Revealed at last: the evidence that Julie Livingstone was hit by baton round fired at a forbidden range

FILE INTO ARMY'S KILLING OF THE BELFAST SCHOOLGIRL (14) IN 1981 WAS TO BE SEALED FOR ANOTHER 40 YEARS, BUT HAS NOW BEEN OPENED. IT RAISES RED FLAGS ABOUT RIOT GUN USE... AND THE AUTHORITIES' SECRECY OBSESSION

By Sam McBride, Northern Ireland Editor, Belfast Telegraph, July 13th, 2024

Julie Livingstone should be alive today. She might have now been a mother or a grandmother, spoiling her grandchildren and enjoying the peace she never experienced as a child. Instead, her life ended on a bleak May day in 1981.

A government file on the killing of the 14-year-old west Belfast girl has been sealed for decades, and was due to remain so until 2064. But it has in fact been opened at The National Archives in London, where the Belfast Telegraph discovered it. On the day Julie was shot with a plastic bullet, the front page of this newspaper reported on another horrific death.

The intro to the lead story in that evening's newspaper said: “Two children on horseback led the funeral cortege today of the 14-year-old boy who hoped that he would not grow too much so he could become a jockey.” Desmond Guiney was helping his father on his milk round in the New Lodge before going to school when a mob rioting in response to the republican hunger strike attacked them, causing the lorry to crash, trapping both.

Desmond's father Eric would die the day after his son's funeral. He would be buried alongside him. Beside the article was a report about another death, one which would play a part in that of Julie. The article said the family of hunger striker Francis Hughes believed he only had hours to live. They were right. He died that afternoon.

As news of the IRA man's death spread, protests and violence erupted in many republican areas, as it had done when Bobby Sands had died seven days earlier. Unionists called for the Army to return to its 1970s policy of shooting petrol bombers.

The FA had cancelled England's match against Northern Ireland at Windsor Park.

Against that backdrop of crisis, Julie was returning home with a friend when soldiers in two Saracens — six-wheeled armoured cars with a small turret on top — came upon a protest largely made up of women banging bin lids and blowing whistles.

Two of Julie’s brothers, Patrick and Martin, were in jail at the time for an IRA murder and attempted murder respectively (Patrick’s conviction was overturned by the Court of Appeal in 2013).

But Julie, the youngest in a large family, was said by her sister Bernadette to have been “the most innocent wee soul” who was “a nervous child when it came to violence”.

Another sister, Elizabeth McCurry, later recalled Julie “was terrified of the police and Army... she wouldn't have been anywhere near a riot”. An inquest jury took just over 10 minutes to return a clear verdict on Julie's killing: “We believe her to have been an innocent victim.” Yet, a Northern Ireland Office file relating to Julie's death, much of which involves the inquest, has only now been opened.

Last year Julie's family expressed dismay after The National Archives shut the file for another 45 years. Now that decision has been overturned, and it has been seen by this newspaper. Much of what it records is already known, such as press clippings and inquest statements. Why then retain it for so long when such papers are now meant to be released after 20 years?

Some of the pages have been withheld, and may be sensitive. However, that idea is undermined by the fact it was initially claimed the entire file was sensitive when that is demonstrably not the case. There is also evidence of the sort of reflexive bureaucratic secrecy which often makes the benign appear sinister.

Archivists have blacked out the address of the family home and the names of those who gave statements — even though they were reported at the time and those articles are freely available in newspaper libraries. Yet some of what it reveals raises questions about whether soldiers were regularly firing plastic bullets at ranges the authorities knew were likely to be deadly.

One of the central problems with baton rounds is that, at long range, they have poor accuracy, which can prove fatal, while at short range they can kill. Yet one of the reasons the PSNI still retains baton rounds (and which Sinn Féin, once implacably opposed to them, has accepted) is the difficulty in finding a less lethal alternative in a life-threatening situation. Without plastic bullets, police are left with tasers, tear gas, batons or live rounds.

In the declassified file there is a two-page memo on baton rounds. It was sent to senior NIO security official Paul Buxton accompanied by a handwritten note saying: “This is the 'under the counter' document given to me yesterday by [name redacted]. You may care to see.” The author's name is unclear but it appears to have been drawn up by either the RUC or Army.

It said: “It is quite clear that the use of the riot gun has been very successful, and it is because of this that PIRA have launched their propaganda campaign... the riot gun is absolutely essential to the security forces and there is no acceptable alternative... it would be disastrous to the security forces if pressure led to the withdrawal of this weapon.”

It said the Webley Schermuly riot gun entered use with the RUC in 1978 after being tested at the military's Chemical Defence Establishment at Porton Down “to ensure that the rules governing its use were such as to minimise the risk of injury”.

It went on to say the gun had an effective range of 30-50 metres and “Force regulations prohibit it from being fired at less than 20 metres... to prevent serious injury or loss of life. It should be recognised, however, that fatal injuries can still occur at ranges up to 40 metres”.

“A much more powerful baton round, a 45-grain PVC, is available but has not been issued to the Force. In the current emergency, it has been fired by the Army.”

The document said policy was that riot guns were “a defensive and not an offensive weapon”, only to be used “in public order situations to protect the lives of police officers or members of the public and to defend property. Its effectiveness in this role can be judged by the very small number of police casualties during the present emergency”.

The document said that “during the present situation” the police and Army had fired “probably in excess of 10,000 rounds”. Throughout the Troubles, some 126,000 baton rounds were discharged.

However, while it said there was a ban on firing the weapon at less than 20 metres, another document in the file shows an admission by a soldier not only that he routinely did so, but that he trained others. A 27-year-old sergeant from the Royal Regiment of Wales who was in one of the Saracens claimed in his statement to police he “spotted a youth with a lighted petrol bomb heading towards the rear door of the leading vehicle”. The soldier said that after throwing the petrol bomb the youth climbed on the vehicle's roof and he fired at the individual when he was “about 15 metres away”. As he shut the hatch he saw “a youth fall through the hedge to the right of our vehicle”. 

In fact, the person who fell through the hedge was Julie.

He said: “I am a weapon training instructor of approx four to five years. I have instructed other soldiers on the use of this gun and I know its limits... the best range for the use of this gun is 15 to 20 metes and you must aim at the trunk of the body.

“This should just knock someone over and wind then, enabling a snatch squad to arrest them but on this occasion it was decided to drive on because it was too dangerous to de-bus and the minimum amount of force that we could use to protect ourselves was the baton gun.”

Only three plastic bullets were recorded to have been fired by the Army that night, and none of the soldiers responsible would admit they'd hit a child.

A 24-year-old private said he was ordered to fire at “a male youth approaching the rear of the vehicle with what appeared to be a petrol bomb... as he turned away [the round] hit him in the back”.

A corporal, whose age wasn't given, said he'd fired at a male youth “running towards the near vehicle from the direction of the shop... in the act of throwing something”. He said: “I fired one round at him and saw it hit him on the left leg. He fell and crawled away holding his leg. This was the only baton round I fired.

“This youth was about 19 years old, long dark hair and dark leather jacket. All his clothes were dark coloured...at no time did I hit a girl with a baton round.”

When asked about the new information, the Ministry of Defence said: “Tragic incidents during the Troubles such as this were investigated at the time, and in many cases investigated since.

“The Independent Commission for Reconciliation and Information Recovery have now been set up to help families find answers and closure.”

In a May 1982 letter to the Crown Solicitor's Office, IW Sloan in the NIO's Police Division described Julie's inquest as “of particular interest” because the family was asking the High Court to have it reopened before a different coroner and a jury — something he believed other families may decide to copy.

The NIO believed a jury would be more sympathetic to the family than a judge. The following month the High Court ordered coroner James Elliott to reopen the inquest with a jury.

On July 1, 1982, after the High Court verdict, the issue attracted the attention of PJ Coby in the NIO's Security and International Division, the section of the NIO to which MI5 operatives tended to be attached. He wrote to a colleague in the Law and Order Division to request “a short background note of this development, and assessment of whether... this will become a significant issue”.

A few days later an M Bohill in the NIO's Political Affairs Division wrote: “There is no doubt that any new inquest into the death of this young girl will generate considerable domestic interest which may well be picked up internationally.” He went on: “The international lobby — especially in the USA — will not be slow to cash in on it...”

A hand-written account of the inquest, seemingly from an NIO official in Crumlin Road Courthouse on October 13, 1982, recorded that the driver of one of the Saracen vehicles said he could see a crowd of about 25, including women with bin lids, near Andersonstown Leisure Centre, and that they were “heavily petrol bombed”.

He said he had slowed the vehicle almost to a stop because there were so many petrol bombs that “there was fire inside the vehicle and on me...throwers advanced almost in front of the vehicle”.

The note went on to record what appears to be evidence of another witness, who was walking nearby. They saw “puffs of smoke and large bangs from two vehicles”. The person said a crowd had gathered round a young girl, but they “did not see any petrol bombs thrown”, a phrase underlined by the NIO official.

One of those involved in what she said was a nearby peaceful protest said that when she went to see Julie “I thought at first [the casualty] was a boy because the person was wearing jeans and had short hair”.

That woman rushed Julie to hospital with blood streaming from a wound near her right eye. She said: “On the way to the hospital the girl was conscious and she told us her name was Julie Livingstone.

“She didn't appear to be too badly injured.”

But the blow to Julie's right temple was fatal.

She died in the Royal Victoria Hospital the next day.

Julie's best friend Nuala Lowry, who was with her when she was shot, told the Belfast Telegraph at the time: “Julie was going to America to live when she was 18. I was going to go with her.”

What a waste of a young life — and what a failure to do the little that could be done by government, by instead clinging on to these records for decades and keeping them secret.