Before setting out on a pub crawl through Belfast with two young friends from Scotland's Royal Highland Fusiliers, Dougald McCaughy, 23, dutifully telephoned his aunt in Glasgow. "Is everything quiet?" she asked anxiously. He laughed. "Are you kidding?" Three hours later Dougald's aunt received another call from Belfast. On a narrow roadway on Squires Hill, four miles west of Ulster's capital, a pair of schoolboys had found the bodies of Dougald and his two friends, brothers Joseph, 18, and John McCaig, 17. The corpses were heaped grotesquely on top of one another....
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