: The real work begins as soon as you have finished the writing. As soon as the book is actually published I need to promote the hell out of it. My marketing strategy is mainly based on press releases; some of them are free, others I will need to pay for. I will also place Online ads in some selected places. Without going into more details, but there is work to be done.

The other task is to start my next novel, which is actually my first one. I had the idea before The Bleeding Hills, but – as I wrote in my very first blog entry – I wrote The Bleeding Hills mainly to gain experience in the novel writing process and I can say with the utmost confidence that I have learned a lot. However, this statement should not undermine the importance of The Bleeding Hills to me. Yes, this was supposed a mere test project, but I can now say  that I thoroughly enjoyed working on it, and that I am very proud of the result.

I will continue writing about my projects on this blog, i.e. my next novel. I have already outlined roughly 90% of the story line, and I am looking forward to dive into another writing adventure.

The Bleeding Hills - A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

I am very close to publishing my first novel, The Bleeding Hills. The actual writing is done, and we are currently going through the consistency test, before we pass the novel to a professional editor. In the meantime I feel compelled to share some experiences I made during the writing process.

I found the above quote in the last issue of “Poets & Writers”; it was part of the first article in this magazine that I actually read in full. It is an unfortunate fact that most writers’ magazines, and especially web sites, are filled with a mind-boggling large amount of superficial information and self-indulgence. The persona of Jonathan Galassi, however, made reading this particular article a joyful experience.

Mr. Galassi possesses a passion for writers and their works that should be an example for every agent, editor, and publisher, especially those who, as part of their business policy, strictly reject author submissions that don’t follow their submission guidelines (i.e. applying the proper font, etc.). I am thinking of those impassive people who turned down first-time authors like – just to name one extraordinary example – Stephenie Meyer and her “Twilight” novel.

In addition, Mr. Galassi, while melancholically favoring the traditional publishing system, realizes the potential of modern-day publishing technologies. All those writers’ magazines, web sites, blogs, and forums I read merely concentrate on the traditional process (Looking for an agent, finding a publisher), that will take a promising author years before his/her work reaches the potential reader. Well, this last statement is not quite correct; most writers’ magazines and web sites do promote self-publishing, but they also shamelessly provide a ton of ad space for all those sharks who will gladly take your money (Several thousands of Dollars is not an unusual amount) for a very remote chance for sales success.

Another misconception, promoted by the traditional system and their disciples, is that, once you are published, you are a member of a very exclusive club. Accomplished authors obtain the right to look down on all wannabes, and if they feel the urge for charity, they offer their advice on writers’ Online forums. One of the experiences I made during writing my first novel was to stay away from Online forums. I did my share by posting comments that – quite coincidently – included references to my blog, but I quickly learned they have no impact on “building a platform”. “Building a platform”, i.e. increasing the awareness of your persona, is widely recommended to increase your chances for publication and increase your sales numbers once you are published. The harsh reality is, considering the vast amount of forums and blogs these days, blog/forum entries have a tremendously small impact on your success as a writer.

Actually, the process is reversed. I deem the existence of an author’s blog as mandatory, but the only way to drive traffic to your blog is to write and publish a good book. I see my blog frogenyozurt.com as a supplement to my writings, right now for my first novel The Bleeding Hills, and later, of course, for everything that follows. The intention is to add value by describing the writing process, and sharing all discoveries.

When I started posting entries on a particular writers’ forum I even received a bashing from accomplished authors regarding my approach. First, there is my cocky attitude, that I refuse to waste years of waiting for approval of my novel, and thus decided to self-publish (Actually, I am a business man and I run my own micro-publishing business). This probably felt like a slap in the face of everybody who went through the process the traditional way. Secondly, and this is another lesson I learned, I should not bother publishing my novel unless I am sure it sells at least 10,000 copies. This has to do with yet another aspect of writing a novel, and it really does not apply to me: You write to become famous… well, rich and famous, but famous also means you become a member of this exclusive club…

I rather refer to Groucho Marx who once said, “I don’t care to belong to any club that will have me as a member.” Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to become rich just like the other guy, and I will be grateful for every copy of my novel I can sell, but my motivation is not fame or  a vast sales success. On the other hand I do not write for not being published, and I do have the means to publish, so why not use them.

My main motivation is the actual writing, and the new discoveries that come with the research of the topic. The Bleeding Hills was created, because I was curious about the events of Bloody Sunday, and, while I do not consider myself an expert on the Irish Troubles, I have learned a great deal about them. It is also fascinating to watch the development of a story. As a writer you start with a scaffold before building the walls, followed by careful, time-consuming interior design. It is fascinating to watch all the unexpected little twists and turns that your mind creates while you work on the details. Basically, writing a novel is the kind of experience I thoroughly enjoy.

In the same sense, considerations like sales success or fame do not play any role when I select the topics of my writings. My first novel, The Bleeding Hills, gained relevance due to recent terrorist attacks in Northern Ireland, but that was pure coincidence – a strike of luck if you want. My next novel – which is actually the first, since I started writing it before The Bleeding Hills – will refer to US immigration, a topic with which I have some personal experiences, but it also comes up as a political topic every so many years.

In the before-mentioned Online forums I read the entries of a vast number of primarily very young writers who try to follow the mainstream by writing vampire novels a la “Twilight” by Stephenie Meyer. A similar development could be seen after the publication of Dan Brown’s “The Da Vinci Code” when a great number of authors discovered the opportunity to squeeze more money out of a popular theme. I try to be a bit more original, but I am still tempted to write “The Monty Python Code”.

Well, it’s done! As of today I have finished my first novel… But wait! In all truth, the real work starts now. This first draft – and that’s all it is – is roughly 48,000 words long. The bare minimum is 60,000. Also, according to the size I will use (5.5″ x 8.5″) the book would only be 153 pages thick. I had envisioned around 300 pages to make it worth-while for the reader. It is time to add more substance.

My Favorite Short Story

Let me explain the process by referring to my favorite, yet unwritten, short story titled “The Duel”.

The German Version

First, there is what I call the German version, short, precise and to the point:

He saw him.
He shot him.
He left.

Not very satisfying, is it?

The English Non-Fiction Version

After reading a bunch of worthless books on the Irish Troubles, written by English journalists full of themselves, I have come up with the English non-fiction version:

It has been stipulated, the person, we will refer to as “A”, besides his detestable reflection, had demonstrated some abominable behavioral patterns prior to the confrontation with the subject we will refer to as “B”. One is reminded of the MKRF report – the findings of that report have  also been adopted by the RTAK, an organization whose services have on occasion exploited by the British Defense Ministry, in 1999 – recognising spectacular similarities to the event in question. While bloodshed was not a preferred choice of reconciliation, it was nevertheless the most effective – as was substantiated by research activities at the UKIMA, the United Kingdom Institute for Military Absurdity in 2002. The elimination of “B” is widely considered a logical consequence of the conflict and it was accomplished in full accordance to the 1875 Treaty of Thurtherthon, Wales, which specifically outlaws coercive exercise during tea time.

If you are into this kind of style – without the humor, though – you may enjoy the following two excellent examples:

The Irish War: The Hidden Conflict between the IRA and British Intelligence by Tony Geraghty
Secret Hero: The Life and Mysterious Death of Captain Robert Nairac by John Parker

I consider reading – and consequently the writing – of either one of these books a terrible waste of time.

The American “Crime Noir” Version

Giordano Mozzarella took shelter from the falling rain at the corner of 5th and 6th Street. Once under his shelter he watched the New York rush hour traffic crawling by, waiting for his target to arrive. Mozzarella was not a handsome man. In fact, he had a face that only a mother could love. Unfortunate for Mozzarella, his mother didn’t love him. In an erratic decision earlier in her life she had refused to have more children who might turn out like him. He had tried hard to please her, but she still couldn’t find it in her heart to love him and he wondered why. Suddenly he recognized the man in a long trench coat walking towards his position next to “Yakov’s Butchery”. Mozzarella quickly took care of his running nose by pressing his finger on his left nostril, and forcefully pushing the gunk through the other into the falling rain. He checked his wrist watch, assuring it was past tea time. The Brits would have no reason to complain about his timing. Mozzarella was not a man of many words, maybe because he was mute, and when the man in the trench coat walked by him, he simply raised the 90 mm Glock and pulled the trigger. “Gotcha,” he thought. For several minutes he just stood there, watching the man die, then he checked his watch again and decided it was time to go home. Maybe this time his mother would be proud of him, now that he had killed the man from the Internal Revenue Service.

Needless to say that neither of these versions will be applied to my novel…

The Bleeding Hills - A Novel by Wilfried F. Voss

I would like to follow up on my entry “Robert Nairac – Hero, Butcher, Homosexual…?“:

The research on Captain Robert Nairac continues and I have found some more, interesting references. One is a blog, where I, among a mind-boggling large number of blubberings, found one entry referring to Robert Nairac as being gay. More interesting than the claim – which, in this specific case, was without any substance – was an alternative explanation of irrational behavior by British soldiers: “…watched a program a few months ago on the psychological stress of combat etc in the British army, and other issues such as mistreatment, bullying etc. Turns out of any regiment in the british army the SAS have the highest suicide rate according to the Psychiatrist in the program. He has raised this issue thru his MP with the UK MOD and they would not comment, classified information etc.”

The second reference (An article in the Sunday Mirror – June 10, 2001) is about a woman falsely claiming that Captain Robert Nairac fathered her son. This article openly addresses Nairac’s homosexuality, for instance, “…those who knew Nairac from his days working in south Armagh said the Grenadier Guards captain was known to be gay. “We all knew Nairac was a homo-sexual. He was having a relationship with a member of the Armed Forces in one of the camps,” said a former soldier last week.”

At this point I am satisfied with the view that my suspicion, that Nairac may have been gay and/or the victim of sexual abuse during childhood, is not without substance. I take the research for my novel seriously, and while I do have the liberty of “distorting the facts”, I wouldn’t want to include claims just based on a hunch.