Strangers on a slow train from Sligo [A chilling tale]

The Sunday Telegraph (UK) ^ | June 26, 2005 | By Mary Wakefield

[aculeus]

Last Sunday I caught the 2pm from Sligo, in the west of Ireland, cross country to Dublin. As the train began to jolt and groan its way east, I wandered off in search of a seat, but in each group of four there was one person, sitting tight, defending the space: women with prim, permed hair; old men; Germans in shorts.

At last I found an empty four and settled. Collooney came and went, as did Ballymote and Boyle. At Carrick on Shannon, a man and woman slid into the seats opposite me. Drat. The woman put a plastic bag on the table and carried on talking.

"I'll kill him for what he's done to her," she said. From the bag, she pulled two cans of Harp lager that she poured into plastic cups. "He hits her, puts her in hospital, then she calls me. What can I do? She's my sister, but I can't go to London every week." Dromod station, Longford, more lager, more tales of drunkenness and cruelty. Then the man chipped in: "Is it really that bad?" he said. "Yes," said the woman tearfully. "Well then," said the man. "You're an old friend, let me see what I can do to help."

"What do you mean?" He leaned towards her: "I wasn't in the army for nothing, you know," he said. "I'm trained." The woman looked confused but curious; I looked at my book. He said: "Your brother-in-law, he'll not be walking around punching women if I pay him a visit. Do you know what I'm saying? If you cut a man's hamstrings, he doesn't get up again."

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this here," said the woman. I closed my eyes and pretended sleep. The man said: "If you knee-cap someone, it's through the back of the leg you know. People think it's done from the front, but it's not." He sniggered. There was the sound of a can opening then silence for a few minutes. "So what do you think? Yes or no? I'll need to call a friend in London.

"Well," said the woman. Then, "Yes". The man went into the corridor. Through my eyelashes, I could see him talking into his mobile.

Five minutes later he came back: "I'll need a photograph, and the name of the pub he goes to. Can you do that?" She nodded. "Well, consider it sorted then," said the man, half smiling. "I'll book a flight from Knock next week. It's no problem. You've been a good friend to me."

In Connolly station I sat on a step and wrote down what I could remember. Was the man serious? Would he go all the way to London to hamstring a stranger for a friend? It was almost touching. And how many more frustrated IRA men are there in Ireland, just looking for excuses to do a good turn for an old pal?

(unrelated stuff snipped)

[Tax-chick]

Wow!

[aculeus]

Ping for an IRA-related story.

[nmh]

So, did he DO it or haven it done?

[RedBeaconNY]

If you cut a man's hamstrings, he doesn't get up again."

WHO THINKS LIKE THAT?!?! To know that there are minds like that who would maim somebody of whom they have no experience with is abhorrent. Sends a chill down my spine.

[martin_fierro]

Booze and fighting?

In Ireland?

Man, that place has changed.

< /tongueincheek >

[dead]

They were probably just rehearsing a play they are in.

(I saw that exact scenario on a "Three's Company" episode. And a "Happy Days" episode. And a "Bosom Buddies" episode. And an "I Love Lucy" episode. And a "What's Happening" episode. And a "Love Boat" episode.)

[RegulatorCountry]

"WHO THINKS LIKE THAT?!?!"

Spooks. Mercenaries. All countries have them, some more restrained than others.

[aculeus]

WHO THINKS LIKE THAT?!?!

The same wonderful people who invented the "IRA Six Pack". One bullet in each knee, elbow and shoulder.

[eddie willers]

"WHO THINKS LIKE THAT?!?!"

Alfred Hitchcock.

[aculeus]

They were probably just rehearsing a play they are in.

Or it could be a hoax. I hope so but it strikes me as authentic.

[RedBeaconNY]

I mean, sure, I'm studying anatomy and physiology; I know all about muscles and what controls what. That, and I've seen and had my fair share of sports injuries. But actually cutting somebody's hamstring for your sadistic pleasure, that's wrong. Maybe I'm just behind the times... sick.

[dead]

It seems a really stupid thing to discuss sitting next to a stranger on a train, unless you were discussing it for their benefit.

I new a couple girls in college who used to tell fantastic stories in front of strangers just to watch their stunned reactions.

Could be real. Could be a goof.

[Oberon]

WHO THINKS LIKE THAT?!?!

People who can't get justice from the authorities.

[Jazzman1]

Are he and his friends available for hire at GITMO or IRAQ?

[BraveMan]

[Oberon]

Scene One - The elevator at the Elliot Bay Towers.
Daphne and Martin are in the back of the elevator. The doors open and a woman gets on, standing in front of Daphne and Martin. Daphne says hello and they lapse into silence for a moment. She and Martin then begin to speak to each other in a conspiratorial tone.

Daphne: Someone followed me again last night.
Martin: Ah, you're just being paranoid.
Daphne: I'm telling you, they're onto me.
Martin: Come on. Nobody could recognize you after all that plastic surgery.

The woman becomes alarmed at this.

Daphne: That's what Marlena thought.
Martin: Marlena got sloppy. She never should have gone back to Zurich.
Daphne: I just don't want any more bloodshed.
Martin: Relax. You're home free.
Daphne: You don't know the Woodchuck and his ways.

The doors open and the woman rushes out in fear. Martin and Daphne break down laughing.

Daphne: Oh, we're terrible!
Martin: We are? You are! "The Woodchuck and his ways"?
Daphne: You know, we really should stop doing this. It's not nice.
Martin: Ah, you're right. We won't do it anymore.

The doors open and a man enters.

Daphne: [as soon as the doors close, to Martin] How'd you get the stuff through Customs?
Martin: They never check the wooden leg.

[VegasJim]

When you've lived through that type of abuse, It's not to hard to image what they were talking about.

When I was old enough to go after the guy that abused my mom and I, he was already in the LA county jail.

I was ready willing and able to do what the other prisoners eventually did for me, kill him.

He died awaiting trial for attempted murder.

The world can be a nasty place.

[elc]

If you knee-cap someone, it's through the back of the leg you know

They've gotten really good at rebuilding knees now. I remember once watching a news story when I lived there about famous American athletes who travel to Royal Victoria Hospital in Belfast to have their knees rebuilt after injuries.

It's all about the elbows. And the Padre Pios.

Sounds like a piss take to me.