A chara, I hope you and yours are well. After a tireless campaign for truth and justice spanning nearly 54 years, the victims and survivors of the Springhill-Westrock Massacre of 9th July 1972 heard what they knew all along – their loved ones were innocent and unjustifiably killed.It has been Paper Trail’s honour to support their campaign with legacy archive research over the years. In turn (because of new evidence we discovered), this has helped other families impacted by violence around that period too. With family support yesterday, we published our own investigation into the 1st Battalion King’s Regiment. đ„ Watch: Killer Kings and its Bloody Tour of West Belfast in 1972
Rather than a couple of out-of-control loose cannons within a section of C Company 1 Kings over a couple of hours, Paper Trail investigated a number of similar murders and cover-ups across all the Companies and over the 4-month tour of duty. Hopefully, these killings will be re-investigated in new inquests as promised, but – taken together – I believe they show a pattern of lawlessness and impunity, rather than an isolated loss of control. Hence why we call them the Killer Kings. The legal teams have been made aware of this, of course, and we will support the families in the coming years. Don’t forget you can subscribe for free to our YouTube channel, Paper Trail Pro. Kind regards,CiarĂĄn
A coroner has ruled that British soldiers did not use reasonable force in the 1972 Springhill and Westrock massacre in west Belfast, finding that five innocent civilians â including a priest, a father-of-six and three teenagers â were killed in aimed shots and posed no threat at the time.
The findings, delivered after a long-running inquest, brought some closure to 54 years of grief and campaigning against a hostile justice system. The victims were John Dougal, Patrick Butler, Father Noel Fitzpatrick, David McCafferty and Margaret Gargan. The original inquest in 1973 returned an open verdict.
The coroner found that all five of the deceased were shot by soldiers from the 1st Kings Regiment, firing from one location and in breach of the British Armyâs own yellow card rules of engagement.
Justice Scoffield concluded that Father Noel Fitzpatrick, 42, Patrick Butler, 38, and David McCafferty, 14, were shot dead at Westrock Drive around 10pm on 9 July 1972, and that the force used was ânot reasonable.â He said they were shot by one soldier firing from Corryâs timber yard.
He said Fr Fitzpatrick and Mr Butler were killed by the same bullet and that the soldier could not have believed any of them were armed. The coroner found that âno warning was shoutedâ and said the priest, who was ârecognisable as a priest,â stepped out from cover unarmed before being shot.
The judge also concluded that David McCafferty âwas not armedâ and âposed no threat to anyoneâ when he was killed by the same soldier, adding that he had been assisting the other two after they were shot. Regarding that killing, he found that the soldier did not have an honest belief that he was under immediate danger or attack.
The court also heard that 16-year-old John Dougal was shot in the back while running away and trying to take cover, with the judge finding it was âmore likely than notâ that he had also been shot by the same soldier. He said there was âno evidence whatsoever that a warning was shoutedâ and ruled that the force used was not reasonable even if Dougal had been armed.
On Margaret Gargan, 13, the coroner concluded she was shot by a second soldier, also from Corryâs Yard, in an aimed shot and that she âposed no risk at all.â He said she was âtalking to her friends in the streetâ and that no warning was given before the fatal shot was fired.
The inquest also found that soldiers âoverreacted to perceived threats and ultimately lost control.â Justice Scoffield said some sporadic rounds had been fired earlier in the evening, but he rejected the civilian case that no round had been fired that day.
In a joint statement, the families said they âstand together after almost 54 years of grief, loss, and unanswered questions.â They said: âFor us, this is not history; it is something we have lived with every day.â They added: âWe have consistently maintained that those who died were innocent civilians, and that the force used on that day was indiscriminate and unjustified.â
Relatives for Justice expressed solidarity, stating: âOur sincere thoughts and gratitude are with these extraordinary families this evening. They have borne unmerciful hardship and trauma. Their courage in the face of the British stateâs impunity has been truly inspiring.â
The 1992 Irish American Presidential Forum. Bill Clinton delivers a series of pledges to Irish America. Sitting beside him is forum moderator Jack Irwin. Martin Galvin is one of the three journalists asking questions of Clinton and his seated in the middle
Irish Northern Aid Documentary Wins ‘Royal’ Award
News April 30, 2026 by Martin Galvin
RTĂâs acclaimed documentary “NORAID: IRISH AMERICA AND THE IRA” was named the Best Factual Series at the Royal Television Society Ireland Awards in Dublin on April 16th.
The two part series tells how Irish Americans, over a quarter century, defied opposition, indeed vilification by the British, Irish and American governments, to deliver vital political backing and publicity for the Irish Republican Army struggle, and millions of dollars for prisonersâ families.
Director Kevin Brannigan and Producer Jamie Goldrick of Up and Away Media won the coveted award for telling a story that had been all but hidden.
Early on in the documentary viewers see Michael Flannery, the Tipperary IRA Veteran of the Black and Tan, and Civil Wars, who fifty years later helped found Irish Northern Aid or Noraid, this at a time when money was desperately needed by the families of those arrested or interned.
Viewers glimpse the forces lined up against Noraid. British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher shrilly condemns Noraid support. She is echoed by Irish Prime Ministers Charles Haughey, Liam Cosgrave and even American President Ronald Reagan.
Hostile press is exemplified by a 1985 Irish Independent editorial expressing outrage that Americans would want to see the north firsthand, or hear Irish Republican leaders banned from broadcast airways, and denied visas to the United States.
News coverage termed Irish Republican Army Volunteers, âsectarian terroristsâ or âmindless criminalsâ whose American supporters must be âmisguidedâ or âmisty-eyed.” British officials even blamed Irish Americans, not British injustice, for the Irish conflict, or incidents like the brutal Internment Day 1984 attack on peaceful demonstrators, including 130 Noraid tour members, watched by millions, during American network coverage of the Los Angeles Olympics.
Top British spy Denis Donaldson would be sent to wreck Noraid from within, while an FBI official admits getting frequent demands for action from the White House at Britainâs behest.
Against this array, Irish Americans, some born in Ireland and others generations removed, joined together simply because they saw Irish men and women in a desperate struggle against British rule, and would not stand idly by.
For them, tirades by Thatcher, or her various allies, were accolades to be repeated aloud at rallies with cheers and laughter. It was truly NORAID: IRISH AMERICA AND THE IRA, because as long as Noraid members were willing to take a stand, congressmen, labor leaders, civil rights lawyers, Hibernians and other Irish organizations were willing to stand with them.
Brannigan and Goldrick tell this remarkable story by mixing historic archival film with first hand interviews of Noraid members. As the words of the 1916 Easter Proclamation, âsupported by her exiled children in Americaâ are highlighted, John McDonagh explains how Irish Americans were part of every struggle for freedom in Ireland, since the early 1800s. John himself played a major role in a Times Square display, planned as a Christmas message to Irish political prisoners, which unexpectedly became an international news story, courtesy of hysterical British tabloids.
Brigid Brannigan from South Armagh and Fr. Patrick Maloney from Limerick were two of the Irish-born members who joined Noraid when conflict broke out and carried the organization during its early years, headquartered in a small Bronx office with two phones, taking on the unlimited resources of the British.
Kathleen Savage and Michael Shanley met on the 1985 fact-finding visit, which so outraged the Irish Independent. Kathleen defied Royal Ulster Constabulary commands to surrender her camera, while Michael was arrested for shouting âBritish troops out of Irelandâ in a chance encounter with a British royal in New York.
He describes his emotional trip to Manhattan on the day of Bobby Sandsâ funeral, followed by a television news clip, âThey are massing by the thousands outside the British Consulate outraged by the death of Bobby Sands.â
Chris Byrneâs song âFeniansâ captured the spirit of Noraid, and the former New York City Policeman described how the New York City Emerald Society Pipe Band came to march in honor of the Hunger Strikers in Bundoran County Donegal, despite Gardai complaints, in what became âthe bandâs finest hour.”
This documentary goes right at questions of whether Noraid monies went to finance arms for the IRA. The producers managed to get groundbreaking interviews with three men, Gabriel Megahey, John Crawley and Patrick Nee, who make no apologies for helping arm IRA Volunteers during the Troubles, and served years of imprisonment for doing so.
They each made the point, categorically, that not only were Noraid monies not used for arms purchases, but it would have been foolhardy to become involved with a public organization like Noraid.
That breakthrough can be traced directly to the H-Blocks and ultimately the Hunger Strikers, whose inspiration transformed Noraid. In 1978 two Irish Republicans came to New York with a message from H-Block prison leader Brendan Hughes, that the Blanketmen needed American publicity and political pressure to win their fight against brutal British attempts to break them.
A key part of the reorganization and campaign which followed were Blanketmen, Ciaran Nugent, Fra McCann, Joe Maguire and Seamus Delaney coming illegally for rallies organized by Noraid across the U.S., making the H-Blocks an American issue. Viewers see film of one Noraid rally outside New Yorkâs Lincoln Center where 15,000 stood with siblings of Bobby Sands, Patsy OâHara, Ray McCreesh and Joe McDonnell to humiliate Britainâs then Prince Charles.
The daily rallies across America during the 1981 Hunger Strike contributed to the victory over criminalization. They also convinced New York Assemblyman John Dearie that we could make Ireland a presidential issue using candidate forums.
Noraid and its historic contributions against overwhelming opposition seemed all but whitewashed out of history.
Now Kevin Brannigan and Jamie Goldrick have told that story with a skill and authenticity that won “Noraid: Irish America and the IRA” the prestigious Royal Television Society award as Best Factual Series.
It also won them plaudits from former Noraid members, who never expected credit but are thankful to have their story told.
Martin Galvin was National Publicity Director of Noraid from 1979-1995 and for most of that period was editor of the Irish People newspaper. He has been Ancient Order of Hibernians Freedom for all Ireland Chairman since 2018.
At the age of 14, he took his first steps towards becoming involved in Republicanism when he joined Na Fianna Ăireann. Two years later, he turned down an opportunity to study in the United States and joined the Irish Republican Army (IRA), stating, âno one will ever be able to accuse me of running away.â
He became Officer Commanding of the IRA in County Fermanagh by the age of 19.
On February 5th 1980, off-duty Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR) corporal Aubrey Abercrombieb was killed as he drove a tractor in the townland of Drumacabranagher, near Florencecourt.
Later that year, on September 23, off-duty Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) Reserve Constable Ernest Johnston was killed outside his home in Rosslea.
While on remand in Crumlin Road, he stood as a Republican candidate in the 1982 Free State General Election for the Cavan/Monaghan constituency, contesting a seat which had formerly been held by hunger strike martyr Kieran Doherty.
He was not elected but received 3,974 votes (6.84% of the vote).
In May 1982, he was convicted of murdering the RUC and UDR members, with the judge recommending he spend at least 30 years in prison.
Your ancestors knelt in open fields to pray. Not because they had no church. Because someone had decided that practicing their faith was a criminal act. And they went anyway.
Under the Penal Laws of the late 17th and early 18th centuries, Catholic worship was effectively banned in Ireland. Catholic churches were seized or destroyed. Catholic clergy faced imprisonment, transportation, or execution. The institutional structure of Irish Catholic life was systematically dismantled by a government that understood, correctly, that faith was the thing holding the Irish people together and that breaking it would break them.
It did not break them.
Mass rocks appeared across the Irish countryside. Flat stones on hillsides, in fields, at the edges of bogs, that became altars. Priests who had been trained in secret on the continent returned to Ireland and moved from townland to townland, saying Mass in the open air with lookouts posted to watch for soldiers. Entire communities gathered in wind and rain and cold to participate in something they had been told they were not permitted to do.
The punishment for attending was severe. The attendance was extraordinary.
Your ancestors were among those people. They knelt in a field in the rain because the alternative was letting someone else decide what they were allowed to believe, and that was not a concession the Irish were willing to make. Not then. Not ever.
The faith that runs in your family did not come from compliance. It came from defiance. From people who chose it when choosing it had consequences and kept choosing it every Sunday in every field for as long as the law said they couldn’t.
That is not religion. That is your bloodline refusing to be told who it is.