Ireland's Military Story

Tag: Óglaigh na hÉireann

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.

28 February 2018
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.

19 February 2018
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.
24 November 2017
Over the Back Wall Irish Volunteer Joseph O’Neill
Over the Back Wall
Irish Volunteer Joseph O’Neill

By Maureen O’Neill

Published in Spring 2016 edition

I was a young adult back in 1972 when my grandfather Joseph O’Neill died – he was 74 years old. You know the famous quote of George Bernard Shaw, ‘Youth is Wasted on the Young’ – well that certainly applies here. Even though at the time my grandfather was given a military funeral, it completely went over my head. All we had ever been told was our grandfather had taken part in the 1916 Rising and the War of Independence. He had never spoken about it however, so we knew very little. The one thing that I did remember down through the years was the three-volley salute over his grave; but the significance of that never really registered with me back then; that was until much later in life when I developed a great love of history.

South Dublin Union, Marrowbone Lane and Roe’s Distillery 1916 Garrison reunion 1966. Joseph O’Neill is in the front row third from the left.

In 2008 my uncle died leaving behind a lot of old paperwork to be sorted through. Of course, there were the usual old photos – which are always so fascinating. The one that really grabbed my attention was the photo of South Dublin Union, Marrowbone Lane and Roe’s Distillery 1916 Garrison, taken in 1966; 60 men and women – all survivors of the 1916 Rising. There in the front row was my grandfather. How could I get more information on what my grandad was up to in 1916? I was advised by a friend to start by contacting Military Archives in Rathmines, Dublin – this was the beginning of a fascinating journey. We knew that he had taken part in the 1916 Rising and the War of Independence. He was born in 35 Cork Street, and worked all of his working life in a little bootmaker’s premises at 95 Cork Street. But that was all we knew.

When I rang Military Archives were kind enough to furnish me with some of the documentation that pertained to him. I received along with his Individual Application for a Military Service Pension (1935), copies of his Easter Rising 1916 Certificate and his 50th Anniversary Certificate. These have become family heirlooms and will become the topic of conversation for many years to come. There were however many gaps in the story as the pension application and certificates really only confirmed his service and that he had applied for a pension. In the 1966 reunion picture that I had found in my uncle’s you could see all the veterans wearing medals. Growing up I’d never seen these medals and no one knew where they were. The medals were identified as the 1916 and War of Independence Service Medals. To coincide with the 90th anniversary of 1916, in 2006 the then Minister for Defence, Willie O’Dea TD, announced that the State would replace these lost, stolen or destroyed medals with certificates. With the information Military Archives had sent I applied and was awarded the certificates.
In January 2014, the Military Service Pensions Collection was launched with an accompanying website, this website gave anyone with an interest the ability to research those who participated in period from 1916 to 1923. Some 300,000 documents and files have since been released. Everything to do with my grandfather was now digitalised and online; his birth cert, marriage cert, pension application and Military Service Pension documents, and his Bureau of Military History Witness Statement. The bigger story now began to come together.

The Military Service Pensions had been originally awarded in 1923 to wounded members, widows, children and dependents of deceased members of Óglaigh na hÉireann, eventually legislation was brought in that included the veterans of Easter week 1916, through to 30 September, 1923. These pensions were not handed out at will; the applicant had to prove ‘active service’ during this time and support their application with the relevant documentation before they could be deemed successful or not. In January 1935, my grandfather applied for his pension. The Military Service Pension stated that my grandfather was awarded a pension in 1935 of £20 per annum for four years active service.

Both the Military Service Pension and his Witness Statement put my grandfather at 17 when he joined C Company 4th Battalion Dublin Brigade Irish Volunteers in 1915. I never realised he was so young. The Witness Statement reads:

This is the sworn statement of Joseph O’Neill, (1321) made before advisory committee
22 February, 1935.
Q. What did you do on Easter Sunday?
A. I think we were mobilised for Easter Sunday and it was
called off. I think I mobilised at Emerald Square on the Monday
and went into Marrowbone Lane Distillery. I was there until the
surrender.
Q. Did you surrender with the rest?
A. No, I saw Mr. McGrath going out over the wall and I had
heard that we were all going to get away. I followed them and
got away over the back wall, into Cork Street. I left my arms
behind me.
Q. You joined up again?
A. Yes.
So, my grandfather at the end of Easter week literally jumped over the back wall and went home. How he did not later get arrested in the roundup I do not know. Joseph O’Neill re-joined his volunteer unit in 1917. This time C Company was under the command of command of Major J.V. Joyce. He continued with his active service-attending company parades and training in the use of arms. One letter on file in Military Archives written by a Patrick Byrne testifies as to my grandfather, ‘carrying out all duties and orders assigned to him’.

The documents also say that in 1917 he attended Thomas Ashe’s funeral. Ashe had been force fed by the prison authorities He died on the 25 September, 1917. His body lay in state at Dublin City Hall and as it made its way to Glasnevin cemetery it was followed by 30,000 people led by armed volunteers – my grandfather was one of these volunteers. One fascinating story is in the witness statement from my grandfather – attested to by a Mr. Joseph McGrath. According to Mr. McGrath, my grandfather was responsible in 1920 for taking from shoes sent by McGrath who was then a prisoner in Brixton prison, an escape plan, which was then delivered to General Michael Collins and acted upon. Correspondence first came from Mr. McGrath’s private Secretary on 25 January, 1935 and went as follows:

Dear Sir,
I am instructed by Mr. McGrath to acknowledge
your letter of the 23rd Inst. I am to inform you that
it will be in order for you to give his name when
you are making application for a Service Pension.
Mr. McGrath will be pleased to vouch for the
incident you refer to, and generally in respect of
your service.
Yours faithfully.
Mr. McGrath’s Private Secretary.

Further correspondence from Mr. McGrath’s was written on 6 March, 1935, and reads as follows:

This is to certify that Joseph O’Neill of 11 Somerville
Ave, Crumlin was under arms in Easter Week 1916 at
Marrowbone Lane. I also certify the fact that O’Neill
was responsible in 1920 for taking from shoes sent by
me from Brixton prison a plan for escape which was
delivered to the late General Collins and acted upon.
If any further details are required, I will be glad if
possible to give them.

Signed: Joseph McGrath.

My Grandfather’s sworn statement on 22 February, 1935, went as follows:

Q. What incident is this which Mr. McGrath is prepared to certify?
A. I am a bootmaker, and when he was in prison in England, he sent me a pair of boots to repair. In the repairing of them I discovered the prison plans hidden in them. I immediately brought them to his wife and she told me on no account to mention it to anyone.

The stories of the Easter Rising and that period of history is made up of a large number of smaller stories, my grandfather’s contribution is part of that bigger story. The majority of the men and women who fought in 1916 never spoke about their experiences, and certainly never attempted to put them on record. I wrote this article in order to pay tribute to the memory of my granddad Joseph O’Neill and to acknowledge his small contribution.
23 May 2016
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.

13 September 2015
War Along the Suez – Major General Vincent Savino

WAR ALONG THE SUEZ

Major General Vincent F. Savino (Retd) talks about his time along the Suez Canal as a UN Military Observer

Cover image: A view of Observation Post Red, April 22, 1973, located East Side of the Suez Canal in Israeli-occupied Sinai. The U.N. vehicle in the foreground was destroyed during the 1969 shelling. (UN Photo/Yutaka Nagata)

First published in Winter 2014 issue.

Following the Israeli victory in the Six-Day War in June 1967 – the entire Egyptian Sinai Peninsula up to the eastern bank of the Suez Canal was left in Israeli hands. Egypt was determined to regain its lost territory. Rebuilding its military Egyptian President, Gama Abdel Nasser, launched the War of Attrition along the Bar Lev Line (a chain of fortified Israeli positions on the Eastern bank of the Suez Canal) on 8 March 1970. Back in Ireland, then Captain Vincent Savino was stationed in Defence Forces Headquarters and dealing with the emerging Troubles in Northern Ireland.

President of IUNVA, Major General Vincent F. Savino (Retd) (Photo by Pat Nolan)

“1969 saw the Defence Forces mobilising due to the situation in the North. I was located in the Quartermaster General’s office and believe me when I tell you it was mayhem. In the middle of all this, officers were being sought for a one-year tour of duty with the United Nations Truce Supervision Organization (UNTSO). I’d been in the Middle East before while serving in Cyprus some years previously and it caught my attention. We had had people wounded in the region and people were reluctant to go. Along with two others I volunteered in December of that year”.

UNTSO is the UN’s oldest mission. It was founded on 29 May 1948, to monitor the ceasefire agreements following the Arab-Israeli War. Since then, UNTSO has expanded to supervise the General Armistice Agreements of 1949 and the observation of the ceasefire in the Suez Canal area and the Golan Heights following the Six-Day War of June 1967. To carry out its mission UNTSO deploys unarmed Military Observers. Following the Six-Day War, 90 such observers were deployed in the Suez Canal Sector.

Selling his car and packing up his wife and six children Captain Savino headed off to Israel.

“In those days there weren’t the allowances that there are now. Hence why I had to sell my car. We were given a $1½ extra a day. I settled my family just outside Jerusalem in the Jordanian administered sector.” In Jerusalem, the observers were given a week to acclimatise at UNTSO HQ. They met up with other new observers and were briefed on the mission. The other new observers came from all over the world including Argentina, Austria, Chile, Finland, France and Sweden. “We met UNTSO Chief of Staff Lt Gen Odd Bull from Norway who went through the current situation. “I often think back to that week. Nothing could have prepared us for what we were about to go through.”

At the end of the week the new observers left Jerusalem for duty along the Canal at 5am driving south to the UNTSO Control Centre at Kantara, which was some 40km from the line of Observation Posts (OPs). This leg of the journey took four hours. The Control Centre was responsible for all OP’s along the East Suez; of which there were seven at the time. Each OP was designated by a colour; Blue, Copper, Pink, Green, Silver, Orange, and Violet, On the West Suez in Egypt UNTSO OP’s were designated by the phonetic alphabet such as OP Echo and OP Foxtrot. In theory, observers were meant to rotate between the OPs and the Control Centre every five days. They would soon learn this was not always to be the case. “We received a briefing ‘you are going to OP Pink’. Myself and an Austrian officer were paired up. An armed Israeli Lieutenant was assigned to us as our liaison. Grabbing our kit bags and rations we were off again. Our convoy consisted of four jeeps. It was another two-hour drive to OP Pink. We were coming up close to our destination when over the radio, ‘Patrol Pink stop your vehicles firing ahead’. Stopping our vehicles we got out, put on our flak jackets and got in behind a sand wall. From the other side all we could hear was sounds of mortar fire and machine gun fire. I thought what the…. there’s a war going on. What am I doing here?”

The Suez Canal links the Mediterranean Sea with the Red Sea. It is 193.30km (120.11miles) long, 24m (79ft) deep and 205m (673ft) wide. Its length and width have proven formidable obstacles during the conflicts between Israel and Egypt. “In parts you actually look up at the Canal. Because of the war the Canal was closed and several ships were trapped. In the desert you were looking up at a ship. It was bizarre.”

With the Egyptians poised on the West Bank and the Israelis poised on the East Bank both militaries positioned themselves near to UN OPs in the hope that the opposing side wouldn’t fire on an area where the UN were located.

A view of Observation Post PINK, 1973, located on the Eastern shore of Little Bitter Lake in Israeli-Occupied Sinai. (Photo: UN Photo/Yutaka Nagata)

OP Pink was only a few hundred yards from the edge of the Canal located on the Eastern shore of Little Bitter Lake. It consisted of no more than a rundown caravan with a radio mast and a sandbagged bomb shelter. This was home for Captain Savino’s first week along the Suez. “There we were in the middle of a war radioing back to Kantara reporting on the shelling and airstrikes. Our first tour of duty lasted only seven days due to the constant shelling. We spent most of our time in the shelter which was an iron beehive construction with sandbags all around it. Crouched inside with the Austrian and the Israeli officer you had to sit there and listen to the shells landing all around. During long periods of shelling you were left with only army rations to eat. It was stressful at times”.

OP Pink was eventually relieved after seven days and the observers rotated back to Kantara. Six days in Kantara and then back to the Canal. Daily routine in the OP’s began at 07:00. At this time Kantara transmitted the music of Lillibullero across the airwaves to wake everyone up. The OP’s responded by sending in their situation reports which gave the number of observed air attacks, tank and artillery shellings and small arms fire. “While on OP Copper I concluded my report by saying, ‘this is the 100th air attack reported by this OP.’ That was just over a six-day period.” To constitute an air attack the attack had to last 15 minutes, otherwise it was just a bombing.

Officers at work in the Operations Room of Kantara Control Centre, originally located in Kantara East and now resited at Rabah in Israeli-Occupied Sinai. They are (foreground to background) Capt. Bjorn Dahlman of Sweden, Lt. Col. E. Lehtovirta of Finland, Officer-in-Charge, Kantara Control Centre, Capt. Fraz Foidl of Austria, and Capt. Yrjo Helanen of Finland. (Photo: UN Photo/Yutaka Nagata)

The Egyptians primarily used Soviet made equipment, while the Israelis primarily used Western made equipment. In the air the observers witnessed Egyptian flown Russian made Mig’s and Sukoi’s up against Israeli flown Fouga Magisters, Mirages and Skyhawk’s. “We would watch as the Egyptians tried to build surface to air missile emplacements. The Israelis would fly in and take them out. One time we were sent to a crash site of an Israeli spy plane which had been shot down. When we got there parts of the plane and bodies were all over the place. We found parts of a Russian made missile with Cyrillic writing which had clearly shot down the plane”.

“We saw it all. Heavy artillery fire, raids across the canal, aircraft coming in and dropping napalm, tank and artillery duels. All we could do was report each incident. When the firing started hitting close to us we would radio our fellow UNTSO observers on the Egyptian side and try and get them to tell the Egyptians to stop firing at us. I was lucky I never got hit bar a few scratches. During my time there we suffered five casualties. A Swedish officer and Argentinean officer were killed and three others badly wounded. We had several other minor injuries.”

With the Israeli positioning themselves close to UN positions damage from Egyptian aircraft, artillery and tanks was inevitable. Kantara was so badly damaged that it had to be abandoned and a new Control Centre was established at an old railway station in Raba. At Raba, the observers had to work under canvass. Across from them was a Bedouin village. Two OPs were also withdrawn leaving five in operation.

A relief party unloading food and petrol supplies at Observation Post PINK located on the East Side of the Suez Canal in Israeli-Occupied Sinai. Each Observation Post (OP) is manned by two UN Military Observers, generaly of different nationalities. The tour of duty at OPs is normally 6 days at the Kantara Control Centre area (KCC) and 4 days in the other areas. The longer tour of duty at the KCC OPs is due to the road distance between UNTSO Headquarters and the OPs. After each tour of duty at OPs, UNMOS return to the residence area for a few days of rest. (Photo: UN Photo/Yutaka Nagata)

“The Israeli tank commanders would roll up on ramps behind the sand wall along the Canal. The minute their turret cleared the wall they’d fire and roll back down. This would go on and on. Once I saw this young tank commander in his turret with his head up. His tank rolled up the sandwall; he took out a can of coke, drank it and fired. They were doing this to provoke the Egyptians to return fire and give away their positions. During my time the Israelis were losing at least one soldier killed every day.”

In the middle of rotating from OP to OP Vincent was able to take leave to Jerusalem to visit his family. “Having the family there was wonderful and a great relief. Once we got accommodation and schools sorted, they all had a lifetime experience. When I got leave we used to travel all over Israel, up into Damascus, Lebanon and over to Cairo in Egypt. I am delighted to say that the travelling bug has not left any of my children since”.

The War of Attrition continued until August 1970 and ended with a ceasefire. The ceasefire lines remained the same as when the war began and with no real commitment to serious peace negotiations. With the end of the war the Suez became much calmer. Tensions however remained high between Israel and Egypt and sporadic firing across the Canal still took place. The UNTSO observers found themselves having to rebuild their bombed OPs and getting on with their mission. At the end of year one, now Commandant Savino was a Special Duties Officer responsible for looking after and improving the OP’s. “I was given the task of trying to improve the OPs. We were mixing cement, sometimes under fire, trying to make the shelters and living conditions that little bit better. This is all with a backdrop of the Canal, heat, sun and sand. Back then there was no internet or satellite TV. The people at home had no idea what was happening. It was some experience. One which I’ll never forget”.

Commandant Savino then volunteered for an extension of another year. During that time he became an Assistant Operations Officer in the Control Centre and in the last few months an Operations Officer in charge of the area. In 1973 the region was torn apart again during the Yom Kippur War. Today UNTSO observers are still carrying out their mission in the Middle East. Over the years 18 observers have lost their lives in the service of peace, two of whom were Irish. Commandant Thomas Wickham was shot dead in Syria in June 1967 and Commandant Michael Nestor was killed by a roadside mine in September 1982 in Lebanon.

Vincent Savino went on to serve until 1989 retiring at the rank of Major General. He is currently President of the Irish United Nations Veterans Association.

“Peacekeeping is not a job for soldiers, but only soldiers can do it.”
Kofi Annan, UN General Secretary 1997-2006

Timeline of Events

1859

Construction starts on canal

1922

Egypt gains independence from Great Britain

1948

State of Israel declared

First Arab/Israeli War

UNTSO established

1952

Military Coup in Egypt

1956

Britain gives up Suez Canal after 72 years of occupation

General Nasser is elected president of Egypt

Suez Crisis

1967

Arab/Israeli Six Day War

UNTSO extended to Suez Canal

1970

Captain Savino deployed to UNTSO

Egyptian/Israeli War of Attrition

1973

Yom Kippur War

15 December 2014