Month: October 2022

I only recently learned about an amazing bunch of people known as the ‘Balloon Busters’. According to historyisnowmagazine.com, ‘Balloon Busters’ were regarded as the daredevils of World War One. They were fighter pilots who specialised in flying high-risk missions behind enemy lines, destroying enemy observation balloons.

The balloons were usually filled with helium and attached to a winch by a cable. Baskets carried observers whose job it was to monitor enemy movements from a high altitude and provide vital intelligence to the troops on the ground.

They also acted as artillery spotters. From their vaulted vantage point, they could advise their troops on whether they were hitting their targets or not and instruct the gunners on necessary adjustments to improve their accuracy.

These balloons were heavily protected by anti-aircraft guns and machine guns and the infantry who were encouraged to fire at any enemy aircraft that came within range so getting close to them was a risky business. A shortage of helium in Germany meant they were often filled hydrogen instead which exploded when mixed with air and any kind of flame.

The balloons were often booby-trapped too. Straw dummies dressed in uniform were placed in the basket along with explosive charges and left at a tempting altitude for enemy fighters. When the pilots got close enough, the bombs were detonated. That made life difficult for attacking fighter pilots, so they had to get in and out quickly.

It wasn’t a job for the faint hearted and one man who took on the challenge was Major Edward Corringham “Mick” Mannock. He was a British First World War flying ace and while his exact place of birth is uncertain, some sources say he was born in Ballincollig, Co. Cork.

In an article by O’Brien Browne published in an issue of Aviation History, it was revealed that Mannock was born in Cork, Ireland, on May 24, 1887. As soon as he was old enough, he joined the British Army and as he wanted to become a pilot, he transferred to the Royal Flying Corps.

His instructor noted that Mannock was a natural flier who needed very little instruction or encouragement. He didn’t lack confidence either and when he was sent to the Western Front in April 1917, he wasn’t slow in giving advice to pilots who had been there far longer than him.

They accepted his arrogance though because he proved himself to be a skilful pilot. They were further impressed when Mannock volunteered for a strike on German observation balloons. He destroyed one and notched up his first victory of the day but later wrote in his diary: “My fuselage had bullet holes in it, one very near my head, and the wings were more or less riddled. I don’t want to go through such an experience again.”

It didn’t stop him though and he had tallied 73 victories by the end of the war. He was awarded the Military Cross (MC) and the Victoria Cross (VC) as a flight commander. In his VC citation in the London Gazette of July 18,1919 Major Mannock is described as “a highly distinguished officer who during the whole of his career in the Royal Air Force was an outstanding example of fearless courage, remarkable skill, devotion to duty and self-sacrifice which has never been surpassed.”

He gained a reputation for being ruthless and for being one of the greatest fighter pilots of the war, but he also developed a phobia about being burned to death in mid-air. Mannock became upset when he saw one of his victims catch fire on its way to the ground and from then on, he always carried a revolver with him in his cockpit and promised to shoot himself if he ever found himself in that situation.

Just days after warning a fellow pilot about the danger of flying low into ground fire, Mannock did just that. On 26 July 1918, his fighter plane was set on fire, and he was killed in action.

He took a rookie pilot, New Zealander Lt. Donald Inglis, on a mission to get his first kill on a dawn patrol. The two left the base at 5 a.m. and flew out towards the enemy lines. Mannock spotted an enemy plane on a routine reconnaissance sortie. He led Inglis into the attack and shot the plane down near the village of Lestremme.

Mannock waved to Inglis and then broke his own rule by making a couple of low passes over the burning wreckage. He dived to the crash site to view the wreckage and while crossing the trenches, the fighters were met with a massive volley of ground-fire. The engine of Mannock’s aircraft was hit and immediately caught fire and crashed behind German lines.

One account of the incident described how Mannock’s body was believed to have been found, about 250 yards from the plane wreckage although that was never proven. The implication being that he may have jumped. The body showed no gunshots, but Mannock had always said he would shoot himself first.

Inglis said they were over the German trenches when he noticed a bluish flame on Mannock’s engine cowling. The left wing then fell away and it entered a death spin into the trenches where it exploded in a ball of fire.

Initially it was thought that Major Mannock’s remains were obliterated in the fire, but it is now known that he was buried by an unknown German soldier, who later returned his notebook and other personal effect via the German Red Cross.

His grave was never found but the condition of his identity discs and the reported condition of his notebook indicate that he may have jumped or fallen from his aircraft, or that he may have even shot himself as he said he would.

I have always been a bit of a bookworm. I’ll read anything and I’ll give every book a fair chance, but I don’t have endless patience either. I’ll stick with it for a hundred pages or so but if by then I’m still struggling, I’ll chuck it to one side.

Over the years, I’d built up a decent collection and until recently, all my books were languishing in various piles in the attic gathering dust. I had planned at some stage to organise a small library for myself but like many other things, it went on the long finger. I’ll never get around to it now though because it’s too late, thanks to Covid-19.

During the various lockdowns, my wife passed her time by cleaning and tidying. When she was finished, she cleaned and tidied some more. When she’s in that kind of humour, nothing is safe and because she was always complaining about my books cluttering up the place, I knew it was only a matter of time before they got the treatment.  

With military precision, plastic bags full of books were removed from the house in the dead of night and delivered to an unidentified co-conspirator. It was a slick operation involving shadowy figures, codewords and disguises. As a result, I no longer need a library because what I’m left with would fit comfortably on top of a small coffee table, with plenty of space left for the coffee.

It was a shock at first but after some medical intervention and an appropriate period of mourning, I pulled myself together. In all honesty, some of the books were no great loss but others were priceless.

One book in particular I was anxious to hold onto, was a satirical novel I first read over forty years ago called Catch 22. It was written by American author Joseph Heller and unfortunately was one of the casualties.

The story is set in a military camp on an island off the Italian coast in the Mediterranean Sea during World War II. A young soldier named Yossarian was stationed there with the United States Air Force. The war was raging, and they lived in poor conditions surrounded by madness.

The commanding officers had little regard for the welfare of their men and were only interested in making themselves look good to their superiors to improve their promotion prospects. (There is a ring of familiarity about that.) The pilots were constantly being sent on dangerous bombing missions with instructions to capture good aerial photographs of explosions. It didn’t matter if their targets were destroyed as long as the photos were good.

The crews were told they could go home when they had completed a certain number of bombing runs, but the number of missions kept rising so no one ever got to go home. Yossarian was completely frustrated and couldn’t understand why he appeared to be the only one who understood what was going on.

He hated the idea that strangers were trying to kill him, and he didn’t want to die while trying to kill people he didn’t know either, so he stopped flying and began visiting the camp doctor, complaining of various illnesses. The doctor was a clueless alcoholic who was starting to go a bit mad.

Yossarian discovered it was possible to be discharged from military service by reason of insanity so, he claimed he was mad too. But by claiming to be insane, he was actually proving his sanity because only insane people would want to fly bombing missions in the first place. In other words, he was proving he was sane by not wanting to take part in dangerous missions, and that was what kept him flying. That was catch 22.

There were other characters in the camp too like Major Major who was so useless that he hid from his own sergeant and refused to meet anyone. He would lock the door of his office and climb out the window to avoid making decisions. (There’s that ring of familiarity again).

Then there was the Camp Chaplain who ran off and lived alone in the woods, and Captain Block, who ordered everyone to sing “The Star- Spangled Banner” before they used the salt and pepper.

It’s a great read and I was reminded of it again in 2014 when I found myself stationed in a small military camp in Famagusta on the island of Cyprus called Camp General Stefanik. It was very basic and has remained the same since it was built in 1974. That was confirmed to me one day when I met a group of visiting Swedish military guys who had been stationed there in 1974. I asked one of them what had changed since his time and after looking all around he said, “Absolutely nothing.”

It reminded me of the camp in Catch 22, so I dug out a copy and read it again and as I was working in a military environment with some great characters, I could identify more easily with those in the novel.

I had a problem with my back at one stage and the military guys decided I should see the camp doctor who was affectionately known as “Mengele”. The real, Josef Mengele, was a Nazi doctor, responsible for carrying out medical experiments in the concentration camps during WWII so I wasn’t filled with confidence when they brought me to see him. Turned out he was a nice guy.

A Liutenant Colonel from Croatia entered the office every day singing a morning greeting to everyone in operatic style. He made up the words and included all our names in the greeting. He was a lovely character, and we became good friends.

I witnessed lots of marching, saluting and patrolling, but thankfully there were no bombing runs.

I don’t like speeding and I suspect anyone who has ever worked for the emergency services will have a similar outlook. Attending to victims of serious road collisions is never easy and much of that carnage could be reduced if we all slowed down a little. I’m in favour of the enforcement of our speed limits but I’m not sure we always get it right.

I sometimes do a school run for the grand kids and every time, without fail, I see examples of driving that make my blood run cold. Anyone who makes these journeys will be familiar with the scenes outside the school gates in the morning.

Cars going in both directions, cars parked on either side of the road and in places that are clearly marked as no-parking zones, double parking, children everywhere, stepping out from behind parked cars and running to catch up with their friends.

Add the normal passing traffic to the mix, with many driving as if they are on an open road, and you have a recipe for chaos. If one of those kids suddenly breaks free of its parent or trips while running and falls into the road, those cars will have little chance to stop suddenly. In bad weather it’s even more dangerous with reduced visibility for everyone, and I have yet to see speed enforcement near any of the schools.

GoSafe vans get a lot of stick and I reckon much of that comes down to the fact the many people consider them to be in the wrong locations most of the time. The GoSafe company would probably argue that they are advised by An Garda Siochana on the areas they need to target.

According to the Garda Siochana official website, 61 new safety camera zones became operational on 26th July 2022, bringing the total number of safety camera zones nationwide to 1,373. The primary purpose of safety cameras is to reduce speed-related collisions, lessen injuries and save lives.

Safety cameras operate in areas where there is a history of speed related collisions known as speed enforcement zones. All zones are available on the Garda website and available for GPS Navigation providers to download.

An Garda Síochána has completed an updated collision analysis of the road network based on recent available collision statistics. New locations were selected following an analysis of the data acquired from fatal, serious and minor road traffic collisions and from further consideration given to locations of concern highlighted by local communities through local Garda Community engagement.

So, just to be clear, safety cameras operate in areas with a history of speed related collisions, but they can also be deployed in school safety zones and locations of concern highlighted by local communities.

There’s also an interactive map on the Garda website that enables users to zoom into their locality or any region in the country to see where safety cameras may be enforcing speed limits. By clicking on a highlighted zone, you can see how many speed-related minor injury, serious injury, and fatal collisions have occurred on that particular road.

I did that for the section of roadway near the site of what was once IFI, opposite the entrance to Cobh Golf Club to see the statistics for that area. These statistics have determined that a GoSafe van should be located there and bearing in mind that the GoSafe monitoring began in 2010, I would assume these statistics are covering a twelve-year period.

In that twelve-year period from 2010 to 2022 these are the accidents that occurred on that stretch of roadway according to official data on the interactive map: Fatal Collisions: 0.  Serious Collisions: 1. Minor Collisions: 5. Total Number of Collisions: 6. Six accidents in 12 years on the main road out of Cobh.

I fail to see how that road fits the criteria for a hot spot, but it’s a regular parking area for a GoSafe van. As you drive out of Cobh heading towards Cork, you have to accelerate up the hill towards the golf club. It’s a 60k per hour zone and as you breach the top of the hill, the speed van awaits. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

A new location in Cobh, Spy Hill, has now been added to the list of GoSafe areas. It is known locally as the Bishops Road, due to the fact that the Bishop resides there. I have never heard anybody expressing concern about this being a dangerous patch of road so, I clicked on the interactive map to see what damning statistics designated this area suitable for enforcement. The search revealed one serious collision and one minor one.

I wonder then why a road like the Tay Road for example, is not included despite numerous complaints by residents over many years about speeding. It was resurfaced a few years back by the Cork County Council and unfortunately that encouraged some drivers to treat it like a racetrack.

Originally designed to allow the horse and cart to get from one side of the island to the other, the Tay Road was never intended to cater for the volume of traffic it currently experiences. There were many accidents over the years when I lived there. My garden wall was struck by a car on one occasion and more recently a driver went through the garden wall of another property on that road.

If the statistics for that area were examined over the last twelve years, I reckon they would present a strong argument for inclusion as a GoSafe location, and I would prefer to see a speed van there rather than have it lying in wait over the brow of a hill like a sniper.

With winter coming, school safety zones might be worth considering as suitable locations too.

I retired from An Garda Siochana in May 2015, so you would think by now the trials and tribulations of that organisation wouldn’t bother me too much, but they do. I am currently out of the country and instead of lying by the pool enjoying the sun, I’m sitting in the apartment bashing the keys on my laptop.

The source of my frustration comes from the footage I viewed on social media of an incident in Cherry Orchard in Dublin where a garda patrol car was rammed by a stolen car while a crowd of onlookers clapped and cheered. Other cars could be seen driving recklessly and performing stunts to the amusement of a group of young people standing on the side-line. Fortunately, nobody was seriously hurt this time.

The incident itself wasn’t new to me. I saw plenty of it in the eighties and early nineties in Dublin and Cork. Stolen cars entertained gangs of onlookers on a regular basis back then too and I witnessed one incident where a stolen car crashed head on into a patrol car in Gurranabraher injuring both gardai. So called ‘joyriding’ was a regular activity in those days.

What really annoyed me was the official response from our authorities to that event. Garda Commissioner Drew Harris described the incident as “disgraceful” and “very concerning” and warned others not to engage in copycat activities. He said a full investigation was underway and the public order unit had been stood up.

It’s fairly obvious that the incident was “disturbing” and “very concerning” and sending in the public order unit is a reactive response that unfortunately won’t prevent this kind of thing happening again. It’s a short-term fix, not a long-term solution but not everyone has the appetite for long-term strategies.

The Taoiseach Micheal Martin had the answer though. He said, “I think more specifically there’s a multi-layered response that is required to this, in terms of both making sure we put services in and continue to add services and empower the community to deal with this from a bottom-up approach and from a community-based approach and support the gardai in terms of resources.”

He said, “The gardaí will get handle on this, they will be able to deal with this. We’ve dealt with similar episodes in the past in different locations around the country. There are ways of dealing with this, as I say, in the multi-layered way through community interventions, through supporting various services, but also then making sure the gardai have the resources, both at the community level and in terms of specialist services to deal with the issues.”

When you dig through all that waffle, what he’s actually saying is that we need to get back to basics. State and voluntary agencies need to work with the various communities to develop relationships and regain the respect and trust of the people on the ground, especially the young people.

That sounds like a plan that could work. In fact, we know for certain it could work because it’s exactly what we did in Cork back in the nineties and the noughties with great success. At least that was until the then garda commissioners, and the politicians of the day flushed it down the toilet.

Having spent the bones of twenty years in community policing, I have some idea of what’s involved in supporting communities. That model we had in place a quarter of a century ago was developed over years of trial and error and was replicated in other areas to great effect.

It was based primarily on mutual respect, but that respect didn’t just appear overnight, it was hard won. Communities had been let down previously and were slow to trust this new concept of community policing, but anti-social behaviour and crime were spiralling out of control, and people were looking for answers.

It took fifteen years or so to bring about change. Models of best practice were developed involving the community, the local authority, gardai, youth workers, community wardens and the department of justice. That resulted in youth projects for the marginalised, diversion projects for those on the verge of criminality along with other initiatives. And they worked.

The tide eventually turned thanks to the hard work and commitment of many dedicated people who had a genuine belief in what they were doing and that’s why I’m so annoyed today. All that hard work was for nothing. When the economic crash happened, the model as we knew it was discarded and since then there has been a steady decline in community engagement.

We’re seeing the consequences of that short sightedness now. The clock has been wound back twenty years and I fear there is new wave of unrest ahead and no amount of waffle will prevent it.

The Minister for Justice, Helen McEntee, said the ramming of the garda car was “absolutely unacceptable” and she wants a co-ordinated response and has already been engaging with the commissioner, local gardai, local authority, Dublin City Council to make sure there is a comprehensive response and plan in place to support the community.

She wants to make sure gardaí are working with local authorities and local communities to get to the “heart of some of these issues.” One councillor from Clondalkin, said, “We need a new approach to dealing with these kids. If there is no intervention at a very early stage, they just become lost to crime.”

I have news for her. We figured that out in the 80’s and it’s not a new approach that’s needed but a return to the old one. Ms. McEntee is far too young to remember the models we had in place back then but if she is serious about her commitment to community engagement, she should talk to the people who do.