Some things don’t change.

Image and article credit: The Irish News, March 23, 2011.

When I was in the OTC (Officer Training Corps – the Territorial Army for University Undergraduates), a similar display of paramilitary force was pretty much the norm every time we went to stay in a camp – be it Ballykinler, Garelochead or elsewhere.

The senior cadets would stand at the top of the billet, dressed in fatigues and black balaclavas and pose with their SLRs in front of Union Jacks and Red Hand flags. They’d belt out verses of the Sash and be very critical of those of us who didn’t know it – demanding that we perform The Soldier Song instead. Another song I didn’t know. Or ignore jibes about how they knew I was a Taig because I looked like one.

It even got to the point where I’d volunteer for guard duty in the evenings. Which was the most boring activity in the world.

Was it all intimidating? Yes. As a Catholic in the early nineties who had dared to join the British Army (even just as a weekend soldier) it was intimidating because it damaged the trust that the training was meant to instil.

I was raised as a Catholic but consider myself an atheist. I’m a proud British subject and an Irishman by nationality. I love my country and I’m proud of the Cross of Saint Patrick in the Union Jack.

I loved being in the British Army. We learned about first aid, orienteering, took trips in RIBs and helicopters, camped in the pouring rain in Scotland and the blustering, freezing gales in the North West of Ireland. We learned about rifles, how to shoot, make them safe and how to respect their power. And I appreciate the work our military does – even though I may not agree with the government which directs it.

And every now and then I am re-introduced to one of the balaclava-wearing bigots in my day job and I do my best to forget. Unlike the children in these photos, these bigots were adults. They knew exactly what they were doing.