Hunger

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Northern Ireland 1981

The British Government has withdrawn the political status

of all paramilitary prisoners.

Irish Republicans in the Maze Prison

are on a "blanket" and "no wash" protest.

There is a dirty protest, the Blanket Protest,

which has been going on for years,

all in support of the same demand: political status.

That is to say,

different treatment for people who commit crimes,

hideous crimes,

for what they claim to be a political motive

and that is what the Government will not grant.

So Daniel he eears a noise coming from his Granny's room

he runs up to his Granny's room, he opens the door

and there's a waifer having a go with his Granny.

The naughty fellow turns around and says:

See, it's not so f***ing funny with a German one.

There is no such thing as political murder,

political bombing or political violence.

There is only criminal murder,

criminal bombing and criminal violence.

We will not compromise on this

There will be no political status.

I will not wear the uniform of a criminal.

I demand to wear me own clothes.

Non-conforming prisoner 08-12-1980

What?

What's it you say your name is again ?

Gilan.

- Gilan. - Aye.

Fancy Quinn.

Falls Road. Fancy Quinn.

Do you know him?

No.

No ?

How long did you get ?

Twelve years.

And you?

Six years. Six.

Six ?

Aye.

You lucky bastard.

...the political adviser of Merlin Reese

when he was at the Home Office with Roger Darlington.

He rejects the official position on phone taps, saying that there has been only a modest overall increase.

and says that Parliament has no way of knowing how much tapping goes on

because the Prime Minister and other senior Ministers don't even have to get warrants to get a tap put into effect.

What ?

Get ready.

Are you ll right, Bobby?

I'm grand Ma.

Are they giving you treatment for that ?

It's been looked after.

And the young fellow ?

He's a handful, I tell you that.

Are you eating all right ?

- I'm grand, Ma.

Are they feeding you all right ?

- Don't you two be worrying about me.

Five minutes.

Five minutes .

You eating all right ?

Aye...

It tastes like sh*t, doesn't it ?

You get used to it.

You're looking well.

So are you, son. So are you.

The righteous cry out.

And the Lord hears them.

He delivers them from all their troubles.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are Christians first.

The righteous man has many troubles,

but the Lord delivers him from them all.

He protects all his bones

and not one of them will be broken.

Evil will slay the wicked and the foes of the righteous will be condemned.

The Lord redeems his servants.

No one will be condemned,

who finds refuge in Him.

Let us pray.

Damn dirty bastards!

- F***ing dirty bastards!

I - I - I. R. A. I - I - I. R. A.

I - I - I. R. A. I - I - I. R. A.

F***ing bastards.

Everything in order ?

- Yes, sir, in order, sir.

Very good.

John. John!

Get the f*** off me.

See that? See that?

Get the f*** off me.

What are you doing to him?

Get the f*** off me, you damn ...

Hi Mom.

Why are you doing sitting in here?

Daisies.

You can sit down any time you like.

Priest etiquette.

Never sit before you're asked.

Sit down, Don.

Don't look them over till you're eager.

Best to hover at the door.

You learned that your first week at the seminary, boy.

Cig ?

Come on.

Bit of a break from smoking the Bible, eh?

Work out which pick is the best smoke ?

We only smoke the Lamentations. Just right for a cigarette.

Nice room.

Very clean.

Where is it you're from again, Don ?

Guess.

Ballygobackwards.

Oh, the city dog.

- Ballyroberts.

We play south of Ballymonie: Kilrea.

I remember a homily you did in March sometime.

Will you listen to it ?

I'm sure the men hold you in high esteem.

I can feel a dig coming on.

You're very quick.

Right.

No, you're respected, you know that.

I like those stories you tell about the countryside.

A child held for poaching, robbing apples, stampeding cattle...

Fine education for a priest.

A priest working in West Belfast ? It is, aye.

Stampeding comes in handy down in the Falls Road, eh ?

The RUC hate me.

(Royal Ulster Police, Protestant police.)

You miss it though ?

- What?

The countryside.

I sort of get home and see my wee brother every month or so...

but I miss the usual clean air... space, all that.

It feels closer to who you are.

That it is, no question.

Something like a fish out of water working in a big city like Belfast...

but it's a job, isn't it ?

You stop looking around at your surroundings quick enough when you figure

that your business is the business of the soul and all.

Business of the soul ?

Aye. You know what I mean.

I'm going down the same way too ?

Aye, and you can use that for your charge.

Go on.

Well, I suppose what I'm saying is...

you get on.

Kilrea can wait until I'm an old man.

Too many scavengers will be saved in Belfast anyway.

Busy work, aye.

Should God award you in heaven ?

Aye, and I'll be thankful.

Once there's wine involved.

So what does your wee brother do back home ?

He is parish priest.

He's a sneaky wee bastard.

You know the sort, Bobby.

Still goes poaching.

Poaching jobs.

And he's younger than me by 8 years all right.

Go on.

As a clergic, I work in a parish beside Kilrea. We hold the place...

working my ass off.

Escorting the elderly, mobile confession.

The glamorous stuff.

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