Month: June 2020

Date:  10th June 1941

Location:  Kilmacthomas, Co. Waterford

Aircraft Type:  Fighter

Crew Members:  (1)

            Pilot Officer Maurice Motte

Notes: Pilot Officer Motte was part of a Free French Unit operation out of England. He had been involved in an attack on a German Bomber in the sky over Ireland. The German Aircraft a Heinkel Bomber with a crew of five tried to make an emergency landing near Churchtown, Co. Waterford, but burst into flames after hitting a stone wall, killing all crew members.  Officer Mott aircraft was also damaged in the skirmish and had to make an emergency landing not too far from Kilmacthomas Co. Waterford. 

Date:  1st April 1941

Location:  Dunbratten Head, Co Waterford.

Aircraft Type:  Heinkel 111 Bomber

Crew Members:  (5)

            Leutnant Heinz Grau (Pilot)
            Feldwebel Georg Fleischmann 
            Oberfeldwebel  Ernst Lorra
            Unteroffizier Otto Jaegerr      
            Unteroffizier Ernst Gensen  

Notes:  The Heinkel Bomber had been shot up in an attack on some ships in the Bristol Channel. An engine had been knocked out and there was no question of their being able to return back to their base in Tours, France, so decided to make for Ireland. After landing successfully they quickly se

Belligerent aircraft would end up on Irish soil for one of two reasons:

1.    The allied pilots would land, mistaking Eire for Britain. This was quite common considering that aircraft navigation systems then were very basic compared to today’s standards.

2.    Aircraft would either be damaged during battle or run low on fuel, forcing the pilots to crash or emergency land. In the case of allied pilots they sometimes could not make it to Britain or Northern Ireland. Luftwaffe pilots would land in Eire in preference interment in Britain. 

When a warplane was forced to land in Eire, the crew would destroy all documents, maps and as much of the aircraft as possible, before they were captured. Allied pilots, on realizing where they had landed would attempt to travel to the North of Ireland, although not usually with much success.

Escape from K-Lines for German internees would prove undesirable, as France was the nearest axis occupied country to Ireland and travelling there, especially via England would prove very difficult. On the other hand, if British internees succeeded in escaping they would only have to travel little over one hundred miles in order to cross the boarder into Northern Ireland. However, the practice of breaking parole in an attempted to return home was condoned by the respective governments as it was seen as an abuse of privilege. Each internee had a duty to affect his escape but this would have to be done legitimately in the form of a break out from the camp. It was also the duty of the military guard in K-lines, to the escape or rescue of the internees. The guards were armed with rifles but ordered not to fire at internees who attempted escape. Even if an internee successfully effected escape from the compound, the Curragh Camp and surrounding towns were populated with off duty troops stationed in the Curragh. It was not long before Irish authorities had a good intelligence network known as G2, to counter escape attempts. Yet many pro British people were willing to aid the allied internees and an organization known as the “Escape Club” was formed. It was headed by Dr. Hugh Wilson who was a veteran of the First World War and established by M19, British Military Intelligence. The “Escape Club” would organize and aid many British internees to attempt escape during the war. 

EPISODE 67   BUNMAHON , IRELAND” “WE CAN CRAWL INTO THE OLD MINE THROUGH A HOLE”

alan skeoch

June 2020

THE HOLE BARNEY FOUND…LED INTO THE OLD MINE

“I know where there’s a hole.”

“A hole ?”

“Yes,, a hole in the cliff.”

“So?”

“So we can squeeze through the hole and get into the old mine.”

“You must be kidding, Barney”

“No,  I’ve crawled  into the hole many times.”

“Why?”

“Curiosity.”

“Can you take me there?”

“Sure, this Saturday if you want.”

SATURDAY JULY 23,1960

Note:  Saturday July 23, 1960, I was told  by Barney Dawn that it was

possible tp squeeze through an old adit (an air vent) and actually enter

te Knockmaon mine.   This event was a climax point in the Bunmahon

adventure.   I had a choice.  Take a risk and enter the mine.  Or

play  it safe and  do  nothing other than our surface work.  I chose

the risk taking venture.  Why?  Because I was 21 years old…young

and foolish.  Adventure seeking.  Crawling through that air vent

was not part of my job so, at first,  Barney, Andy and I did  it on evenings

or Sundays.  Later both John Hogan and Dr. John Stam decided

to get involved in underground exploration when we were made

aware of a legend lost cow in an old mine entrance inland from

the sea.   The results of that venture were startling.

So I have decided to give these ventures special consideration…and

a special heading.   A question for you to think about: Would you crawl

through that hole in the cliff face?   Would you do it when you were 21?

GOING UNDERGROUND WITH BARNEY 

That’s Barney Dwan relaxing on the cliffs he knew so well.  Just above him, almost invisible, is the entrance to our first underground

“See the hole up there?”

Begin forwarded message:

From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>

Subject: EPISODE 66 BUNMAHON, IRELAND SUNDAY JULY 17, 1960 TO CATTLE CHOMPING AND CASTLES BURNING

Date: June 15, 2020 at 9:00:16 PM EDT

To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>

EPISODE 66   BUNMAHON, IRELAND,     CATTLE CHOMPING , AND CASTLES BURNED

alan  skeoch

June 2020

Our crew assembling on a roadside.   The local newspaper from Waterford took this picture when they did a

long article on our poject.   I count 7 men here.  At one point I think we had 10 men employed.   Quite  a job to

keep  things  moving.  

SUNDAY, JULY 17, 1960

I’m getting to be familiar with Mass at St. Mary’s RC church but today

was a  cold weather experience….no heat in church.  What really amuses 

me at the church is  the Holy Water urn at the door.   My employees always

try to hit me with a handful.   Sometimes successful.

I spent the part of the day reading The Bramble Bush…very sad  book about mercy

killing, religions and, of  course, sex.  Not sure it was worth the time.  In the

afternoon we went down to Kirwin’s and Frank let us into the ‘secret’ room…the room has

connection with Time of the Troubles and the IRA.  I never know when 

people are telling the truth as they love mysterious stories.  Hard to imagine

Bonmahon people full of hatred.

Then I went for a walk on Bunmahon beach alone.  There were clusters

of people walking along the cliffs higher up.  Every evening. So I was not alone.

  A group of girls appeared  and greeted me by my name much  to

my surprise.  Scared me a bit really.  I think they used my first name, Alan,

rather than  the usual Master Skeoch.  Sounds odd to be called Master Skeoch

but it is very natural and I think a term of respect.   Certainly funny.

We  talked but I never quite understood  the accent.  Nice kids…a couple

of the girls were about my age.

Then around 9 p.m. a couple of the boys arrived to take me to a dance

in Tramore.  We had a grand time.  Dancing is a big time thing here in

Ireland.  Both of the ‘boys’ were older and married.

MONDAY, JULY 18, 1960

The sea was changeable.  In bad weather the waves came so far up the beach that our grounding rods were compromised. Waternever reached

the generator.  My fault for thinking grounding rods were secure.  

Today we attempted to lay a new base line east of Bunmahon.  Not easy.

Barney and I had to scale down a  200 foot cliff to get a good grounding

point.  I wish  I knew more about grounding.  Perhaps top of cliff would have

been fine.  Cliff climbing was frightening.  No sooner did we get the base line

in place than new herds of cattle began browsing on what looked  like special

food to them…our yellow wire.  Five cable breaks reduced  our daily mileage

to 3,100 feet.

I spent the evening working on my earphones and then Mrs. Kennedy

asked me to repair her vacuum cleaner.

I think this lad’s name was Tim.  He never spoke to me but loved the job.  I am not sure

he could speak.  Maybe he was  just shy.   He sure was  dependable…almost like he was

camping at our motor generator.

Bunmahon has quite a few handicapped  people.   We hired one young

lad to guard our motor generator.  He is handicapped.  Overjoyed to have

a job so  he set up a campsite beside the motor generator   Very cute.

I estimate there are 5 severely handicapped people in and around the village.

TUESDAY, JULY 19. 1960

This was  our first full working day  on new base line.  Disappointing. The local

cattle destroyed 1,500 feet of new cable…wire a jumble as  cattle dragged

lengths of the cable into a tangled mess.  Then they ate some.  

Worse still today the ocean got to our grounding rods.  My error. Relocated

them.  By 11 a.m. we were ready to try to get some readings done.  Managed

to do four lines.  Not bad.  

Passed through  a tiny chapel with an ancient graveyard…all that remains

of a monastery.  The boys told me the “chapel jumped across the stream”

and that is why it was saved.  Believe it or not.  

Returned home quite pleased with the day.  Mrs. Kennedy assured  me she

now had enough peanut butter as she drove to Waterford where it was

sent from Dublin.  Nice of her.  Seems she did  know about peanut butter’s

existence.  Sometimes her dialect confuses me but she is a quite outstanding

woman and certainly has strong opinions about human behaviour.  Neither

she wore her husband go to Kirwin’s pub.  She disapproves of local  people

spending money there because they have so little money.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 20, 1960

John Stam and John Hogan drove to St. Patrick’s, a mining community,

in search of more business for the Turam…or maybe just curiosity.

The boys and i pushed  the distance we could be from the electrified

base line.  I was able to read a signal at 4300 feet. but only faintly. We

usually terminate the lines at 3,000 feet distant at a right angle from the base line.

Dr. Stam thinks some of our anomalies merit deeper consideration so

we have hired more men to did trenches down to bed rock just in

case there are mineralized exposures.  I visited our first trench today

where we found a little quartz exposed.  I do  not know if this was

important or not.

What is most amusing, however, is  the way  a herd of pigs clustered

at the top of the trench while the men were digging.  Barney thinks

some pigs are dangerous but this group were just curious.  When I get

strapped in to the Turam receiving coil and console  and battery pack

I cannot get away should  the pigs let hunger trump curiosity.

Barney tells me stories endlessly.  Always with the hint of a smile so i am never sure what to

believe.  The pig story for instance.  He mentions it every time we meet a gang of pigs.

“Story is told of a Nun taking a short cut to church across a farm field.  The pigs got

her. All that was found were her boots with her feet in them.”  Chuckle…chuckle.  

Took a  bath tonight.  Needed it

THURSDAY, JUlY 21, 1960

Today  we entered  the O’Shea  forest at Garnemorris.  Purgatory

would be nicer than this expanse of tangled Holly and Ivy.  Dense.

Higher than any person on our crew and  difficult to cut.  All part of

of a large heavily treed  forest.   Part of the 1500 acre O;Shea estate.

The manor house was set on fire in 1922 by IRA members protesting

the large landowners wealth at the expense of ordinary Irish who lived

in poverty.  Must check out the name “Power O’Shea”.

Mr. Cunningham arrived to check out our Turam  work . He represents

the Geological Survey of Ireland.   We picked up a hue anomaly.  Not sure

if reading is  reliable though as  signal was  very weak due to leak.

We  had to give up around 3 p.m. because foliage was  so dense we

could hardly move and I was not sure the compass baring was accurate

when the lines were cut.

NOTE:  Before we attempt to ‘read’ the Turam, a linocutting crew is 

sent to cut and mark lines 3,000 feet on either side of the electrified base 

line.   The line cutters pound in stakes marking  50 or 100 feet 

‘stations’  as they proceed.  Usually a  two or three man crew do this

using a compass for accuracy…ie. to ensure the lie is straight.  In the

O’shea forest errors occurred because straight line compass sightings

were difficult.

Fener Bog, County Waterford…where Larry Dey

got caught and was sinking. Fenor Bog began to grow 10,000 years in a lake basin at the bottom

of Ballyscanlon Hill. Peat – the partially rotted remains of plants filled the basin to form a raised bog. 

In historic times the bog was cut by local people. The turf removed was used to heat family homes. 

About 100 years ago, turf cutting ceased and the bog began to regenerate into the wet fen habitat we see today. 

Larry Dey got stuck in the Fener bog hole today.  He was trapped and

sinking when Johny came along and pulled him out.  Probably would

not have sunk much deeper.  But bogs can paralyze.

FRIDAY,  JULY 22, 1960

We got an early start today   

The day  was  full of troubles as rhe staking crew were inaccurate due

to the heavy forest and low brush and bog vegetation.  Very difficult to

keep the lines  straight.   I was irritated but should not have been 

since the crew tried hard to keep at right angles to base line. 

I should not have been angry…but the feeling of responsibility overcame

good sense … and good public relations.   

WHAT HAPPENED IN THE TIME OF THE TROUBLES?

upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b9/A_family_pose_beside_a_make-shift_shelter_Alexander_Street%2C_Waterford%2C_Ireland%2C_1920s_%286805869735%29.jpg/1575px-A_family_pose_beside_a_make… 2x” data-file-width=”2485″ data-file-height=”1890″ class=””>

Pictured above are three generations  of a poverty stricken Waterford family living under a old tarpaulin.

The picture may have been  staged somewhat .  photo credit 1900 to 1920 by a reporter associated

with the IRA movement.

NOTE:   While there were almost constant references to the “time of the Troubles” by

our Irish  hosts, the Kennedy family…and also by our work force and people at Kirwin’s

pub, these comments were never made in a hostile manner.  The Irish were warm and

fun loving in my experience. When one  of our workers father died  i went to the

wake which was a warm tribute to the man… feeling of warmth…of acceptance…of sincere interest. It was

very hard for me to visualize either the  potato famine of the 1840’s or the violence of

the move to independence in the 1920’s.   But there were definitely bad times.

The mention by Mrs. Kennedy that the O’Shea manor house had been burned by he IRA

in 1922 was an offhand remark. I thought it might be an isolated event.  Wrong. In the Time

of the Troubles  IRA men burned 274 Irish mansions mostly owned by Protestant Irish (many

of  them former English).  The goal  was to get land back to Irish  peasant farmers but much of

that had already been done.  A Land Reclamation program had been redistributing land for

some time.  As a result  The burnings backfired on the IRA since many jobs on these 

estates were lost. That was the 1920’s. But the IRA was making a point no matter what the cost.

So in the 1920’s many great mansions were lost.   In the 1950’s and the 1960’s the same thing

was happening to  English country houses

by the hundreds….in1955 one was being demolished  every five days… auctioning contents

 and demolition because aristocratic  families

lost their heirs in the World  Wars or the owners could no longer pay the taxes on big estates

that amounted  unto 65% Succession duties.  In  both cases…Irish violence and  English post war

poverty resulted in the loss of hundreds of magnificent buildings.  National treasures gone.

(Later I hoped to visit the Eywood Estate in England which was demolished  in 1955.  My grandfather

Edward Freeman  had been he head  gardener on the estate  Mom was born there.  I wondered

what would be left standing.  I knew the huge country house was gone.  Was it all gone?)

How much of this violence happened near Bunmahon in the 1920’s?   Two events stand  out.

1) THE BURGERY AMBUSH:

(Dungarven)

“On the night of 18–19 March 1921, IRA volunteers of the West Waterford flying column ambushed a British military convoy at the Burgery, about a mile and a half northeast of Dungarvan. The convoy included Black and Tans and a Royal Irish Constabulary Sergeant, named Michael Hickey.^[2] In overall command of the IRA unit was IRA GHQ Officer George Plunkett. Also present were West Waterford Brigade Commandant Pax Whelan, ASU leader George Lennon, and Mick Mansfield. A British Crossley tender was set on fire and prisoners taken by the IRA, including Sergeant Hickey. Hickey was later killed by an IRA firing squad^[3] with a sign reading “police spy” affixed to his tunic. He was later buried in an unmarked grave.^[2] Other prisoners including Captain DV Thomas, the commander of the British garrison, were released.

After the ambush, a group of volunteers under Plunkett returned to search for any armaments left behind by the British forces. Crown forces who were now searching the area engaged the IRA party; IRA volunteers Seán Fitzgerald and Pat Keating were shot dead. A Black and Tan, Constable Sydney R. Redman^[3] was shot dead during the return fire.”  Wikipedia

2)  BURNING OF THE POWER O’SHEA ‘BIG HOUSE’

(This mayor may not be the O’Shea big  house  (Country House, Mansion…other terms).  After the fire the 

house was  rebuilt and repaired)

The ‘big house’ on the O’Shea estate was one of the nearly 300 country houses set on fire by the IRA in the 1920’s…set on fire  because they were symbols of

the English oppression of the Irish.  The OShea  house was only partially destroyed so it was subsequently rebuilt.  Lost in the fire, however, were the artworks

and the library.  Other Country Houses had a much darker fate .. i.e. totally destroyed.

Quote below:

QuoW “

Ballynastragh House depicted in 1826, typical of the “Big Houses” targeted by the IRA.

 “By the start of the Irish revolutionary period in 1919, the Big House had become symbolic of the 18th and 19th-century dominance of the Protestant Anglo-Irish class in Ireland at the expense of the native Roman Catholic population, particularly in southern and western Ireland.^[4]

The Anglo-Irish, as a class, were generally opposed to the notions of Irish independence and held key positions in the British administration of Ireland. The Irish nationalist narrative maintained that the land of Irishmen had been illegally stolen from them by the landowning aristocracy, who had mostly arrived in Ireland as Protestant settlers of The Crown during the late 16th and 17th centuries. The Irish Big House was at the administrative centre of the estates of the landowners, as well as being the family seat from which the Anglo-Irish exerted their political control over the island.^[5]

This perception was popularly held by nationalists, despite a considerable increase in Irish landownership in the previous decades due to the Irish Land Acts. Whereas in 1870, 97% of land was owned by landlords and 50% by just 750 families, by 1916, 70% of Irish farmers owned their own land.^[6] Catholics had been emancipated in 1829 and the political dominance of the Anglo-Irish in Ireland had consequently declined following the electoral successes of the Catholic nationalist Irish Parliamentary Party through much of the 19th century.^[7]

The former Protestant Ascendancy had lost its economic power following the Great Famine of 1845-49, and the Long Depression of the 1870s; and then lost its political power after the Representation of the People Act 1884. By 1915 the Irish Land Commission had transferred over 60% of Irish farmland to tenant farmers, leaving most of the former landed gentry with a house and a home farm known as a “demesne”. The former landlords could afford to employ gardeners and household staff as they had received, as a group, the equivalent of over €60 billion (in 2019 euro).^[8] Burning country houses from 1919 was therefore largely symbolic, and removed the former landlords’ capital from the Irish economy when they emigrated, as well as ending the employment of thousands of their staff, with an inevitable knock-on effect on local economies. “ (wikipedia)

Bonmahon was not such a peaceful friendly place  in the years of the Great Potato Famine much

of which was blamed on the English.  Negative  comments made in the 1850’s by the local Protestant minister

in Bonmahon, Rev. Doudney. who left  Bonmahon in 1857 nearly triggered  a blood bath but that

could be an exaggeration.   No one seems to have lost their life.  People just moved  on.

Postcard pictures of Bonmahon between 1900 and1920’s.  Mr. and

Mrs.  Kennedy’s home survived but other homes were gone by 1960

END EPISODE 66

Method[edit]

This is my journal…the beginning  of a great adventure.

IN DUBLIN’S FAIR CITY

alan Skeoch

Journal June 1 to June 13, 1960

(No one predicted I would have a two week holiday in Dublin)

This is the ancient Knockmahon copper mine on the south coast of Ireland.  That

was my destination in 1960 but it would take 13 more days to get there. Meanwhile

I lived in Dublin.

Dublin, quite a city.  Circumstances prolonged my stay in Dublin so let me give you a short impression.

First thing is the city smells…Jacob’s cookie factory, Guinness 62 acre brewery, Tea shops and horses. The

smell is intoxicating.  The main street, O’Connell Street is wide and busy and for the most part happy in spite

of bullet holes deliberately left to remind Irish people of the ‘time of the troubles’.   The people are super

friendly…policemen who paid my bus fare, citizens who helped me find my way, and one family…the Behan’s,

who sort of adopted me.   Lots of pubs to visit.  Lots of meat pies and sweet rolls to eat.  Trees!! Lots of them

and a huge 700 acre park near the city centre.  Problems?  Of course.  Some obviously deranged people

here and there.  Violence?  Never had trouble except one incident that I foolishly precipitated myself.

To top the visit off, I was able to see The Quiet Man, the charming John Wayne, Maureen Ohara, and’

Barrie Fitzgerald movie about an Ireland that seemed mythical but turned out to be true.  Some Irish might

resent the stereotypes  but I thoroughly enjoyed them with no expectations they would be part of

my experience on the Bunmaahon job.  But so much happened that was similar.   Not that I  felt I

was  John Wayne.  I was however a North American stepping into a cultural milieu of which I was

unfamiliar.

MYJOURNAL:  I thought it was lost until by good fortune in April, 2018, I found it among some old  books in the cellar.  Quite amazing detail.

JUNE 1, 1960

Smooth flight across to Ireland with Air Lingus.  No one there to meet me so I can do whatever I please I guess.

Dublin is  a beautiful city with throngs  of people on OConnell Street.  Friendly.  Girls are very pretty.  Visited

the art gallery and then the museum like a normal  tourist.  Had to remind myself that I was not a tourist .

Found offices of Arbuckle – Smith and Company only to discover our Turam shipment had not arrived yet.

Called Barrie Nichols in Toronto to let him know there will be a delay then went shopping for shirt and shoes.

Supper was no good. Toured Gresham Green.  Called  Mrs.  Behan who  invited me out to their house 

tomorrow when Kevin Behan gets back from Italy. Very tired.  Fell to sleep three times during the day. Being

alone is not that enjoyable.  Need other people to make life really interesting but it looks like I will

be stuck here in Dublin for some time.  No point in heading south the County Waterford and  village of

Bunmahon without all our crates of instruments. Toured Gresham Green.

Huntec had booked  me into the high class Gresham Hotel expecting my stay in Dublin would be short.

But our crates of equipment did not arrive for nearly two weeks.  The Gresham was fancy and expensive

.  NO one told me the breakfasts were included in the room price.  I skipped breakfast

for a week to save the company money as my expense check was only 200 pounds…not enough

for me to stay at the Gresham so after a week I found a  cheap hotel in Clontarf, the Hollybrook, where

I seemed to be the only guest and the staff made it clear my breakfast as  included.  Even then by the

end of my stay in Dublin the money was  almost gone.

June 2, 1960

I woke up late so  skipped breakfast and walked to the Department of Justice to get my work clearance.  Had to prove I was doing

a job that nn Irish person could not do.  Lots of unemployment here.  Looks like my training on the Turan E.M. unit has put me in a

special  spot.  Few people know how to run it…and it is quite complicated…motor generator, base line a mile or so long, two receiving 

coils with 100 for separation,  a console, picketed lines running 3,000 feet from the base line at right angles, etc.  Had to explain

this  to an official.  Tough situation.  Never expected to be grilled.

After that I took a bus to the the Guinness Brewery at St. James Gate, Since I had no bus fare the chap beside me paid my fare.

Guinness is the national drink of Ireland, unless you are a non-drinker.  What a rare privilege to see this massive brewery in operation.

They even have big draught horses harnessed to wagons loaded with barrels of Guinness to be delivered to pubs in Dublin.  The smell

of the horses and the Guinness is wonderful to me.  The tour included a pile of Guinness post cards featuring men lifting bull dozers

or pulling beer wagons with the horses as passengers. Humourous.   And the end of the tour was best. We all got a full pint of Guinness…

my first.  I wasn’t to struck on the black liquid at first but soon overcame that problem.  Seems a tourist can have as much as he or she

wants but I stuck to one pint.  I should have eaten breakfast. Felt a bit woozy…warm and woozy.  Not staggering.

Ah, yes, Guinness is the national drink of Ireland… made from barley, hops, yeast and water.  That does not sound complicated.  

Why is the beer black?  Roasted barley rather than malted which makes a thick creamy head on the pint.

 The thickness of the head is achieved by passing the beer through

nitrogen…smaller bubbles result.  Guinness is so thick that each pint needs  time to settle.  

Is Guinness really ‘good for you’ as the advertising says on billboards across  Dublin?  Some call Guinness ‘a meal  in a cup’ …198 calories

per pint …less than a pint of milk.  Drinkers  of Guinness get an ‘enhanced feeling of well being’ , an advertising statement frowned

on by the government.  Created in 18th century by Arthur Guinness

and apparently one of the most consumed beers worldwide.  Guinness does seem to be good for drinkers though…lots of healthy 

antioxidants…like fruits and vegetables…slow deposit of bad  cholesterol on artery walls. Or so the story is told.  My ‘meal in cup’

certainly replaced breakfast and gave me an enhanced feeling that the world around me is good.  So there you have it…obviously

       I took the tour to heart.

This  is  high tea at the Gresham Hotel where I stayed for the first week.  I did not know

Breakfast was included in the room rate so  skipped  breakfast for that week.  Fancy

hotel but very unfriendly.

Bought some tomatoes  and meat pie to eat in my room while reading a book. Sort of lonely feeling…needed

a pint of Guinness I guess but afraid to go into a pub alone.  Not fear just felt being solitary would be uncomfortable.

Contacted a sign painter as Ministry of Justice insisted I have a road sign saying Danger in both English

and Irish.  This will take some time to do…will pay extra to get faster work done.  Decided to go back to

the Guinness factory , now have bus tokens, but found place closed.  Got some good pictures though.

I was startled by a crazy woman in middle of the cobbled street near St. James Gate.  She was covered in

blood while singing and dancing and jumping around.  Very sad.  She even relieved herself by lifting her skirt

and pissing without care.  Most on lookers did not stop…treated  her as if a normal situation.  I kept walking 

as well.  Returned to my room to finish off the meat pie.

Phoned down to The Kennedy’s to see if  gear had arrived.  No luck.  Our crew of three will be staying with

the Kennedy family in Bunmahon.  

Then I bought some flowers and took a bus to the Behan home.  Mrs. Behan poured tea and a little later

Kevin Behan came bursting on the scene.  He had just landed from Italy.  Grand fellow.  He took me to a

pub for another Guinness.  Driving back he tried to run over a ‘teddy boy’…or at least to scare him.  ‘Teddy

boy’s are street gang members I assume.    Then he drove me home to my hotel room.

I Was quite surprised at Kevin’s hatred of these Teddy Boys.  Seemed just like rock and roll kids to me…couple 

of my friends had the greased  down haircuts although most of them had brush cuts and  were not nearly as 

fancy  dressed as the Irish Teddy Boys who tried to wear the fancy clothing of Edwardian England.  Some Teddy

Boys did run in tough gangs though.   I think Kevin Behan’s hatred was triggered by the Notting Hill race Riots in

London where some 300 Teddy Boys targeted black people using iron bars and butcher knives.  That was really bad

but most Teddy Boys were just mild rebels like a lot of kids in my high school days back in Canada.  I kept my

mouth shut.  Maybe Kevin had a bad experience. To me those Teddy Boys and Teddy Girls wereThe kind of kids  that loved 

the movie Blackboard Jungle.  I did not tell Kevin that I skipped school one afternoon just to see the movie.

Gutless.

Teddy Boys, so names by their Edwardian dress, were seen as rebels.  Really they looked

much like the Rock and Roll kids so common in Canada  in 1950’s and 1960’s.

June 3, 1960

I woke up at 9 and made my so called breakfast…crumpets and Quosh, an orange  fizzy drink.  Then went to see Mr. O;brien about maps

and he in turn sent me to the Ordinance Survey Office in Phoenix Park.  What an immense place… with so many cattle I could

not count them.,,and a herd of wild deer that had been there since the 17th century Got maps of old mines in western part of County Waterford. 

Not sure they will be of any use at all. 

Spent rest of  day

walking through PhoenixPark. A bunch of soldiers were lawn bowling at one spot.  Then visited the Dublin Zoo.  Wish I hadn’t because 

when I put the lens of my camera  close to the monkey enclosure one big monkey jumped  at me with sexual intent.  

What generous people…an off duty policeman paid my fare back to my hotel.  Bought sausage rolls, buns and tomatoes

for my supper…alone in my room…saving company expenses.  Phoned  Mr. Timlin, our shipment of crates from Canada have arrived in Liverpool.  Went to a movie after which

I was cornered and badgered by a family of beggars on a side street…five them…really dirty.  Dangerous.  My nice feeling of independence is turning into

loneliness.  Wrote letter to Marjorie and went to bed.

Phoenix Park has large herd of semi wild deer that have been there from the 18th century

Streets of Dublin, in 1960, still had presence of horses.  This man was just leading four of them casually

down the street…note evidence of Horse manure indicating this was not an unusual sight.  a hundred years

ago these horses numbered in the thousands.  i.e. There were 100,000 horses  in London in 1850 and  Dublin

would have about the same.  Dung abounded.  Human escrement was eventually linked

        to outbreaks of  Cholera because water supply was contaminated with manure.

June 4, 1960

Got up late, very late…around noon.Went to bakeshop for my  breakfast (tomatoes, meat pie, crumpets). Spent most of the day absolutely bored.

Phoned  Kevin Behsn and went over to his house in the evening.  Their daughter Yvonne was very cute showing me her pictures.  Kevin and Mrs Behan

took me on the rounds of the local pubs.  Made me feel like home. One pub hd  a creek running through the middle of it, another pub was a castle…ended

evening in fish and chip  store.  I was startled to see so many Presbyterian churches in Dublin…thought all churches would be Catholic.  The I.R.A. had

a rally on O;Connell Street.   Met Joe Malone.  This is a strange summer…first prospecting job with so many people

around me.  Not the usual  wilderness  of black flies  and endless  boreal forest. All the Catholics I have met so far have been quite wonderful.

I expected hostility but found none so far.

June 5, 1960

Rose early and phoned Dr. John Stam in Holland. He will join me in Bunmahon once our crates get here.  Went to the Gresham  Green Unitarian Church

where Rev. Hicks was quite funny and very British.  Then he spoke about the absence of national Birth control as a cause of war… citing the Irish lady who had 24 children and 

her daughter who had 15.  I suppose that could be a criticism of Ireland’s Catholic majority and the church influence.  But I think his real point was that

overpopulation of planet earth would lead to the three horseman of the apocalypse…famine, plague and war.  

Caught a bus to Kevin and Ronnie’s house where Yvonne was very friendly crawling all over me.  Then we went for a very nice drive in the country.

Many old  castles.  Had ice cream. Mrs. Behan had a nice supper during which Yvonne gave me a carnation.  Yvonne is 6 or 7 years old.  Then Kevin

took me to a pub where we discussed the Irish Republican Army…kevin concluded that “the poison is being drawn out’.  But there are still machine guns

on the border.  I took a picture of the family.  Kevin informed me I would be wise to find a better hotel.  Why? Because my fancy hotel had never informed

me that Breakfast was included in the bill…I had been skipping breakfast or just having another meat pie just to save Huntec and Dr. Paterson some 

money.  My stupidity I guess.  Hotel was so high class  that nn one spoke to me at all.  ‘Snob hotel’

What wonderful people…Kevin and Ronnie Behan.  They sort of adopted me for my stay in Dublin.  Their oldest, Yvonne, was  really

a little charmer.  She was so glad to see me each visit that her greetings made me feel embarrassed.  The Behans made such

an impression that Marjorie and I named  our first born Kevin.

June 6, 1960

Today is a national holiday in Ireland.   Took a bus to Malahide and walked back to hotel.  A farmer struck up a conversation in which he said

“Irish people are the laziest people on the earth”…strange comment, perhaps  made as a joke or maybe to draw out an anti-Irish comment from me.

Got caught in deluge of rain while walking to Kevin’s house.  Soaked.  Yvonne and family very glad to see me.  Sincere.  Took a drive to the North Harbour

which was charming except for the fact some man committed suicide there.  Went to a pub then returned to the Behan  home for ’tea’ which  is a misnomer

for a full supper…then watched BBC television for a while before taking whole family to the movie ‘Who Was That Lady’

On Kevin’s advice I made plans to move to the Hollybrook Hotel in Clontarf…cheaper, friendly, with full breakfast.

Picked up a strange fact…Ireland has the lowest marriage rate in the world.

June 7, 1960

Received word  from McNabb and  Timins that the Ronka has arrived but no sign of the Turam.  Moved my bag to the Hollybrook Hotel

on the Howth Road … had  a nice pastoral setting and comfortable old pub kind of registration desk.  Decided to tour the Guinness  Brewery

again.  “Will you be wanting another pint, lad?” said  the man who joined the tour but did not drink.  “Temperance…call us Pioneers over here.”

Later I decided to line up at Dublin University to see the Book of Kells, an illustrated manuscript.  

The BOOK OF KELLS…

An unfortunate event happened while standing in line to see the Book of Kells.  Mostly my fault. I tapped the shoulder of the man in front of me and asked:

“Are you Irish?”

“No, Scottish…visiting.”

“Is this University secular?”

“What do  you mean by that?”…  he said  in rather angry manner

“I mean is it attached to the church or the state?”

“What do you mean by that?”…  he got more angry, I could not see why.

“Just wondered.”

“Are you Catholic?”… now he was really angry, perhaps disturbed. 

“Born Catholic but not so any more.”  Bad  comment on my part…a mistake…like waving a red flag in

front of a charging bull. 

At that remark the guy went wild.  Seemed to want a fight.  I decided best course of action was to get

the hell away from him but he followed me yelling who knows what for his accent was thick. A policeman

rescued me and advised I take a  long ride on the bus and  keep  away from throwaway comments about

religion.

Why did I say that remark…Why trigger animosity?  It was  a  mistake, of course, but I was thinking back

to the St. Skeoch legend.

 Our Skeoch relatives, ancient kind, were Catholic.  Most Scots were in the early centuries.  And there was 

a  connection with the Book of Kells and the Scottish Isle of Iona.  A misty connection…likely  false.  A connection even more ancient than

the 10th century Book of Kells.  At some point I had heard or read that St. Skeoch was one  of the 12 disciples

of St, Columba  when he left (fled?) Ireland  in the sixth century for the Scottish Island of  Iona.  At that time

the use of the term saint was loosely interpreted…i.e. without the approval  of Rome.  Was St. Skeoch one

of the twelve?  Rome had no records but there are places  in Scotland where this St. Skeoch is mentioned.

Maybe our family legend about the rescue of two boys on the Bloody fields of Bannockburn was true.  And

the St. Skeoch convent could have been a St. Skeoch monastery.   All perhaps nonsense since much relies

on hearsay.  All this was in my mind as lined up to see the Book of Kells.  Were our roots  as much Catholic

as Presbyterian. So there are the  roots of my throwaway  comment that I was  ‘born Catholic but gave it up.’

What was I really doing?  Just putting in time awaiting our high tech survey equipment.  The Book of

Kells was fascinating…a  masterpiece of art that survived the Viking raids.

The Book of Kells is one of the finest illustrated manuscripts in the world. 340 folio pages. Written in Latin and illustrated

 around 800 A.D.  when Most people could  not read.   Sometimes called the Book of Columba 

because St Columba and  subsequent Columban monks did much of the work between the sixth and ninth centuries.

Back to my Journal:  June 7, 1960

Bad weather barreling in from the sea.  Wrote a  letter to Barrie Nicholls and John Hogan.  Hogan is a geologist

representing our client. I am worried that the delay in equipment arrival will  cost the  project a lot of money.

Maye I am the only one worried…hope so . Hotel resident  Joe and Moira invited me to have a drink with them

which made for a perfect evening.

June 8, 1960

Arose late after the party last night with Joe and Moira.  Went downtown and bought field books, electric tape and signs

to alert local people to dangers of our project, particularly the base line wire and generator.  Surprised when a  cyclist

fell off his bike into the Liffey canal.  Ambulance came fast. The German sailors and officers from the Graf Spee are

in  Dublin. Since I am the only guest in the Hollybrook Hotel I feel like the lord of this ancient manor house and get

treated as such.  Nice. The expense money if going awfully fast.

John Hogan made a surprise arrival so we finally got to discuss the project.  I phoned Mrs. Behan and then went to  show

and a dance with John Hogan.  One girl at the dance must have crossed herself 40 times while praising the I.R.A.

An interesting evening.  Washed my clothes and went to bed.

June 9, 1960

UP early and had first breakfast wince I arrived in Ireland…hotel dining room.

Sent most of the gear with John Hogan who was driving down to Bummahon … the project site in western

part of County Waterford… Gave Mr. O’Brien a quick briefing the Turam operation.  Checked with Arbuckle but

Turam has still not arrived.  

John Hogan and I toured the Guinness Brewery … my third visit.  Then we had a lousy meal at the Temperance

Hotel. Then visited head office of Irish National Sweepstakes and bought 5 shillings tickets for Marjorie.  Walked

back to hotel then walked to the Behan home where kids were really cute.  Yvonne and Denise kept bringing me

corn flakes on the dog’s plate.  Yvonne  seems to like my lap.  Other kids Anella  and Murial also cute.  Then Kevin.

Ronnie (Mrs. Behan) went to Houth for a drink.  A drunk woman was entertaining if a little pathetic.  Ronnie ironed

my shirt afterwards then Kevin drove me back to the Hollybrook.

June 10, 1960

Had  big breakfast … bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes….topped off with a rack of cold toast and marmalade.  What should

I do for the rest of the day now that John Hogan has gone south?  Tour!  Dublin is a  city of wonderful smells.  Guinness

Brewery covers  over 60 acres making lots of beer.  But there is also a strong smell of cookies being baked at the Jacobs

factory.  So I followed my nose and had a tour.  250 employees mostly girls who gave me plenty of attention…including

whistling and touching.  Good time if a bit intimidating.  

The Quiet Man is great entertainment…surprised me that much of the 1920 Irish stereotypes turned  out to be real in our little world  of Bunmahon in 1960.

The Dark Time of the Tourbles was downplayed.

“Alan, do not miss the chance to see “The Quiet Man” while here in Ireland,” said Kevin and  Yvonne Behan.

So I went alone to see the film featuring John Wayne, Maureen Ohara and Barrie Fitzgerald.  What a grand movie.

My work site in Bunmahon could not possibly be as joyful and humorous as the movie but I wish it were so.

Dublin has an under class.  I noticed  and felt sorry for an old one-eyed woman who was  having bread snd tea while

I had a steak with all the trimmings.

I am picking up the Irish lingo.  Today  was described as a ‘soft’ day which means it was pouring rain.

Got an urgent message from Arbuckle, Smith and Company saying the crates had not arrived in Liverpool yet. What the

hell is going on?  They told me the crates were there the other day.

June 11, 1960

Getting better sleep now that I am having big breakfast.  Afterwards I went down to Arbuckle to pick up the part of shipment

that has arrived…i.e. the Ronka E.M. unit.  I will take it south on Monday. Sent telegram to Dr. Stam in Amsterdam and wrote

a long letter to Barrie Nichols in Canada.  My money is very short…less than 20 pounds left. Kevin asked me up to tea (i.e.supper

in Irish lingo) then Kevin took Ronnie and me to movie “Once More with Feeling” (no  good). After we took girls home Kevin took

me to meet his mother snd father…all  are in the car business.

June  12, 1960

Wind is blowing from the sea…smashing windows.  I walked to Clontarf Presbyterian Church where Rev. Moore greeted me warmly

and  asked me to join him for s few minutes in the vestry  Guest speaker was a methodist, Rev. Livingston who spoke about ‘Happy 

Harry the Hare” which sounded weird at first but made sense in the end. 

Then another day with the Behan family.  I would not intrude normally but they really made me feel so welcome that to refuse

would  be an insult.  Ronnie prepared another great meal. Yvonne was full of beans as usual…crawling all over me.  We drove

to Houth and stopped at Claremont for a couple of draughts of Guinness…back for ‘tea’ and then to the movie ‘sweet smell of success’

This was my last day in Dublin.  Sad farewell to the Behan family.

Brendon Behan and  Kevin Behan were not related.  Two very different people who shared one common wonderful trait.  They loved  people and

an afternoon in their company was an  honour.  

Kevin Behan was my host for the Dublin interlude.  He and his family opened their hearts  and doors to me.  I cannot explain why they did this except to say

the they loved people, loved Ireland and waned to share this love with a young 21 year old  kid like me.  One result was the naming of our first born child, Kevin,

in honour of Kevin Behan.  Sadly, we never told that to the Behan family.

Brendon Behan

Brendon Behan was a man of the 1950’s snd 1960’s.  He had strong opinions even as a teen ager joining

the Irish Republican Army at 14 years of age.  He was an ardent republican. Regarded the English

monarchy with disdain.  That said, he became very popular and his quick wit amused not just the Dublin Irish 

but the literary world in general.   His most famous play is titled “The Quare Fellow” which is set

in a  prison in the heart of Dublin.  “Quare” is Irish for “Queer.”   Brendon  Behan’s one liners

were quoted again and again by people with both a sense of humour and a knowledge that there

is a dark side to the human condition.

“I am a drinker with writing problems.”

“Ah, bless you sister, may all your children be bishops.”

“When I came back to Dublin I was court mortised in my absence

and sentenced to death in my absence

So I said they could shoot me in my absence.”

“There  is no such thing as bad publicity

Except your own obituary.”

“The most important things to do in the world are to

get something to eat

get something to drink

and get someone to love you.”

Monday June 13  LAST DAY IN DUBLIN

How can I best describe this day?   Like a dam that has suddenly broken free…like  A clock that is out of control  and time spins free …like a race begun once the gun is fired.

Suddenly everything speeded up and I would be gone before the sun set.

This was  be my last day in Dublin.  I did not know that.  I did not know that events would move so fast that by evening I would be in the villsge

of Bunmahon nestled  in an ancient place with the ruins of the Knockmahon mine brooding black and foreboding as the sun set.

My first view of Knockmahon where i would have adventures not forgotten in 60 years.

Events of that fine Dublin day:

Began packing at 8.30…then phoned Arbuckle…our shipment had arrived. Dr. Stam coming by air…Hogan ready to pick us up in Waterford.

time to get s haircut then caught bus to the airport…watched  KLM flight land and Dr. John  Stam cleared  customs. Briefed  him on Irish  officials I had

met…back to hotel for dinner and beer. Back to American Express…then over to see Mr. O’brien.  Took luggage to train station…first class tickets to Waterford

where John Hogan met us with his Fiat…drove to Bunmahon on the edge of the sea..passed the ruins of the Knockmahon mine standing alone on the

edge of steep cliffs that fell down to the sea.  Empty.  No  houses.  No  living things.  Then road  dipped down to the Mahon River and the village of Bunmahon

where we were to be based for the duration of the survey.  Met Mrs. Kennedy who would be our landlady and Irish ‘manageress’ … an expert on the inner

workings of this sliver of Irish  society.  Very Catholic…My room has three Christian statues and  a large picture of  Jesus with his heart showing…hangs above my bed.

Surprised to get my mail…letters from Marjorie and  some.  Jan Stam said he was pleased with my handling of the situation.  He would  be in charge from now 

on and would do the interpretation of the notes from my field book each day.  John Hogan was a geologist and the Denison Mines company.  Three of us.  But

many more will be hired.  Eventually I hired the whole village.  More of that later.

“