Patrick Kelly was the first Irish soldier to be killed in the Republic since the Civil War. And while the recent trial of Brendan McFarlane for kidnapping ended in acquittal, the Kelly family are glad the case finally got to court
WHEN BRENDAN McFarlane was acquitted of kidnapping in the Special Criminal Court last month, Pte Patrick Kelly once more slipped into history. For his family the acquittal was "very disappointing". But the two weeks they had spent in the public gallery of the Special Criminal Court had been vital to them all the same. It gave them a chance to hear from men who were in Derrada Wood, Co Leitrim, on the day Pte Kelly was killed there.
"The one who stands out for me was Cpl Paddy Shine," says David Kelly, who attended the court every day. "He was standing next to my father when he died and was able to describe exactly what happened, to give a full definitive account. A real weight is gone off my shoulders. My father's last moments are very important for me. Up to now all I've heard is snippets really."
Pte Kelly died 25 years ago, on December 16th 1983, when the Army and gardaí stumbled on the gang who had kidnapped supermarket executive Don Tidey. Pte Kelly left his wife, Katherine Kelly, and four sons: David, Michael, Patrick and Andrew. David was aged nine. "My impression of him is that he was always busy, full of energy," says David of his father. "He seemed to be always on the go, always going to visit his parents in Longford with us all in the car. He had a zest for life."
"I remember him always fixing cars out the back," says Michael, who was six when Pte Kelly died. "And I remember him coming back from Lebanon and his bag was full of big toys and electrical things."
Cars were Pte Kelly's big passion - he was a driver with the Army and had won a safety award for his driving.
"When I got older, the two of us would cycle out to cut the turf in the evening times," says David. "We'd have a cup of tea out there, on the bog. I treasure that memory. One time he took me into the Army barracks in Athlone. While he was talking to his colleagues I was climbing over the trucks. It was, yes, it was a little boy's dream."
"He was very interested in his children," says Katherine Kelly. "He was very hands-on."
Brendan McFarlane was the first person to be charged in connection with the kidnapping of Don Tidey. The Kelly family had waited 25 years for their day in court. Katherine Kelly took unpaid leave from her job as a senior care assistant in London to attend McFarlane's trial. "But it's worth it," she says.
In the first week of the trial she sat in the echoing public gallery of Green Street courthouse in Dublin, flanked by her sons, David and Patrick. They drove up every day from the family home David and Patrick share in Moate. The Kellys were not there on the first day because they did not know the trial had started until David read about it in the newspaper. There were plenty of senior gardaí in the courtroom, but no Army personnel were present. The Kellys did not speak to or meet any Army official before or during the trial.
One day, the only other people in the public gallery were a middle-aged man and two blonde women. On being asked whether the man and two blonde women could be the family of young Garda recruit Gary Sheehan, who was also killed on December 16th 1983, the Kellys said they thought that they might be. "We'd like to meet the Sheehans," they said later. But the other party in the public gallery turned out to include the brother and wife of the accused, Brendan McFarlane, sitting a few feet away. One person the Kellys did meet in court was Don Tidey, who came up and introduced himself. "An absolute gentleman," says David Kelly. "He said it was a pleasure to meet the Kelly family," says Kathleen. Tidey told the Kellys that he had been amazed to see the youngest of the Kelly boys, Andrew, on The Late Late Show in an item about the Defence Forces. Andrew is currently on peacekeeping duty in Chad, with the 6th Battalion, his father's old company. On December 16th 1983 Andrew was 11 weeks old.
BY THE TIME Pte Kelly died he had done three tours of duty in Lebanon and one in Cyprus. He was torn about going overseas.
"He was a bit sad really, leaving the children" says Kathleen. "But that time Army wages were very small, very bad, and it was an opportunity to better himself for his family."
They never discussed the possibility of him being killed in the line of duty. When he came back to Ireland he was assigned to Border duty and then drove armoured personnel carriers as part of the Army escorts provided to deliveries of cash to provincial banks - there were a lot of bank robberies at that time. He was then stationed in his home barracks of Athlone.
"The day he died he just went into work as normal," says Kathleen. "I was busy that time because Andrew was only 11 weeks. I knew nothing about it until the Army chaplain came with my brother-in-law, Pat Malone, who is married to my sister Esther - and Pat was also a soldier. They came to the house and told me. But I couldn't take it in."
"Pat Malone sat me down," says David. "And he said there had been a shoot-out, an ambush, and that Daddy had been killed."
"And Daddy's photo came on the news," says Michael. "And it was like a dreamworld after that," says Kathleen.
No one sat Michael down and told him. "I remember bits and pieces of it really, it's all a bit of a blur. But I think I knew," he says.
"I was visited," says Kathleen. "Charles Haughey and Jack Lynch, they just turned up at the house. It was strange."
"Charles Haughey shook all our hands and said 'good luck'," remembers David. "Jack Lynch was very nice," says Kathleen. "And so was his wife." She was taken to the mortuary in Navan to see her husband's body. Her mother-in-law was told.
"It was strange," says David. "Longford and Leitrim are so close. So from my grandparents' cottage they could see in the distance the mountainous area where he died. He died on his home ground." Despite newspaper reports at the time, both David and Michael attended their father's funeral, which took place at St Patrick's in Moate. Perhaps they were so small that the reporters could not see them among the crowd. "I told the Army not to fire any guns at the funeral in case it would frighten the children," says Kathleen. "After what had happened their father." Their father's brother, Jim Kelly, another soldier, came home from Lebanon for the huge funeral. "Daddy was the first soldier to die in this jurisdiction since the Civil War," says Michael.
At the time of his death many people commented on how strange it was that Pte Kelly, with his record of serving abroad, had been killed in his own country.
The Army was a big employer in Moate, and Moate closed around them then.
"People were brilliant," says Kathleen. "The Army were good. I had a liaison officer. No, I didn't have any tablets. I had people around me. I had difficulty sleeping, but then again I was kept going because I had small children. I got the widow's pension, but it's not the same at all." She was 30 years old. She has never remarried and says she does not wish to. She had met her husband at a dance in Moate.
"There was a country and western band playing in a marquee at the Well in Moate," she says. "We had the wedding reception there afterwards." She was 19 and he was 25, and already in the Army. "We got on well from the start. We were similar. He was quiet, with a good smile. I liked him very much."
He always wanted children. They still went out after the children came. One of her sisters would babysit and they would go to hear a country and western band.
After their father died, Michael says, "It was strange, life went on."
"Looking back now, you can see that certain of your schoolfriends looked out for you a bit more, which was nice of them," says David.
"But it just got too much for me then," says Kathleen. "The weight of it." She wanted to go "somewhere people didn't know."
She took her children to north London, near Cricklewood, where one of her sisters lived. She still had the widow's pension, but she had four children, one of whom, Patrick, had learning difficulties. She worked at the boys' primary school as a teacher's assistant. The family came home for a summer holiday and, most years, for Pte Kelly's anniversary Mass in the Athlone barracks on December 16th. Kathleen paid their fares.
David always missed his father: "You know, in north London, people would go to matches at Highbury, to Arsenal, fathers and sons," he says. "I sort of tagged along with a mate and his father. I really missed having a father around to give you fatherly advice. I just had to pick it up in other ways, learn in other ways. When you're 16 and you're coming into your own, you could do with a helping hand."
Michael was the first of the family to return to live in Ireland. He did a degree at Trinity College Dublin and is now a civil servant. "In 1998 I spotted in the paper that Brendan McFarlane had been arrested," he says.
Two or three years ago they were contacted by a reporter based in Northern Ireland, asking them if they were aware that Brendan McFarlane was going through the courts - presumably a reference to the two judicial reviews entered by McFarlane's legal team. A couple of weeks before the trial a detective garda rang them, through Andrew Kelly's superior officer, to see if they wished to make contact.
THE TRIAL BROUGHT surprises for the Kellys. One soldier had Pte Kelly's beret badge and left it at Athlone barracks for Andrew. And it ended with amazing suddenness.
"This is it," says David. "It's over. Unfortunately, it looks highly probable that no one will ever be prosecuted for the kidnapping or the killings." But the Kellys are pleased it took place. "Definitely," says David. "It came out into the light. It was public."
Kathleen is due to move back from London later this year, to join her four sons and two grandchildren (Andrew's son and daughter). I asked if she had any complaints. She had none.
"I don't feel too strongly about it" she says. "We're a good unit together. We work well together. We always have. We take things day by day." On the Friday after McFarlane's acquittal an Army officer rang to say that the Army had believed the Kellys were still living in London, and this is why they had not been in contact.
"It was a communications breakdown," says David mildly. Asked why he attended the trial every day, he says: "For him. For him. He had his whole life in front of him."
What he doesn't say is that Pte Kelly had the whole of his sons' lives, and his wife's life, in front of him as well. After this interview, in a Dublin hotel, the Kellys head off through the rush hour to return to Moate. When I go to pay the bill I find that they have paid for my coffee as well their own.
