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Irish, Ireland, British, Ulster, Unionist, Sinn Féin, SDLP, Ahern, Blair, Irish America

Why my Protestant Portadown family supports murdered IRA man's people

(by Suzanne Breen, Sunday Tribune)

Caoimhe Hanna doesn't know how many bullets hit her brother but he probably died instantly. The SAS fired 534 shots when they killed Kevin Barry O'Donnell and three other IRA members that night. They were all aged under 23.

The throat of Paul McIlwaine's son David was so badly slashed he had to be buried in a polo neck. The undertakers worked on him for 34 hours before letting his parents see the body. His hands were ripped to pieces from trying to defend himself in the stabbing. He was only 18.

Caoimhe Hanna and Paul McIlwaine live just 12 miles apart, yet in normal circumstances they'd never meet. Hanna is from Coalisland, Co Tyrone, a staunchly republican town. McIlwaine is from hardline Protestant Portadown.

"I never thought I'd meet the sister of an IRA man," he says. "But then I never thought a lot of things until my son was murdered." Kevin Barry O'Donnell was shot dead on February 16 1992. David McIlwaine died three days and eight years later. Death has united the families against the authorities.

In some ways, they were very different young men. Kevin Barry O'Donnell lived up to his name. At 21, he was already an 'IRA legend'. He hadn't travelled further than England, to attend agricultural college, and even then he was homesick.

He wasn't just a student. Guns were found in his car in London but he pleaded not guilty. He was so well-dressed and well-spoken that the jury believed him. He was a fluent Irish speaker and was "mad about Gaelic football". He played the tin whistle and accordion.

McIlwaine had no interest in politics but he loved music. He was always blasting UB40, Oasis and Elvis. He'd probably have been too embarrassed to admit it but he liked Gareth Brooks too. A graphic design student at Upper Bann Institute, he wanted to be a cartoonist.

He was a brilliant sportsman. The house is coming down with plaques and trophies for soccer and athletics. He had been abroad, although not far. He "had a ball" in Tenerife shortly before he died.

Northern Catholics and Protestants joining together can be strained and artificial. Hands-across-the-divide events are organised by professional do-gooders and government bodies. The O'Donnells' and McIlwaines' experiences unite them naturally.

Both have been denied death certificates and inquests. Both are involved in protracted legal battles to establish the facts surrounding the killings. The O'Donnells allege a shoot-to-kill operation. The McIlwaines claim their son's murder investigation hasn't progressed because at least one of the killers is a police or British military informer.

Both families cases have been taken up by Relatives For Justice, which campaigns for the victims of state violence. It's holding a major conference in Belfast next weekend.

Save for the 1,000 sympathy cards, David McIlwaine's bedroom is almost as he left it. It's a real boy's bedroom - blue walls and posters of David Ginola and Courtney Cox. It's littered with football and concert tickets. His father points to a wardrobe of designer clothes: "He'd spend more on one shirt than I would on eight."

He remembers his son heading off to the Spot nightclub in Tandragee, "laughing as he went out the door". At 2 a.m., David moved on to a house party with Andrew Robb (19). They met a crowd there and left in two cars. The pair didn't suspect danger.

They were driven to an isolated spot on the Druminure Road. Andrew was killed. David made a run for it. He got 200 yards and was recaptured. A farmer found them that morning in a pool of blood. Police at the murder scene needed counselling.

Paul McIlwaine had bought a new mobile that weekend. The first call received told him his son was dead. He is plagued by mixed feelings over David drinking that night: "Sometimes I think it was good because it would have eased the pain. Then, I think he might have escaped had he been sober."

The UVF told McIlwaine several 'rogue' members were involved in the unsanctioned attack. Neither teenager was a paramilitary. One theory is they were mistaken for LVF men and killed in retaliation for the murder of UVF Mid-Ulster leader, Richard Jameson.

One man was arrested and charged with the double murder. Police said they had forensic evidence. A year later, the DPP dropped the charges. The family say no reason was given. They claim blood-stained clothing found in raids on other suspects' homes was ignored.

A dozen people, including a woman and a Protestant pastor, were allegedly involved in the murder. The family believe there have been no successful prosecutions because some are informers. The Police Ombudsman, Nuala O'Loan, is investigating their complaints.

"We've been denied a death certificate and inquest. They haven't even returned David's personal effects. We went to court to get the murder files and, when he got them, the vital stuff was mostly blacked out.

"They still won't show us Special Branch material and Huge Orde, the Chief Constable, says if we try for that he may apply for a Public Interest Immunity Certificate which is normally only to stop the release of documents endangering national security.

"Protestants aren't meant to go against the police. I've friends who are ordinary officers. It's the ones at the top who anger me. Every door has been slammed in our face. We've met red tape left, right and centre."

It's been traumatic for the family. McIlwaine's wife Gail couldn't hold down her job as a school care-taker. His satellite dish business collapsed and, at one point, the house was almost repossessed. "I want to go to bed and not wake up. My daughter's graduating this summer and my other son has just had a baby. You try to keep going for them but it's hard."

Caoimhe Hanna never had faith in the state. Yet she didn't expect to be waiting 13 years after her brother's killing for a death certificate and an inquest. "We didn't think they'd still be hiding things. We haven't even a date for the inquest.

"We've had 23 preliminary hearings. It's emotionally draining, going to court so often. You're forced to relive things over and over again. Any documents disclosed to us have important information blacked out."

"Glad the bastard's dead!" screamed an English tabloid when Kevin Barry O'Donnell was killed. O'Donnell had aimed to inflict death and destruction on the security forces. Hanna knows some believe he got his just desserts.

"Yes, he was in the IRA and I make no apology for that. He made a decision to join. He didn't drift into it. He didn't drift into anything, he wasn't the type. But he was my brother, and I loved him dearly, and he was a citizen of a state which claims to operate within certain rules. If they've nothing to hide, tell us what happened."

A ruthless republican to some, he was "just Barry" to his sister who was older by a year. "He was great craic and very good-looking - tall, with jet black hair and blue eyes," she says, showing a photograph to prove it. The picture, was taken the month before he was killed, after the christening of his son Ruairi.

When he was 17, O'Donnell and his best friend, Sean O'Farrell, went to the funerals of eight IRA men executed in an SAS ambush at Loughall. The next year, they joined the IRA. O'Donnell's father wasn't surprised. The house was raided regularly as his son grew up with "police pulling young Barry from his bed at night to search under it".

Kevin Barry O'Donnell was killed after attacking Coalisland police station. The IRA men stood in the rear of a lorry, firing a heavy-machine gun. It didn't penetrate the well-fortified base. The assault was symbolic, reportedly for a propaganda video.

But the security forces had advance knowledge, some claim from an informer. When the IRA men drove into St Patrick's Church at Clonoe, a mile away, to dismantle the gun and switch to getaway cars, the SAS were waiting and opened up. There was no return fire.

"It was an ambush. They didn't even try to make arrests. They should admit that," says Hanna. The family expected "transparency and openness" with the peace process: "We're trying to move with the times but it's hard to have faith and believe in a new beginning with this veil of secrecy."

Hanna fully supports the McIlwaines' campaign: "Everyone who has lost a loved one in the conflict deserves the truth. The McIlwaines, just like the O'Donnells, are in pain. My heart goes out to them."

Paul McIlwaine feels the same way: "This is a justice issue. My personal opinion of the IRA is irrelevant. It doesn't matter that Caoimhe's brother was a member. Until six years ago, I was naïve. I'd have dismissed her claims as propaganda, just as plenty of people probably now dismiss me."

April 30, 2005
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This article appears in the April 24, 2005 edition of the Sunday Tribune.

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