15 October 1998 Edition
Editor's desk
Last year we told how the Chinese People's Liberation Army made a tidy sum from opening its firing range outside Beijing to rich Western tourists. After handing over their US dollars tourists can fire off anything from a handgun to an anti-tank missile. Many, particularly Americans, do so with great glee.
Little did we think that this piece of capitalist enterprise might be suggested as a means of getting round the decommissioning wrangle. But now, according to that font of all knowledge, the Sunday World, the IRA is charging tourists from the Six Counties who visit Donegal, Kerry and Cork fifty quid to visit their training camps.
``It was really good. Firing all those rounds is the best way to get away from the pressures of daily life and forgetting all your troubles at home,'' one ex-prisoner is quoted as saying. ``This way we get rid of the stuff - the bullets and ammunition (sic) - and make money as well without having to hand over the stuff to the Brits,'' he/she says.
So there you are. They make money, have a bit of craic and solve the biggest political problem of the day. What more could you want?
Meanwhile the overstaffed RUC have problems of their own. In Newry recently a young lad was playing truant from school. Two RUC men in an armoured car spotted him in the Belfast Road area of the town and challenged him. The lad took to his heels with a well-paid RUC man in pursuit. Meanwhile his heavily armed mate radioed for reinforcements.
Our young hero headed through a housing estate and down to the canal with fat peelers converging on him from all angles. For half an hour they searched in vain as the lad made a daring escape across the canal and into the Mourneview Estate. Still they searched and their numbers grew. This was a manhunt to rival anything put into operation after the mass escape from Long Kesh. An hour later seven RUC vehicles - yes, seven - were parked in two streets in Mourneview as the RUC continued to hunt for the dangerous runaway.
He was eventually found by his uncle hiding in a wardrobe in his (his uncle's) house, shaking and frightened.
Where would we be without this fine force? Chris Patten take note.
In Dublin another fine organisation, the Royal British Legion, caught my attention. Readers of Commuting Times, a paper handed out free to travellers on the DART suburban railway line, were exposed to a startling revelation.
The paper carried an article about a recent British Legion trip on the DART. It tells us, breathlessly, that the annual outing of 82 members of the British Legion ``almost became derailed when the sherry was produced only to discover there were no sherry glasses.'' Dear me, what an absolute tragedy.
``I was sure I had packed the glasses,'' said the trip's organiser Peter Huntley. But he hadn't, of course. So what did they do, I hear you ask. (Or maybe not.)
Commuting Times tells us that ``a stop was made [and] the glasses procured''. Thank God for that. And then, what a hoot, Peter discovered he had packed the glasses in a different bag. Ho ho, silly Billy.
No wonder people fall asleep on the DART.
Little did we think that this piece of capitalist enterprise might be suggested as a means of getting round the decommissioning wrangle. But now, according to that font of all knowledge, the Sunday World, the IRA is charging tourists from the Six Counties who visit Donegal, Kerry and Cork fifty quid to visit their training camps.
``It was really good. Firing all those rounds is the best way to get away from the pressures of daily life and forgetting all your troubles at home,'' one ex-prisoner is quoted as saying. ``This way we get rid of the stuff - the bullets and ammunition (sic) - and make money as well without having to hand over the stuff to the Brits,'' he/she says.
So there you are. They make money, have a bit of craic and solve the biggest political problem of the day. What more could you want?
Meanwhile the overstaffed RUC have problems of their own. In Newry recently a young lad was playing truant from school. Two RUC men in an armoured car spotted him in the Belfast Road area of the town and challenged him. The lad took to his heels with a well-paid RUC man in pursuit. Meanwhile his heavily armed mate radioed for reinforcements.
Our young hero headed through a housing estate and down to the canal with fat peelers converging on him from all angles. For half an hour they searched in vain as the lad made a daring escape across the canal and into the Mourneview Estate. Still they searched and their numbers grew. This was a manhunt to rival anything put into operation after the mass escape from Long Kesh. An hour later seven RUC vehicles - yes, seven - were parked in two streets in Mourneview as the RUC continued to hunt for the dangerous runaway.
He was eventually found by his uncle hiding in a wardrobe in his (his uncle's) house, shaking and frightened.
Where would we be without this fine force? Chris Patten take note.
In Dublin another fine organisation, the Royal British Legion, caught my attention. Readers of Commuting Times, a paper handed out free to travellers on the DART suburban railway line, were exposed to a startling revelation.
The paper carried an article about a recent British Legion trip on the DART. It tells us, breathlessly, that the annual outing of 82 members of the British Legion ``almost became derailed when the sherry was produced only to discover there were no sherry glasses.'' Dear me, what an absolute tragedy.
``I was sure I had packed the glasses,'' said the trip's organiser Peter Huntley. But he hadn't, of course. So what did they do, I hear you ask. (Or maybe not.)
Commuting Times tells us that ``a stop was made [and] the glasses procured''. Thank God for that. And then, what a hoot, Peter discovered he had packed the glasses in a different bag. Ho ho, silly Billy.
No wonder people fall asleep on the DART.