My uncle always had a deep interest in Irish history, and as a child he’d always tell me stories of our family. He’d scour the records to find another tale to tell of what those who came before me went through. This aging and discoloured document was one such record. A transcript of my great grandfather’s military pension application, and all the memories he had to lay bare to prove he deserved it.
Proving Yourself for a Pension
My great grandfather, Luke Darling, served in the Irish Republican Army, as it was known back then. At the time, from 1916 up until 1923 it wasn’t an official army but a ragtag group of guerilla fighters, vying to earn Ireland’s independence from Britain’s exploitation. Because of this, when Ireland established a true independent government, there weren’t any official records of who had served. So for those who had fought for Ireland’s freedom, they had to convince the government that they really had enlisted and deserved the military pension for their sacrifices. A process which for many, proved to be an uncomfortable recount of very recent trauma.
I will never truly know how he felt about being forced to relive those memories, but being able to preserve them in this way has taught me so much about what reality was like for the Irish people during such a turbulent time. It was an era marked by contrast, of the duality between gigantic changes in Irish government, society and culture, and the ordinary people just trying to survive in the meantime. Of the cycle of violence and reprisal, and the civilians either caught in the crossfire or trying their best to ignore it.
Acquaintances, Not Allies
There’s one story in particular that always stood out to me from this record, that truly illustrated the dichotomy in this period between mundane and banal ordinary life, and the very extraordinary history being made simultaneously. In the latter half of 1917, and throughout 1918, Luke Darling frequently visited a pub in Merrion Square in Dublin with his commander Lieutenant Price. This wouldn’t be so unusual if it weren’t for the fact that they visited this pub to meet and socialise with British soldiers, despite being on opposite sides of the war for independence.
Not only would they talk and drink together like regular friends would, these British soldiers would also sell weapons to them, with the sale of at least 5 revolvers being recorded in this transcript. This is not the type of behaviour you expect to see between enemy troops, but reading this tale only enhanced the tragedy of the war for me. These men didn’t want to fight each other, and wouldn’t have if they had the choice. The British soldiers needed the military salary, and were clearly desperate enough for cash that they would sell weapons to the enemy, while the Irish troops were fighting for the right to have a properly democratic government, which we failed to achieve through peaceful means.
These soldiers would meet in a crowded bar every week, share drinks and stories, laugh and smile together, all with the knowledge that they might have to turn their guns on each other one day. That was the reality of this time for Ireland. Everyone was just trying their best to live a normal life, despite the extraordinary circumstances surrounding them.
A Message for a Modern era?
So I hope that one day, sometime in the future, I can take this document and tell its tales to the youth, like my uncle did to me, to teach them the catastrophe of conflict, and the reality of warfare. Although Ireland secured its freedom, and my great grandfather was awarded a sum of money now worth around 650 euro, you could consider his experience to have been successful in the end. However, I can’t help but wonder, if I was able to ask him now, after all that happened during the conflict, did he miss those British soldiers when the war was finally over?
