Cover art by Denys Cowan
When Oliver Queen – the bow-and-arrow wielding superhero Green Arrow – left his adopted hometown of Seattle in December 1990 on a soul-searching journey of self-discovery, he hardly expected to find himself in Canada. He likewise had no idea that from Canada he would make his way to England and prevent the assassination of Prince Charles and Princess Diana at the hands of the Irish Republican Army. Yet in issue 43 of writer Mike Grell’s Green Arrow comic book series, that is exactly where Oliver Queen finds himself.
In the real world, it wasn’t Prince Charles and Princess Diana that the Irish Republican Army targeted but Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. The IRA considered themselves fighting a war of independence – demanding that the British-controlled Northern Ireland be unified with the independent Republic of Ireland – and considered themselves prisoners-of-war when arrested as a result. When IRA prisoners were transferred to the maximum-security prison H-Blocks in 1976, however, they suddenly found themselves treated like common criminals as opposed political outlaws.
In March 1981, an H-Blocks prisoner named Bobby Sands went on a hunger strike to protest this change in status. He died from starvation in May, and by the end of October was joined by nine other prisoners. As far as the IRA was concerned, their blood was on the hands of Margaret Thatcher. Although they knew it would be difficult, a plot to assassinate the prime minister was hatched shortly afterwards.
Oliver Queen’s involvement with the Irish Republican Army began when he wandered out of the Pacific Northwest wilderness and found himself in the middle of a film shoot for the latest Jimbo movie – a spoof of the Sylvester Stallone-starring Rambo series. Seeing a woman falling down a waterfall, Queen jumps into to the rushing waters and saves her, only to discover that it was a stuntman named Terry Marsh dressed as a woman. Marsh befriends his “savior” and even gets Queen a job as a consultant on the film.
The production camp contains a stockpile of weapons that are stolen the next night. “Probably in the hands of the IRA by now – bloody provo bastards,” the Canadian detective assigned to investigate the theft remarks. When Queen asks him to elaborate, he says, “This sort of thing has happened before. The guns turned up in Belfast within a week, used to ambush a military patrol. The IRA needs four things to keep its fight alive. Supporters, of which there is no shortage as long as there are Catholics and Protestants. Money – wealthy Americans of Irish extractions take care of that quite nicely. And weapons.” As for the fourth, the answer was martyrs.
In his 2023 book There Will Be Fire: Margaret Thatcher, the IRA, and Two Minutes That Changed History, journalist Rory Carroll implicates IRA member Joe Cahill as the person in charge of acquiring both money and weapons for the Irish Republican Army. Although neither came directly from Canada, Cahill did once slip into the country when the Boston Bruins hockey team was playing the Quebec Nordiques. He then joined a busload of fans heading back to the United States, crossing the border undetected.
Cahill attended fundraisers organized by the Northern Aid Committee (NORAID) located in New York City, giving speeches and filling plastic bags with cash. He also met with the notorious Irish American mobster James “Whitey” Bulger in Boston. Bulger was a regular contributor to NORAID, but in the early 1980s, Cahill was looking for a different kind of contribution – weapons. Bulger obliged, sending a Dodge van filled with Armalite, pistols, ammunition, and blocks of C-4 explosives on a cargo vessel to France, where it then traveled by ferry to Ireland.
Oliver Queen quickly deduces that it was his newfound friend Terry Marsh who stole the weapons and that Marsh was an IRA terrorist. “Look at your own country and think what it must have been like under British rule,” Marsh says to Queen. “And think what it would be like now without the revolution, without the men to stand up and fight for what you know is right.” Queen doesn’t respond but also doesn’t prevent Terry Marsh from escaping. He has a change of heart, however, after once again meeting with the Canadian detective.
“Maybe you’d like to see what your ‘friend’ has been up to over the past two decades,” the detective begins. “June 1970: A car bomb exploded in Piccadilly Circus, killing 11 people and injuring 28. He started off with a bang. December 1972: A sniper attack on an army patrol, just in time to celebrate Christmas. Two dead, one injured. April 1975: A mail train is robbed of 1.4 million pounds. Funds for the cause. Over the course of the next twelve years, his tastes ran to car bombs, snipings and assassinations. Then in 1987 he added something new to his repertoire. He packed the frame of a bicycle with about six pounds of plastic explosive and gave it to a nine-year-old boy, and sent him through a British army checkpoint. That is the bloody legend you let go.”
In October 1981, London became a regular target of the Irish Republican Army, beginning with the bombing of an army barracks that killed two civilians. Two weeks later, a bomb disposal expert died while trying to dismantle a device at a fast-food restaurant. Then in July 1982, a twenty-five-pound bomb was remote detonated inside the trunk of a car in Hyde Park during a Horse Guards Parade, followed two hours later by another bomb explosion, this one underneath a bandstand in Regent’s Park. Eleven soldiers were killed in the twin bombings, with dozens of bystanders injuried and the death of seven horses.
Now that Terry Marsh has been exposed as an IRA terrorist, Oliver Queen realizes he will want one last “hurrah” before disappearing into the underground. Queen thus makes his way to London and tracks down his former friend. The IRA operative has rented a flat across from the train station platform that Prince Charles and Princess Diana will soon be disembarking upon. Borrowing a page from his past, Marsh has filled another bicycle frame with explosives and given it to a boy with instructions to hand a bouquet of flowers to Princess Diana. All Marsh needs to do is push a button and detonate the bomb.
Oliver Queen is waiting for Terry Marsh when he arrives at the flat mere minutes before Prince Charles and Princess Diana are expected. “There won’t be any last hurrah, Terry.” Queen says. “It’s not going to happen.” Marsh disagrees and throws a knife at Queen just as his counterpart releases an arrow from his bow. The boy on the bicycle delivers the flowers to Princess Diana but there is no explosion. Afterwards, Oliver Queen stops the boy and offers to buy the bike. As the boy walks away, counting his cash, Queen places a bloody hand on the bicycle and likewise departs.
On September 15, 1984, Patrick Magee – a member of the Irish Republican Army since 1969, when he joined at the age of eighteen – checked into room 629 at the Grand Hotel in Brighton. Over the next three days, he constructed a bomb with a long-delay timer and placed it inside a nook under the bath.
A little over three weeks later, the 101st Conservative Party Conference was held in Brighton, with many of the guests staying at the Grand Hotel. Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was among them, setting up shop in the first floor Napolean Suite. She was scheduled to speak the Friday of the conference – October 12 – and finished working on her speech at 2:45 a.m. She then took a quick bathroom break before moving on to other business. Two minutes later, the bomb planted earlier by Patrick Magee detonated.
The blast rushed upwards, smashing through two floors and the roof, where it demolished an eleven-foot-tall chimney constructed from five tons of bricks. At that point, everything that went up came crashing back down, but veering slightly from its original trajectory and decimating rooms ending in the number eight. Thatcher’s suite ended in a nine. The bathroom she had been in just minutes earlier was destroyed while the rest of the Napolean Suite remained intact. Five people were killed and 34 injured – the prime minister was not one of them.
Patrick Magee was arrested the following July. He received eight life sentences with no chance of parole for 35 years. The Good Friday Agreement signed in 1998 ending hostilities between the Irish Republican Army and Great Britain called for the release of all IRA prisoners being held by England. Magee was thus freed after only serving fourteen years. Although he came to regret the loss of life caused by his actions, he still maintained that the bombing was a legitimate act of war.
Anthony Letizia