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graveyard, one moving, the other down and watching. Working in pairs. The buddy system. Headstones stand mocking in silent testimony to our fears. Anywhere else and this would be a place of peace and magic, of beauty and wonder. The tall proud pillars of stone are a landmark, visible from all over the city. To us, another hazard to be negotiated with care. Lying on the damp ground listening to the roar of traffic, the bustle of a big city, watching Pte. Larkin get up and carefully thread his way through the bushes and shrubs nosing the barrel of his S.L.R. before him, head turning from side to side. It all seems so improbable. Knowing there are ten rounds of 7.62 ammunition in my magazine and that the rifle is cocked, brings me back to the reality of the situation.
    These clearance patrols are short and we are soon back in the O.P. Later, Hookey will take a patrol out to clear his back area, and still later, one from the base will look in. The Forts are vulnerable and must be watched at all times. In the other Company areas they also have their own positions. In t he Old Park district, it is above the old chip shop and so it is called just that. The chip-shop O.P. In the New Ardoyne, there is a junction of roads and this is known as the Rings O.P. Out of all of them, it is the Rings that so far has had the most action with regular short-lived fire-fights with snipers. In one such incident, a young boy was caught in the crossfire and died of his wounds. The press and T.V. had a field day with both the Army and the I. R. A. denying that he was killed by one of their rounds. We came out of it best by virtue of the fact that the boy's uncle, who had been driving the car at the time, had changed his story between the two news programmes on the T. V. that night. It was easy to claim that he had been subjected to intimidation during the time between the two bulletins. Nobody gave a shit about the poor little bastard. Propaganda, that's what it's all about, and we play the game as viciously as everybody else. Human life becomes graded by the ability to be used for maximum publicity. Propaganda and publicity, the weapons of a twentieth-century society.
     
    The most effective O.P.s are the covert ones and we're getting pretty good at them. The most difficult to carry out successfully and potentially extremely dangerous, they are, without doubt, also great fun if you discount the discomfort and squalor that have to be put up with in order to gain maximum effect.
    Covert O.P.s are set up in either occupied or derelict houses overlooking areas of particular importance or just acting on information received. One was carried out by Support Company the other week which resulted in three kills and two seriously wounded gunmen. They had collected on a street corner and started handing out weapons prior to an attack on an Army patrol. The O.P. was twenty metres away across the road, and after the initial challenge, opened fire. One man escaped the hail of bullets, the others were not so lucky. Paras 5, I.R.A. 0.
    The coverts in our area were centred on the drinking clubs and good old U.D.A. headq uarters. Days spent peeing into plastic bags, shitting into same. Eating cold out of tins. Never talking except to pass messages on the radio at the dead of night. Videotape whirring quietly, to be watched later. The personalities logged, cross-checked and filed for later use.
    We have a Company within the Battalion, D. Coy, that are supposed to be the specialists at this type of thing. One patrol is attached to each rifle company and are considered cowboys by the lads. On one occasion, the platoon commander on one covert called for assistance in the middle of the night. A Saracen was rushed round with the stand-by section all ready for some action, when they found out that the guy had been crawling round the landing of the derelict they were using, looking for a place to pee, when he fell through some rotten boards and broke his ankle. Needless to