Tea and Biscuits

Mrs O'Malley's hands shook slightly as she brought the tray across to the two Privates outside of her home. On the tray stood two China cups, a blue teapot, and a plate of biscuits. 'Would you boys like a cuppa?' She said placing the cup down on the front wall.

'I wouldn't mind, pet,' Private Matthews said, reaching out to help her with the tray.

'Milk, two sugars please.' Private Nicholson said.

'No bother lads, help yourself, please' she said with a smile 'there's plenty more biscuits as well.'

Mrs O'Malley held onto the teapot lid and poured out the tea into a China cup with pansies painted on. Next she lightly held the milk jug and poured the milk into the mix. 'Was that two sugars?' She said.

'Yes please,' Nicholson said 'wouldn't have it any other way' he chuckled to himself and took the teacup. He took a sip, it was milky and sweet. 'Ah - just how I like it, cheers pet.'

Mrs O'Malley smiled and poured another cup of tea for Matthews 'how do you take it dear?' She said.

'Milky, no sugar.' Matthews said.

A group of youngsters, aged between 12 and 15, sulked past the two Privates and glowered at them. 'Fuck off you pricks' the oldest one said, sticking his fingers up at Matthews, 'oppressive bastards.'

'Fascists.' Another one shouted, spitting in their direction.

'Oh, ignore them,' Mrs O'Malley said 'you boys are doing a fine job out here, serving Queen and Country, God bless you both.'

'Thank you, mam' Nicholson said, dunking a biscuit into the tea.

The oldest of the youths threw a stone and it hit Mrs O'Malley's front window. 'Bastards' he said 'Fascist pigs.'

'Watch it son,' Matthews said 'I'll tell your old lady what you've been up to.'

'Do it,' the boy said 'see what I care.'

News: Policeman Attacked

'PC Allan Whitman, 40, has been attacked in the Chester Road area of Sunderland today after clashes between armed police and republican protestors. Eye witnesses said that Whitman, a well respected man amongst Loyalist communities, was struck by a brick thrown at him from over a fence.'

'The fence in question was erected by a joint agreement between the police force and the British Armed Forces. This was to keep the warring communities apart, acting as a deterant. However, in the past months, there have been several cases in which members of both communities have scaled the fence in order to attack each other. Warning shots have failed to act as a deterant and the fence has garnered criticism from leaders on both sides.'

'Plans have been put into action to have the 10 foot security fence taken down, however many members of the acting council have declined any further action other than to increase security forces at the checkpoint.'

A Spot of Bother

LCpl. Johnson, Private Wilkinson, and Private Malone, walked down the empty street. It had been raining and the ground was sodden with water. 'FUCK THE SLA' was painted on the wall in big white letters. Johnson looked at it, frowned, and shook his head.

'Bastards,' he said 'Bloody bastards the lot of them.'

'You're not wrong there.' Malone said.

'Fuck off you royalist scum.' A voice said from a nearby second floor window, followed by a pint glass.

The glass smashed on Wilkinson's shoulder and he stumbled forwards 'Son of a bitch' he said holding onto the wound. 

The glass was followed by a table leg from another window, 'Fuck you lot.' The other voice said 'You oppressive bastards.' A brick came at the group from in front of them, it missed and landed a few feet ahead.

Malone and Wilkinson aimed their SLRs at the windows above in a hope to intimidate the aggressors. A red Ford Capri pulled up at the end of the road with the passenger window down. Johnson saw the familiar look of a rifle muzzle and he signalled his men to head for cover. Bang. A bullet caught Malone in the shin and he went down, half in cover behind a Ford Escort, his legs sticking out. Wilkinson pulled him fully behind the car.

'Shit, shit, shit' Malone said 'my fucking leg.'

'Don't worry mate, you'll be fine.' Wilkinson said 'I've got ya.'

Johnson raised his rifle over the top of the discarded rubbish bin and popped off a shot, it hit the passenger door of the Capri and spooked the shooter. The driver reversed and sped off around the corner.

'I think they're gone,' Johnson said 'everything alright over there?'

'Just a flesh wound.' Wilkinson said.

'A fucking flesh wound?' Malone said.

'You'll be fine mate.' Wilkinson said.

Factions

As you may have guessed by my last post, I will be highlighting some of the factions on each side of the civil war. This includes Republicans, Workers Unions, Loyalists/Royalists, and her Majesty's Armed Forces.

I've already covered the Sunderland Republican Movement, and I shall have the next one up asap. I still don't have any models to start the 20mm side of things but that shall change soon.

We're moving in a month or so, so I'm hoping my hobby picks up then. Until then,

Cheers,

Sean.

News: Republicans Take Up Arms

'Today, on the fifth of July, a surge in paramilitary activity has spread across the North of England, mainly, as well as across other parts of England and Wales. Their leaders, well known terrorists the Corrigan Brothers, have declared war on the occupying Royalist forces in County Durham. Cells in Newcastle and Middlesbrough have also taken up arms against occupying forces. Earlier in the week, two unarmed British Paras were shot and killed by a group of masked men at a military checkpoint. Although they haven't been identified, and no one has stepped forward, sources agree that it was likely down to that of the County Durham Republicans. Officials have told soldiers active in the North East area to stay alert and not to stray too far away from checkpoints and posts.'

'Sources close to the BBC have claimed that the CDR are supplied with arms from supporters across the water in Ireland, as well as other parts of the UK. These include Varients on the AK47, Sterlinh SMGs and Browning Hi-Power handguns. We'll have more news at 10.'

Tiocfaidh ár lá

So, more info on the Corrigan Brothers!

Born in 1964, to mother Florence and father Francis, Francis Corrigan Jr. Is the oldest of the two brothers. He joined the IRA in 1984 at the age of 20 and acted as a gunman. At 21 he had killed 3 men, all members of his brigade, for acts of treason. All 3 men were informants and drug dealers. He fled Belfast in 1985 after an attempt on his life.

Younger brother Eddie, born in 1965, joined the IRA aged 18, under the guidance of a former British Para named Jack O'Keefe. Eddie excelled at bomb making and was used on several skirmishes against the Occupying British forces. Eddie stayed in Belfast until 1986, when he left for the North East of England to be with his brother, Francis.

Establishing a Republican movement in  the town of Sunderland, Francis garnered support from several groups including a number of Unions, as well as a group of anti-fascists, who provided him with funds which they believed went towards helping the working classes. Instead, that money went towards recruitment and buying supplies for the forthcoming armed struggle.

The most notable of his supporters was an Elite member of her Majesty's Navy, a Marine nonetheless. He supplied Francis with small arms, handguns mostly, as well as camoflauge and other essential equipment.

When Eddie arrived in the North East, he stayed in contact with Jack O'Keefe who, happily, supported the Corrigan's 'struggle' against security forces. He sent several men over to aid in the cause.

The reason for their armed struggle was due to the fact that in occupied North East, following a civil war kicked off by the Miner's strike, the working classes have been vilified by fascists loyal to the crown.

The Corrigan's will continue their armed struggle against the crown for as long as it takes, no matter how many lives are lost - on either side. Their compatriots in other parts of the country are also taking up arms and it's only a matter of time, according to them, before the ruling government falls and the Royal family hang.

All Quiet On The North Eastern Front

The squaddies stood around idol, it was mid-afternoon and nobody had passed by their way since ten o clock in the morning. The surrounding countryside was damp of the morning's rain, their uniforms sodden. 

At the unofficial checkpoint, Johnny and Gaz sat behind their L7A2 and watched the empty road ahead of them. Nothing. Their makeshift shelter kept them from the elements.

'Did you see that, there?' Gaz said, pointing off to the left.

'Aye, I did, saw something move over there' Johnny said.

A man, dressed in DPM camoflauge trousers, wearing a green and white striped football top, knelt down on the  ground with his hands over his head.

'Jimmy,' Gaz said, 'Go and see what that's all about will ya? Smiley, you go with him, too.'

Jimmy and Smiley advanced down the road towards the kneeling man. He had shoulder length black hair, and what appeared to be a Glasgow Celtic football shirt. He had DMs on his feet and a cross tattooed on his left forearm.

'Oi,' he said, in a thick Northern Irish accent 'I'm willing to cooperate with Her Majesty's Government, if you'll let me'

Smiley raised his SA80 and cautiously approached the kneeling man. 'What's your name, mate?' He said.

'Corrigan,' Eddie said 'Eddie Corrigan.'

Smiley nodded and lowered his rifle slightly, he beckoned Eddie to come towards him, and he complied.

As they turned to walk back towards the checkpoint, a russling came from the hedges on either side. Jimmy paused and approached the right hedge. From over the top came a balaclava wearing head, and then the barrel of an AK47.

The unidentified man opened fire, hitting Jimmy in the shoulder and chest. Jimmy fell to the floor, squirming. Eddie lay on the floor, hands over his head, as bullets whizzed overhead. Smiley opened fire on the hedge, standing over Eddie. He fired until the return fire stopped.

From behind him, another masked man stood up and fired from behind the hedge, hitting Smiley in the back.