II. INTRODUCTION
2. Flexibilidad metabólica
3.1 Endotoxemia metabólica
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eetings in The Mitre still drew good attendances. Morale was high and in the aftermath of the Toxteth riots there were several new recruits. Bob Marsh and Alfie Marquis of the UDA still showed up selling UDA paraphernalia. This mainly consisted of Loyalist Prisoner Aid material, such as LP records or UDA badges. One Monday night in November 1981, Bob Marsh informed those present at The Mitre about a forthcoming ‘IRA’march. This took place November each year, in Manchester. The march was to commemorate the so-called ‘Manchester martyrs’.
The Manchester ‘martyrs’ were Irish nationalists executed for the murder of a policeman during the rescue of republican prisoners. In September 1867 these men had freed Colonel Thomas J Kelly and Captain Timothy Deasy from custody. Kelly and Deasy were both Fenians who had played important roles in the abortive Fenian Rising earlier that year. Kelly had been declared Chief Executive of the Irish Republican Brotherhood at a secret Republican convention. Deasy had commanded a Fenian brigade in County Cork. Both men were wanted throughout Britain and Ireland, and had been arrested on a vagrancy charge shortly beforehand.
On 18th September, both men were to be escorted to the County gaol on Hyde Road. Handcuffed and locked in two separate compartments inside a police van, they were accompanied by a squad of twelve mounted police officers. On the borders of West Gorton and Ardwick, between Salford and Manchester, the van passed under a railway arch. A man leapt forward to the middle of the road and pointed a pistol at the driver. He called on him to stop. Simultaneously a group of about thirty men clambered over a wall at the side of the road. Surrounding the van they seized the horses, shooting one. A police officer and a passer-by were shot and wounded. The other unarmed officers could offer little resistance and fled the scene.
Failing to burst open the van with hatchets, sledgehammers or crowbars, the Fenians called upon Police Sergeant Brett, inside the van with the prisoners, to open the door. Sergeant Brett refused. One of the rescuers placed his revolver at the keyhole of the van and fired. At the same moment Brett put his eye to the keyhole to see what was happening outside. The
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bullet went through his eye into his brain killing him. A female prisoner passed the van key through the ventilator shaft and Colonel Kelly and Captain Deasy escaped, never to be recaptured.
After a chase, the police made twenty-nine arrests including, they claimed, the men who had fired the revolvers. William O’Mera Allen, Michael Larkin, William O’Brien (or Goold), Thomas Maguire and Edward Stone were convicted and sentenced to death. Maguire was pardoned and discharged – a victim of mistaken identity. Stone, an American citizen, had his sentence commuted on the eve of his execution. Allen, Larkin and O’Brien (aka Goold) were publicly hanged in Manchester, on November 23rd, 1867.
The march was scheduled for late November and was always held on the nearest Sunday to the 23rd. We all agreed to meet outside The Mitre the following Sunday. Steve Farrell would pick us up in his van. He urged as many people as possible to come, as his van could accommodate large numbers. In fact, we nearly got forty people in it during the general election meeting in Wallasey 1979. Bob Marsh had promised a good turn out from the UDA. He predicted the IRA march would be stopped in its tracks, as it had been in previous years.
Jimmy McGhee had promised to bring a few workmates from Moss Side hospital. Some of these had been at the 1979 NF Remembrance Day march in London, and were dedicated nationalists. Ken Usher and all the NSPUK were coming, as were Alan Ash and a few British Movement lads. Overall, it looked like a very exciting day, with the prospect of smashing a few Reds up. This type of IRA-style march was always supported by the far left. The same far left that would attack our marches, meetings and paper sales – Sunday couldn’t come quickly enough.
I got to The Mitre sometime on Sunday morning and was amazed to see how many had turned up. There must have been between fifty and sixty assorted nationalists, and that wasn’t counting the UDA contingent. Luckily, for us, some came in their own cars. We were able to ferry people to The Tugboat public house, on Netherfield Road, where we were to meet Bob Marsh. We did not have enough space in Steve Farrell’s van to fit everyone in. The combined Loyalist/UDA turnout was quite good, and could have been anything between a hundred and fifty and two hundred people.
Some of the lads with cars left them at the Tugboat and jumped in with the UDA people, who had several vans en-route to Manchester. Bob Marsh decided to jump in Steve’s van and direct us to where we had to assemble for our counter demo. Also jumping into the van with us was an Asian. A deathly silence descended on Steve’s van as we tried to fathom out who this person was, and whether he knew who we were? Maybe he thought we were Orange Lodge or UDA members. Anyway, no one said a word
47 during the whole of the journey to Manchester. An hour later we were in Manchester, disembarked from the van and stretched our legs. A number of people demanded to know from Bob Marsh who the paki was in the van.
He replied, “Kumar Singh. Kumar’s an Orange Lodge member – and a UDA member too. He’s a staunch Loyalist.”
Some of the lads weren’t very happy, but let it go because we had bigger fish to fry than Kumar Singh. At least Kumar was on our side when it came to Red traitors. I now know that the name signifies he was a Sikh, not a Pakistani Muslim.
It was a good turnout that day there must have been over five hundred assorted British nationalists and Loyalists – the Manchester NF had turned out in large numbers. After getting the run-around from the police, we ended up outside the cemetery in Moston where the Manchester Martyrs monument is situated. The location is purely a symbolic. Their actual bodies had been buried in quicklime inside the prison. All human remains were removed from there in 1991, cremated then buried in a mass grave. Anyway, the counter-demonstrators had been scattered owing to misinformation.
Therefore, when we eventually found the march there were only about a hundred or so of us. There could not have been more that a hundred Reds on the march, consisting of the usual anti-British traitors.
In we charged at the scum, but were beaten back by the police. Some of the Loyalist contingent was arrested. We followed the march on this cold, rainy, November Sunday shouting slogans such as, “Smash! Smash! Smash the IRA!”
And “Keep Ulster British!”
The Republicans didn’t look too concerned, as they knew our numbers weren’t going to pose a serious threat to them. We hotly pursued them hoping that the other four hundred or so Loyalists/ British nationalists would find the procession. I wondered if they’d turn up before the march ended, or if our right of way would be blocked by the police.
Sadly, the rest of our counter-demo was nowhere to be seen, and ended up lost in the search for the pro-IRA parade. All the same we had turned out impressive numbers, given it a good shot, but were out-manoeuvred by the police.
Not long after the Manchester Martyrs parade Bob Marsh asked me to join the UDA. Caught up in supporting Loyalist causes, and counter-demonstrating against republican marches, I said ‘yes’. I thought it a good idea, as it would give me an opportunity to meet like-minded people whom I could direct a little further than The Sash My Father Wore. I’d also managed to recruit John, a skinhead from the NF, to join the UDA with me. Bob
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Marsh informed me there was an Orange Lodge parade in Scarborough, and that was where our initiation would take place. John the skin and I made our way to Bob’s on a Saturday morning and were met by Alfie Marquis. Alfie informed us we’d be going shortly, and would be travelling in a mini-bus.
Alfie had been a long-term member of the Orange Lodge and fervent Loyalist.
He’d also been a UDA man for some time. Our mini-bus arrived with Bob Marsh at the wheel – it was a long drive to Scarborough. The journey gave me plenty of time to think about what I was doing, and what sort of ceremony awaited us.
Finally we reached the seafront, and rendezvoused with small contingents of bandsmen from the Orange Lodges which were forming up. The actual parade in Scarborough was to give support to a new band, recently formed.
We disembarked from the mini-bus and stretched our legs. I recognised a few Lodge members from Liverpool and said hello. I very much doubt whether they had any idea why I was at the parade that day. The bands eventually formed up and paraded through the resort of Scarborough, to the beat of lambeg drums and the strains of The Sash My Father Wore. A large hall had been booked by the local Lodge, where we all descended for a buffet meal and drink once the parade had ended.
Once inside John and I followed Bob and Alfie to the upstairs of the hall to be greeted by other Lodge and UDA men. A sort of quasi-religious ceremony was now to be performed, involving the swearing of loyalty to Queen and country, and the loyal people of Ulster. I was quite nervous and didn’t really know what to expect. I pledged on the Bible my undying loyalty to the UDA and vowed that I would fight to the death against its enemies and all who threatened it. Before I knew it was all over, and a big weight was now lifted from my shoulders. Bob, Alfie and several other Loyalist/
UDA men all shook my hand and congratulated me. Just when I thought it was all over some mad Scotsman produced a handgun, started waving it about and pointed it in my direction. Now I don’t know to this day whether he was drunk or it was part of the act. Anyway, he was shoved into a corner and had the revolver taken from him. We then headed back downstairs and got the drinks in.
We finally left Scarborough in the early hours of the morning and headed back to Liverpool. Several weeks later I was informed that the real reason for us travelling to Scarborough was not to lend support to a newly formed Lodge, but to pick up a cache of weapons – how true this was I don’t know. What I do know is this: I never once saw any firearms, or any active service whilst in the UDA. They spent most of the time in the pub, or on silly Orange Lodge marches. Their outlook in life was about maintaining Orange dominance in Northern Ireland, never once seeing the bigger picture
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49 or problems that faced us all. They would let anyone into their ranks so long as they were against the Catholics. Most were true patriots and genuinely loved their country, but just couldn’t escape silly sectarianism. As with Kumar Singh, they simply couldn’t grasp that saving our culture and identity was equally as important (actually of far more importance) as saving Ulster.
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