Grecian Gropes And Macedonian Meanders-Part 2

After two hours of being bored by foreign speeches and absurd ceremony whilst having the cobwebs blown from us and being washed with rain, the party ended, the uniforms were saluted, the Greek Army marched away with their band and we made our way to the bus.  We had a date at the Greek Army Officers Club for lunch in Polycastro and a lovely buffet lunch it was with copious wine to go with it.  I was kitted out in Connaught Ranger blazer and tie trying to eat my salad and cold meats when a French Admiral in his whites and medals galore came over to engage in conversation, not a trace of a French accent but there was a trace of South Dublin.  He had recognised the crest on my blazer, his father he told me had been in the Munster Fusiliers and that he had spent his early life in Dalkey in South Dublin Bay.  He told me that he was Naval Attache to the French Ambassador in Athens and that his name was Colman.  Who said the tradition of the Wild Geese had gone, here was one alive and kicking in front of me.  We chatted for some minutes until a small Greek Army officer came up and he morphed into French with ease.  A nice chap and a pleasure to talk to.

After lunch and it was back on the bus and we headed for the Doiran Memorial, just on the Greek side of the Macedonian border. overlooking Lake Doiran and most of the adjacent countryside.  A most imposing setting where the Commonwealth War Graves Committee were holding a centenary commemoration.  It was a Menin Gate type of memorial listing the names of the dead who fought at Kosturino in early December 1915 who had no known grave.  It was clear looking at the list that the Connaught Rangers with 110 names had taken the biggest beating of all the regiments there.  The poor 5th Battalion  having been reduced to 135 officers and men coming off Gallipoli from the 800 who had landed 55 days previously and having been rebuilt to a strength of 1000 officers and men were again laid flat with a 50% casualty rate.  No wonder Acting Lieutenant Colonel Henry Jourdain had a breakdown shortly after Christmas and had to be shipped home to England.

After a quick visit to the Greek Cemetery, we stopped at Doiran Military Cemetery at the bottom of the hill where only one Connaught Ranger was buried, 5375 James Smith from Bellshill in Glasgow was buried.  He had been captured by the Bulgarians at Kosturino on 7th December 1915, had taken ill whilst a POW and had been repatriated but had died of pneumonia on 10th October 1918 nearly a year after the 5th Battalion had left these shores for Palestine.  In fact they were at that time taking another beating at Cambrai in France during the latter days of the war.

Our last stop on a busy day was a visit to the Indian Cemetery on the Monastir Road out of Thessaloniki.  An interesting place where Buddhists and Sikhs are commemorated along with Muslim soldiers.  They were all part of the Indian Army of that time.  The Muslims all died at the end of the war1918-1920 of flu or dysentry and were buried here in this little cemetery.  The names of the Sikh and Buddhist dead are commemorated on monuments.  These men died and according to the Indian lady from the British Museum were accorded full religious rites on the battlefield where their dead were burnt on funeral pyres in the field, each Battalion being given a ton of wood and 30 gallon of parrafin for each corpse to ensure full incineration.

Apostolos continued to plague me with his high volume non-perfect English and he was threatening to take us to his son’s restaurant that evening.  I vowed to act alone so I sloped off early before the crowd had gathered and ate alone and with regret as it happened.  My choice of restaurant was not good and I was charged €35  whereas the son’s restaurant was excellent and was in with the cost of the trip but at least I was remote from the dreaded Greek.

After two days in Thessaloniki my first impressions of the town and country are strangely positive.  A great cafe/entertainment area down by the sea front, fine restaurants, great bars, crowds of people, although the end of September is a little out of season.  Lots of expensive shops on the main thoroughfares although few customers.  However as you tramp uphill from the waterside area, poverty overwhelms, closed down businesses, poor roafds, discarded rubbish all over the place.  The new Greece is obvious, a city of one million people soon becomes a city of 950,000 living on the breadline.  New cars are few and far between, old bangers in abundance.  On top of all of that is a city that is still trying to find its identity.  It has been Greek, Macedonian, Roman, Turkish and has reverted to Greece but with remnants of its mongrel past all around.  Although there is no racial violence, there is no trust between factions.  In the country poverty is all to evident, lots of nothing more than shacks in agricultural areas, very, very few fancy houses.  Compared to Ireland, which is also on the lower end of the European economic slopes, Greece is many years down the hill.

Agriculture although abundant and necessary looks as though it does not pay.  However the food on display looks a lot healthier, mounds and mounds of fresh vegetables and fruit available everywhere and unbelievably cheap.  Supermarkets are few and far between with the French chain Carrefour and the Gertman Lidl to the fore.  Booze the same price as Ireland, food 75% less, Diesel is €1.17 per litre, petrol €1.47 but wages at best are 50% below Ireland’s.  I doubt for the normal 5/8th that Greece is the place to be at the moment.  Empty half built structures litter the countryside and not half built last week but ten or twelve years in the past.  The economic downturn happened a long time ago.

Day 3 starts with a visit to Mikra Cemetery where two Connaught Rangers lie.  John Holland Fairchild 20367 who was really a Devon Yeomanry man but was attached to the Connaught Rangers and was left behind by them when they exited for Palestine in late 1917.  He died of dysentry on 1st March 1918.  Also there was the grave of Michael Short 10603,  Michael was from Enniskerry in Co Wicklow, a pre-war soldier who had obviously served through the Gallipoli Campaign.  After Kosturino the 5th Battalion were sent to a quiet place, Rendina on the other side of the peninsula.  Whilst unloading stores at the shoreline Michael shot himself, he died three days later in hospital on 30th December 1915, obviously the trauma of battle must have not only affected his mind but also his aim.  After the war his grave at Rendina was exhumed and Michael was re-interred at Mikra Cemetery in Thessaloniki.

Grecian Gropes and Macedonian Meanders- Part 1

It was the 25th September 2015 and I was on another trip following in the footsteps again of the 5th Battalion Connaught Rangers.  Fresh from their annihilation in Gallipoli in August 1915, they were sent to Lemnos, a Greek island in the Aegean, built up to full strength with willing enlistees and sent into another campaign in October 1915.  This was to Salonika where the British Army half-heartedly committed 228,000 soldiers in a quintuple alliance with France, Serbia, Greece and Russia who all contributed to a greater or lesser extent in keeping the Bulgarians from overrunning Serbia.

Bulgaria decided to throw their lot in with the Central Powers of Germany and Austro/Hungary on 14th October 1915 and the British Army prematurely placed XII Corps of the 10th Irish Division, 22nd Division and 26th Division and XIV Corps of the 27th, 28th and 60th Division at the disposal of the alliance.  The 10th Irish were there first arriving after some delay on 10th October 2015 and disembarked from the aptly named SS Aeneas in the port of Thessalonika in Northern Greece.  It was a war far removed from the idea that the Irish soldier had for enlisting in September and October of 1914.  Home Rule and poor little Catholic Belgium were a million miles from the mountains of Northern Greece and Southern Serbia, but here they were and determined to help their good old friend Serbia in their hour of need.

I set out from Boyle in the late morning bound for Dublin and having one stop to make en route to pick up my travelling companion Mr OF in a remote part of South Leitrim.  We had been invited by the Salonika Association to accompany them on this arduous pilgrimage in the southern Balkans.  Our first stop was Dublin Airport for a late flight to Gatwick Airport entailing an overnight stop in a very functional hotel, The Bloc.  The Bloc was situated in the South Terminal metres away from security and passport control.  Our rooms were tiny but with an excellent wet-room and a comfortable bed.

Up early, through security and on the plane for the 5.55am flight to Thessaloniki, to give it its native spelling.  Gatwick was heaving with people at that early hour and we were glad of the ease with which we were processed and deposited just prior to noon local time in Greece’s second city, the home of a million people consisting of Greeks, Turks, Macedonians and a mish-mash of Serbs, Bulgars and Romanians.

Flying into Thessaloniki from the north west over fields set out in geometrical patterns as though designed by a teacher of mathematics than a farmer; we approached over water until the water stopped and the tarmac began.  We arrived in blazing sunshine of about 30C after seeing nothing but cloud on our flight across Europe.  As we settled into our hotel we were bombarded by rain, the streets of Thessaloniki were running with water.  The rain was incessant and stopped our exploration of this city, although we did try and got soaked for our troubles whilst looking for a friendly bar.

We eventually washed up in the Dubliner, surprise, surprise, owned by a Mayo man from Ballinrobe.  The rain continued, Manchester United beat Sunderland 3-0 on the television and went top of the Premier League.  South Africa overcame Samoa and we were almost overcome with local ale as we waited for our local guide, as it turned out, a garrulous Greek by the name of Apostolos, who was to take us to his cousin’s restaurant.  He arrived and after a walk of about two miles we arrived at this second rate cafe specialising in basic, cheap Indonesian cuisine.  The food was eatable but Apostolos’s presence unbearable and by luck he sat next to me.  Words poured out of his mouth in no particular order.  I ate my main course and made a bolt for the door, two others followed.  It wasn’t just the car crash of words it was the volume I hated .  He was talking at least 100 decibels louder than our combined tones.

We three jumped in a taxi and decamped to the hotel bar, where the drinking of a couple of glasses of wine caused the hotel to run out of stock.  We retired to our various rooms and to sleep.  Day 1 was a long but not a good day.

Day 2 started with a telephone call to wife of many years who has not been in the best of health but had agreed to look after herself although hardly able whilst I skimmed off on this trip.  It was reminiscent of Davy Bowie at the Alamo in the film Davy Crockett, wounded, he told everybody to vamoose whilst he held the marauding Mexicans at bay with his trusty knife.  As I have found out since their were more Irish in the marauders than Mexicans and I knew she could withstand them easily.  However it was heartening to hear that Daughter No 3 fresh from second child and trip to Marakech was flying over from Manchester to administer to her in my absence.

Our party of 12 0r 13 were a decent bunch of good natured English people with myself, OF and a father and two sons from Wicklow Town.  There was an entertaining and incisive lady from Morpeth, born a Scot but with travels in Sheffield, who called a spade a shovel and had a few few exciting adjectives to go with her choice of nouns.  There was a quiet 60 odd year old widower from Lichfield but who had come from Cambridge originally, a very friendly couple of bell ringers from Warwickshire, the wife especially the most positive person I have ever met.  A man, his wife and son from Strensham in Worcester who I gelled with because of our common interest in cricket and a man from Manchester Airport who I never spoke to and who left us after a couple of days.  The staff of the expedition  were our tour manager AC of Barnet association, an Indian girl from the British Museum, a girl from Bucharest who seemed only remotely interested in proceedings, our Greek, Apostolos and his Macedonian counterpart, Romeo and our driver Dragee, another Macedonian completed the party.

The night between Day 1 and Day 2 had been arduous, the AC device in the room did not work properly, the mosquitoes were in abundance and I was bitten in several places, even though anti-insect juice had been applied liberally.  The breakfast was about as bad as it could be and I was glad to get into our air-conditioned Macedonian Mercedes coach for the trip up to Polycastro for a very important ceremony at the five nations monument representing the five nations that formed the alliance in this campaign against the encroaching Bulgarians.

There was lots of speeches, lots of wreaths and lots of people.  An almost no-show by the Russian youth who led his delegation of two and did not speak, enlightened the proceedings a little.  The whole show went on at the top of a hill in driving winds and pouring rain.  Two Greek soldiers had been detailed to stand either side of the monument dressed in traditional military dress of black pumps, white tights, white tutu, a fancy waistcoat and shirt and a beret with a long black tassel that came down to the waist.  These two soldiers had to remain still throughout the proceedings whilst the wind blew their black tassels around their heads and up their noses and a young lieutenant in modern uniform had to keep climbing the steps to rearrange the tassels in correct order every few minutes.  Our leader AC gave a speech in English depicting the work of the British Army, the other three nations did the same and laid wreaths galore.  The Russian youth laid a wreath.  It was about the same involvement as the Russian Army had in this campaign 100 years ago.

St Bede’s College In Manchester And All That.

I have just returned from Macedonia and I am in the process of producing a blog or two about my trip but in the meantime just one or two thoughts on my old Alma Mater and the diocese that runs the establishment.

In my inbox as I returned was an e-mail from a trusted reporter of fact which I just thought I would pass on to you.  In doing so I am reminded of the fact that I said that I would not draw the new head of St Bede’s College in Manchester through the mud until he had chance to prove himself.  After all Brendan Rogers was given over three years at Liverpool before it was decided by the powers that he no longer was doing the job that they were expecting of him.

The new head at Bede’s only started in January 2015 after a cocked up process, I suppose caused by old Opus Dei Kearney throwing his dummy out of the pram in early 2014.  So I suppose he cannot have 100% of the blame thrown on to his muscular shoulders for the abysmal performance at A Level of the 2nd year sixth at this year’s external examinations.

Last year 2014 had the stamp of Kearney all over it, when according to the Daily Telegraph,  St Bede’s College in Manchester came 185 out of 320 private schools in England.  This year unfortunately they came 285 out of 320, only Bury Grammar School, that well known academy for turning silk purses into sow’s ears, did worse in the north west.

Now to drop 100 places in just over three hundred in one year, smacks of more than Kearney’s influence and perhaps Mr New Head should put his hand up and take some of the blame.  After all I think Mr Daniel Kearney has been treated abysmally by his friends and supporters and I would not like to see him suffer any more in his dotage.

We will not say anything more about these terrible results but I hope Mr New Head realises we are watching his every move.  Let us face it, it is not that difficult to improve from 285 out of 320.

Another thing that came to my attention and has more to do with the Salford Diocese than St Bede’s College in Manchester although the passing on of bodily fluids did actually take place within the portals of this hallowed institute.  Sometime in 2013 three boys from the 1957 intake having obviously read of our campaign against child sexual abuse at St Bede’s decided to fight their own corner and instead of coming to us, they went to that well known purveyor of slack justice in the North of England, Panone’s in Deansgate which had recently morphed into Slater Walker, the international firm of lawyers more intent at sliding victims through a process than fighting their client’s corner.  Slater Walker’s man on the pitch is no other than Richard Scorer, the expert in sexual abuse or so his book goes.  Scorer loves fast tracking victims he is not there at all for the long road, he has too many idiot clients. He went forward with two out of the three and within months it was all over.  In and out and collect me money is Richard’s philosophy.

Now I have witness statements from these two lads given to me by my friends at Slater Walker albeit some time after the event and let me tell you they suffered some awful abuse from the groinal digit of Monsignor Thomas Duggan’s holy frame, over a lengthy period of time.  To actually write out these statements must have put them through a trauma they would have liked not to have suffered.  Two intelligent lads destined to go down hill from the age of 14.  They have suffered terrible lives and they are now 72 years old and in need of financial and psychiatric help.

Witness statements taken in late December 2013, the court date fixed for the Manchester Court in early April in 2014, I had booked my flight and intended to be there for the whole hearing. Then Bingo!, the case was off, the two lads had agreed to settle out of court, my journey wasted.  It seems the Holy and Venerable Catholic Diocese of Salford had offered the two, £5,000 apiece for Duggan’s phallic insertions.  Scorer or a minion presented this magnanimous offer to the lads telling them that was the best they would get under the circumstances and that they should accept the offer immediately.  The two men under tremendous pressure accepted, the Diocese paid the £10,ooo into court and some weeks later the kindly Slater Walker after taking their cut presented the two men with £300 pounds apiece.

Not a word in the newspapers, these private settlements are never reported, the Salford Diocese came away with not a smear, not a seminal smear on their good name.  They ought to be ashamed of themselves.  If that is love and goodness in a holy church give me hell any day.

Meanwhile on the first floor of I think they call the Gonne building, at St Bede’s College in Manchester on Alexandra Road, at the third door on the left as you walk from the staircase, the servants of the diocese are still trying to chip away the calcified drips of Duggan’s excitement from the cracks in the floorboards of his old study and pretending to the world that nothing happened here.

Critical Claptrap

I am all for criticism, keeps one on one’s toes you know but some stuff that gets sent to me is pure balderdash but looks good because the writer seems educated and erudite.  Here for your very eyes are four pages of neatly typed A4 but lacking a signature, which upsets me somewhat as you like to know who you are up against.  It was posted in England and that is all I know of its provenance, perhaps a reader might recognise a certain style that could put me in touch with an obvious fan.

I have numbered each paragraph so that I can comment or not as I see fit at the end.

1. I recently came across your blog and having read several items felt compelled to make this response, in defence of Mike Sheehan whom I believe you have cynically misrepresented to validate your self-appointed representation of some abuse victims.

2. I know of you throughout your time at St Bede’s, which like all institutions had its own systemic and deeply entrenched forms of abuse, though it’s the specific sexual abuse of Monsignor Duggan which you appear to be obsessed by.  I can recall multiple incidents of the much more common emotional, physical, psychological and contemptuous abuse, as well as the endemic bullying which seemed so prevalent in the early years.  The classic and multiple forms of institutional abuse were all there, yet strangely in this comprehensively abusive environment, you focus exclusively on Duggan and one single symptom of abuse.

3. For whatever reason, you left the school in 1963, and as far as I am aware your formal academic education appears to have ended at that time, a fact which you apparently later resented.  Perhaps related to your lack of experience of other educational establishments and comparative teaching methods, you appear to have a distorted assessment of the quality of teaching which St Bede’s provided at the time.  There were some good and a few outstanding teachers like Spike Martin and Bert Whalley but the majority were unexceptional and several were distinctly poor.  Had the school been subject to current Ofstead inspections, then given its culture, systemic management failings, drop-out rate and overall achievements it would almost certainly have been classed as failing and its management removed.

4. Sixty years later, unlike any of your contemporaries the school still retains some unfathomable and obvious attraction for you.  After leaving in 1963, you were amongst a very small number of the 57 intake who chose to maintain close contact with the school via your cricket interests and the Old Bedians Club.  Much later, you sent your own children to the same school which you had seemingly so admired yet would subsequently seek to villify for events which pre-dated their birth.

5. Attracted by the established culture and lifestyle as well as the wage or lump of the demolition and construction industry you appear to have enjoyed the post-academic life of a labourer, navvy or civil engineer.  Hard -working and hard-drinking groups of men, many of whom were single and of Irish descent formed close bonds in work, and especially outside, where alcohol became the mortar for establishing and maintaining those relationships.  Your own association with addiction to alcohol appears to have become established during this period, as does your apparent preference at the time, for socialising with almost exclusively and often older male company, in the pubs, clubs and sporting establishments you frequented.

6. I find your references to MS or Mike Sheehan, especially his “allegations” to be at best unfounded or more likely, a wilful misrepresentation and fabricated explanation of his sad circumstances.  As in so much of your writings, you show no evidence of causal link between your allegedly confidential information and the sad outcome for Mike.  Your connection, devoid of any supporting evidence or balanced argument is enough for you and much of your subsequent campaign of self-promotion and moralist indignation is predicated on this single allegation, which given the circumstances can be neither fully discounted nor confirmed, a convenient impasse for you.  I knew Mike many years after he had left school, he was an honest individual who like so many others in his situation believed or wanted to believe that he had the personal strength and wherewithal to control his addiction.  In my experience he never adopted the victim role, blaming others for his misfortune and took personal responsibility for the circumstances he found himself in, showing commendable resourcefulness and initiative to survive as long as he did.  You have written nothing about his life after school, his friends or family, did you really know him that well?  If you did, you might have written much more positively about a man who showed admirable self-awareness, accepted responsibility for the life he had once chosen, and was completely aware of his unavoidable prognosis.  Mike’s sad  but entirely predictable death was inevitable, only the precise timing and location were unknown.  In my opinion, you have abused the memory of Mike as a cover to somehow validate your campaign, but from my knowledge of the man, had he lived, I am certain that he would never have allowed you to use his name in the way you have done.

7. When I began reading your blog, I believed that you had some genuine interest, understanding and concern on the subject of abuse.  The more I have read your writings, the more convinced I have become that my initial assessment was wholly erroneous.  For a man who apparently spends so much time researching and writing about his topics you show a lamentable lack of awareness or understanding of the multiple different forms of abuse, or crucially any knowledge of the common denominators which exist in and influence all aspects of abuse.  The significance of the power relationship, dependency, transparent accountability and the distorted personal perception of the relative importance and value of the powerful against the powerless, would be cornerstones of understanding for most genuine students and observers of the subject, but apparently not for you.  There is no exploration or attempt from you to understand the complex history of abusive relationships in every culture and society across the globe which hopefully in the future, may guide our assessment and response to this universal and negative aspect of human nature.  Instead, your reader is presented with your own myopic view of abuse, namely sexual abuse in institutional settings, which interestingly is predominately male on male abuse.  I tried to find reference in your blog to abuse within families, which is generally acknowledged as being perhaps the most widespread and unreported source of abuse, and again could find no mention of the endemic psychological, physical, emotional, or coercive abuses in this area.  Strangely, unlike your frequent references to institutions, there was also no mention of sexual abuse within families.

8. In the absence of any evidentially based alternatives, I am satisfied that you have no genuine interest in understanding the history, complexity, causes or potential resolutions of abuse.  Instead, you have a specific and enduring interest in one form of abuse, namely sexual abuse, the likeliest reason being your own sexual gratification.  There are many charlatans seemingly seeking to understand human nature whilst covertly searching to satisfy the darker and overpowering aspects of their character.

9. You appear to have no awareness or concern about your own abusive personality and the extent to which you mirror and often exceed the abuses of others.  I am not sure if you recognise the importance of the balance of power in all relationships, though I am certain that like all bullies you have a sophisticated and finely tuned system of identifying those you can abuse with impunity and those you should avoid, as witnessed by the physical distance and administrative obfuscation you have used to shield you from legitimate challenges.  The dead, the vulnerable, those who for whatever reason cannot defend themselves, and those who might rightly question the advisability of reasoning with a madman, are the easy targets carefully selected for your gratuitous abuse.  Like so many other abusers you have a distorted or delusional view of your own importance or cleverness and sense of power, crucially linked to your contemptuous rejection and dismissal of those who you deem to be irrelevant, worthless and less important than yourself.  you have the classic prerequisites of the abusive personality; all you needed was real or assumed power in which to exercise your abusive nature.  I have no doubt that in any relationships within family, groups, or organisations in which you have power, your abusive personality will emerge and it would be for others to speculate on the forms of abuse you are engaged in within those relationships.

10. I believe Duggan was abusive in his relationships with staff, parents, and pupils at the school, and for some pupils, the psychological, emotional, physical and contemptuous abuse was at times apparently accompanied by sexual abuse.  However, it is essential to recognise that Duggan was abusive in all relationships in which he held power, control or fear over others, in short, he was an abusive personality in a very powerful position which gave him the scope to exercise the dark and negative aspects of his own personality.  The similarities between yourself and Duggan are quite striking, you are both abusive personalities, apparently oblivious to, or unconcerned about the damage you do to others, cocooned in your delusional belief in your own importance, status and position.  Like Duggan you take vicarious pleasure from the anxiety and fear you create in others, any vestige of shared humanity, concern and respect for the feelings of others are alien concepts on which important men like you and the Monsignor would not waste your precious time or talents.

11. You are a staunch critic of governments, politicians, religious orders and other organisations promoting your ethical values and from the moral high ground you freely dispense your generally critical invective against those who have failed to live up to your implied rather than real standards.  Looking closely at your own and your family’s business dealings prior to leaving Manchester, highlights the serious contradictions in the ethical stance you appear to adopt when judging others.  With your record in business, you should be wary of continuing to throw stones at others.  Maybe you could enlighten your readers with a blog, perhaps entitled “Integrity in business-a personal account”.  After explaining your role in the rise and fall of Kavanagh and Mannion, no doubt your readers, HM Revenue and at least 707 other creditors would learn much from your insight and detailed explanation of the ownership, history and dealings of Topskips, PAL and Toptriangle.  Adding Companies House records of the business successes, dissolutions and administrations of the Attwood/Goodman branch of the family might give the reader a broader understanding of the ethics you espouse.

12. I have failed to understand what motivates you to spend so much of your time and energy in producing the abusive elements of your blog.  Like Roy Keane, you are a driven man but where that wasted drive comes from and what it is intended to achieve is a mystery.  I suspect that its intention seeking and certainly it’s about your self-promotion, no-one would accuse you of being a team p[layer, but it’s also about power.  Like the aloof and unaccountable despot Duggan in his robes, you share the same sense of importance, authority and contempt for lesser mortals in your writings having like all bullies, first carefully assessed the threat to your own safety.  You appear to be a very angry and resentful man and throughout your writings I had the impression of an author who was much more focused on trying to show how clever he believed he was rather than presenting a balanced view of the issues he was discussing.

13. You have consistently failed to gain any significant support for your campaigns from any of the former pupils of the school, because  they quickly identify your abusive and manipulative personality but also the self-evident conclusion from reading your blog, that you are demonstrably, neither a credible witness nor author.  Any barrister representing a plaintiff bringing a case against Duggan’s abuses would quickly identify you and your writings as a liability to be excluded from forming any part of their litigation.  Though you could never accept the fact, you are a severe hindrance rather than a help to anybody considering taking proceedings against Duggan’s abuses.

14. Having carefully reviewed my contact with Mike Sheehan, I am not persuaded that he made any allegations to you, but on balance I am convinced that the man I knew would have rejected your self -appointed advocacy, allegedly made on his, rather than your own behalf.  In my opinion you have cynically used the death of a former classmate, for your own abusive ends.  I have dismissed your implied interest and concern in the subject of abuse, such claims are fraudulent, you have an obsessive interest in only one form of abuse, namely sexual abuse, predominantly male on male from which I believe you gain some form of gratification.  Undoubtedly Duggan was an abusive personality just as you are, but like him, in his shared deluded sense of your own self-importance you fail to see or ignore the impact of that abusiveness on others.

15. I suspect that you have already had significant involvement with the psychiatric services in Roscommon and possibly in Stockport previously.  Whilst these services cannot alter your underlying sociopathic/psychopathic personality, they may have the capacity at times to ameliorate the worst excesses of your behaviour.  You will not change as your condition precludes you from having that opportunity but stop misrepresenting a decent man, Mike Sheehan, to excuse or validate your own warped self-interest and abusive personality.

On behalf of my memory of Mike Sheehan

Well that is it 2287 words of pure poorly written half researched nonsense.  Full of long sentences and even longer words, wanting to impress rather than make his point.  His character assassination of me was like water off a duck’s back  It is like writing a dissertation at the end of a degree course and not putting your name to it.  He considers I was right with Duggan’s abuses but he considers I am not fair to Mike Sheehan and it is for that I deserve such a blunt attack on my persona.  I have trawled through the 429 postings I have made on this blog and have come across four where I have mentioned the poor man, viz:-

1. Decline and Fall published 31.1.10.

2. Geoffrey Burke, Auxillary Bishop of Salford and Titular Bishop of Vagrouta published 1.3.10

3. Teenage Years published 2.3.10

4. Monsignor Thomas Duggan published 3.3.10

Google them, read them, and think about it, none of these seems to cast Sheehan in a bad light and except for the exuberance of youth with which I share my responsibility, the text is mainly in praise of the man.  I did not know him too well in his mature years because by then work and family life had made us drift apart but I was certainly a key figure in his life up to the age of 25 0r 26.  Certainly at school we were inseperable and I was at his wedding and sadly his funeral mass  where Dave McGarry officiated as he did at the funerals of most fractured Old Bedians.

Sheehan was never at the fulcrum of my campaign against Duggan and others but he was certainly a catalyst, because after I had written the first of those postings mentioned above, I was bombarded with e-mails from all over the world from former pupils explaining how they also were victims of Duggan’s sexual abuse.  Other forms of abuse fall into insignificance when compared to this.

At this time over five years ago I was totally naive as to this problem, I mentioned it in passing in the last line of that first posting thinking Sheehan was the only one ever abused.  Little was I to know what can of worms I had opened.

Para 13 suggests I have failed to gain any significant support and that lawyers would run a mile if they saw me coming but the truth is that we have probably 50 witnesses who will swear under oath of their abuses under Duggan, all telling roughly the same story as Sheehan, some I’m afraid are a lot, lot worse.  The case against the Diocese of Salford is scheduled for the High Court in London in May 2016.

So Mr “On behalf of my memory of Mike Sheehan” Dickhead expose yourself there is plenty I would be willing to discuss with you man to man because as you say that is how I like it.

Two last words before I post.  When I started this posting I numbered the paragraphs intending to disseminate each one but having finished my task I had to ask myself is it worth it, but if any reader wants to ask a question or make a point let them do so but I am really against cowards who cannot put their names to their writing.  The last and final word is from my ever youthful wife of 42 years.  She said ” I have a list of complaints about you but what this person has done is missed you by a mile.  He keeps adding up 2 + 2 and getting five”

Good day eejit.

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