Ireland's Military Story

Category: Irish Army

  • The Ivy Patch Gun

    The Ivy Patch Gun

    The Ivy Patch Gun Possible ‘Four Courts’ Irish Field Gun Returns Home

    By Kenneth L. Smith-Christmas, Lar Joye, and Commandant Stephen MacEoin

    The ‘Ivy Patch’ gun, loaded for shipment back to Ireland, under the supervision of Lieutenant Colonel Paul Carey.

    A potentially very significant 18-pounder Mark II field gun arrived home in Ireland last year, after having been gone for more than fifty years. This gun was made in Scotland during World War I for the British Army, and it could very well have later played a significant role in Irish history, before being sold as surplus scrap metal to an American international arms dealer in 1959, and then finally ending up in a patch of English ivy at a now-shuttered dinner theater in northern Virginia, not far from Washington D.C. The story of its discovery and return is a tale of coincidence and chance, as well as energetic efforts on both sides of the Atlantic.

    The Irish 18-pounders

    At 4am on 28 June 1922, two 18-pounder field guns (serial numbers as yet unknown) opened fire on the Four Courts in Dublin, Ireland, in an action that signalled the beginning of one of the most heartbreaking episodes in Ireland’s long and turbulent history—The Irish Civil War. Six 18-pounder guns (two Mark I’s and four Mark II’s) had been ‘loaned’ by the British Army to the fledgling National Army of the Provisional Irish Government, in order to quell the growing rebellion against the newly established Irish government. A visceral and implacable division had erupted between the Irish nationalists who had spent years fighting the ‘Forces of the Crown’ to bring independence to Ireland. One side, the ‘Free Staters’, supported the 1921 Anglo Irish Treaty with the British government that gave Ireland the same status as other Dominions, like Canada and Australia, but not a complete break from the British Empire. The opposing faction, soon to be dubbed the ‘Irregulars’ or ‘anti-treaty’, would not be satisfied with anything but full independence, and a group of them had holed up in Dublin’s Four Courts building, an imposing Georgian edifice alongside the River Liffey. The Provisional Government demanded their surrender, but when it was refused, they opened fire.

    After three days of shelling with light ‘wire-cutting’ shrapnel rounds from these two guns, the defenders surrendered when their munitions magazine exploded, and the building caught fire. Recent historical research indicates that the explosion was more likely caused by the rebel forces mining the building, rather than from the bombardment. Sadly, the building also contained the Public Records Office, as well as the Four Courts, and it, too, was destroyed. The end result was not only the destruction of a beautiful building, but also the loss of 700 years of archives. Although the building was later rebuilt and re-opened as a judicial court, its loss is still felt today. However, the end of this siege just marked the beginning of a sad, and brutal, conflict that tore close long-time friendships and families asunder, until it ended some eighteen months later. Indeed, except among academics and historical enthusiasts, the subject is still avoided by many people
    in Ireland today, as the memories are too searing. The Irish Free State came into effect on 6 December 1922.

    Between 1926 and 1941, the Irish Department of Defence acquired additional Mark I and Mark II, as well as more modern Mark IV, 18-pounder guns from Britain. During World War II, the British government also supplied Ireland (on 29 December 1937, under the new constitution, the Irish Free State was renamed Ireland) with other military gear and weapons. Concurrently, this ‘Ivy Patch’ Mark II cannon, like all of Ireland’s artillery, was modernised with pneumatic tyres, as well as with a braking system for towing behind motor vehicles. It then continued to serve in the Irish Army, until 1958, when it was sold for scrap metal as part of a shipload of artillery and machine guns to the relatively new firm of International Armament Corporation (Interarmco) of Alexandria, Virginia, (a small city, just down the Potomac River from Washington D.C.). Interarmco ‘Interarmco’, also later known as ‘Interarms’, was founded in the mid-1950’s. Its organiser and president, Sam Cummings, was a savvy and resourceful weapons purchaser who found ‘untraceable’ arms for certain governmental agencies during the 1950’s, and also acquired surplus military arms abroad for civilian sales in the United States. His travels and dealings took him all over the globe, and while in Argentina, he approached the government there and offered to empty its warehouses of obsolete military weapons at ‘bargain basement’ prices. Accordingly, he proposed an offer that the Argentines accepted, and old brick warehouses along the waterfront streets of what is now upscale ‘Old Towne’ Alexandria, Virginia, were soon packed to the ceilings with thousands of M1891 and M1909 Argentine Mauser rifles, hundreds of machine guns, swords, and even 7,000 steel cavalry lances, as well as 542 assorted cannons of all types. The Argentine cannons, mostly of German manufacture, but also from other countries, eventually were dispersed in the local area, across the United States, and around the world. As was the case with the rifles, they were sold at very low prices. Coincidentally, this huge purchase took place in 1959, a few months after the ‘Ivy Patch’ 18 pounder gun arrived in Alexandria on a Finnish cargo ship, the SS Finnmerchant, from Dublin, as part of a shipload of other obsolete surplus Irish cannons (among which were Mark I and Mark II 18-pounders, 4.5” howitzers, and anti-artillery guns, as well as some 60-pounders) and more than 850
    machineguns.

    This 4.5 inch howitzer, sitting on the waterfront of Alexandria, Virginia, was one of the cannon in the same 1959 shipment of war material from Ireland that contained the “Ivy Patch” 18-pdr gun.

    The ‘Ivy Patch’ Gun

    The owner of a then recently-opened dinner theatre and restaurant, overlooking the banks of the Occoquan River a few miles to the south of Alexandria, purchased this 18-pounder gun from Interarmco and set it up among his outdoor gallery of other antiques—old fire engines, farm machinery, and curiosities. Among the other curiosities on the premises was a US-made World War II searchlight, also painted battleship gray like the 18-pounder gun, as well as other similarly painted cannons. There the gun sat in an ivy patch for the next forty-plus years, until the ivy had nearly covered it, and the once-thriving dinner theater declined.

    In February 2006, Ken Smith-Christmas, one of the staff curators at the planning office for the forthcoming National Museum of the U.S. Army, was sent to England, in order to, among other tasks, inspect the restoration work that was being done to an original World War II LCVP (landing craft, vehicle, personnel) wooden landing craft from the Normandy Invasion of 1944. A private firm near Portsmouth, England, was doing the restoration. After checking out the work that had been done to the landing craft, Ken accompanied the owner on a tour of his facility. When Ken noticed a British 18-pounder gun under restoration, he casually asked about it, since he had a life-long interest in World War I. The owner replied that it was being restored for the military exhibition at the National Museum of Ireland in Dublin, and that it was one of the guns that had fired on the Four Courts in 1922.

    Concurrently, this ‘Ivy Patch’ Mark II cannon, like all of Ireland’s artillery, was modernised with pneumatic tyres, as well as with a braking system for towing behind motor vehicles. It then continued to serve in the Irish Army, until 1958

    Ken was very impressed to hear that, as Irish military history had also been a favourite topic of his for many years, and he then asked the owner where the gun had been found. Ken heard the owner’s reply of ‘Argentina’, and that really piqued his interest, since he had grown up in the Alexandria area, and remembered the many fenced lots on the Alexandria waterfront that held all sorts of cannons from Argentina. In fact, when Ken was still in high school, he had tried to buy one of these cannons—a 1903-dated Krupp 77mm field gun— from a man who had acquired it from one of these lots, and had it sitting in front of his house in a neighbouring subdivision. At any rate, Ken also knew of the plans to establish a military museum in Dublin, as he had met its director, Lar Joye, the previous summer at a conference of the International Committee of Museums of Arms and Military History (ICOMAM) that was held in Canada, and he had eagerly listened to Lar’s presentation about the new ‘Soldiers and Chiefs’ exhibition that was coming soon to Dublin’s former Collins Barracks. However, Ken didn’t give the gun in the restoration yard much further thought, and simply looked forward to seeing it in the new museum whenever he could get an opportunity to visit Dublin again.

    A few years later, Ken was stuck in one of the inevitable evening rush hour traffic jams while driving home from his museum planning office in Fort Belvoir, Virginia. While waiting for the line of cars ahead of him to finally move, Ken noticed that he was across the highway from the Lazy Susan Dinner Theater, and recalled that this locale had played a part in a book that he had been reading about Confederate guerillas during the American Civil War. There had been a firefight between Colonel John Mosby’s partisan rangers and a troop of New York cavalry near the Occoquan River, and it had centered around an old house on the hill where the dinner theater now stood. Ken had only visited the dinner theater once, and at night, many, many years before, so, out of curiosity, and in frustration at the barely-moving traffic, he drove up the winding access road to see if the old house was still there. While killing time, and walking around the premises, he stumbled across the Irish Free State-marked 18-pounder gun in the ivy patch. The rubber tyres were rotting away and only the barrel, breech, and shield were still visible above the ivy.

    The ‘Ivy Patch’ Irish Free State 18-pounder gun, as it was discovered on the grounds of a declining dinner theater in Virginia, about English ivy had grown up and around the gun over the years, nearly obscuring it from view.


    Recalling the ‘Argentina’ statement by the restorer in England, and knowing that Interarms was the only logical source of the gun, Ken surmised that this gun, too, must have come from Argentina, as a part of the 1959 Argentine shipment. The two people manning the office at the dinner theater informed Ken that the present owner would never part with the gun, as it was one that his grandfather had acquired, and, as such, it had become a proud family heirloom. Ken left a business card with the staff members and asked them to let him know if there was ever any intention to dispose of the gun. He contacted Lar Joye sometime later about it, but since Lar was very busy with his newly opened museum, and Ken understood that Lar already had what had been described to him as a real ‘Four Courts’ gun, neither of them were too concerned about it. According to the dinner theater staff, the present owner didn’t want to let it go, and even if he did, getting it back across the Atlantic would be a quite a feat.

    When Ken was finally able to visit Lar at his museum in Dublin’s Collins Barracks in June 2013, he saw the same restored 18-pounder gun on exhibit that he had last seen seven years before in England. During a tour of the galleries, Lar told Ken that this gun on display was a Mark IV, and had later been updated, but then had been restored back to its original World War I configuration. Although the artifact label addressed the use of 18 pounders by Irish gunners in World War I and at the Four Courts, this gun, contrary to what Ken had been told earlier in England, had not actually fired on the Four Courts. Lar pointed out that he had been searching for a Mark I or Mark II gun from 2003 to 2006, but could not find one in Ireland. Apparently, no one knew what had happened to the Irish Army’s Mark I’s and Mark II’s, but it was rumored that they had been sold to Argentina or Bolivia. This was most likely the reason for the restoration company’s confusion about the gun’s history and its origins. At this point, Ken reminded Lar about the gun in the ivy patch back at the dinner theater in Virginia, and, although Ken couldn’t recall any of the markings on it—other than the ‘FF’ (Irish Defence Forces emblem) on the breech— or its model designation, Lar said that it might be of interest to the museum, after all.

    A former Irish Army 18-pounder in the National Museum of Ireland, Collins Barracks, Dublin. This example has been restored to a horse drawn Mark II variant.

    In December 2014, Lar contacted Ken about the gun in the ivy patch, and asked him if he would photograph it. At that time, Ken, now retired, was en route to his winter home in Key Largo, Florida, but promised that he would photograph it when he returned from Florida the next spring. However, Ken suffered a near-fatal abdominal aortic aneurysm the following February, so he had to put that project on the back burner when he finally got back to Virginia. Lar reminded him about it the following August, and, while on an errand in northern Virginia a few weeks later, Ken happened to pull off the road by the entrance to the dinner theater. Although he didn’t have his camera with him, he went up to check on the gun. Ken found the gun still lying in the patch of ivy and, while he was looking at it, he happened to meet the current owner. The owner didn’t reveal his last name, but he and Ken soon discovered that they shared a mutual interest in historical firearms, and the owner verified that his grandfather had, indeed, acquired the gun from Interarms in the early 1960s. Ken noted down the serial number and the markings on the gun, and pointed out the interesting potential provenance of the gun to the owner.

    When asked if he would be willing to part with it, the owner said that, since his wife was of Irish ancestry, he might consider it. Ken reported to Lar that the gun was, indeed, a Mark II, and returned a few weeks later to photograph the gun. When he arrived, he saw that the dinner theatre was now closed for good, padlocked gates had been erected at the entrance and exit, and the offices looked deserted. He called the telephone number on the door, and tried to email the owner for days afterwards—all to no avail. Finally, he suggested to Lar that he ask the military attaché at the Irish embassy in Washington to send a letter to the address listed on the dinner theatre’s now-defunct website, in hopes that the owner would be curious about the return address on the envelope, open it, and contact Lar at the museum. While Ken was down in Key Largo again for the winter, his close friend in Alexandria, Bob McDonough (also a student of Irish history), kept a watch on the gun to ensure that it didn’t stray, and stayed in communication with Lar.

    Lar sent several letters to the owner, Glenn Graves, and thankfully, Glenn responded. Since the Republic of Ireland does not have a military attaché in Washington, Lar contacted Colonel Conor FitzSimons, the Irish Defense Forces official representative at the United Nations in New York (and a fellow artillery officer), and arranged a meeting in Virginia for February 2016. Colonel FitzSimons, Commandant Stephen MacEoin (the then director of the Irish Military Archives), and Lar met with Glenn, and found that he was very keen to have the gun returned to Ireland. Glenn was the perfect host to the three Irishmen, and they all spent a delightful winter’s day in a Virginia field, talking about the Civil War— the Irish one, and not the American one!

    After Stephen MacEoin worked out the finer details of the agreement with Glenn, he and Lar recommended the acquisition of the gun to the Chief of Staff of the Irish Defence Forces. The Chief of Staff, in turn, dispatched Lieutenant Colonel Paul Carey, Executive Officer of the J4 Branch, Defence Forces Headquarters, to pick up the gun and transport it back to Ireland. Paul Carey journeyed to the former dinner theater in July 2016, and the gun arrived back in Dublin by the first week of August 2016. This certainly was a remarkably quick turnaround from the initial visit to the arrival of the gun. The ivy patch gun is currently being restored. Research is ongoing, both at the British National Archives in London, and at Military Archives in Dublin to learn exactly which Mark I and Mark II guns were acquired by the Irish Free State prior to July 1922, and hopefully, which ones actually fired on the Four Courts.

    Finally, the entire operation is emblematic of the benefits that the museum community receives from membership in ICOMAM. Had it not been for Ken and Lar’s fortuitous meeting over dinner at the ICOMAM Canada conference in 2005— when they not only became professional colleagues, but good friends—this potentially significant gun would still be sitting in an ivy patch, and unknown to the world, or even worse, possibly melted down for scrap metal.

    Where Are These Cannons Now?

    When the SS Finnmerchant was unloaded on the Alexandria, Virginia, waterfront, in February 1959, there were not only dozens of pieces of artillery and limber/caissons, in crates and on the deck, but also 843 crates of machine guns, on board the ship. On 22 July 1958, the Irish government had disposed of all of it as scrap metal, since there was not a market in Ireland, or in Europe, for these items at the time, as anything but scrap steel. In fact, the cost of shipping the guns to America was more than Sam Cummings had paid for the entire shipment. The artillery consisted of seventeen 18-pounder field guns and trailers (limber/caissons), twenty-two 4.5” howitzers and trailers, and six 60-pounder guns and trailers, along with twenty-three crates containing five 12 pounder guns, four 3-inch anti-artillery guns and mounts, tons of spare parts, and inert ammunition. The serial numbers for the four AA guns were: 1449; 1675; 1677, and, 1711. The five 12-pounder ‘Land Type’ quick firing guns were: 1070 (Drill Purpose); 1544; 1654; 1703, and, 1803. The serial numbers of the five Mark I 18-pounder guns were: 6460; 7209; 7470, and, 10392. The serial numbers of the twelve Mark II 18-pounder guns were: 2819; 2908; 3484; 4254; 4770; 5605; 7554; 7765; 8577; 8976; 9168, and 10756. Number “9168” is the repatriated “Ivy Patch” gun. The ten Mark I 4.5” howitzers were numbered: 20; 135; 861; 1405; 1653; 1686; 1770; 1814; 2132, and, 3109. The twelve Mk II 4.5” howitzers bore the serial numbers: 2209; 2763; 2839; 2871;
    3340; 3350; 3376; 3455; 3559; 3588; 3617, and, 4032. Finally, the six massive 60-pounder guns were numbered as: 1603; 1618; 1634; 1637; 1667, and 1688. These artillery pieces were sold in the local area, across the United States and Canada, and perhaps elsewhere, but aside from the ‘Ivy Patch Gun’, a Mark II 4.5” howitzer (Serial Number 2839) in a private collection in Virginia, and two more 4.5” howitzers at the Pennsylvania State Museum in Boalsburg (near State College in Pennsylvania), the whereabouts of the rest of them is, at present, unknown to the authors.

    The authors thank Michael J. Parker, Esq., formerly of Interarms, for his kind assistance in the preparation of this article, and, of course, Glenn Graves, for his very generous donation of the gun to the National Museum of Ireland. Glenn E. Hyatt, Stefan Rohal, Paul Smith, and Robert McDonough provided information on extant machineguns and cannon from the 1959 ‘Irish Shipment’. The greater part of this article was published previously in the online ICOMAM Magazine in the winter of 2016, and was intended for an international, not a specifically Irish, audience.

    A life-long student of military history and artefacts, Ken Smith- Christmas retired from a 37-year career in military museums— primarily the U.S. Marine Corps, and the U.S. Army. In retirement, he pursues his deep interest in Irish military history, and assists the international museum community in firearms legislation.


  • On A War Footing – interview with Lt Col Ned Cusack Part 1

    On A War Footing – interview with Lt Col Ned Cusack Part 1

    A Guard of Honour for President Douglas Hyde, by members of the 1st Infantry Battalion, during the Emergency. (Image courtesy of Renmore Barracks Museum)

    On A War Footing

    The Emergency Years (Part 1)

    An interview with  Lieutenant Colonel Ned Cusack (Retd)

    First published in Winter 2016 issue.

    For most of us, the Emergency period in Ireland (1939 – 1946) is an account in the history books with black and white images. Nearly all Ireland’s veterans who served abroad or at home during this period have passed away. There are a few veterans still alive and well. To them the events that took place some 75 years ago, are like yesterday. Ned Cusack is 97 years old. Living with his wife Eileen, in Moycullen, Co. Galway, he is a fit, retired Irish Defence Forces officer. Still driving and fully versed in email and the computer, it was amazing to speak to someone who could recollect with such accuracy, the time Ireland braced itself for war.

    Laughing about how times have changed, Ned showed us his Commissioning Certificate signed by Uachtarán na hÉireann Douglas Hyde, Taoiseach Éamon de Valera, and Minister for Defence Oscar Traynor. In Ned’s wedding photograph was none other than a very young Lieutenant Pat Quinlan – the very same Pat Quinlan of Jadotville fame. Pat Quinlan was in Ned’s junior cadet class.

    How times have changed indeed. When Ned and Pat joined up they were wearing the German style Vickers helmet and high collar tunic. Japan, Italy, Germany and Russia were all expanding. It was a time when ideologies redefined the fate of nations. Stalin was purging his people; Adolf Hitler was annexing Austria; and civil war was raging in Spain. To Ned, the world was long at war well before September 1939. This is his story.

    I was born on 1 March 1919. I grew up in Mitchelstown, Co. Cork. Once I completed my Leaving Certificate in the summer of 1938, I applied for the Civil Service. In those days, there were not many jobs in the country. You applied for the likes of clerical officer positions or the ESB (Electricity Supply Board). These were all secure jobs, if you were lucky enough to get one. There were usually only around ten vacancies a year. So, you had to aim to come in the top six to be in with a chance.

    As part of the Civil Service exam I also applied for the Army Cadetship. To my utter surprise I was called for an interview. There was around 300 selected for interview. I remember travelling from Mitchelstown on the bus to St. Bricin’s Military Hospital to do my medical. This was followed by the interview. Six senior officers were in front of me. I was a raw country guy being quizzed by six senior officers. I knew nothing about the Army good, bad or in different. You can imagine how I was feeling.

    At that time the main item of news was the Spanish Civil War. Franco, of course, was topical and Irish men like Frank Ryan who had gone over to take part. It just so happened I knew the answers. About two weeks later I got a letter to report to the Military College in the Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, to start training at the beginning of September.

    Cadet Ned Cusack, 1939.

    The 12th Cadet Class numbered 54. It was a large class as the Army were anticipating the war to come and there was a severe shortage of officers. Six billets with 9 cadets in each billet. Back then everything was in Irish. Everything, all commands, all instructions. You were billeted based on your application results. I was in Gasra 3 (Section 3). That meant all the geniuses were in Gasra 1. We were issued with bulls wool uniforms. I’d never seen such a uniform in my life. It took a while to accustom to military life.

    There were guys from all over the country. There were also several ex-teachers in our class. They had joined the army because their pay was so poor they couldn’t afford rent in Dublin. I asked what in the name of god were you doing leaving a teacher’s job to join the army. They said teachers wages then was diabolical. You couldn’t live off it. After rent you had no money left. In Dublin, you may have to pay 30 Shillings a week in rent. After that the teachers had little left. In the army, they got a uniform, food and digs.

    As Junior Cadets, we got 4 Shillings a day, Senior Cadets – 5 Shillings. I didn’t drink or smoke so this was money bonanza from heaven for me. I could buy a bicycle, a new suit of clothes, and a lovely overcoat. 4 Shillings a day was a lot of money in those days.

    The cadetship was two years. We were straight into it. The first three months you were brought up to corporal level. There were also academic subjects such as French, history and geography. History was a big one. We had to do a lot of European history. All the military training at the time was based on World War I British doctrine. You were all the time talking and studying about slit trenches and digging deep trenches. We wasted a lot of time digging trenches. Mobility was not mentioned much. This way of thinking all changed after the German Blitzkrieg swept across Europe. War clouds darkened over Europe.

    On 19 February 1939, Taoiseach Éamon de Valera announced that Ireland would be neutral if war broke out. In August 1939, we had a year’s training done and granted a month’s annual leave. We were all at home enjoying ourselves. In the middle of the month it was announced via the newspapers and radio that “all ranks are to report back to your units”. Off I headed for the Military College with my cardboard suitcase.

    The 12th Cadet Class (1938 – 1939). Ned is circled.

    The Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact was a neutrality pact between Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union signed in Moscow on 23 August. On 1 September, Nazi Germany invaded Poland. On 2 September, the Oireachtas declared a State of Emergency. This declaration was enacted the following day:

    Make provisions for securing the public safety and the preservation of the State in time of war and, in particular, to make provision for the maintenance of public order and for the provision and control of supplies and services essential to the life of the community, and to provide for divers and other matters (including the charging of fees on certain licences and other documents) connected with the matters aforesaid.

    At 11.15am, 3 September, British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, broadcast on BBC:

    This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German Government a final note stating that, unless we heard from them by 11 o’clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us.

    I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country [Britain] is at war with Germany.

    Junior and Senior Cadets were assembled in the big lecture hall in the Military College. In the back of our minds Cork were playing Kilkenny in the All-Ireland and all Cork and Kilkenny Cadets were geared to go to Croke Park. We were never as close to Croke Park in our lives.

    Addressing us was Major General Hugo MacNeill. He announced “We are now on a war footing. There will be no leave. Everyone is confined to barracks”.

    The General announced that the Senior Cadet class were to be commissioned immediately. He then said to us “I am going to condense your training into six weeks. After that you will be commissioned. In the meantime, you will soldier day and night, seven days a week”.

    Croke Park was not to happen. Worst of all Kilkenny beat Cork by a puck at the last second of the match.

    Later that day, An Taoiseach Éamon de Valera broadcasted on Radio Éireann to the people of Ireland:

    You know from the news bulletins that I have been listening that the great European powers are again at war. That this would be the end, as appears almost inevitable for months’ past. Such an escape we had a year ago, would hardly be expected to occur twice. Yet until a short time ago there was hope. But now hope is gone and the people of Europe are plunged once more into the misery and anguish of war

    Noting the march of events, your government decided its policy early last Spring and announced its decision to you and the world. We resolve with the aim of our policy would be to keep our people out of the war. As I said in the Dáil. With our history, with our experience of the last war and with a part of our country still unjustly severed from us, we felt that no other decision and no other policy was possible

    For those six weeks, we went through hell on earth. We were on manoeuvres well into the darkness and lectures were held in the middle of the night. There were no breaks, no leave. The one good thing was we had no tests. We trained and trained. After six weeks, intense training we were commissioned.

    We thought after that we’d get at least two weeks off. It was not to be. We were to report straight to our new units. Back into the lecture hall and our postings were read out. We had been asked where we would like to be posted. I had put in for the 4th Infantry Battalion or coastal artillery in Cork. Either one was not far from home. Lovely.

    Major General MacNeill announced, “Ned Cusack, 1st Infantry Battalion Galway”. Jesus, I thought where is the 1st Infantry Battalion in Galway. I’d never been to Galway. I was not a happy man. The next morning the saloon car dropped me at Kildare train station, after a change at Athlone, I headed into the Wild West.

    I reported to Renmore Barracks and introduced myself to Major Dineen, the Commanding Officer of the 1st Infantry Battalion. In those days, we used the rank Major as Lieutenant Colonel. He was a 22 man and had what was known as pre-truce service. From Clare, he had fought in the War of Independence and then in the Civil War. After becoming a teacher for a while, he joined the new Defence Forces. A nice man he was a genius on Gallipoli. He knew that battle inside out and lectured us endlessly on the Gallipoli campaign. All his tactics were based on the First World War.

    Now that we were on a war footing the Battalion was on continuous exercise. North Clare and Galway Bay area became very familiar. Nobody knew what was going to happen. If the Germans were to keep coming, more than likely their main thrust would be from the sea. In turn we trained extensively in coastal defence. I remember Ballyvaughan Co. Clare and Spiddal in Galway very well. We defended them until we were blue in the face.

    Changing of the Guard at Renmore Barracks, Galway, 1939. (Image courtesy of Renmore Barracks Museum)

    There was only one lorry for the entire battalion. We had to march everywhere. 10, 20 mile marches were nothing to us. And then a day’s work at the end of it defending the coast, harrying a Company in Defence at dawn. They were great fun. I hadn’t hit my 21st birthday yet and by god we were fit.

    It was very serious training. We spent days on the ranges. I was an expert on the Lewis Light Machine Gun. Our standard rifle was the Lee–Enfield bolt-action .303” and we had the Ordnance ML 3” mortar. The ML 3” mortar is a conventional Stokestype mortar which was muzzle-loaded and drop-fired.

    Later we received the Bren machine gun, the Czechoslovak ZGB 33 version to be precise, and the Brandt mle 27/31 mortar from France. As we were pre-war men the entire battalion was dressed in the German styled Vickers helmet and heather green high collared tunic. We were fierce looking individuals.

    One day in early November I reported to the commanding officer. “You and your platoon are to report to Mallin Head, Co. Donegal’. There was a radio station and observation post up there which had to be guarded and the observation post manned. It was bitterly cold. I got out expecting to see billets. All there was eight man tents. We relieved the unit there and our job was to keep out intruders. At that time our biggest fear was the IRA (Irish Republican Army). They were active at the time. The radio station and the observation post were a vital strategic location as they covered a huge part of the north-west Atlantic. The reports emanating from that post throughout the war were vital to the Irish and the Allied war effort.

    We monitored movements of aircraft, submarines and shipping and gathered all the respective information. It was cold and the food was not the best. I could think of better places to be. After a month, we thought we were going back to Galway. No. we got a call. “You and your platoon are to report to Drumsna in Co. Leitrim in two days’ time”.

    Drumsna was a strategic bridge over the River Shannon connecting Ireland with Northern Ireland. At Drumsna anyone that was crossing the bridge was stopped, searched and questioned. As the officer, I’d have to ask all the questions. Where are you coming from? where are you going? what will you be doing there? Nothing could pass Drumsna bridge without my say so.

    As well as checking any IRA activities we were also getting information on the British activities in the North. Bitter cold, tents, not exactly four-star standard. After about three weeks we were ordered back to barracks for respite.

    Back in barracks in the second week in December we had a cushy time. Lovely nice food and warm beds. Christmas was on the cards and we thought we might get a break and finally get to go home and see the family.

    Well, the senior officers who were still on peacetime mentality said you, you and you orderly officer Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and St. Stephen’s Day. I was on St. Stephen’s Day. The older officers were off home for the Christmas.

    Three young Lieutenants in charge of the barracks. Midnight Christmas Eve, phone call from Command Headquarter Athlone. “Barrack to be placed on lockdown forthwith. No movement. You are to put out patrols internally and externally”. What in the name of god is this all about I asked, “the IRA have raided the Magazine Fort in the Phoenix Park in Dublin, and got away with all our reserve ammunition”.

    Everyone was recalled to barracks. Raids were expected all over the country. That was our Christmas 1939.

    Ned today at his home in Moycullen, Co. Galway.
  • Meeting His Fate Among The Clouds Above

    Meeting His Fate Among The Clouds Above

    Meeting His Fate
    Among the Clouds Above

    By Catherine Fleming, Joe’s niece

    In 1939, Joseph ‘Joe’ Kiernan left his home in Mullingar for a new career that would take him above the clouds of Nazi Germany.

    Published: Winter 2017 edition

    Regarded as the ‘brains’ of the family, Joe left his family home after completing his studies at St. Finian’s College; he was 19 years old. He left behind his parents, Elizabeth and Joseph, and four siblings, Bridie, Willie, Kathleen, and Lilly. He was talented at drawing and travelled across the Irish Sea to train as a Draughtsman with the Ministry of War. The black clouds of war were gathering on the horizon and with its inevitable beginning in September 1939, Joe joined the Royal Air Force (RAF) and due to his academic skills, he was selected to be a pilot. We know of Joe’s story because of the many letters he wrote to his cousin May who lived in England. These letters would later be sent to Joe’s family in Mullingar. Due to the strict censorship at the time, Joe clearly could not always write about what he was doing. At times he just mentions where he was based and comments on things like the accommodation, but little else.

    RAF Boscombe Down: Aircraftman

    Our journey begins with him in early December 1940. He is on his way to the RAF base at Boscombe Down in Wiltshire where he would stay for a little over a month. The base had four grass runways and the trainees stayed in Nissen huts laid in precise rows. The huts were made of corrugated iron on the outside and lined with wood on the inside. With concrete floors Joe found he could get no sleep but shivered despite being buried under the five blankets he had been allocated. That winter was on record as one of the coldest since 1889, with temperatures dropping to -21 F in Cumbria. For this young man the cold and the feeling of constant hunger was his introduction to Boscombe!

    In the early morning the lads had to walk about a mile in freezing conditions to wash and get their breakfast. A lorry did come to collect them, but Joe found that it was always too early or too late. All the young men were anxious to begin their flying course, but knew they had to wait until a vacancy arose in one of the flying schools. They were really disappointed as they were ‘stuck on ground defence’. Sometimes they were allowed down to the huge hangars to look at the planes and dream of a time they would be at last able to get some flying time. During this period several units were stationed at the base. No. 35 Squadron operating Handley Page Halifax; No. 56 Squadron operating the Hawker Hurricane I; No. 109 Squadron operating the Whitley, Anson, and Vickers Wellington; and No. 249 Squadron operating the Hurricane.

    Joe at his barracks. There are only two know images of Joe.

    Joe met with two sergeant pilots one afternoon walking across the grass runway and had a good chat with them about the course. They told him the mathematics part was of primary school level and one of them kindly gave him a loan of some books to study. This pilot wrote home for more books to be posted to the novice. Joe was a little overawed at this kind gesture, but one can imagine a seasoned pilot being empathetic with the enthusiasm of these ‘young whipper –snappers!’ Anxious to keep on top of his studies, Joe had already written home to Ireland for his geography books to be sent over. At this time one letter to his cousin May, he mentions a young blonde WAAF (Women’s Auxiliary Air Force) he saw in the dining hall but felt she was out of his league.

    1/7 Flight No. 9 Receiving Wing: Aircraftman 2nd Class

    By February 1940, Joe was with 1/7 Flight No. 9 Receiving Wing, S Stratford on Avon. The receiving wing units were for new entrees to receive their uniform and kit, and for their paperwork and medicals to be processed. Joe and his fellow recruits were billeted in the Stratford Hotel. Here Joe comments that they had ‘hot water’ and ‘indoor games’ and ‘football’. The men however, were bored and frustrated and a valuable lesson was soon learnt. His letters indicate he had been refused a weekend pass twice. He also applied for a five day leave pass. This was ‘thrown out’. He decided that he would ‘rip off to London’ with three other chaps for the weekend. However, he had no idea that 48 other trainee pilots had the same idea! As he tells us in his letter ‘the o/c thought it was mutiny and a general alarm was sent out’. The allure of a weekend in the cosmopolitan capital must have had a strong pull for these young men. Joe knew nothing of the furore that was going on at the base until he returned after the weekend.

    All of the miscreants were ‘confined to barracks’ for one week and fined one day’s pay. The routine for the week was quite punishing. The men rose at 5.00 am. in order to be properly shaved, dressed and buttons gleaming for Reveille at 6.30am. They had to then march to the guard room for inspection which was a mile away. After a 7.00am breakfast they were assigned fatigues: scrubbing, polishing, sweeping etc. From 10 until 12 noon they had drill and at no time were they allowed to ‘stand at ease’. The day continued with each minute carefully planned; more fatigues, drill, inspection more fatigues and tea at 5.30pm. Even then they were not allowed rest but endured instruction and final bout of fatigues! Then they marched back to the guard room for final inspection and walked the mile back to their hotel. ‘Lights out’ order was given for 10.00pm.

    Writing this to his young cousin, Joe was very philosophical and resigned about it all: ‘I survived and feel better for it. Now, if you join the RAF, when the time comes, don’t lark about and piss off for 48hrs, it’s not worth it. We lost our privileges and were going to be taken off our course’. No. 4 Elementary Flight Training School, RAF Brough: Leading Aircraftman His next letters put him over a year later stationed in Brough near Hull, East Yorkshire, with RAF Training Command, 51 Group, 4 EFTS (Elementary Flying Training School). When he started flight school, we are not exactly sure. What we do know from his letters is that he had been learning to fly the de Havilland DH82a Tiger Moth. This was the standard RAF biplane trainer. Joe made his first solo flight in a Tiger Moth on 2 July. Joe writes that the runway was grassy and wind-swept as it bordered the River Humber.

    ‘It was a marvellous feeling; I took off lovely, circled around the aerodrome, but coming in to land was about 400 feet too high. Round again I went, and this time I got down all right. Today I had 20 minutes of flying solo and did very well. Tomorrow we have mid-term exams…. not much time to study’.

    The days for the student pilots were spent continuously learning long-distance map reading, and the theory of night flying. Joe had to learn Blind Approach Training – that is flying on the sound of radio beams. In a poignant statement he noted that it was ‘really interesting and might save my life one day’. It would be at Brough that instructors decided, upon examining the pilots’ style of flight and confidence, who would go on to join Bomber Command.

    In his letters, Joe was quite concerned about the bombing of Dublin which took place on a beautiful starry night in May 1941, some weeks previous, at precisely 2.05am. 40 people were killed among terror and pandemonium and over 100 were seriously injured. 

    ‘That’s not too far from Mullingar and I think ‘Gerry’ must surely have passed over there, at some time’,

    During the second half of 1941 and into 1942, Joe seems to have moved around quite a bit. By now he had learned how to fly twin engine aircraft, most likely the Avro Anson, and is learning the various skills as a bomber pilot, one of which is flying at night. His letters indicate that he has now been promoted Sergeant Pilot.

    RAF Middleton: Sergeant Pilot

    Joe in the cockpit.

    A letter dated 3 January, 1942 from the Sergeants Mess at RAF Middleton, St. George, Durham. This base was opened in 1941. It was the most northerly bomber base in England used for the night bomber offensives against Germany.

    ‘We had a time getting here. On Dec. 29th we left Brize Norton to go to Topcliffe, Yorks. (Brize was the largest station of the RAF 65 miles west north west of London). After a lot of fooling around at Kings Station we eventually got under way with our kit bags gone on another train! Some idiot put them on the wrong one. Finally, we disembarked at some God forsaken dump where an RAF lorry arrived and picked us up about 3.00am on 30th Dec.
    On arriving at Topcliffe a short time later, we got ‘supper’ and there nobody knew anything about us. That night or morning we slept on the chairs in the anti-room as there was no accommodation for us elsewhere. The following morning after breakfast we had to pay our abominable mess fee. We are to train for Blind Approach- flying on the sound of radio beams. It’s very interesting and may help to save my life someday, if it doesn’t drive me ‘scatty’ before then! Now we leave here on Tuesday, so we weren’t told whether we go back to Brize Norton, or go to OTU or get a few days leave…I don’t know. The OTU’s are all over the place so like Eddie Byrne I too may go to Scotland. Here I met one of the EFTS boys, he’s going on Halifax 4 -engine bombers and he has just finished OTU on Whitleys. What’s in store for me I just can’t
    imagine. Remember me in your prayers, JOE’

    By early January 1942, one can sense a sort of maturity and fatalism entering his letters. The Battle of Britain was over with the RAF suffering losses of approximately 544 fighter pilots. Joe and his comrades were well aware that ‘the chop’ could strike at any moment. He showed his Catholic roots by thanking his cousin for the Rosary beads she had sent. These would be returned to his mother after his death. He begs for letters stating, ‘You’d be surprised what a difference a letter can make’.

    RAF Finningley: Sergeant Pilot

    A letter dated 4 February 1942, puts Joe at RAF Finningley in south Yorkshire. At this time No. 25 Operational Training Unit (OTU) was operating out of Finningley and at the time was phasing out Handley Page Hampdens for Vickers Wellingtons and Avro 679 Manchesters. The flying conditions are not pleasant with ‘slushy snow’ and ‘winds’. OTU’s were one of the final steps in an aircrews’ training period before they reached an operational squadron.

    ‘The powers-to-be are rushing us through the ground course. We are scheduled to fly on Sunday next starting on Wellingtons. The flying equipment has been issued to use battle-dress included. After three or four weeks on Wellingtons we go on to Manchesters’.

    During training, one of his friends, Tommy, was killed at take-off. According to Air Ministry over 8,000 men were killed in non-operational flying; training or accidents during war years. Another close friend Bill McCleod was lying seriously ill in hospital. His plane had pronged when he was coming in to land. Two of McCleod’s crew were killed in this accident. Joe wrote ironically: ‘That’s Life-Luck of the game! I guess’. The crews were now being picked and Joe found himself in ‘a motley crew’. The co-pilot was a Scotsman, the navigator an Englishman, and the wireless operator an Australian. Although the crew may change again Joe hoped not ‘as the fellows are real diggers!’ The crews flew with an experienced pilot and either Joe or a recovered McCleod would act as co-pilot. At this stage in the war, the RAF had stepped up its bombing campaign on Nazi Germany. Bomber Command had a regular front line strength of around 400 aircraft. They were in the process of transitioning from the twin-engine medium bombers to the newer more effective four-engine heavy bombers such as the Handley Page Halifax and Avro Lancaster. To imagine today what the bomber crews had to endure over the skies of Nazi Germany is unconceivable.

    The first ever 1,000 bomber raid by the RAF was conducted on Cologne on the night of 30/31 May 1942. Codenamed Operation Millennium, the massive formation had to be augmented with aircraft and crews from Operational Training Units and from Flying Training Command. Some crews had to be made up of student pilots, just like Joe. For 90 minutes, starting at 00.47am on the 31st, 868 bombed Cologne in a ‘bomber stream’; the first time this tactic had been used. It was hoped that such a concentration of bombers would overwhelm the German defences. The 1,455 tons dropped, two-thirds of which were incendiaries, started 2,500 separate fires. These fires quickly engulfed the city in a firestorm which left 12,840 buildings damaged or destroyed. Residential buildings suffered the worst with some 13,010 destroyed, 6,360 seriously damaged, 22,270 lightly damaged. The RAF lost 43 aircraft.

    RAF Scampton: Sergeant Pilot

    Joe’s next letters place him at RAF Scampton, Lincolnshire. We are not exactly sure what unit he was with here or since when. We do know that at this time 83 Conversion Flight and 49 Conversion Flight were operating from this station and converting crews to the four engine Avro Lancaster. By July 1942, Joe’s mood is one of frustration. According to his letters the waiting for active service seems intolerable. His wait would soon be over.

    RAF Syerston, 207 Squadron: Sergeant Pilot

    An operational tour for an RAF bomber crew consisted of 30 non-aborted, operational sorties. Joe’s first foray into the heat of battle finally came in late August. As part of 207 Squadron, based at RAF Bottesford, his plane was one of 113 bombers to head out over enemy territory to bomb Nuremberg on the night of 28/29 August. Nuremberg was dear to the Nazi heart as it was the site of their great pre-war rallies. Incendiary bombs were also used in this raid. Over Nuremberg, Pathfinders used ‘target indicators’ for the first time, to mark the aiming point. These were tiny little incendiary balls released from a single bomb which burned brightly for five minutes. This was deemed long enough to guide the bombers to their target. Approaching from the south, the squadron’s crews were able to make fixes from the river, canal and autobahn which were clearly visible in the bright moonlight. The town received only moderate damage despite the accuracy of the markers. Again, the force suffered heavy losses with the Wellington Squadrons bearing the brunt of the casualties. Of the 159 aircraft dispatched, 23 were reported missing – 14 Wellingtons, 4 Lancasters, 3 Short Stirlings and 2 Halifaxes. Joe’s crew was not one of them. The squadron relocated to RAF Langar on 21 September, owing to the Bottesford runway surface breaking up and needing urgent repairs. Joe’s second mission was a night-time bombing raid on Munich which took place on the night of 19/20 September.

    No. 50 Squadron, Lancaster VN-D in formation with other Lancaster’s possibly also of No. 50 Squadron, during a daylight operation (c. 1944-45). (Image: www. ancaster-archive.com)

    The distance was enormous at 2,000kms round trip mostly over enemy territory. 68 Lancasters and 21 Stirlings took part. In a German letter dated 19 October 1942, Prof. Carl Muth stated the raid over Munich was apocalyptic. More than 400 people were killed: ‘Houses toppled over like boxes. Whoever experienced this single hour will never forget it as long as they live’. Joe found the killing of civilians deeply disturbing and on his last visit home told his mother as much. He said he always thought he could hear the screams of the casualties on the return leg of the mission. Of course, he knew that was impossible but in those days, no one had known of ‘post-traumatic stress’ one just had to get on with it and do what was expected.

    A Bomber Command veteran, Peter George, wrote in the Daily Mail, 12 June 2012 ‘No one talked about the raids. That’s what it meant to fight in Bomber Command in WW2. Very much alive one minute, in the prime of life; very dead the next, shot down, wiped out, obliterated. The courage needed was breath-taking! It took incredible guts to keep going, time after time, when the odds were so heavily stacked against them!’

    50 Squadron: Sergeant Pilot

    joe’s last letter is dated 14 November 1942, from RAF Swinderby. Although not in his letters, we do know from family members, that Joe managed a short leave home to Ireland to see his family. His younger brother Willie was serving in the Cavalry Corps with the Irish Army and stationed in Longford. Getting word, somehow, that his brother was home, Willie borrowed a bike and cycled the 42kms home to see him. Both brothers were keen on boxing. Joe mentioned it in his last letter, that he was sore from boxing in his free time in the gym. Willie was to become the All-Ireland Boxing Champion for the Army and went on to start the Ballagh Boxing Club in Co. Wexford. Before he left for England, Joe gave his younger brother his watch and pen and told him not to worry; everything would be alright. When his mother asked him, ‘What if the Germans get you?’ Joe’s reply was ‘Mam, Gerry will never get me alive’.

    Cologne Cathedral stands seemingly undamaged (although having been directly hit several times and damaged severely) while entire area surrounding it is completely devastated. The Hauptbahnhof (Köln Central Station) and Hohenzollern Bridge lie damaged to the north and east of the cathedral. Germany, 24 April 1945. (Image: U.S. National Archives)

    By the end of 1942, Joe was now posted to 50 Squadron. His third raid was part of the 19-week Battle of the Ruhr. The city of Duisburg was their target. Duisburg was a centre of chemical, iron and steel works. Based at RAF Skellingthorpe all the crews could do was wait on the morning of 8 January 1943. From the moment, usually around 11am, when the crews discovered they were flying that night, until take off they lived the day with strong determination not to show their fear. Like other crews Joe’s probably nominated one of their group to ‘water’ the tail and thus give the aircraft good luck! They had a total acceptance of their fate but that did not stop knees from knocking and a dry mouth from lack of saliva.

    As pilot, Joe sat on the left-hand side of the cockpit. There was no co-pilot. Beside him sat 23-year-old Sergeant Phillip Fisher from England; his Flight Engineer who sat on a folding chair. Philip’s position no doubt became very uncomfortable during the long flights. He was in charge of everything mechanical on the Lancaster. Phillip would start the engines, control the throttles, get the wheels up and trim the flaps. The Navigator sat at a table facing left directly behind the pilot. His job would prove all the more difficult this night as fog reduced visibility and cloud was dark and heavy. His unenviable job was to keep the plane on course at all times, reach the target and guide the men home safely. Young Eric Charles from England had to keep transmitting messages to their base as Wireless Operator. Both gunners were only 20-years-old and their job was the loneliest. They were separated from the rest of the crew and jammed into unheated turrets; one mid-upper and one at the rear of the fuselage. Their job was to advise the pilot of enemy aircraft movements in order for him to take evasive action. When the crew heard a gunner shout ‘WEAVE’ it meant the FLAK from the anti-aircraft guns were training them or a fighter had them in its sights.

    The night of 8/9 January, there was no escaping the FLAK for Joe’s Lancaster B MK 1 coded VN-T W4800. Despite Joe’s efforts to speed up, weave and twist, the plane and its crew were badly hit. They struggled onwards due south for maybe minutes. It must have felt like a lifetime for the young crew. Finally, they crashed 30kms south near Dusseldorf. All seven were killed. They now became part of the 55,000 men of Bomber Command who gave their lives when fate called them among the clouds. Joe was posthumously promoted to Flight Sergeant. His family were devastated when they received the news.

    Joe’s Resting Place: Flight Sergeant

    On a country road between Cleves in Germany and Grennop in Holland on the German side of the border lies the largest Commonwealth Cemetery of either World War in terms of area. It contains 7,654 graves and is called the Reichswald Forest War Cemetery. At the end of the war in 1945, the remains of thousands of soldiers and airmen were brought from western Germany to lie here. Nearly 4,000 airmen are buried here, all brothers united. My uncle Joseph Kiernan is one of these.

    ‘My brief sweet life is over.
     My eyes no longer see.
     No Christmas tree, no summer walks,
     no pretty girls for me.
     I’ve got ‘’the chop. I’ve had it.
     All the nightly ops. are done.
     Yet in another hundred years,
     I’ll still be twenty-one’.
     RAF Skellingthorpe Memorial

    Catherine Fleming is a retired primary school teacher from Scoil Na Mainistreach, in Celbridge, Co. Kildare. While there she set up the history squad encouraging students to explore family and local history. Catherine’s mother Kathleen, Joe’s sister, served in the Auxiliary Transport Service while her father Tom served in Medical Corps of the Irish Defence Forces. They are stories for another time. Thank you to Mike Connock from RAF No. 50 and No. 60 Squadrons Association for all his assistance in helping researching Joe’s RAF service.

  • Ireland’s Emergency Fortress – Fort Shannon

    Ireland’s Emergency Fortress

    Fort Shannon, County Kerry

    By Pat Dargan

    Photos by author and Ken Mooney

    Published in Autumn 2017 edition

    An aerial view in which you can clearly see the remains of one of the Fort
    Shannon gun emplacements, with the open gun chamber, overhead beam, gun
    mounting, parapet, and the entrance to the magazine passage at the rear. (Photo by Ken Mooney

    During the Second World War a vast range of forts and military defence installations were constructed across the European war zone. These included, for example, the German Atlantic Wall that stretched from Spain to Norway, which was laid out to guard the coast against an Allied invasion, or the British defence system built to defend the country against a possible German attack. Here an equally extensive range of gun emplacements, anti-invasion obstacles, and forts were constructed in coastal, estuarial and inland positions. During the same war time period, the Irish government built only a single large-scale military installation: Fort Shannon on the County Kerry side of the Shannon Estuary. The Irish government was concerned that an invasion force could strike up the Shannon to Limerick and quickly reach the interior of the country.

    Coast Defence Artillery

    As Ireland took a neutral position in the war, it was felt that such an attack could originate from Germany or Britain. The government established a number of coastal defence forts around the coastline around the same time, but these were essentially the nineteenth century structures that the British authorities had kept under the Anglo/Irish Treaty. The forts were handed over to the Irish government in 1938. When World War II broke out the coastal defence installations became vital to the defence of Ireland’s deep-water ports. There were five Coast Defence Artillery installations in the Southern Command and two installations in the Western Command. Manned by the Artillery Corps, Coast Defence Artillery Detachments were deployed as follows:

    Southern Command

    Forts Westmoreland, Carlisle and Templebreedy in Cork Harbour, Co. Cork. Fort Berehaven in Bantry Bay, Co. Cork. Fort Shannon on the Shannon estuary, Co. Kerry, from 1942.

    Western Command

    Forts Dunree and Lenan in Lough Swilly, Co. Donegal. Armaments varied between installations. They included some 26 coastal artillery pieces: 9.2”, 6”, 4.7”, 60-pounders with a number of naval 12-pounders and Hotchkiss 3-pounders. The forts and their guns were manned 24/7 all year round. They had a primary role of the defence of the respective harbour. Furthermore, these harbours were deemed ‘controlled ports’. This gave Coast Defence Artillery a secondary role of ‘Control of Examination Anchorage’. This meant that all ships entering the harbours had to be searched and deemed ‘Safe’ by the Examination Service. The Coast Defence Artillery installations were supported by the Corps of Engineers Coast Defence Company. Headquartered at Fort Camden in Cork Harbour, the unit consisted of 232 all ranks. Its main task was the engineering support of the coastal defence installations and the provision of seventeen searchlights. The engineers were deployed to all coastal installations except Fort Lenan which had no searchlights. The installations were further augmented by detachments of the regular Army, Local Defence Force and the Marine Service/Marine Inscription Service.

    A five-acre site near Tarbert in Kerry was chosen for the new Coast Defence Artillery installation to be named Fort Shannon

    Fort Shannon

    In 1941, it was decided that the Examination Service for the Shannon estuary, based at the port of Cappa on the Clare side, would need artillery support. A five-acre site near Tarbert in Kerry was chosen for the new Coast Defence Artillery installation to be named Fort Shannon. It was to be armed with a battery of 6” guns, a machine gun platoon and a searchlight detachment. Commandant Mick Sugrue came from Fort Carlisle (now Fort David) to assume command and oversee the construction. Gunners were dispatched from Kildare Barracks and the Cork Harbour Forts. Land was bought and leased. Communication by day and night across the estuary was assured by the building of Look Out Posts (LOPs), and augmenting these with wireless and telephone. Thus, Loop Head, Kilcraudaun Head and the Examination Service on the north shore were linked with Doon Head, Scattery Island and Fort Shannon. Close liaison was maintained with the Harbour Master at Limerick, who held a naval rank of Lieutenant Commander. He was responsible for movement of all shipping in and out of the estuary. Fort Shannon was not a fort in the strict military sense, but a pair of coastal defence guns positioned at Ardmore Point, overlooking the Shannon estuary, a short distance down river from Tarbert. The site is roughly oval in plan, set on a broad ledge high above the estuary, with the largely undefined boundaries swinging along the southern inland boundary. The terrain rises sharply from the water to an approximately level position – although it could easily be scaled in an assault – and rises slightly again a little further inland; with a farm-style gateway on both the east and west sides.

    Original map of Fort Shannon. (Courtesy of Military Archives)

    The site for the fort was, however, carefully chosen. Ardmore Point projects into the estuary and faces downstream to cover a point where the width of the navigable channel is limited between Scattery Island on the north bank and Carrig Island on the opposite side. Consequently, an enemy vessel seeking to pass between the islands is forced to present its bow, or front, directly to the fort so that it can engage only its forward armament in an attack. Today Fort Shannon is very overgrown with trees and shrubs. Nevertheless, it is possible to identify the main military elements. The two-gun emplacements can be seen overlooking the estuary: one near the east side of the oval, the other in a more central position. West of these is a pair of searchlight enclosures near the river edge, with the Power House and Communications Building on the higher level behind, while three machine gun pillboxes can be seen stretching along the curved southern boundary. The Power House and Communications Centre is a single story domestic looking stone built building with a galvanised steel hipped roof and four large rectangular windows facing the estuary. The doorway to the interior is on the landward side.

    Gun Emplacements

    The two-gun emplacements in the centre of the site are the most obvious features of the fort. Each consists of a gun chamber, behind which an underground passageway provides a link to the magazine. The gun emplacements in both cases were built with mass concrete sides and roof, inside which the gun chamber was open to the estuary, except for a low parapet behind which the gun was positioned. Overhead a heavy metal beam remains built into the underside of the roof, which allowed the gun to be manoeuvred into position on its mounting that still remains. There are two stores at the rear of the gun chamber with the entrance to the magazine access passage between. The dogleg route of the access passage leads to the magazine. This was also provided with an external concrete stair leading to ground level near, the doorway to the magazine chamber. The inclusion of the dogleg was presumably to minimise the force of a blast from an artillery or air strike, on either the gun chamber or the magazine. Both magazines were of mass concrete construction and were completely underground. They were given no windows, but each had small roof apertures to provide some degree of ventilation. During the construction period it seems as if the top soil of the site was stripped away and once the concrete structures were completed the soil was returned to partially cover the sides and roofs of the emplacement and magazine for camouflage purposes.

    • A 6-inch Mk VII coastal defence gun,
      similar to those that existed in Fort
      Shannon, being test fired in Grey Point
      Fort Museum, Helen’s Bay, County Down
      in 2014.
    • A restored Ordnance QF (Quick Firing)
      4.7-inch coastal defence gun. These
      guns were used on Bere island and Fort
      Dunree. This gun is on display in Fort
      Mitchell Museum, Spike Island.

    The Guns

    Both guns were 6” Breach Loading (BL), Mk VII, coastal defence guns, manufactured by Vickers between 1902 and 1903. Although the manufacture of these guns’ dates from the early twentieth century, they were the standard British coastal defence weapon of the period and remained so for the duration of the war. Initially each of the Shannon guns was supplied with 120 rounds and it took a ten-man crew to load, operate and fire each gun with a capacity of eight rounds per minute. Today the Shannon Fort guns are no longer present, but seem to have been transferred to Fort Dunree Museum in Co. Donegal where they have been partially restored and are on display.

    Searchlights

    The two anti-aircraft searchlights were housed in a pair of flat roofed concrete structure, each with a wide aperture that allowed the searchlight to be directed across and down the estuary. The positioning of the lights would have provided sufficient scope to illuminate any would-be attacker attempting to sail up the estuary, under the cover of darkness. Today the concrete structure, the rusted metal drum of the lamp, and the parts of the concrete housing is all that survives.

    Pillboxes

    The three flat roofed mass concrete pillboxes placed on the raised ground around the landward perimeter overlook the site. Each of the boxes is set into the ground with a square plan a small entrance doorway and narrow vertical slot on each of the four faces. The purpose of the pillboxes was presumably to provide machine gun cover against a direct assault from either the river or the landward side. In the case of an attack, the defence capabilities of Fort Shannon would have been restricted, not least by the limited stock of ammunition held. Furthermore, the rate of fire of the two guns would have been slow and the concrete structures would not have been sufficient to withstand a concentrated bombardment.

    A view from one of the pillboxes. Across the
    Shannon Estuary you can see Money point
    Power Station Co, Clare.

    Called into action

    Throughout the Emergency years the gunners and engineers of Fort Shannon guarded their posts. The only shots fired were during practise. Its personnel were called out on one occasion however. According to an article on Coastal Defence Artillery in An Cosantóir, November 1973, by Commandant J. E. Dawson and Lieutenant C. Lawler, the men of Fort Shannon went to the rescue of the Merchant Vessel E.D.J. after it went aground near Cappa during a gale. Thankfully no lives were lost.

    The fort closes

    The fort experienced only a limited lifespan. It was abandoned at the end of the Emergency in 1946, when Commandant Mick Sugrue evacuated the fort on 31 May, 1946. Only a small skeleton crew remained behind for a short period after. Today the fort lies abandoned and derelict. Whatever wooden support buildings that originally existed have now disappeared. Fortunately, a restored example of the Fort Shannon gun-types can be seen in Fort Mitchell (Fort Westmorland) Museum on Spike Island, while in Grey Point Fort Museum in Co. Down, a pair of similar guns is maintained in working order, one of which was successfully test fired as recently as 2014. Nevertheless, Fort Shannon remains an important feature of Irish military history and today the dilapidated and neglected state of the site reflects poorly on the authorities responsible for its upkeep. This is particularly so, when contrasted with other similar fortifications around the Irish coastline, such as the museums at Fort Dundee, Fort Mitchell and Gray Point Fort, where restored and heavy and light weaponry are clearly and attractively presented to visitors.

    Today the remains of Fort Shannon still stands sentinel over the Shannon estuary.

  • The Guns of Spike Island

    The Guns of Spike Island

    By Wesley Bourke

    Photos by Ken Mooney

    Published in Summer 2017 edition

    Fort Mitchel – Guarding the entrance to Cork Harbour. (Image courtesy of Spike Island)

    In the last 1,300 years Spike Island, in Cork Harbour, has been host to a 6th century Monastery and a 24-acre fortress that became the largest convict depot in the world during Victorian times. The island’s rich history has included monks and monasteries, rioters, captains and convicts and sinners and saints. Today the island is dominated by the 200-year old Fort Mitchel, the star shaped fortress which became a prison holding over 2,300 convicts. Now a magnificently restored visitors centre the fort is open to the public all year round. The fort is also home to Ireland’s largest collection of restored artillery. Superintendent Spike Island, Tom O’Neill (a retired Reserve Defence Forces officer and Prison Officer), gave us a guided tour around Spike Island’s defences and their artillery collection.

    The entrance to Spike Island. (Photo by Ken Mooney)

    When Tom advised us that we’d need the entire day to see the restored fort, we thought he was kidding. Spike Island is an experience like none other in the country. Your journey starts at Kennedy Pier, in Cobh, where you embark on a ferry. The trip across for us modern day tourists is one of beauty. The estuary of the river Lee is full of stunning scenery and all kinds of wildlife. Once inside the walls you are immediately taken aback by the sheer size of the fort. On the ferry over it is difficult to grasp the scale. Inside, you can only imagine what the fortress must have been like when full of soldiers and bristling with artillery.

    A view of the dry moat, Bastion 4, and the Flanking Galleries. (Photo by Ken Mooney)

    As a natural deep-water port, Cork has been a tempting strategic target throughout history. Due to threats by the French in the 18th century, it was decided to improve the fortifications of Cork Harbour. Spike Island, at the mouth of the estuary, acts as a natural gun emplacement. A pre-existing fortification existed on Spike Island, but a more modern fort was needed. In 1789, building work began on a stone-built fort designed by Colonel Charles Vallancey. It was named Fort Westmoreland in honour of John Fane, 10th Earl of Westmoreland and Lord Lieutenant of Ireland from 1789 to 1794.

    “The star shape allows the defenders in the fort to fire over all parts of the island, making the whole island an effective kill zone for anyone who dare enter”

    Fortress Spike

    With the threat from Napoleon, fortifications in the harbour were further enhanced. The next construction began in 1804. The six-bastion star shaped fort was completed by the mid-19th century. The fort was designed to stop enemy vessels in their path and defend itself from landing attacks. The star shape allows the defenders in the fort to fire over all parts of the island, making the whole island an effective kill zone for anyone who dare attack. Flanking galleries further allowed the defender to pour musket and artillery fire into the ranks of a landing force that got close enough. The fort is surrounded by a dry moat. If troops landed, they couldn’t see the moat. Facing them was a raised slope called a glacis. Advancing in the open they would have been cut to pieces.

    Members of 1st Artillery Regiment in training on the QF 12-pounder 12 cwt coast defence gun.
    (Photo by A/B Davey Jones. Irish Naval Service)

    This fort was originally armed with 29 24-pounder guns, two 12-pounder guns and twelve 6-pounder cannons. Along with howitzers and mortars it was a formidable obstacle in any belligerent’s path. As technology evolved so did the artillery on the island. When excavations were taking place in the fort, three old smoothbores were recovered, later restored and are now on display.

    Supported by other forts – Carlisle (now Fort Davis), Camden (now Fort Meagher), and Templebredy, it is no wonder no one ever dared attack Cork. Fort Camden and Fort Carlisle were built at opposite sides of the harbour entrance during the period of the American War of Independence, Templebredy was built in 1910, at the back of Crosshaven facing out to the sea. If an enemy vessel managed to get through the entrance, straight in front of them would have been the guns of Spike Island. The fort was of such strategic importance that the British First Sea Lord, Winston Churchill, later called the island ‘The sentinel tower of the approaches to Western Europe’.

    C Block and Mitchel Hall in the centre. (Photo by Ken Mooney)

    By the turn of the 20th century the fort was armed with breech loading rifled guns. The 6-inch Mk VII gun, together with the 9.2-inch Mk X gun, provided the main coastal defence throughout the British Empire, and later Ireland, from the early 1900’s until the abolition of coastal artillery in the 1950’s. When the fort was handed over to the Irish Free State in 1938, it was renamed Fort Mitchel after the Nationalist hero, John Mitchel, Mitchel, who was a prisoner on Spike Island in May 1848. As Tom took us around the restored bastions, he told us that that Spike was armed with the 6-inch guns. The 9.2-inch were mounted on Templebredy and Fort Davis. Unfortunately, there are no 9.2-inch guns left in the country. However, Spike Island has two beautifully restored 6-inch guns. Grey Point Fort near Belfast also has two, former Irish Army, restored 6-inch guns. The 6-inch guns had a crew of 9. It could fire Lyddite, HE, and Shrapnel 100 lb shells. With a rate of fire of eight rounds a minute, it could engage targets up to13,400m (light charge) or 14,400m (heavy charge). The 6-inch guns at Spike were originally mounted out in the open. Interestingly, during the early 1940’s, the Irish Army moved the 6-inch guns on Spike into underground emplacements. This was some undertaking. The most logical reason for this was to protect them from aerial or naval bombardment.  Today on Bastion 3 where the 6-inch guns used to be, are a battery of four QF 12-pounder 12 cwt guns. They are still in working condition and are the Irish Army’s saluting battery for Cork Harbour.

    As part of the restoration, the underground emplacements have been completely restored – along with 6-inch guns. The underground emplacements include: crew quarters, a Battery Observation Post, and gun emplacement. The Battery Observation Post gives you a clear view out to the mouth of Cork Harbour. From here the officer would have worked out the distance, elevation and range of the enemy target.

    The Gun Park

    Spike Island is also home to a unique collection of artillery pieces. The collection traces the use of artillery in Ireland from the 1700’s up to the present-day Irish Army. Some pieces you will be very familiar with, including the Bofors L/60 and L/70 40mm anti-aircraft guns, and the British Ordnance QF 18 and 25-pounders. Others such as a 17-inch anti-tank gun and a 4.7-inch coastal gun are one of a kind examples in Ireland. All are kept out of the elements in the Gun Park.

    The earliest artillery piece in the collection is the 12-pounder cannon. It is one of Spike Island’s oldest artillery pieces. The crest of King George III on the barrel dates the piece to the late 1700’s. Designed as a naval gun, this piece was used for coastal defence. This is indicated by the presence of a breeching ring at the rear of the gun, through which a strong rope was passed and fixed to either side of the gun port opening to control recoil when the gun rolled back upon firing. This is one of three such cannon on Spike Island. They were used as bollards on the pier and were removed in circa 1999, restored and mounted for display. The 7-inch Rifled Muzzle Loading Cannon on display represents the progression of artillery technology, with the introduction of rifling grooves cut into the barrel to impart spin and stability to the shell while in flight. Dating from 1865, three of these massive 7-inch guns were mounted on Spike Island, one on each of the three bastions facing Cobh.  The introduction of breech loaded guns rendered them obsolete.

    “A one of a kind and the envy of the artillery community is the QF 4.7-inch coastal gun. This gun was made by the Elswick Ordnance Company of England. Spike Island’s 4.7- inch dates from 1910, is one of only two known surviving examples in Ireland”

    The QF 12-pounder was originally designed as a shipboard naval weapon, also used for coastal defence. Batteries were positioned in Forts Carlisle and Camden, providing protection against torpedo boats and covering the Cork Harbour minefield. The thickly armoured shield provided protection for the crew operating in open gun emplacements and is considered extremely rare. A one of a kind and the envy of the artillery community is the QF 4.7-inch coastal gun. This gun was made by the Elswick Ordnance Company of England. Spike Island’s 4.7-inch dates from 1910. It is one of only two known surviving examples in Ireland; the other is at Fort Dunree in Co. Donegal. This rare gun has been the subject of an extensive restoration project and must be among the best-preserved examples of its type in the world. Luckily the brass fittings and breach block were still in the Irish Army stores. ‘It was originally thought that the guns were from Bere Island. However, the Fortress Study Group found that the 4.7-inch was originally bought for the Irish Army in 1940, for a gun emplacement in Galway Bay. The emplacement was never built and the guns were put in storage. How many were brought in is unclear.

    • Bofors L/70 Anti Aircraft Gun alongside a QF 18-pounder
    • Leyland Machine Lorry
    • A 25pdr and a 17pdr
    • A 12-pounder cannon

    The Bofors anti–aircraft guns are very much at home in Spike. During the Emergency years (1939 1946) anti-aircraft emplacements were built on Spike. In later years, the 4th Air Defence Battery was also based on the island. The Bofors L/60 pm display is one of the very guns that served on Spike from 1980 – 1985. Another rare artillery piece in the collection is the Ordnance QF 17-pounder Anti-Tank Gun. Developed in World War II to counter new and heavily armoured German tanks, the 17 pounders proved a battlefield success. The 17-pounder served with the Irish Army from 1949 to 1962. It too is fully restored.

    Spike Island visitors centre is only open two years. In that very short time the team on the island has done incredible work. The artillery collection on the island is an aspect of Irish military history that has not been written about that much. At one time gun emplacements and forts with their coastal artillery dotted the coastline well into the 1950’s. One by one the forts were no longer used and the gunners’ story was forgotten.

    Gun by gun and barrel by barrel, the team on Spike Island is preserving and retelling that story. The management on Spike Island are most grateful to the Department of Defence and members of the Defence Forces for their outstanding support in the project. They are also very fortunate in having a dedicated team of volunteers working on the guns and in the museum.

    There are many more fascinating stories to come from Spike Island including the Aud Exhibition and that of the prisoners who were there. Watch out for more on Ireland’s island fortress.

    Spike Island – Cork Harbour Ferries depart from Kennedy pier Cobh, which is right in the town centre next to Titanic Cobh. Tickets can be purchased from the kiosk on the pier, or save money and book online. Online booking is highly recommended during the busy summer months to secure you preferred sailing and avoid disappointment. Open year round for pre-booked tour groups of 15 or more, contact Spike Island for booking. Regular sailings for walk up passengers (advance online booking recommended):

    For pre-booking call: 021-4811485

    Or

    E: admin@spikeislandcork.ie to book

    For sailing times from Kennedy pier

    please check: www.spikeislandcork.ie/visit

  • In Defence of Peace – The Siege of Jadotville

    In Defence of Peace

    The Siege of Jadotville

    By James Durney

    Published in Winter 2016 edition

    Commandant Quinlan alongside a Thompson Ford Armoured Car at Jadotville.
    (image courtesy of An Cosantóir – the Defence Forces magazine)

    The United Nations Operation in the Congo (Opération des Nations Unies au Congo, or ONUC), was established in July 1960. Ireland was one of the first countries to contribute peacekeepers to the mission. In June 1961, the Irish Defence Forces’ 35th Infantry Battalion deployed to the Congo.

    The Situation in Congo Deteriorates

    By early August 1961, with a functioning government and parliament established, it was time to end Katanga’s secession from the Congo. Operation Rumpunch was designed to take into custody and repatriate European Gendarmerie officers and mercenaries. It began with a raid on Gendarmerie headquarters in Élisabethville by Irish troops and simultaneous raids and arrests by other United Nations (UN) forces. At this time there was 400 foreign mercenaries and advisers still in Katanga, mostly in the south of the country, protecting the Union Minière du Haut Katanga (mining union of Katanga) operations.

    On the morning of 28 August, UN forces began apprehending European officers in Élisabethville and in the North Katangan centres. At the same time the UN also occupied the premises of the post office and radio and set a guard, comprising of Irish troops, around Katanga’s Minister of the Interior, Godefroid Munongo Mwenda’s villa. UN representatives, including Dr. Conor Cruise O’Brien, Ireland’s special representative to Dag Hammarskjöld, Secretary General of the UN, met the Katangan government and received the answer that President Moïse Tshombe was willing to give full co-operation, to dismiss all the foreign officers. Tshombe then broadcasted a statement, free from complaint or hostility, in which he said that he bowed to the UN decision and that ‘all foreign officers were dismissed from service and must leave Katanga’.

    By 8 September, 273 foreign mercenaries had been repatriated, while another 65 were waiting to go. However, another 104 were unaccounted for. With their replacement in the Gendarmerie by African officers a revolt by the Gendarmerie against the Tshombe regime was quite possible. An African mutiny would possibly take an anti-European turn and UN troops were requested to protect white populations in the Katanga mining belt. There were 32,000 Europeans in Katanga. Few of them owned land, or their own businesses’ and most worked for one of the great companies of the Union Minière or for economically subsidiary enterprises like the Simba Brewery.

    Meanwhile, the Katangan Government began a propaganda campaign against the UN. Katanga Radio accused UN troops of rape and pillage in Élisabethville, while the Union Minière announced publicly that it was ready to repatriate European women and children if that became necessary ‘as a result of the activities of the UN’. President Tshombe announced a UN plot to arrest him, disarm the Gendarmerie and send in the Congolese army. Demonstrations against the UN began with troops being stoned, mainly by youths organised by the Gendarmerie.

    A Company Deploys

    Members of A Company. By the time A Company was cut off there were 157 personnel in the camp, including two Scandinavian pilots and an interpreter.
    (Image courtesy of Declan Power)

    It was into this flashpoint that, on 11 September, the 155 strong A Company, 35th Battalion, arrived into the sprawling mining town of Jadotville. This number also included two Thompson Ford Mark VI armoured cars under the command of Lieutenant Kevin Knightly. The Irish were replacing a 300-strong Swedish force who had been openly informed by the European population that they were not wanted. The Swedish commander sensing his isolation and precarious position withdrew on ½ September. As the Swedes had ostensibly withdrew without orders ONUC needed to save face and a new force had to be assembled to protect the white population in the town from an allegedly growing threat from the local populace. The only unit available was A Company.

    Initially, A Company were well received, but the situation changed when the Gendarmerie staged a mock attack and advance up to the Irish lines before being recalled. A Company commanding officer, Commandant Patrick Quinlan, ordered his men to hastily dig five-foot deep trenches around their encampment on the outskirts of the town. Soon A Company found itself surrounded by hundreds of Katangese, their Belgian advisers and a contingent of French mercenaries who drove around the camp in jeeps pointing their mounted machine guns at them.

    Commandant Pat Quinlan ID Card. (Image courtesy of Military Archives)

    Jadotville veteran Pat Dunleavey (Then a Private), from Mullingar, said: ‘We were billeted in disused galvanised houses and tents around an abandoned disused garage with pumps and a forecourt. Commandant Quinlan visited Jadotville to meet the mayor and quickly saw the hostility towards the UN. On return he called his platoon officers together and briefed them on the situation. He patrolled the area and ordered us to dig trenches in strategic areas. The ground here was as hard as concrete. Commandant Quinlan was called in again to Jadotville and threatened that if we did not move out and back to Élisabethville hostilities would erupt. He called a conference that night and told the men of the company’s situation’.

    More trenches were dug 20-30 yards apart. The two armoured cars were placed in an enfilade position from where they could cut off infiltrating enemy attacks and provide full support to the criss-cross of trenches. Radio communications were established and ammunition and water supplies checked. The troops then settled down to await the first attacks, which were not long in coming. These were small probing actions and then to the surprise of everyone the Gendarmerie commanders called a cease-fire and offered to allow a message to be sent through the lines to Battalion HQ and explain the company’s situation.

    Captain Liam Donnelly, accompanied by an NCO and a driver drove back through enemy lines to Élisabethville only to be left waiting five hours while the battalion staff entertained Conor Cruise O’Brien, head of the UN mission in Katanga. Neither the staff officers, nor O’Brien, appeared to understand the seriousness of the situation. Captain Donnelly returned to Jadotville to find the situation grimmer than ever.

    The First Attack

    The first serious attack took place on Sunday morning while most of the company were attending Mass. Gendarmeries in jeeps and on foot swarmed into the Irish positions. Corporal John Monahan, from Athlone, was returning from the wash house and spotted them. He jumped behind a Vickers machine gun and opened fire on the enemy, taking them completely by surprise. The Katangese had been led to believe that the Irish would be a pushover.  The heavy machine guns of the armoured cars opened-up and the Katangese retreated in confusion.

    From a safe distance the Katangese kept up a continuous hail of rifle and mortar fire on the Irish position, keeping the defenders pinned down and making movement during daylight hours practically impossible. While the enemy mortar crews were very professional, being mainly Belgian and French ex-soldiers, they caused few casualties as the Irish trenches were built up rather than down. The looseness of the Congo soil made it impossible to dig down, instead the loose soil was thrown up and packed high all around the trench to give protection from shrapnel.

    Not all the locals were against the Irish. An Irishman working with Union Minière estimated that there were between four and five thousand troops around the Irish unit, although Irish evaluations put them at 2,000. A Belgian woman also helped the besieged troops. Pat Dunleavey witnessed the devastating effect of the Irish firepower: ‘Paddy McManus, from Athlone, was in a trench facing a road about three-quarters of a mile long, a straight road heading in towards Jadotville, when all of a sudden a Belgian officer crossed the road about two hundred yards away, got down on his hunkers and beckoned his troops to come across. As the troops came across McManus engaged with his machine gun on the first two and then about six or seven immediately ran across the road straight into the line of fire and were killed. They were left sprawling all over the road’.

    Another veteran, Noel Stanley (then a Private), from Clara, Co. Offaly, broke up several Katangese attacks with his Bren gun: ‘I used up about 100 mags’ (thirty rounds in each) and wore out a few spare barrels’. Stanley had served a previous tour in the Congo with the 32nd Infantry Battalion. ‘When the fighting started, we never left the trenches. The only time I left them was when we moved in from the outer trenches into the houses. Father Fagan gave us general absolution while we were in the trenches. I thought he was a very brave man’.

    Siege

    For the next five days and nights Katangese attacks made life difficult for the beleaguered defenders. On 15 September alone, at least ten separate attacks, up to sixty strong, were beaten off. Occasionally during lulls in the fighting, the defenders could see bodies being dragged away by the Katangese. Exploding mortar shells from the Irish 60mm mortars destroyed a nearby garage and damaged some surrounding buildings, causing a ferocious blaze, which lit up the night sky. Irish mortar fire also hit an enemy assembly area and an ammunition dump, which sent shells whizzing in all directions to the accompaniment of hearty cheers from the defenders. The dump, which contained most of the shells for a French-made 75mm gun, blazed furiously all night long and into the next day. The 75mm could have knocked out the armoured cars and devastated the Irish positions. In its haste to deploy, A Company had left its 81mm mortars and extra rations behind. ‘Sergeant Tom Kelly was in charge of the mortars,’ Noel Stanley recalled. ‘We only had 60mm mortars. Tommy Kelly could drop a mortar round on a plate a mile away, he was that good’.

    In one attack the Katangese took a house about 150 yards from Company HQ from where they completely pinned down troops manning the forward trenches. It was essential that this enemy position was neutralised. Under covering fire an anti-tank section commanded by Corporal John Monahan raced into open ground to engage the enemy position with a 84mmm recoilless rifle. The house was completely destroyed and several Katangese killed. When the Katangese took another nearby house Private John Mannion, from Mohill, Co. Leitrim, crept down to it under cover of darkness and lobbed in a hand grenade, driving the Katangese out. Commandant Quinlan was in constant contact with the mayor of Jadotville, named Amisi, who threatened the Irish with a mob of locals. ‘They will eat you up,’ he threatened over the phone. ‘You can send them out,’ Commandant Quinlan retorted in his best Kerry accent. ‘We would probably give them indigestion.’ Commandant Quinlan regularly went out among his troops to make sure their defences were solid enough. ‘He was tough, but good,’ Noel Stanley recalled, ‘And that’s what we needed out there’.

    The company radio sets were virtually useless as most of them failed to operate accurately at such long range, but Commandant Quinlan managed to contact HQ in Élisabethville and stated that unless reinforcements arrived soon, the defenders were in grave danger of being wiped out. He was told that a relief force was on its way. This news greatly encouraged the men and raised their flagging morale.

    The Irish were not the only ones listening to the radios. The mercenaries were able to intercept the messages on their more powerful radios. There was only one point where a crossing was possible and this was at Lufira Bridge. When the Irish reinforcements, codenamed Force Kane, arrived at Lufira Bridge, on 13 September, they were met by a strong enemy force. A decision was taken to abandon the attempt to cross the bridge until the next day and Force Kane retired to bed down for the night and prepare for a dawn attack the next day. The attack did not kick off until 08.30, which lost them the element of surprise. During the night the Katangese had been busy and had moved up more troops which ensured that any attempt to force a crossing would result in heavy casualties. The rescue attempt was abandoned and Force Kane returned to Élisabethville.

    Two days later another attempt was made by the same Irish company, reinforced by a company of Gurkhas. The column arrived late due to transport problems and strafing by a Belgian piloted Fouga jet from Kolwezi, which killed three Gurkhas and wounded five. Attempts to approach the bridge were met by withering enemy fire from the reinforced Katangese, who had been informed of the UN advance by a BBC World Service report. It became apparent that a daylight attack without air support was impossible without heavy losses.

    Again, the decision was taken to abandon the rescue attempt and they reluctantly returned to Élisabethville. The Fouga jet bombed and strafed the retreating UN force, killing two and injuring ten Gurkhas. Four Irish soldiers were also wounded. With the failure of the second rescue attempt the Katangese moved up more reinforcements to Jadotville, where the situation was now becoming desperate. Water was running out and the defenders sent urgent radio messages to HQ requesting that supplies be air-dropped in.

    Around the same time a helicopter piloted by Bjørn Hovden, a Norwegian, crash-landed in the Irish position with a limited supply of food and water. It suffered severe damage and was unable to take off. The water on board was in jerry cans that had previously carried oil and was of little use to the defenders. The Fouga jet now began bombing and strafing the Irish position and urgent requests to Britain to allow UN planes to use Manono airport to relieve the beleaguered garrison were refused.

    As the fifth day of the siege dawned the situation was evidently desperate. The men had no proper sleep for five days and nights. Food and water were very scarce and the tropical heat was also taking its toll. The radio sets were beginning to fail, with only an occasional garbled message getting through. The enemy was growing extremely confident, despite suffering heavy casualties. Further low-flying attacks by the Fouga were thwarted when it was damaged by concentrated and accurate ground fire, ensuring that its bombing attacks from then on were carried out at a greater height. Pat Dunleavy recollected: ‘This jet used to come from Kolwezi airport and fly over first of all and then fly up into the sun and do a turn and start firing as it came down. He would start firing his cannons at us and he would let off two bombs every time. His whole object was to hit the filling station. Fortunately, he didn’t succeed. He would do four or five raids a day on this caper’.

    From a safe distance the Katangese kept up a continuous hail of rifle and mortar fire on the Irish position, keeping the defenders pinned down and making movement during daylight hours practically impossible

    As the Irishmen prepared for what everyone thought would be the final battle the mercenary leaders appealed to them to surrender. This offer was immediately rejected and another offer was then put forward. He stated that, ‘if the Irish would agree to a ceasefire, the Katangese would withdraw from around their positions, water supplies would be reconnected, and joint patrols from both sides would operate to maintain order in the town. If this offer was refused the Irish could expect to be overwhelmed and their safety would not be guaranteed’. Commandant Quinlan consulted with his senior commanders the options available. They now had no further communication with the outside world, and had little hope of escape or rescue; ammunition supplies were low; supplies of food and water were practically gone and the men were exhausted.

    Ceasefire and Surrender

    On 16 September, Commandant Quinlan reluctantly agreed to the Katangese cease-fire terms. After destroying all documentation and rendering their heavy weapons unserviceable A Company moved to a hotel in Jadotville, housing their weapons elsewhere. The attitude of the Belgian paratroopers and French mercenaries was surprisingly friendly. Many of them complimented the Irish on their bravery and the tenacity of their defence. However, the native Katangese, who had suffered heavy casualties, were far more hostile. The arrival of Minister Munongo and more Katangese troops from Élisabethville changed the situation. Only small quantities of food and water were delivered to the Irish and it came as no surprise when several days later the Katangese broke their agreement.

    A large force of Katangese, who confiscated all of A Company’s arms, surrounded the compound. Effectively the Irish were now prisoners of war. The mercenaries firmly believed that the Irish had suffered heavy casualties and they asked Quinlan how they had disposed of the bodies. They flatly refused to believe that no Irish soldiers had been killed and only four had been wounded. Enemy casualties had been heavy. One estimate revealed that 30 European mercenaries had died as that number of coffins had been buried and only whites justified coffins, and that 150- 300 Katangese had been killed and several hundred more injured. Pat Dunleavy said: ‘We were taken into the town of Élisabethville under guard and compounded in a hotel there. We were very well treated in the hotel regards food and accommodation, but we were subjected to a lot of searches and if any parts of ammunition or weaponry, was found on us we were harshly dealt with. I remember three or four of our people who had still ammunition on them were severely beaten. Arrangements were made for a swap of prisoners. We were brought to a camp between Élisabethville and Jadotville, on a lake, in buses with a heavy escort. When we arrived in this camp it was deplorable. The hostility that we received from the soldiers’ wives was very, very frightening. They threatened us with signs of cutting our heads off, cutting parts of our bodies off, stuffing them in our mouths, etc… Needless, to say this surrender did not take place and we were brought back to the hotel again. This went on three times in succession. We agreed a plan that on the third and final attempt ― if it failed ― we were to disarm the troops in the bus, shoot the troops in the bus in front of us and make a breakthrough back to Élisabethville. Fortunately, this did not have to happen as we were brought to a disused airport on the outskirts of Élisabethville where the official hand-over took place’.

    As negotiated the radio station and the Post Office seized by the UN would be handed back in exchange for 185 prisoners held by the Katangese. A Company returned to Ireland on 22 December, and received a huge and enthusiastic reception in Athlone. Commandant Quinlan’s men have the highest regard for him and his reputation. According to Pat Dunleavey, ‘Pat was really great and we owe a lot of gratitude to him. Unfortunately, he was not given the recognition for what he did in overwhelming odds. We put up such a fight’.

    Forty-four years after the event the veterans of Jadotville were honoured at a ceremony at Custume Barracks in Athlone.

    James Durney is Co. Kildare Historian in Residence and author of many books including the bestselling The 100 Kilo Case. The true story of an Irish ex-NYPD detective protected by the Mafia, and one of the most infamous drug busts in New York City.

    Read more on James Durney at: www.jamesdurney.com

    Letter to the Editor Spring 2017

    Dear Sir
    I want to bring to your attention an error in the caption on page 14, article: In Defence Of Peace, Winter 2016. The caption states that the photo was taken at Jadotville. I think this photograph was not taken in Jadotville for the following reasons:

    1. The building in the background was Headquarters for the 35th Infantry Battalion, and later the 36th Infantry Battalion, at Leopold Farm,
      Élisabethville.
    2. In this photograph, the armoured cars are painted green. This did not happen until after the ceasefire in September 1961, to make them less conspicuous, which was when the Jadotville action took place. When the cars arrived in the Congo with the 34th Infantry Battalion, they were painted white. I was on a detachment that travelled by air from Élisabethville to Kamina, to bring a couple of cars just arrived in the Congo, to Élisabethville by train. They were painted. This journey of 500 miles took 3 days and nights through mostly jungle. Therefore, the two cars at Jadotville were still white at the time of the engagement.
    3. The officer in the photograph may or may not be Quinlan, it is very hard to tell.
    4. The helmet the gunner in the armoured car is wearing was worn by the 36th Infantry Battalion members and was not available to members of the 35th.

    Yours sincerely
    John O’Mahony, Former Trooper, Armoured Car Group, 35th Infantry Battalion

  • MEMOIRS OF A PEACEKEEPER – CoY SGt Henry ‘Harry’ Mulhern (Retd)

    MEMOIRS OF A PEACEKEEPER

    A Tour of Duty with 49th Infantry Battalion UNIFIL

    Company Sergeant Henry ‘Harry’ Mulhern (Retd) tells his story

    Published in Winter 2015

    The Irish Defence Forces peacekeeping role in South Lebanon is renowned throughout the world for its professionalism and bravery. At times under harrowing conditions the Irish peacekeepers have helped bring stability to a war-torn region. The first Irish infantry battalion (43rd Infantry Battalion) deployed to South Lebanon serving with the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL) in May 1978. The following are the personal accounts of Harry Mulhern in South Lebanon in the period March-November 1981 while serving with the 49th Infantry Battalion UNIFIL. They represent a window into the work of Irish peacekeepers working thousands of miles from home in the cause of peace at a time when communication home was no more than newspapers and letters from family. At the time Harry was a Company Sergeant with 2nd Garrison Supply & Transport Company in Mckee Barracks. Aged 35, Harry had previously served twice with the United Nations (UN) in Cyprus.

    The Last Day in Before Deployment

    On 27 April 1981, at Cathal Brugha Barracks, Rathmines, Dublin, the second contingent of the 49th Infantry Battalion were preparing for departure to South Lebanon. This last day of departure would be the culmination after weeks of preparation and training. It involved bringing together hundreds of soldiers from barracks around the country to form a single unit, all of them volunteers. By the time of departure, the soldiers, who would be working closely together for the duration of the six-month tour were well acquainted, had formed a bond and were ready for the challenges ahead. This last day would be filled with mixed emotions. Some of the personnel were seasoned travellers, having served a number of tours previously in Lebanon and elsewhere.

    Company Sergeant Henry ‘Harry’
    Mulhern,

    ‘The replacement of a Battalion or Infantry Group overseas is processed in three stages known as Chalks to allow for familiarisation and adaptation. This final day of preparation was a busy one for the administrative and operational supervisory staff. One of their priorities was to ensure that everyone due to leave presented themselves and final preparations were made for transport to Dublin Airport. Those reporting for travel came from every corner of the country having made their farewells to family and friends. Kit and baggage were already at the airport and loaded’.

    As the peacekeepers went through their final preparations, reports came in to Army Headquarters of a serious incident in the Irish Area of Operations (AO) in South Lebanon, with casualties involved. It did not take long for this news to filter down to the awaiting peacekeepers in Cathal Brugha.

    Later in the evening verification came that the incident in Lebanon earlier in the day involved a shooting and abduction of Irish personnel. ‘The casualty, a young soldier from Chalk One of our battalion was dead. This was shocking information. The young soldier who died was less than two weeks into his tour of duty. All of this information would have been included on evening news bulletins with names withheld. In 1981 there were no mobile phones and anxious families around the country started ringing military barracks asking questions following the public release of the report. A sombre cloud descended over all at Cathal Brugha Barracks’.

    A religious service was held in the Barrack Chapel. It was customary and traditional; on this occasion it was attended by the overwhelming majority of those leaving and was particularly poignant. It was later confirmed that Saighdiúr Singil Caomhán Seoighe (Kevin Joyce, 48th Infantry Battalion) and Private Hugh Doherty who had only arrived with Chalk One, had been attacked at their Observation Post (OP) and abducted. Doherty was later confirmed killed. Seogihe was never found.

    Despite the bad news the morale among the troops still held well. There was no question of people deciding not to go. That night all of the men enjoyed a final drink and sing along in the various mess bars and a good Irish steak.

    ‘A separate building in the airport was used in those times for military departures and with only those travelling present it was a quiet farewell to homeland. However, as we walked to the aircraft a group of women shouted and cheered through a side entrance, heart-warming stuff it was. We learned afterwards they were airport staff. We flew throughout the night into the early dawn and were well tended to during the flight by staff of Aer Lingus’.

    Lebanon or Israel?

    Originally due to land in Beirut, the flight had to be diverted to Tel Aviv, Israel. ‘We landed there safely and disembarked in beautiful sunshine. Officials kept us away from airport buildings while we waited for the transport convoy to Lebanon and the AO for the Irish Battalion. On the airport campus at Tel Aviv everyone was armed, military, civilian police and civilian airport workers. It was noticed that we still wore black berets and these had to be removed quickly as they resembled those worn by elements in the Middle East who were not friendly towards the Israelis’.

    In the early evening, the Irish peacekeepers departed for the Israeli/Lebanon border. There were long delays at the Naqoura crossing into Lebanon while diplomatic negotiations took place and the Israelis satisfied themselves that the Irish were indeed who they claimed to be. UNIFIL HQ was situated at Naqoura.

    ‘In the end they relented and we crossed into Lebanon where a heavily armed escort awaited. The final part of the journey was via a rural climbing landscape toward South Lebanon. Arriving late after dark, we were quietly welcomed by our comrades in position there. The atmosphere was sombre and tense, but by that time we were very tired and ready for sleep’.

    This was the beginning of Harry Mulhern’s six-month tour of duty.

    Valley of Total and the Transport Element

    At that time, the main Irish base was at Camp Shamrock on the outskirts of the village of Tibnin. The Irish Battalion was structured into HQ Company, three infantry companies (A, B and C), and an armoured Force Mobile Reserve (FMR). Peacekeepers rotated from this camp to outlying OPs. Camp Shamrock was well laid out with modern dining facilities, sleeping quarters, and showers. The area of Tibnin had its beauty and charm and the local people were warm toward anything Irish. The Irish peacekeepers were well respected as they watched over areas which were volatile and liable to flare up at any moment; the local and background knowledge they possessed; and the ability to communicate anticipated trouble all helped to prevent incursions into the area by armed factions.  

    Harry was based at the Valley of Total, the base of the Transport Element of the Irish Battalion and the Fuel Supply Depot for the entire UN force in Lebanon. The Valley at Total was situated about one kilometre from Camp Shamrock and the village of Tibnin. There was a petrol station with one resident family. The garage attached to the petrol station was used as workshops and technical stores by the transport element of the battalion. It was side-of-the- road operations with little facilities.

    ‘We had a fleet of very old American M50 and M35 Trucks, three Cherokee Jeeps, three water tankers, a couple of run arounds and a recovery vehicle. All of the vehicles (with the exception of the Cherokees) were old and in need of replacement. Conditions for the mechanics were very basic with major repairs and parts replacements taking place at the side-of-the-road and under very hot or very cold conditions depending on the time of year’.

    Harry with members of the 49th Infantry Battalion’s Transport Element

    The best-known vehicle and one of the most important for the Irish battalion logistically, was the MAM Diesel – a heavy duty tractor unit with two refrigerated containers. The MAM travelled daily to the Israeli border collecting supplies for the battalion. With a heavily armed escort it would travel daily out of the Battalion AO to Naqoura on the Israeli Border. This journey involved passing through territory, towns and villages under the control of the various armed elements including the Peoples Liberation Organization and Phalangists (members of the Kataeb party originally a Maronite paramilitary youth organisation). The Transport Element also operated a fuel supply service for all of UNIFIL.

    ‘Overseas the role of senior NCO has more responsibilities for example: maintaining the discipline and morale in far more difficult conditions than at home, keeping close contact with all of the men and dealing with any issues they might have in a supportive way. We lived in three prefab buildings; a primitive shower had been built and a television had been bought. There was nowhere to go in a mission area such as this apart from the danger of leaving the camp area, so you had to make your own entertainment. Weapons were always near at hand. Drivers carried loaded weapons at all times’.

    The Dangers of the Job

    Mid-summer, high in the mountains of South Lebanon, brought with it very high temperatures. The evenings though because of the altitude brought cooler conditions. In the Valley of Total those cool summer evenings brought welcome relief. ‘In the course of one of those evenings I was alerted by screams and shouting coming from the vicinity of the fuel supply area’. The Irish Transport Group held bulk stocks of petrol and diesel fuel and were the supply source for the various contingents of troops serving there at the time. Two underground tanks held in the vicinity of 9,000 litres of fuel. On this evening a Dutch military fuel tanker was loading fuel. It was pumped through an extending arm from source by an electrical pump. ‘

    ‘This pump had to be primed before use and was poor side-of-the-road technology. The Dutch driver was having trouble with the pump. It had stopped halfway through the fill. Trying to restart it he was joined by the Irish Petrol, Oil and Lubricants Sergeant, Paddy Denton, who was returning with a supply convoy from Naqoura. Paddy, familiar with the apparatus, set about re-priming the pump when it suddenly exploded covering him and the Dutch driver with burning fuel. A building which served as an office for the fuel Supply Staff quickly also caught fire’.

    Harry and the Transport Element at Total

    The bulk of the Irish transport personnel who were within shouting distance in the nearby football field heard the commotion and came running. At this time, the pump was ablaze and also part of the feed pipe to the tanker. It was a potentially serious and dangerous situation.

    ‘I had summoned help through the Battalion Operations Room (Sergeant Dave Abbott) who acted immediately. With the exception of three NCOs and myself all of the personnel were sent out of the danger area. Two of these NCOs, Sergeant Tom Flynn and Corporal Pat Looney ran towards the fire. While Sergeant Flynn mounted the vehicle, Corporal Looney ran to the end of the feed pipe (which was at this time on fire) and with heroic courage disconnected it from the tanker. Not having a normal ignition and start control Sergeant Flynn had some difficulty starting the vehicle. But in due course he succeeded and managed to move the vehicle out of the danger area. A third NCO, Sergeant Jim Burns stopped a passing armoured vehicle and loaded the injured aboard. By coincidence this vehicle was also Dutch’.

    The injured were brought to the Irish Medical Facility at Tibnin. Sergeant Denton had serious burn injuries to his upper body while the Dutch driver had significant but less serious injuries. A nearby Norwegian camp had a Fire Engine which was dispatched to the scene. It brought the fire under control before it could endanger the main fuel storage site. If the peacekeepers had lost control of the fire the outcome for the valley and the nearby village would have been grave.

    The events of that evening were one of many life-threatening situations encountered regularly on active duty in South Lebanon. But this critical situation was met with calmness and professionalism and in the case of Sergeant Flynn and Corporal Looney, with great courage and heroism. Commendations for the actions on the night by the NCOs who remained at the scene were received from the Commander of the Dutch Contingent and of course, the Irish Commander who received the personnel and personally congratulated them.

    ‘For the Irish Commander it was a relief, that rapid and decisive effective actions prevented a more serious outcome. This battalion had already incurred casualties in the course of the tour’.

    Incidents an incursions

    There were incidents and incursions on a daily basis during that period of UNIFIL. The effects of the 1978 Israeli invasion still lingered and tensions remained high across the border. Lebanon’s Civil War continued. As a result of both UNIFIL personnel regularly got caught in the middle of firefights, shellings, mines, and roadside bombs.

    ‘There were regular casualties as a result of these incursions. I remember the Fijian Battalion suffering more than most.  But the list of Irish casualties is a long one. At night we witnessed Israeli jets attacking targets in surrounding villages. Drones overhead gathering intelligence was a daily occurrence. On the coast Israeli gunboats would appear on the horizon to shell coastal towns and villages. The ancient city of Tyre suffered from these attacks because of its coastal location. I witnessed one of those attacks from the sea myself.

    Two members of the Irish Battalion attached to UNIFIL in a village close to Battalion Headquarters, Tibnin. May 1st, (UN Photo Archive/John Isaac)

    On one occasion three officers returning to the battalion area from Naqoura were attacked while travelling through the village of Qana. They came under fire from militia and two of the officers took cover while the third and most senior, Commandant Tony Egar, approached the militia trying to calm the situation. The armed element had just taken a casualty from another UN contingent and wanted revenge. A rocket was fired in the direction of Commandant Egar. It missed him and demolished a nearby house.  The Commandant tried to speak to them in French. The militia beat him with iron clubs. Eventually an older and senior member of the militia group appeared and stopped the attack.

    On another occasion two drivers travelling in a water truck were attacked by an armed man who jumped onto the running board of the truck and attempted to fire into the cab. They only escaped by driving through a barrier into the camp of another contingent. When they returned to Total the indents of the bullets fired could be seen in the rear of the truck’.

    The battalion suffered one more fatality after a driver from C Company was killed in a road accident.

    A visit by Minister James Tully TD

    During mid-Autumn the 49th Infantry Battalion received a visit from the Minister for Defence, James Tully TD. He was due to visit both Camp Shamrock and several of the outlining posts including Valley of Total. A major clean-up of the area was initiated and the men prepared their best uniforms, boots and weapons for inspection. 

    There was already some excitement among the Transport Group as one of their comrades (a young newly married man) had just received a communication that his wife had delivered their first child.

    ‘The lad was in a very emotional state and arrangements were being put in place for him to speak with his young wife by radio. (No mobile phones or Internet in those days) apart from letters it was total isolation from all matters to do with home for the duration of the tour. Visitors from home were, in those circumstances, very welcome.

    There was one local family living at Total, who looked after the small commercial petrol station located there. They were requested to stay away from the inspection area for the duration of the minister’s visit and readily agreed’.

    The Minister duly arrived around midday and was invited to inspect the assembled troops and accommodation. ‘As he walked through the troops, he stopped occasionally to speak to one of them.  “Is everything going well, can I do anything for you”? The answer invariably was ‘yes Sir everything is fine’. That is until he reached the young man who had just become a father who answered: “My wife and I just had a baby, could you get us a house”. A great silence descended on those assembled as the Minister looked to the senior officer accompanying him who also looked to his junior. However, the surprise only lasted seconds and the Minister smiled at the man saying, “I will see you before I leave the area and we’ll talk.” A sigh of relief all round and the visit proceeded’.

    This, however, was not the only surprise as the Minister prepared to leave one of the children of the family living at Total suddenly appeared. Dressed in her Sunday best she presented the visitor with flowers saying “my father and mother have prepared something for you upstairs” Again the Minister smiled and proceeded up the stairs to the balcony of the house. For security reasons these situations are avoided in the AO but in this instance the Minister agreed. Upstairs on the balcony he was presented to the whole and extended family, who were quietly slipped in earlier in the day. A feast of local Lebanese food and drink combined with the warmest of welcomes. It was a great coup for the family and the whole village would be impressed. Of the photographic record of the visit, this reception would add a pleasant memory’.

    After the Minister Tully’s visit to Lebanon, he continued to other arranged destinations and cultural visits in the Middle East. In that capacity he travelled to Cairo as Ireland’s representative in Egypt’s annual October 6th military victory parade. While in the reviewing stand, next to President Anwar Sadat, Minister Tully suffered a shrapnel injury to his face after Sadat was assassinated by members of the Egyptian Islamic Jihad who had infiltrated the Egyptian Army.

    ‘It was and is a very complicated area of conflict. The role of the UN peacekeepers is to keep the peace and maintain as far as possible a tolerable life for the population while politicians and diplomats try to make the permanent peace. The Irish are committed to this role’.

    Company Sergeant Henry ‘Harry’ Mulhern (on right) pictured at this years Michael Collins commemoration at Cathal Brugha Barracks. Harry is pictured with Eddie Burke and the 2nd Field Artillery Regiment Association mascot Corporal Kealagh.

    Harry returned home safely at the end of his tour. He retired from the Defence Forces in 1986 after 24 years service. To this day Irish peacekeepers still serve with UNIFIL in South Lebanon. You can read more about 2nd Garrison Company and stories about its members on: www. friendsofgarrison.com

  • A JILDY SOLDIER – Pte Patsy O’Neill

    A JILDY SOLDIER – Pte Patsy O’Neill

    Patrick ‘Patsy’ O’Neill, 2015. (Photo by his daughter Maureen O’Neill)

    A JILDY SOLDIER

    Interview with Emergency veteran Patsy O’Neill

    By Wesley Bourke

    Published in Winter 2015

    Over our first four issues we have been fortunate enough to have been able to bring you the harrowing eyewitness accounts of several veterans who took part in World War II. Recent months have remembered the sacrifice made during the Battle of Britain in which Irish aviators played their part. At this time, we should also remember that 75 years ago, while war raged around the world, Ireland declared a State of Emergency. This resulted in a massive expansion of the small Irish Defence Forces which prepared to defend the island from a looming invasion. There are still veterans from this time in Ireland still alive today. Their service should also be remembered. It is only when a grandparent passes away that we realise the stories we grew up listening to will never be told again. This editor is fortunate to have one grandparent left alive; this is his Emergency story.

    Emergency is Declared

    Patrick ‘Patsy’ O’Neil from Glebe House, Crumlin Village, Dublin, was born on 1 August 1921. Patsy has seen many changes in Ireland from the early days of the Free State, the birth of a Republic, and on to the Celtic Tiger. In Ireland the war period was known as the Emergency; a State of Emergency was proclaimed by Dáil Éireann on 2 September 1939, allowing the passage of the Emergency Powers Act 1939 by the Oireachtas the following day. It allowed for measures such as censorship and internment.

    Remaining neutral, Ireland braced itself for war. Money and equipment was scarce. Food, fuel, tea, cigarettes were all rationed. Turf battalions were formed to make sure homes, schools, and hospitals remained heated in urban areas. Air-Raid wardens patrolled the streets at night enforcing a black out. The worst outcome was prepared for with gas masks being issued to the general public.  Patsy recollected:

    ‘At the outbreak of the war I was studying carpentry in Bolton Street College. There was much talk of the war in Europe. As German armies moved east and west nobody knew whether Ireland would join the Allied powers or wait and see if the Germans would come over to us’.

    On the outbreak of World War II Patsy joined the rapidly expanding Irish Army At the wars’ outbreak the Irish Defence Forces (at the time consisting of the Army, Air Corps and the newly formed Marine and Coastwatching Service) was small in size. The regular Army only numbered 5,915 regulars and 14,470 in the reserve. By 1943 the Defence Forces reached a peak of 56,000 regulars while a reorganised reserve, known as the Local Defence Force (LDF) numbered 106,000. Volunteers like Patsy were known as E-men (Emergency men) or Durationers (those who had enlisted for the duration of hostilities). A private soldier received fourteen shillings a week less ten pence deduction for laundry and haircutting.

    Patsy Enlists and life in the Curragh Camp

    With this expansion, the Army was reformed into two divisions and two independent brigades. The 1st Division, under Major General M.J. Costello, had its headquarters in Cork while the 2nd Division, under Major General Hugo McNeill, had its headquarters in Carton House, Maynooth, Co. Kildare. The independent 5th and 8th Brigades were based in the Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare and in Rineanna (today Shannon Airport) Co. Clare, respectively. Patsy joined C Company 25th Infantry Battalion, 5th Brigade. The Curragh Camp, which is still a military base today, is a large military camp south of Naas beside Newbridge and Kildare towns. Its common plains are well known for horses and sheep. For a Crumlin man, Naas (a large town in North Kildare) was considered the frontier.

    “As German armies moved east and west nobody knew whether Ireland would join the Allied powers or wait and see if the Germans would come over to us.”

    ‘Sheep shit and soldiers are what I remember about the Curragh Camp. The only nice thing about it was the trees as you drove in. There was no doubt about it; training was hard. We were expecting war. We enjoyed it all the same. There was camaraderie amongst everyone. We were issued with the British pattern uniform, helmet and forage cap. We had another name for the forage cap which I won’t repeat. You’ll see pictures of other Irish soldiers wearing a German style uniform. This was the Vickers helmet that had been issued back in the 30’s along with a German style uniform. No wonder some pilots that crashed here got confused. You made friends with men like 62 Sanders. We called them by their last name and their army number. The Curragh had a picture house and the units put on shows and sporting competitions to help pass the time. We were issued the Lee Enfield .303” rifle. Lovely weapon. The drill on this rifle was really impressive. I remember it clearly. On parade was the best “Fastuigh –Beaignill” (the Irish command for Fix Bayonets). When you saw a whole battalion doing that movement together in one motion it was an amazing sight. We were very Jildy’. (Jildy was a slang term at the time for good appearance)

    With the rapid expansion the Defence Force ordered new armoured vehicles, weapons, aircraft, and patrol boats from abroad. With the war on, the numbers required did not reach Ireland. To augment its arsenal, the military modified truck chassis’, such as Ford and Dodge, and turned them into armoured cars. For the infantryman many of the weapons still in use were of a World War I vintage.

    Pictured on left, Private Patrick ‘Patsy’ O’Neill, C Company 25th Infantry Battalion, on guard in the Curragh Camp circa 1941. (Image courtesy of family)

    ‘The Enfield was my favourite. They weren’t all in good condition as some were old and had to have repair work done. Ten-round black magazine and one up the breech. One of my proudest days was being awarded the marksmanship badge. With the Enfield you didn’t pull the trigger, you squeezed it gently. I also did a course on the Lewis and Vickers machine guns. With these machine guns; like today, you had to have a crew. The Lewis was on a bipod and had a round magazine whereas the Vickers was on a tripod and was belt fed. They were impressive weapons to use’.

    25th Infantry Battalion was mainly tasked with guarding K-lines and Tintown. These were the camps where the Allied, Axis and Irish Republican Army (IRA) internees were kept during the Emergency period. Ireland of course was neutral so any Allied or Axis sailors or aviators that happened to crash or end up on Irish soil were interned. Over the course of the war some 170 aircraft crashed or force landed on Irish territory. Along with the surviving aircrew sailors such as the 164 German seamen rescued by the MV Kerlogue in the Bay of Biscay found themselves in the Curragh.

    ‘In the camps all the sentry posts were elevated. So you would have full view of your section of the camp you were guarding. There were two men in each box. Nine boxes in total. A guard house on the gate. There were also PAs (Poliní Airm the Irish for Military Police) knocking about which you had to watch out for. It was very monotonous. You got very tired both physically and mentally doing this day in day out. The guard commander used to do spot checks on us to see if we had fallen asleep. Two hours on four hours off. One thing all prisoners had in common was giving you the sign for a cigarette. We knew it as getting a fix. A friend might say ‘give us a fix’ and it would break your heart to break a cigarette in two’.

    There was a big difference between the Allied, Axis and IRA internees.

    ‘We rotated around the German, Allied and IRA camps. Now there was a different arrangement for the different prisoners. The Germans and Allies used to get day passes and as the war went on some even got jobs in the local areas in Kildare town, Newbridge or Kilcullen. The Germans were an intimidating bunch. I remember one time escorting a German officer down to the Military Hospital. I was ordered not to let him out of my sight. Now I was only 5,4”, looking up at him he didn’t look too impressed’.

    The IRA on the other hand was locked up 24/7 and did not have the same privileges as the Allied and Axis internees. ‘They did terrible things back then and the government were determined not to let them get up to anything while the war was on. In saying that the IRA was always trying to tunnel out of their camp. There were some very ingenious engineers in their ranks. We’d watch them for days and weeks digging away and then catch them just before they finished it. It kept them busy and we were amused so we didn’t mind. One or two did manage to slip past us though’.

    Nowadays the Curragh Camp is only 40 odd minutes in a car from Crumlin on the motorway. Back then it took a little bit longer. As the war continued however leave home for soldiers even in the neutral Irish Army was not very frequent.

    ‘For the most part we didn’t get much leave. It all depended on how the war was going in Europe. My sisters came up a few times to Newbridge on the bus. I would go and meet them and they’d bring some food or a clean shirt. If they brought food this was the best. The food in camp was terrible. I remember the Company Quartermaster Sergeant counting out three potatoes that were black. That was dinner. We lived off loaves of bread, butter and jam. The canteen in the camp sold everything for a penny. A bun and a cup of tea or a piece of Gurcake. Now if you had 2pence you could get a Wad; this was a big cake with cream in the middle’.

    Ireland may have been neutral but this did not prevent both military and civilians suffering fatalities and injury. During the Blitz in Britain, on several occasions; German Luftwaffe bombers mistakenly ended up in Irish airspace and jettisoned their payload. Bombs fell on Borris in Carlow, Wexford, Dublin, and the Curragh. In Borris three people were killed. The worst raid came on the night of 30/31 May 1941, on Dublin’s Northside. Thirty-eight people lost their lives and seventy houses were destroyed on Summerhill Parade, North Strand and the North Circular Road.

    ‘One sad story I remember from 1941 was when we were all playing football one day and got the call to report to the hospital to give blood. There had been a training accident in the Glen of Imaal in Wicklow. 16 lads had been killed. When the bodies came in, we had to carry in the bodies. There was blood all over the truck. We all got a reality check that day’.

    ‘The Blackwater Manoeuvres

    For most of the Emergency, C Company 25th Infantry Battalion was stationed in the Curragh. However, it regularly took part in exercises outside of their area. Taking the young men to parts of the country they had never heard of or been to. Cork, the Blackwater River, Castle Annagh Camp New Ross, Abbeyleix, Bawnjames. The exercises took part around potential scenarios Ireland may face in case of an invasion. In the early days of the Emergency nobody knew if invasion would come from the Germans in order to gain a backdoor into the United Kingdom or from the British who with the Battle of the Atlantic, had their eyes on Ireland’s strategic ports.

    ‘In the summer of 1942 we took part in several big manoeuvres. Now we marched everywhere back then. There wasn’t enough transport anyway. Our objective was to cross the Blackwater River. The march down took us through places we’d never heard of or been. We were regularly allowed bivouac in old estates like Silversprings House Piltown, Co. Kilkenny. That was in July. We then went on to Wexford where we stayed in a camp in Bawnjames. We didn’t mind marching through the countryside. It got us out of the Curragh and away from guarding prisoners and out soldiering. We could buy things like good food off the locals and the girls were always very pleasant to us’.

    Members of 25th Infantry Battalion taking a break from manoeuvres at Silversprings House, Pilltown, Co. Kilkenny, 25 July 1942. Patsy is seen in the centre row second on the left with a cocked helmet. (Image courtesy of Irish Military Archives. Image colourised by John O’Byrne)

    The Blackwater Exercise in 1942 involved elements from all the commands in Ireland. The 2nd Division, along with elements from 5th Brigade, moved south to attack the 1st Division in based in the Munster region. One of the largest obstacles in their way was the Blackwater River; a natural defensive barrier around Cork City. They remain the largest military exercises the Irish State has ever conducted.

    ‘The Blackwater manoeuvres took place in August and September of 1942. We had to cross the Blackwater River with full battle dress. Most lads couldn’t swim so we had to form human chains. The current would try and grab your legs. Sometimes a chain would break upstream and lads would come drifting down and we’d have to catch them. We didn’t catch them all’.

    Crossing the Blackwater. (Image courtesy of Military Archives. Colourised by John O’Byrne)

    The exercise was followed by the largest-ever military parade which was held in Ireland in Cork City on 13 September.

    Patsy’s Emergency Medal.

    As the war raged on around the world the Axis powers began retreating. An invasion of Ireland became less and less likely. The Defence Forces were still on high alert. German U-Boat activity off the coast was monitored, rationing and blackouts continued. For the Army, training was maintained and those Allied and Axis aircrews and mariners that still managed to end up in Ireland had to be rounded up and interned. Internment continued until the end of the war, but bit by bit the Allied personnel were allowed drift off either making their way to Northern Ireland or catching a boat from Dublin bound for Britain. The internees had nowhere to go even if they wanted to. 

    End of the Emergency and Demobilisation

    By 1945 the war in Europe was coming to a close. Although the Emergency in Ireland continued until 1946 the Defence Forces began to scale down.

    ‘Near the end of the war I was given indefinite leave to finish my apprenticeship. My Commanding Officer called me in and explained because the war was winding down I was approved to go finish my trade so I would have it finished for when I was discharged. Now I had just completed my NCO’s course and I wanted to get my corporals stripes. With demobilisation looming there was no need for any more corporals. Alas back up to Dublin I went to finish my studies on full pay. I was lucky to get such an opportunity. I reported back to the Curragh 18 months later for demobilisation. Battalion after battalion was paraded and stood down. I was handed my discharge papers and the offer of a Martin Henry suit. I took two shirts, two trousers and a pair of boots instead for work. I never got to find out whether I passed my NCO’s course or not. Everyone was being demobilised. For our service we were awarded the Emergency Medal and the Taoiseach, Éamon de Valera, gave us a 100 pound. That was it, the Emergency was over’.

    Patsy still lives in his home in Walkinstown, Dublin, aged 94.

    This article first appeared in An Cosantóir – the Irish Defence Forces magazine in February 2012.

  • TEN DAYS IN ÉLISABETHVILLE – Interview with CQMS Jimmy Clarke

    TEN DAYS IN ÉLISABETHVILLE – Interview with CQMS Jimmy Clarke

    TEN DAYS IN ÉLISABETHVILLE

    Irish Peacekeepers on the Offensive

    Interview with Congo Veteran CQMS Jimmy Clarke (Retd)

    First published in Spring issue 2015.

    (Archive images and photos courtesy of Irish Defence Forces Military Archives and A Company Association.)

    Anyone familiar with the Irish Defence Forces United Nations (UN) service in the Congo during the 1960’s will be familiar with A Company, 36th Infantry Battalion and the Battle of the Tunnel. For ten days in December 1961, the 166 soldiers of A Company were thrown into a war none of them would ever forget. The battle would cost the unit 4 killed and 15 wounded. For their actions that day 14 Distinguished Service Medals (DSM) would be awarded, making A Company the highest decorated company in the Irish Defence Forces. A veteran of the battle, Company Sergeant Quartermaster Jimmy Clarke (CQMS) gives us this eyewitness account.

    After nearly 100 years under Belgian rule the Republic of Congo gained its independence on 30 June 1960. Almost immediately the country fell into chaos. With Belgian support, two states, the mineral rich Katanga and South Kasai, seceded. Moïse Tshombé was declared prime minister of Katanga. The UN established Opération des Nations unies au Congo (ONUC) under UN Security Council Resolution 143 on 14 July, and soon after a peacekeeping force was deployed. One of the countries to volunteer peacekeepers was Ireland. Irish Defence Forces’ Lieutenant General Seán MacEoin DSM, was appointed Force Commander of ONUC on 1 January 1961, serving in that appointment until  29 March 1962.

    CQMS Jimmy Clarke proudly wearing his medals. Jimmy is a member of the Sergeant Paddy Mulcahy, DSM, Branch Organisation of National Ex-Servicemen and Women. (Photo by Billy Galligan)

    Jimmy joined the Irish Defence Forces in 1959. After initial training with the 7th Infantry Battalion in Collins Barracks, Dublin, he went on to serve with 2nd Garrison Supply and Transport Company in Mckee Barracks. ‘When I volunteered for UN service in 1961 Ireland had already deployed four infantry battalions to the Congo; starting with the 32nd Infantry Battalion. The newspapers were full of stories about the Irish peacekeepers. Soldiers coming home filled the barracks with tales of Africa and what it was like out there. The Niemba Ambush, which cost the lives of nine Irish soldiers, and the Siege of Jadotville, where a whole company had held out for a week before surrendering, was in all our minds. I volunteered’.

    A map showing the Congo in the heart of Africa.

    “It was pitch black and pouring rain. You didn’t know where you where. The rains had filled the trenches with mud and water. It wasn’t long before we heard the ping of small arms over our heads.”

    In November 1961 the 36th Infantry Battalion formed up for deployment to the Congo. After tactical training in the Glen of Imaal the battalion was reviewed by the then Taoiseach, Seán Lemass, TD, in McKee Barracks on 4 December. Transported by United States Air Force Globemasters, the Irish found themselves in the heart of Africa two days later. Little did they know what lay ahead.

    ‘Most of us had never been outside of Dublin, let alone on a plane. No in-flight movies back then. The Globemaster was a big plane. Two tiers of soldiers with cargo in the middle. For the flight we were given a carton of milk, a sandwich, an apple and an orange’

    The first stop for the peacekeepers came after being ten hours airborne. Landing at Wheelus Air Force Base in Tripoli, Libya where they were provided with a welcome meal and a stretch. Then back in the air, flying across the Sahara Desert to Kano, Nigeria and then onto the Congolese capital Léopoldville (today known as Kinshasa). After being transported to the infamous Martini Transit Camp the peacekeepers were introduced to the common enemy – the dreaded mosquitoes. ‘We were eaten alive’. The 36th Infantry Battalion was originally meant to be deployed to area of Albertville and Nyunzu in the North East.

    ‘We were not long after arriving in the transit camp when a full muster parade was called. No exceptions. We were informed our destination had been changed to Élisabethville. The situation there had dramatically changed. We were told to expect warlike conditions. Still taking this in, our Chaplains came out on parade. Reverend Fathers Cyril Crean, (Head Chaplin to the Forces), and Colm Matthews. They imparted Absolution on the entire battalion. You can only imagine what most of us thought to ourselves’.

    In an instant their mission had changed from peacekeeping to peace-enforcement.

    Élisabethville was another long flight. Some 1,200 miles away. Waiting in the city was the 35th Infantry Battalion whose tour of duty had run over and they were eager to return home. Approaching Élisabethville in darkness and torrential rain the planes came under fire. ‘The plane ahead of us had two engines knocked out and two fuel tanks punctured. By some miracle no one on that plane was injured. Thankfully my plane was not hit at all. When we landed the crowd crews were frantic. There was fuel everywhere from the punctured fuel tanks on the first plane. We were wearing hobnailed boots and there was a fear our boots would spark and ignite the fuel. Fearing an inferno we double quick timed out of there’.

    There was no rest for the peacekeepers at the airfield. They were loaded onto trucks and transported to the 35th Infantry Battalion positions. ‘It was pitch black and pouring rain. You didn’t know where you where. The rains had filled the trenches with mud and water. It wasn’t long before we heard the ping of small arms over our heads’.

     

    A view from the Tunnel.

    Facing the UN force around Élisabethville were well equipped and trained mercenaries and Katanganese Gendarmes. Holding key strategic positions the Katanga forces gave the peacekeepers no rest and rained small arms and mortar fire on the UN positions around the clock. For the next ten days it never stopped.

    ‘I was part of the company Transport Section. Along with Dan McGivern and Pat ‘Chalkie’ White. We operated behind the front lines conveying food and supplies to the forward positions and casualties to the Medical Aid Centre at Leopold Farm. We carried out these duties under great danger. At times under heavy mortar and sniper fire’

    The Irishmen were only in their positions two days when they lost their first comrade. 18 year old Corporal Mick Fallon was killed by a mortar on 8 December. Over the next few days the Irish pushed out their lines and consolidated their positions taking objectives such as Liege Crossroads. At Liege the Irish came under heavy fire for four days solid. ‘I can recall some close encounters during this prolonged bombardment. I was in my trench one night when I got a call from Company Sergeant Mick Harte to help the cooks deliver food. As I jumped out of the trench Captain Harry Agnew jumped in. A split second later a mortar landed. Captain Agnew was hit. He lost a finger’.

    In the middle of the constant sniping and mortar fire the cooks kept the men fed. Every veteran of A Company remembers Sergeant Tom ’Nobby’ Clarke, and Privates Danny Bradley and Jim Murray, DSM. The menu consisted of powdered eggs, powdered milk, powdered potatoes, bullied beef, and dog biscuits. As Jimmy recalls, ‘You had two choices: take it or leave it’.

    It was during one of these attacks that Sergeant Paddy Mulcahy, DSM, was wounded for the first time. On 14 December, he was hit again, this time badly. ‘Paddy was one of those casualties I brought back to the Medical Centre. The Company Sergeant there said “who have you got this time”. “It’s me again”, Paddy said before I could answer. He was still conscious even though his leg was ripped apart. He died of his wounds on the 16th’.

    On 16 December, the UN around Élisabethville was given orders to push the Katanganese Gendarmes and mercenaries from the city. Known as Operation Sarsfield, the coming battle would be the first time an Irish Defence Forces peacekeeping unit would be ordered into offensive operations.

    A Company machine gun post.

    In a torrential downpour the battle began at 04:00. A Company’s task was to attack and hold the ‘Tunnel’. This was a strategic railway bridge over a major road into the city. The Katanganese were well positioned. They had fortified the railway carriages, erected concrete emplacements, and had well dug-in heavy machine guns and anti-tank positions. The Irish announced the battle by opening up with a mortar barrage. A Company moved forward with B Company in support. Other UN forces also took part in the operation, including the Ethiopians and Indians.

    Coming under continuous heavy fire the UN were made fight for every inch of ground. Over a 12-hour period A Company advanced, took a position, consolidated, re-supplied and advanced again. During the final assault on the ‘Tunnel’, No. 1 Platoon’s Lieutenant Paddy Riordan and his radio operator Private Andy Wickham were killed. ‘Seeing his two comrades fall, Sergeant Jim Sexton immediately ran forward and took over the platoon. The attack did not falter’.

    Both sides took casualties. The engagement broke the back of the Katanganese and they withdrew from the city. By the end of the month the UN forces had full control of the city and things began to return to normal for the local people.

    The Christmas Menu for the Irish peacekeepers.

    For their action that day, 14 members of A Company were awarded the Distinguished Service Medal, including Paddy Riordan. ‘Many of us believe there should have been two more, including Jim Sexton for taking over the attack and Andy Wickham for staying beside his platoon commander under fire’.

    Irish Defence Forces personnel bring their fallen comrades home.

    With some of their casualties being repatriated home due to their wounds, the remaining men of A Company, 36th Infantry Battalion settled down to routine peacekeeping for the next five months. ‘After those first ten days. Everything was quiet in comparison. There were a few more skirmishes but nothing as serious. We helped the locals as best we could. We learned languages such as French, Kongo, Swahili, and Tshiluba. Sadly, Corporal John Power died in March of natural causes. For £1 I bought myself a box camera and brought back some photographs for everyone at home to see’.

    Jimmy Clarke retired from the Irish Defence Forces after 43 years service with the rank of Company Quartermaster Sergeant. After his tour of duty with 36th Infantry Battalion he served again with the UN in the ONUC Headquarters, Cyprus and Lebanon. Today Jimmy is one of the main organisers of the A Company Association. Every year on the closest Sunday to 16 December, veterans of A Company and their families hold a commemoration at the Irish Defence Forces plot at Glasnevin Cemetery, to honour their fallen comrades.

    ‘Some went out as boys and came back as men. Some went out as men and came back better men. Today more than half a century later, many are Grandfathers, some are even Great Grandfathers.’

    Sadly CQMS Jimmy ‘Nobby’ Clarke passed away in November 2016.