The man believed to have fired the first shot from the nationalist side on August 15, 1969 has given a vivid account of the events of that day.

The West Belfast man, who does not wish to be named, has never before given his account publicly. Handing over his extraordinary handwritten account, he said he believed his shots had been the first fired from the Catholic side.

This weekend marks the 40th anniversary of the pogroms of August 1969 when loyalists, B-Specials and the RUC invaded Catholic areas, shooting and burning as they went. In the hours that followed, three Catholics were shot dead as well as a Protestant rioter. As shots were fired into Catholic streets, nationalists had nothing but stones to defend themselves.

Now one of the few nationalists to have been armed that day has come forward to give his version of events to the Andersonstown News. The man, who later joined the IRA, recalls that his day started much the same as any other as he made his way to Mass, but soon he became aware of the burning of local houses. In his account he recalls helping people to pack up their belongings to flee. He also recalls seeing Fian Gerald McAuley being given the last rites. The man tells how he went to Andersonstown, where he knew there was a shotgun and shells, and brought them back to Clonard. He recalls finding the wounded Alex Robinson in Bombay Street and  carrying him to Clonard Gardens. He tells with brutal honesty of how he shot at and hit loyalist attackers.

40 years on, and for the first time, one of the defenders of the Falls tells how he engaged attackers:

"This is how my day started on August 15, 1969.

I went to collect my brother to go to early Mass in St Peter’s. His wife told me he was round at Conway Street and the houses were getting burned. I arrived at the top of Balaclava Street where about 40 people had gathered. My brother was there and some other people I recognised.

The B-Specials were lined across Conway Street, seven or eight of them, with their long, heavy, waterproof coats.

They all had machine guns across their chests. We could see the houses burning at the top of Conway Street.

I urged the crowd across the road and the Specials then reversed up Conway Street. About this time eight or nine houses were burning. Some people were trying to get their furniture out. The firemen were fighting a losing battle, some of their hoses had been cut in two, but they were still trying their best. 

We helped people get their furniture out. I went down to the Falls Road and stopped a really big tipper lorry. The driver agreed to help. He said he was a Protestant from Crossmaglen.

We loaded the lorry up and brought the lorry to St Peter’s School in Raglan Street, unloaded the lorry,  then back to Norfolk Street. By this time lots of foreign TV crews had arrived. There is always a funny scene. My brother was helping to take a wardrobe out of a bedroom window and the thing slipped and hit him on the head. A casualty. 

We reloaded the lorry and someone else went to the school with the driver. I did not see him after that. We were told that there was trouble in Dover Street so we went down. Everyone was walking up and down the Falls in complete bewilderment. I started to tell people that there would be a meeting  outside the Long Bar in Leeson Street at three o’clock.

We got to Dover Street, up to the very top. A man was there and was refusing to leave his house, also a man who I recognised  who worked in the dole in Corporation Street. There was a very vicious crowd from the Shankill urged on by a wee man.

After this everything was in complete turmoil. I met people telling me about the three o’ clock meeting. I reached the Springfield Road, someone had hijacked a bus, but couldn’t drive. I drove it to Linden Street, across the bottom.

I made my way up to the Springfield Road again. A man had just hijacked a milk lorry with about 40 big churns of fresh milk. I called the driver back, told him to take whatever he wanted out of the cab. He took his coat and cigarettes. The man who had hijacked the lorry couldn’t drive, so I brought the milk to St Teresa’s School then to the Holy Child and back down to St Finian’s School.

By this time it had just turned three o’clock. I was approached to bring the lorry to Brown’s Square, but I wanted to go to the meeting, someone else took the lorry. People were walking back up Leeson Street. I asked about the result of the meeting. It seems the IRA said they were patrolling the district in a car, that was it.

I was then told about the trouble at Kashmir Road – this was about 3.30pm. 

When I got up to the Monastery (Clonard) I saw a priest giving a lad the last rites. Later I discovered it was Gerald McAuley. I went to the Kashmir Road and was throwing stones into a crowd in Cupar Street – futile. I asked some lads did they know how to make petrol bombs and they all chorused yes. I told them to come with me and we would do the petrol station at the corner of Springfield Crescent. When we got to the Springfield Road hundreds were coming out of Mackies. 

I stopped a Red Morris 1100. I told him I needed a lift to Andersonstown. I knew where to get a shotgun there.

He was persuaded. I got the gun but only 14 cartridges. When I got back to Clonard Street, someone said there was shooting from the top of Ross’s Mill. I went across the gardens of the monastery, false alarm. I then went up the Kashmir Road. There were maybe a hundred people or so, one priest among them. He did not want me to go down to shoot anyone. He heard my confession. A bloke said he was in the American Army and said he would go with me. I went through a house in Kane Street, the only noise in there was a clock ticking, really scary.

 When I turned round the other bloke had run back again. I reached Bombay Street and saw what I thought was a bundle of clothes, it was Alex Robinson. I carried him on my shoulder back up the way I had come. When I got to the corner of Kane Street, no-one made an attempt to help me. I carried him to Clonard Gardens and then someone took him off my shoulder. I went back down the same way. A lorry was burning across the opening of Kane Street, Cupar Street. I looked through the cab. Two men with one rifle close together. I took aim, pulled the trigger, nothing happened. It had an automatic safety catch, by this time my nerves had gone. I blasted both of them. Then I ran up to Kashmir Road, Cupar Street, Bombay Street opening. Just to make them think there was more than one weapon. In Cupar Street a man had a binlid in one hand and a revolver in his right hand. I did not think that I would reach him so I fired  well over his head. Success. He went up in the air and landed on all fours. I then made my way back up to Clonard Street, the crowd had increased. I was told the British army would shoot on sight anyone with a weapon. 

I went into the Monastery. Fr McLaughlin was giving out communion. I put the gun under the back seat. We both went back out to the crowd. Fr McLaughlin asked where was the British army. He was told that they had just marched down Clonard Street.

 I was told to go back and get the gun. I came back out, at this time St Gall’s school was starting to burn underneath. A bloke went with me into the school. When we got to the first landing someone shot at us. I grabbed a surveyor’s staff and threw it through the window and got up to the top floor.

This was facing an opening from Cupar Street to the Monastery. Luckily for me the shooter was left-handed so when he came out to fire I had full view of him. That was the last of that rifle.

I had to leave the school, the smoke was getting really bad. It was about nine o’clock. I went to the Monastery and was shown into a room overlooking the bottom corner of Waterville Street. Previously I had got a box of cartridges nearly full (about 20) just handed to me.

Just after ten o’clock the British army had moved into the Monastery and Waterville Street. Not long after the most frightening noise erupted, like Indians in a Cowboy film. A crowd was coming round the corner from Cupar Street. The leaders were armed, one was at the corner of Waterville Street. The British army were told to retreat but one had stayed in the end garden.

I blasted the bloke with the revolver in his hand, got him in the face. The Brit got shot in the ear. I threw the empty cartridge out the window. A couple of days later a photo of the Brit with the empty cartridge was in the newspaper.

I went down the next day to check the wall, the slugs had penetrated a quarter of an inch into the wall, so that shooter would find it hard to see. I then moved rooms in the Monastery in case the room was searched. This room was overlooking the opening from Cupar Street to the Monastery. The British army were now in Clonard Gardens, it was about 2am. A lighter was lit, I thought it was soldiers, but two blokes on top of the wall were lighting a petrol bomb. Lucky they were close together so one shot was enough. 

At about 4am I was completely knackered, my eyes were burning from gas bombs the British army had exploded. I gave the gun to someone to hide. I walked to the Springfield Road and hailed a car (stupid, I know). I asked if they were going to Andersonstown. They were from Ardoyne going to Dunmurry to check on their mother. 

I got home 22 hours later. A  long, long day."