The nephew of Bloody Sunday victim John Johnston says a dark cloud has been lifted
JIMMY DUDDY tends to the grave of his uncle on the steep Creggan hillside overlooking the curve of the Foyle.
John Johnston was the second man to be shot on Bloody Sunday and the last to die. He fought for his life for nearly five months before dying from a clot in his brain.
“Johnny was cleared by Widgery [the first and now officially discredited investigation into the killings],” says Jimmy. “He was the only person who was cleared, but there was still a slur over his name. Now to hear that they were all innocent. I think Bishop Good said, a cloud has now been lifted. It was a dark and evil cloud in the shape of the paras.”
He is happy now that the world has heard the truth. “They can now go and change all the text books. We have moved a mountain. I hope that goes out to victims all over the world. If it takes 38 years you can move a mountain.”
In common with many other relatives of those killed and injured on Bloody Sunday, Jimmy believes there is no hierarchy of victims. The grave he visits is placed just behind a long row of republican graves with their identical Celtic crosses bearing the claim “died for Ireland”.
“All victims are equal. No matter whether they are UDA men, UVF men, IRA men, policemen, Protestants, Catholics. I think they all died because of the Troubles and the state they lived in.” For him, the presence of leading Protestant churchmen in the Bogside an hour earlier was emblematic of the Protestant response to the findings of Saville and the official confirmation that John Johnston had always been an innocent victim and that he died going to help young Damien Donaghey, who was the first to be hit by a paratrooper’s bullet.
However, the remarks of some unionist representatives, notably local man Gregory Campbell, make him “sad” rather than angry. “We don’t put ourselves before any victim – we are all victims, no matter who they are.”
Jimmy’s father, John, died just six weeks ago, aged 87, having spent nearly four decades seeking the truth behind the killings. His fresh grave is situated a few metres from that of John Johnston, his brother-in-law.
Probably knowing he would miss the day when Saville cleared the names of the Bloody Sunday victims, the late John Duddy wrote down his thoughts.
“Justice has to be done. It’s no good just saying sorry. If somebody steals from you and then says sorry, they have to give you back the thing they stole,” says Jimmy, recalling the contents of the letter.
He believes there ought to be prosecutions of soldiers. “What message would it send out to the world that you can kill people. . . but you’ll never be convicted. That’s a terrible message to send out to armies all over the world.”
He believes the families will get together soon, possibly within a week or two, to discuss what they will do next. But it would be better if the state took the initiative instead. “It would be better if the British government and prosecution service took that load off us and they make the decision.”
He has no interest in compensation; the Bloody Sunday campaign was always about justice, not cash.
Referring to the often-quoted costs of the inquiry, he said: “If you had asked [the families] to take that £200 million they keep talking about but that the families still had a slur on their name, they would have told them to keep it.”