by Joe Power
Recruitment poster by Hely’s Dublin, c. 1915.
(Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)
The Western Front between 1914 and 1918.
(Map from the Peadar McNamara collection)
That afternoon the band members were entertained to tea by the ladies of the County Clare Belgian Refugees Committee at the Ordnance House. That evening the band played some more national airs followed by some more speeches urging recruitment. Lt Hall warned that if the Huns were victorious then Ireland’s churches and convents would be desecrated like those in Belgium; her priests would be murdered and her nuns, women and children would be ‘outraged’. Ireland, he said, had responded to the call, but, he said that the farmer class and the shop assistants were not represented among the ranks as they ought to be. The recruitment evening concluded with a fireworks display.
In the meantime, the propaganda campaign was subtly pursued by letters and poems in the papers. Revd R. Ross Lewin, a Protestant from Fortfergus, who was minister at Spanish Point, wrote a poem that was published in the Clare Journal in June:
The Lament of Dromindhuth
Why leave all the fighting to others,
who hold neither land nor demesne?
Not thus is the old Banner County
Under Brian they drove out the Dane.
Shall the homes that we love by the Shannon,
And the freedom these islands have won,
be left at the mercy tomorrow
of the villainous barbarous Hun?
No, no old black Dromin in horror,
Will utter these words of reproof,
There were men in the days now departed,
Who lived beneath old Dromindhuth.
There were men by the glades Gurtnacurra,
Liscormack and banks of Rusheen,
And Dysart, sweet village by Fergus,
By Coolteenagown and Coolmeen.
There were men like the grand Hugh O’Donnell,
There were men like the brave Owen Roe,
But slackers and shirkers from battle,
Ne’er did old black Dromin know.
R.R.L.
Note, Dromindhuth or Little Black Mountain, is near Kildysart and the other names are in the immediate vicinity.
‘From Somewhere in France’
One letter published in the Clare Journal of 13 May was written by Bombardier John O’Donoghue of the 61st Battery Royal Field Artillery from the frontline in France addressed to his mother in Clare Castle. He described the cruelty of the Germans who, he said, had no respect for the dead, even bombing cemeteries and soldiers burying their dead comrades:
One of the cruellest incidents of the war happened yesterday. One of our gunners was sent back from the firing line to bring our letters from the supply depot. On his way back he was killed by a shrapnel shell. I was one of a party sent to bury him and we had to take him to a cemetery near a big town. Just as we were approaching the gate four big shells came tearing through the air and burst right in the burial ground sending tombstones flying into the air. A civilian and his horse were killed and several of our men were wounded. I dropped flat on the ground with several others and this probably saved us from the flying fragments of shell. We had hardly recovered from this shock when I could hear another salvo of shells coming through the air. At this time I had hold of the stretcher with another man and was trying to get under cover with the poor corpse when crash came the shells. This time I thought I must get hit as fragments flew all round us. But God spoke before the Germans. He was protecting the bearers of the dead.
They continued to shell the graveyard and we had to postpone the burial until nightfall. We were all sent back to our lines, except six men left behind as a burial party, and amongst those was the dead man’s “best pal”, as we say in the army, who remained to pay a last token of respect to his old pal. Well at six o’clock, pm, they took the body to the cemetery and were putting the last sod on the grave when they heard the buzzing sound that there was no mistaking. They all dropped flat, except the dead man’s pal, who ran to take shelter under the wall, but he was too late. The shells burst, a piece struck him and he was dead. Today we buried them side by side with his friend – “pals” in death as in life. Such tragic incidents happen out here every day.
Churches and convents are everywhere levelled to the ground. I am proud to see by the papers that our countrymen are doing their share at this critical time. The more that give a hand, the sooner the war will be over. I would like you to have a Mass said for me by the friars and ask everyone to pray for the poor soldiers who are facing death every moment and giving their lives for the cause of liberty and justice.
This ‘cruelty’ from the Germans was also highlighted in a Report of the French Commission of Inquiry into the conduct of the Germans in France, which was published in the British press and copied by the local press in an article headed ‘KULTUR’:
Murder and rape and torture in which have been spared neither age nor sex have marked the progress of the German army … bestial atrocities … the work of devils in human form … The blood of our martyred allies calls to us for vengeance. Let every man who is fit and of military age answer the call in the firing line … Let us see to it that our reply is worthy of a great nation in arms for a splendid cause.
Another newspaper article cited a report in a journal called The Architect in the issue of 25 February, which described the Romanesque abbey of Hastiere near Dinant in Belgium, where ‘the Huns murdered the abbot’. Such publicity was blatantly propagandist in tone and was widely published to assist recruitment into the British Army.
However, other letters to the press may have helped to boost the morale of the people at home who would be re-assured that the spiritual welfare of men was been helped by brave Catholic chaplains, who also faced death at the front. Bowman wrote, ‘Many officers in the Irish regiments at least in the beginning of the war requested that their units be allocated Catholic chaplains. The Catholic chaplain could accompany his men right up to the firing line, whereas the Anglican chaplain was not officially permitted to go beyond base camp. This rule was relaxed in 1916, but the troops continued to label Anglican clergymen as ‘cowards’.10
The Last Blessing of the Munsters at Rue de Bois, 9 May 1915, by Fortunio Matania. (Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)
Fr Gwynn, SJ
One of the Catholic chaplains was Fr J. Gwynn, SJ. A chaplain with the Irish Guards, he sent a letter to a friend, Dr Garry, Trinaderry House, Barefield, which was published in the Clare Journal of 13 May 1915, describing his experiences as a chaplain at the front line. Fr Gwynn was wounded by a bomb blast and by gas from the shell. His account highlights the dangers to which the Catholic chaplains were exposed. Fr Gwynn’s letter also shows the importance of meeting the spiritual needs of the Catholic soldiers, and indeed soldiers of all religions, when they were facing death on a daily basis. The presence of the chaplains and the availability of the sacraments of Confession, Holy Communion and Extreme Unction at the front line and in no man’s land were of great comfort to the soldiers, who were about to go over the top into no-man’s land, and presumably to their families in Ireland.
… On the day the Irish Guards took the brickstacks and trenches at Cuinchy, I knew there was going to be an attack and there would be casualties, so I stayed near … I am writing this in a little cellar under a graveyard. It is about 150 yards from the German lines … our furniture consists of a bundle of straw in the corner, where I sleep at night. Everyone here has a cellar or dugout as the Germans are constantly shelling us. As I write they are sending over big shells known as ‘Jack Johnsons ‘ or ‘Black Marias’. They are firing all sorts of shells today, little fizz bags that come with a rush, give no warning, and don’t do much damage, unless there is a direct hit; then ordinary shrapnel bursting in the air and scattering some 300 bullets over 50 or 60 square yards; high explosive shrapnel, which burst with terrific force and cover a much larger area; percussion shells, from 5.9 inch
to 8 inch, which simply blow a house into the air. As I write this there are big fellows screaming over my head with terrific force 40 or 50 yards away.
When in the trenches I see any wounded man immediately he’s hit and give him the last sacraments. Then I hear the Confessions of the men in the trenches or their dug-outs. I can tell you it is easy to have contrition when the air is simply alive with bullets and shrapnel. At any moment if a shell dropped it would be all over for priest and penitent. Then a day we get a rest and we go back a mile or so from the firing line.
This morning I say Mass in the field for the battalion … We have to have Mass in the field as the Irish Guards are nearly all Catholics and we are at present the strongest battalion in the Guards Brigade. The men then sing their hymns at Mass and it is fine to hear nearly a thousand men singing out in the open at the top of their voices. You have no idea what a splendid battalion the Irish Guards are. You have Sgt Mike O’Leary (VC) with you, I often had a chat with him … but you know there are plenty of men in the Irish Guards who have done as bravely as Mike O’Leary and there is never a word about it.
Pray for me, if anything happens pray for me too, I often think they will get me … At breakfast I was called to assist a wounded Coldstream Guards soldier, it was a wet bleak, muddy morning and when I got to the place I found the poor fellow lying out in the open at the back of our trenches in a very exposed spot, the Germans were not more than 70 yards away. I crawled out flat to him and he was still alive and I gave him the Last Sacraments. He was absolutely unconscious. I crawled back again, the Germans had one shot at me, but missed badly … I was very glad to get back.
I was going back down the Coldstream Guards advanced trench, when an Irish Guardsman, all perspiring and muddy, came after me shouting that one our men named Ryan had been wounded and wanted to see me. I found that the poor fellow had been shot through the lung and was badly wounded. I heard his Confession, gave him Extreme Unction and saw him off to hospital. When I gave him Extreme Unction it was extraordinary how cheerful he got.
I had to go off then to bury a poor Irish Guardsman named Murrin, who had been shot during the day. Going a mile seems very simple to you at home, but here it means dodging bullets, a shell bursting now and again – when you hear a shell coming all you have to do is to lie flat on the ground, be it wet muddy or dry, and not mind your clothes and wait until it bursts – if you get down quickly enough you may escape, unless it falls directly on top of you.
Wednesday, just finished Mass and some hundreds of the Guardsmen were at it … While we were at Mass a shell passed over us and burst a short distance beyond. The men did not stir … I am sending you the brass noses of two German shells which burst quite near me … This morning I saw Ryan, the Irish Guardsman who was shot through the lung – he had a narrow escape … He said to me: “You can tell the Germans, your reverence that they are not done with Joe Ryan yet!”…
A soldier named ‘Mack’ wrote an anonymous letter from ‘somewhere in France’ to his former teacher in West Clare describing the awful conditions in the trenches during the battle of Hooge. What was surprising about this letter was that it shows that the author was highly critical of the strategy of trench warfare; he questioned the tactics of the army leadership and wondered if the huge sacrifices made by the soldiers were worth it. The censors in the army, or those controlling the media in Ireland, must not have noticed this letter, which was published in the Saturday Record of 11 September 1915. It would not have encouraged recruitment and it is surprising that the letter was published in the Saturday Record, which was very supportive of the war effort:
… Well in that particular advance on Hooge, one regiment went too far ahead and the enemy caught it on its front and both sides, with the result that the fine body of men, numbering 1,000, had to retire, losing roughly about 800 men. This was somebody’s fault, but that somebody could not be brought to account for it, as he was among the dead himself. See what a little mistake or carelessness can do.
Now the thing is over, thank God; the new trenches are being held, but when you look around and see the number of lives that were lost for the sake of gaining about 900 yards of ground, you ask yourself was it worth it. As far as all the poor fellows who have been killed are concerned, it does not matter to them. I hope they are happy, but how many hundreds of wives, fathers, brothers, mothers, brothers and sisters are mourning the loss of the men who have been cut down in the prime of manhood, and the many hundreds of homes in Ireland, England, Scotland and Wales that are silently bearing pain today?
… We are doing our best to bury them at night time, but we are not given a chance, and the Germans keep continually firing at us. I have been through it all, and I say this from my heart, that if there is a hell, the worst department of that ‘shop’ around here is around Ypres. The smell is terrible; we are all deaf, bothered, stupid, to put the whole thing into a nutshell for you. I was lucky; I’ve had two very narrow escapes. I have tried to tell you about the Hooge affair. It will just give you an idea of what driving them out of France and Belgium means. I have so much to tell you. I do not know where to commence and I am in an awful hurry. Will you kindly let me know when you receive this letter?
Your old friend, “Mack”
Pte O’Leary of the Connaught Rangers, who was recuperating from wounds at Le Havre, sent a letter to a friend in Ennis, which was published in the local press:
I am now out of hospital and am at the base of operations, but I don’t know whether I will be at the front or not, as there is a bullet still in my side and the muscles are badly injured. I am out of hospital since before Christmas and I met a lot of chaps from Ennis going up to the front. They are leaving in thousands from here every day for the front. Let me know if Jack [a brother] was killed, as a chap of the Leinsters told me he was killed on Xmas Eve. He was in the Maxim gun section. I would be glad if you send a paper, we don’t get any here. This war is fearful slaughter and I hope it will be over soon.
Dr Meagher, Royal Army Medical Corps, sent a letter from ‘somewhere in France’ to Revd Fr Meagher, CC Killaloe. Though he was optimistic of final victory, the scene he describes is rather depressing.
You might like to hear from me. I am precluded by the censor from giving my exact location. My address is the Field Ambulance 7th Infantry.
I am right in the thick of it now in charge of the stretcherbearers and located at a wayside inn about 700 or 800 yards behind our trenches. We take out the wounded every night, picking them out at a fixed point behind the trenches. This we do at dusk when there is only casual sniping. At present we are bombarding the Germans, some 400 guns being engaged in the work. The inn where I now write lies in a battery of five guns not more than 500 yards away. As you may imagine the din is indescribable. Of course this fire attracts the attention of the Germans to us, which they send in the shape of shells.
… As to the progress of the war you can form a better opinion than we can. We are only a very small part of the line and we can see very little of what is going on elsewhere.
Anyhow we are making progress and it will be slow, but I think there will be no doubt about the issue. We cannot hope for any respite now. The allies have now begun to put the pressure on, to continue with unrelenting crescendo until the Germans go under. I expect to be well employed and continuously so for months.
This poor country shows its great wounds like the dead Caesar pleading for revenge. You see old women – who have seen and known God knows what outrages – strolling around deserted houses stupefied, mumbling and shaking their heads. The pretty villages are felled … the whole country is bleeding … If that is the case here, what must it be in Belgium? I cannot give you any continuous description of things under the present circumstances … the noise, the turmoil and the interruptions make that impossible …
I sleep at present in my everyday clothes, booted and helmeted, ready for the fray. It is gloriously exciting – but when you see the slain, who die young, its miserable �
�� damnable!
The play is the tragedy, man …
Meanwhile, the recruitment campaign at home was vigorously promoted in the towns of Clare such as Kilrush. Here there was a large meeting in the town square, with patriotic speeches by Sir Michael O’Loghlen HML and others. These meetings were colourful occasions with flags and banners and the band playing national airs. There were emotional appeals to the fighting spirit of the young men of West Clare to ‘do their duty’ and fight for the honour of Ireland.11
A Viceregal Tour
Later in the year, towards the end of August, the Viceroy, Lord Wimborne, toured County Clare on a recruitment campaign, visiting Ennis, Kilrush, Kilkee, Miltown Malbay, Lahinch and Ennistymon. He and his wife came by train to Ennis and then went on a motorcade tour. Everywhere he went, the viceroy was given a loyal reception and a warm Irish welcome.
Kilrush was en fete for the occasion, gaily decorated with union jacks and bunting. One streamer on the platform in the square had the words : ‘Down with the Huns!’; the principal streets of the town were planted with trees and shrubs for the occasion; the Kilrush Brass and Reed Band played ‘God save the king’ a couple of times, as well as national and some martial airs to entertain the aristocratic visitors and the huge crowd. The chairman of Kilrush UDC, Mr Culligan, welcomed Baron Wimborne to Kilrush and said that he was pleased to announce that ‘our town, though small in number, has subscribed over 400 of her sons to the colours, though some have fallen in battle.’ Mr Culligan also promoted the interests of Kilrush and district by suggesting that Kilrush and the Shannon Estuary would make an ideal naval base for the British fleet during and after the war.