'The hairs stand up on my neck when I think of that bomb'

Many fisherman have used it over the years, and even more have appreciated the beauty of the lough from the platform near Trory.

But for one local fisherman, Tony Green, the peg carries a much deeper significance.

Every time he walks past it, his mind flits back to the events of 40 years ago.

He was only 22 at the time, he recalls, and as a keen young fisherman, he had travelled from his native England to Enniskillen to take part in the annual Sealink Classic fishing competition.

He remembers his elation when he was allocated Peg 28 – a prime spot for fishing that would greatly help his odds.

He remembers the craic in the coach to the Lakeland Forum when the day’s fishing came to a close, and recalls walking over to his friend for a chat, keen to boast about his success.

But Tony also remembers the “crack” of the bomb that went off as he walked, which blew up a car only a few feet away from him.

Tony miraculously survived the blast. Others weren’t as fortunate.

Cpl. Thomas Agar and L/Cpl. Robert Huggins died instantly in the attack, set by the Provisional IRA on May 18, 1984.

A further two people suffered life-changing injuries, including L/Cpl. Peter Gallimore, who suffered severe burns and died five months later, and Cpl. Clive Aldridge, who lost both his legs in the explosion.

To this day, Tony can’t understand how he escaped unharmed.

“The bomb went off with what could only be described as a crack,” he recounted.

“We were blown to the floor. I remember looking up, and debris was still in the air. It was like everything was in slow motion.

“I looked at my body. I was still alive. Those were my thoughts: ‘It’s a bomb, and I’m still alive. It’s a bomb. I’m still alive’,” he recounted.

Tony stood up. The scene around him was “utter carnage”.

He remembers his friend pulling the late Clive Aldridge from the burning car, and laying him flat on the grass.

Another person pulled Peter Gallimore from the vehicle, laying him on the tarmac.

“He [Peter] screamed on that tarmac,” Tony recalled. “It was a scream like you’ve never heard before. It went straight to my core.”

Ambulances soon arrived on the scene. Tony and his fellow fisherman were told to leave. He still can’t remember how he got back to the former Lough Erne Hotel in Kesh, his movements remaining a blur.

‘Complete shock’ “We were in complete shock, but obviously we got some way back to the Lough Erne [hotel],” he said.

“The next day we were interviewed by the police, and before we knew it, we were on the ferry back to England.

“There was no follow up. We may as well have been told, ‘Right, go get on with your life’.”

‘Fortunate’ Tony was able to leave the scene of the devastating bomb, and continue on with his life in England, as it was.

But he admits that the immediate aftermath of the incident took its toll.

He suffered hearing injuries, and as a builder by trade, he said that he would “jump out of his skin” when he heard any loud noise on the building site.

Around five months later, he was saddened to hear on the grapevine that Peter Gallimore had died from his injuries. For decades afterwards, he assumed that Clive Aldridge had suffered the same fate.

The mental scars never left Tony, but he went on to have a family, and to establish a successful business.

But all along the way, Tony grappled with the guilt that others, mere feet away from him, were robbed of these things on that day.

“What happened on that day is never far from my mind,” said Tony.

“We were just innocent fishermen, on a high after a lovely week’s fishing.

“We were just young lads over for the thrill of it. It was a big entry of fishermen, and we were all part of it, part of the excitement.

“What unfolded on that final day has stuck with me.”

He continued: “My thoughts have always been with those fishermen. To me, those four men were the same as me – they were just fishing that competition.

“But it cost three of them their lives, and caused another an horrendous amount of pain and hardship.”

Terrible atrocity For years, Tony carried the burden of being a miraculous survivor amid a terrible atrocity. For 30 years, he didn’t return to Enniskillen; the memories and trauma were too much.

It’s perhaps unsurprising, then, that what led him back to Enniskillen was what brought him over in the first place: fishing.

“I didn’t return to Enniskillen for the longest time, but then, through fishing, people asked me to come back,” he said.

“I wasn’t up for it, but I soon discovered that the more I came back, the easier it was.

“I decided that I really like the tranquillity. At the time, I had a very pressurised job, and it was getting more and more stressful all the time.

“Revisiting Fermanagh sort of opened my eyes. What was I doing with my life? I sold my house in England, and I came here.”

That was in 2014; the past ten years have been a rollercoaster of emotions for Tony. Determined to face his trauma, one of the first things Tony when he settled in Enniskillen did was to revisit the site of the bomb.

“I remember driving out to the Forum to go to that spot,” he recounts. “I knew where the exact spot was. All the hairs stood up on my neck. I knew it was the place.

“When the bomb went off, there were little saplings around. They are now huge, fully grown trees. There was a poppy on one of them.”

Tony called into the nearby Royal British Legion. He was shocked to hear that the late Clive Aldridge had not only survived his injuries, but had gone on to represent his country in sailing for disabled athletes, winning a range of titles.

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard he had lived for 30 years! It was a miracle, but also bittersweet.

“When I came back, he had passed away the year before. I never got to meet him, to introduce myself.

“I suppose, one of my regrets – if that’s the proper term – is that I never got to meet Clive, and to shake his hand.

“I would have loved to have done that; to have just said, in some small way, that we helped.

“My friend saved his life; he pulled Clive from the car, and passed him over the fence. He is directly responsible for saving Clive’s life.”

Little did Tony know that his visit to the Royal British Legion that day was to be the start of a journey of healing and reconciliation.

A “kind soul at the Legion” signposted him to the victims support charity, South East Fermanagh Foundation (SEFF), where, after decades, he spoke about what he had seen on the day of the Lakeland Forum Bomb.

“On that day, I made the first steps to talk about it all,” he said. “I was told about SEFF, and I went up to Lisnaskea to have a talk with Kenny [Donaldson, Director, SEFF].

“It was such a relief for me. I got back into the car that day to drive away, and I felt that a massive load had been lifted off me.

“It was a turning point. It was the start of me being fully able to deal with this.”

For Tony, settling in Enniskillen – the scene of his trauma – has also helped him to come to terms with his past.

“Moving here has been crucial in helping me to deal with this trauma – otherwise, I would have just been distanced from it.

“Now, it’s real. Now, I can face it. I can go to the Forum, I can go swimming. I don’t have to bottle it up any more. The future’s brighter, because it’s all out in the open.”

This Saturday (May 18), Tony will join numerous others in marking the memory of those who lost their lives and were injured on that day.

SEFF will host some 15 members across the four families when they return to Fermanagh, with a special service of Remembrance to be held in the Legion, followed by the unveiling of a new memorial bench.

Nowadays, Tony is enjoying retirement, which he spends in Trory in what he described as a “fisherman’s paradise”.

And situated just a brisk walk away from his quaint black and white cottage is ‘Peg 28’.

Now aged 63, he passes the peg often - and he fully appreciates how being allocated that peg altered the course of his life.

“I still get triggers when I go past Peg 28. I have gone through it many times. What if I hadn’t have been [assigned] that peg? What if I had have been on a different bus? What if the traffic lights were red?

“If any of these things happened, I wouldn’t have been near the bomb. It would have just been another newspaper report.

‘Human nature’ “It’s human nature to think that things could have been different.”

But as he looks out on the magnificent Lough Erne, Tony knows such thoughts lead only to a dead end.

“My closure comes when I walk down to that lake, and stand on the jetty, looking out to the vastness of Lough Erne,” he concluded.

“I will remember I was sat there as a young man that day, and I think, somewhere, out in the vastness, there’s a reason why. A reason why some were okay, and those lads weren’t.

“It’s a question we will never have the answer to.”