On January 30, 1972, the streets of Londonderry were thick with tension and hope as a civil rights demonstration wound through the city’s Bogside area. But what began as a march for justice turned into one of Northern Ireland’s darkest days—Bloody Sunday. Thirteen civilians lost their lives when the British Army’s Parachute Regiment opened fire, and the reverberations of that day still echo in courtrooms and hearts more than five decades later.
This week, at Belfast Crown Court, the trial of a former British Army soldier known only as Soldier F resumed, drawing a fresh wave of public attention and emotion. Soldier F faces charges for the murders of James Wray, 22, and William McKinney, 26, as well as five counts of attempted murder, including that of Joe Mahon, Joseph Friel, Michael Quinn, Patrick O’Donnell, and an unidentified person. The defendant, whose identity remains protected by an interim court order, sits behind a curtain as witnesses recount the chaos and horror of that fateful day. Soldier F denies all charges.
Joe Mahon, who was just 16 at the time, took the stand on October 1, 2025, offering a harrowing account of survival and trauma. According to BBC, Mahon described how he and about forty others sought refuge in Glenfada Park North as violence erupted nearby. "We classed it as being a safe area. The Army never came in to Glenfada Park," he recalled. But safety proved fleeting. Mahon testified that a small group of soldiers entered the courtyard, with the first soldier—rifle under his arm—opening fire in a sweeping, fan-like motion. "He was firing from the hip, moving from side to side," Mahon said, painting a picture of indiscriminate, rapid gunfire.
As the shots rang out, panic took hold. People scrambled for cover, trying locked gates in vain. Mahon found himself on the ground, initially thinking he’d been struck by a rubber bullet. "I know it might sound stupid or funny because when you see someone shot on TV they are rolling about in pain but I wasn't that way," he told the court. Next to him was William McKinney, who gasped, "I am hit son, I am hit." Mahon would later learn the full extent of his own wounds—a bullet had entered his right pelvis, sending him to the hospital for several weeks.
But Mahon’s ordeal was far from over. He described seeing a soldier walk past both him and McKinney, then fire two shots into James Wray, who lay on the ground nearby. "He walked past us... as he approached Mr. Wray, he fired two shots into him," Mahon said. As the soldier returned, Mahon recalled hearing him say, "I've got another one." In a moment of chilling suspense, the soldier knelt in the middle of the square and aimed his rifle at Mahon. "After what happened to Jim Wray, I expected the same. I turned my head waiting to be shot and I heard a voice shouting: 'First aid, don't shoot'," Mahon recounted. Members of the public then rushed to carry him from the square, likely saving his life.
Throughout his testimony, Mahon was visibly emotional, at one point wiping his eyes with a handkerchief as he looked at old photographs. The gravity of his experience—and the weight of memory—was palpable in the courtroom. According to PA Media, Mahon also recalled a woman’s voice urging, "Lie still, pretend you are dead," advice that may have helped him survive as soldiers moved through the area.
He was not alone in his suffering. Joseph Friel, who was 20 at the time, also testified about the mayhem in Glenfada Park North. Friel described a lull in the shooting, during which he tried to escape. "He was the only one firing," Friel said, referring to a soldier shooting from the hip. "I was not looking at the soldier's face, I was looking at the rifle." Friel felt a thud in his chest and began coughing up blood. After collapsing, he was taken into a nearby house where his wounds were tended before he was transported to the hospital. "When you see someone trying to murder you, you do not forget," Friel told the court, echoing the long-lasting trauma shared by many survivors.
The legal odyssey surrounding Soldier F has been as complex as it has been controversial. The decision to charge him was taken by the Public Prosecution Service (PPS) in 2019, following a lengthy police investigation that itself was sparked by the public inquiry into Bloody Sunday, led by Lord Saville. Eighteen former soldiers were reported to the PPS, but Soldier F was the only one ultimately charged. The case was dropped in 2021 after the collapse of a related trial, only to be revived in 2022 after a successful legal challenge. The trial, now ongoing, continues to attract attention from across the political spectrum and throughout the United Kingdom.
For many in Northern Ireland and beyond, the trial is more than a legal proceeding—it’s a reckoning with the past. Bloody Sunday remains a defining moment in the history of the Troubles, a period marked by deep division, violence, and loss. The events of that day have been the subject of multiple investigations, public inquiries, and artistic representations, each attempting to grapple with the pain and complexity of what occurred.
The testimony of survivors like Mahon and Friel serves as a stark reminder of the human cost of conflict. Their words, delivered more than fifty years after the gunfire ceased, underscore the enduring scars left by Bloody Sunday. In court, their memories are not just evidence; they are a call for accountability and understanding in a society still healing from its wounds.
As the trial continues, more witnesses are expected to take the stand, each adding another layer to the narrative of that tragic day. The outcome remains uncertain, but the voices of those who survived—and those who lost loved ones—ensure that the events of Bloody Sunday will not be forgotten. The search for justice, however delayed, presses on, reminding all who listen of the importance of truth, memory, and the long journey toward reconciliation.
