Below the Radar - Cyprus Summer of '74

Chapter 7: The By-pass Incident (Street Fighting Man)

The evening shift bus for Akrotiri was due in about 10 minutes so as Johnny Nash sang about how clearly he could now see, they finished their drinks. Ned lagged behind, mopping up and making sure all the glasses were totally drained as they left the bar for the short walk to the bus stop.

It was only about 50 yards on the opposite side of the road, in the middle of one of the many empty strips of dusty bondoo, wasteland that punctuated the full length of the by-pass. The bus stop stood between scattered houses and apartment blocks; a multitude of small shops, garages and workshops, plus a variety of bars and restaurants stretching in both directions.

They reached the bus stop, identified only by a single rusted metal pole leaning at an awkward angle, a large chunk of partly exposed concrete holding it up and a battered and faded red sign on the top.

Nige stopped, realised he'd left his plastic bag and more importantly whatever was left from the six pack of beer back at the Andy Capp. He tore off back across the road shouting he'd only be two minutes.

True to his word, they watched as he exited the bar a minute later and walked quickly down the far side of the by-pass. His plastic bag was swinging casually to and fro. The by-pass was quiet and Nige took his time as he sauntered across the road on a diagonal course. As he did a couple of local Cypriot lads passed by on their bikes. Without warning Nige swung his plastic bag violently round and slammed it into the head of the second unsuspecting cyclist. The boy went down hard under his bike, his head cracked sickeningly against the road and bounced back slightly. He lay motionless.

It took a couple of seconds for his mate to realise anything untoward had occurred, before he turned back, executing a sharp U-turn.

Across the road the seven waiting British lads, who only 30 seconds earlier had been fooling around as they looked forward to a chilled night at the Akrotiri disco, stood dumbfounded as Nige continued his stroll across the by-pass to join them.

Simon was first to react. "What the ..... shit ..... why on earth did you do that Nige? You just laid that kid out for no reason."

Nige shrugged. "It wasn't for nothing, he said something as I stepped out onto the road and anyway he's just a fuckin' Greek, no big deal."

"What.....", Simon looked stunned and unusually at a loss for words, shaking his head.

Ryan jumped in. "You utter twat Nige. He didn't do anything, look he's still down." He frowned before slowly continuing. "He could be hurt .... bad."

Nige shrugged again, but at same time glanced nervously over his shoulder. Feigning nonchalance he took one of the two remaining cans of out of his bag, cracked it open and took a long slug.

Will started to wander slowly over to see if the kid was alright. At least the lad was now moving slowly as he tried to sit up near the far pavement. Will stopped as a couple of cars slowed up, the second cyclist got back to his mate and a couple of more passers-by stopped to check what had happened.

It was now clear that the lad, more likely Greek than Turk given ninety percent of the Cypriot population was Greek, could have been no more than fifteen. He had blood running freely down his forehead and nasty grazes on his legs. As he held his head in his hands and tried to stop the blood flow he looked up and pointed directly across the road. Several people had stopped to help and others gathered round. Nearly all now turned to follow his finger, clearly directed at the small group of British lads.

Rick looked nervously around. "When's that bloody bus due? We need to get out of here."

Alex and Dan didn't know what to do so kept quiet. Being the youngest they'd follow the rest, or more accurately in Alex's case take the lead from whatever Simon said or did next.