Word: pubs
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...cellar of a pub, a provisional spoke of the hatred for the British "army of occupation." "In the beginning our only weapons were 'Belfast confetti'-rivets, bottles and stones-but now we have guns and plenty of ammunition. And I'll tell you this: we won't be wild geese [exiles] no more. We are going to fight this through till...
Before setting out on a pub crawl through Belfast with two young friends from Scotland's Royal Highland Fusiliers, Dougald McCaughy, 23, dutifully telephoned his aunt in Glasgow. "Is everything quiet?" she asked anxiously. He laughed. "Are you kidding?" Three hours later Dougald's aunt received another call from Belfast. On a narrow roadway on Squires Hill, four miles west of Ulster's capital, a pair of schoolboys had found the bodies of Dougald and his two friends, brothers Joseph, 18, and John McCaig, 17. The corpses were heaped grotesquely on top of one another...
Revealing Burrs. Police believe that the young Scots, unarmed, dressed in civvies and carrying five-hour passes from their battalion, had decided to down a few pints in Kellys Cellars, a picturesque Belfast pub that dates from the early 1800s and is frequented by Catholic Republicans. Even out of uniform, the young soldiers would have easily tipped their identities with their burrs. Belfast Catholics hate the Scottish troops even more than the English because the Scots have been in the vanguard of many of the arms searches in Catholic homes. Besides, they are predominantly Protestant. The three fusiliers were probably...
Faith is difficult to analyze. I was in England in 1966 when Cooper fought Clay. At a pub in Cambridge a drunken racist kept saying that "Cooper's the hand of God. He's the white hope. He's beautiful." Of course, he was all wrong, but I liked his reasoning. He had faith, misguided though it was, in the slow, brick-like frame of Cooper. He is the only person I've ever met who really had faith in an athlete. Sure, people have bet fortunes on one man or another, but they bet on statistics. They are people...
...less! But it didn't seem like the time to argue, and so I played an obedient Clark Kent to her Lois Lane. Three big whacks and two little nudges with her brick-filled book bag and we were at the Jolly Green Giant, a health-food pub, which, despite its name, does not discriminate against small, nongreen people...