By Michael Breslin
'The Way We Were in Fermanagh in World War 11 and the 1940's', John Cunningham's latest book, is supposed to reproduce the contrasting way in which the war was covered in this paper and in the 'Impartial Reporter'.
It does that, of course, but it also represents a riproaring read, gleaned from the pages of both local newspapers, of the things that people to up to here. To recreate them in a play would be deemed by the critics as a playwright's fancy, but they are all authentic incidents, a lot of them relating to people's favourite pastime in those days, smuggling.
Open any page, as this reviewer did, at page 189, and we are introduced to a named intrepid Newtownbutler lady who was fined £5 at the local Court for selling eggs that weren't produced by her hens. Evidence was given that, when Police called at her home, they found her sitting beside her bed, 'clocking' (hatching) 30 dozen eggs under her and 34 more dozen under the bed.
Readers will be aware of the part played by Fermanagh in the war effort, from fund-raising to buy provisions for the troops to locating flying boats at Castle Archdale. They patrolled the Atlantic, one of them spotting the 'Bismarck', the pride of the German Navy on 26th may, 1941 and tipping off the RAF.
The author estimates that during the six years of the war (1939-450, some 300,000 military personnel passed through the North, and that 27 airfields, including St Angelo, were built, 'chiefly by the Americans'.
One of the papers relates how the 'Yanks' were a big hit with the local girls whom they cheerfully addressed as, 'Ha'yah honey': 'They chew gum and smoke 'Camel' cigarettes. Their wages are anything from £15 to £60 per week, and the higher paid live in hotels. They have grapefruit for breakfast, and apples and oranges are plentiful'.
But, the paper's admiration ended there, the journalist noting that whereas British Tommies and RAF personnel saluted whenever a funeral cortege passed by, the American soldiers took no notice. By contrast, the 'Herald' records, with obvious pride, how those same Yanks dutifully respected American Mothers Day at morning Mass in St Michael's, Enniskillen. The celebrant, a Columban, certainly had a missionary input, telling the GI's that by attending in such huge numbers, they had demonstrated their love for their mothers.
'You can do it again', he tells them, 'by receiving Holy Communion for your mothers' intentions'.
Mr Cunningham explains that both local papers were limited in what they could print, a form of 'editorial black-out', but that did not stop them from carrying regular bulletins of the numbers killed in this attack or that attack. It certainly did not deter poignant mention of local servicemen who were reported missing in action or a POW, or, at the extreme end, their deaths relayed to their families via the cold, concise Ministry of War telegram.
It was a hectic time in Fermanagh for those charged with maintaining law and order, for not only had they to scout around for anyone with a light on in their home after curfew, there was the ongoing IRA threat. In the South, De Valera answered that in the firmest way possible, by a mixture of the firing party and internment. For the record, the blackout came into effect in Enniskillen on 1st September, 1939 and, we are told by one of the papers, it was a godsend for lovers in that they didn't have to walk a mile or two to get away from the town lights!
The onset of war, of course, ushered in mass evacuation from vulnerable areas, with Fermanagh allocated 6,500 children, although not all that number eventually arrived. Mind you, the 'Herald' had its own opinion about them, recalling how a group of these young evacuees spat on the footpath at east Bridge Street in front of two nuns.
Strangely, life went on as usual, on the farm, at the marts, in parochial houses where parish priests fulminated against rowdy behaviour at dances, and, above all, on and off the GAA playing field. For instance, in August, 1939, Sean Maguire, the County Board secretary resigned in protest at the then President of Newtownbutler GFC, Canon Maguire, refusing to accept the Board's decisions.
The recurrent surprising feature, given the paucity of motor cars, is the number of road deaths in the county and, in more than one instance, pedestrians died as a result of a collision with a bicycle. In November, 1939, an 81-year Florencecourt man who was out and about at midnight was such a victim. The paper described him as the first victim of the blackout.
Equally surprisingly for what was then an exclusively Nationalist paper, the 'Herald' didn't hold back in describing major WW2 hits on the Allies side, including the torpedoing of the 'Royal Oak' at Scapa Flow with the loss of 833 lives. Only 375 matelots survived.
This benign attitude may have been influenced by the fact that, in Enniskillen at least, Catholics matched non-Catholics in signing up for Army service. For instance, by the end of October, 1939, 70 recruits had signed up, 68 Catholics and 2 Protestants.
There was real frost and snow those days. In January, 1940, two soldiers from Garrison skated all the way from Enniskillen to Belleek, although, in Enniskillen town, two sisters drowned as they slid across the ice in the River Erne at the bottom of Market Street. The ice gave way.
But, people's creativity lightened the gloom. In March, 1940, residents of Roslea were astonished to see a large, black donkey parade the streets. Nothing unusual about that, save that it had the letters, 'IRA' painted on its flank, and its nose and tail painted white, 'in a similar manner to that prescribed for motor vehicles during black-out'.
Indeed, Fermanagh started having its own war heroes, among them Pilot Officer Kenneth McKenzie, from Lakeview, Enniskillen. He received the DFC (distinguished flying cross) for destroying five enemy aircraft in one week.
We are told that, at its height, the cost to the Allies of pursuing the war was running at £12m a day. In the end, it won out, lading to the death of Hitler in May, 1945 and the public hanging of his friend, Mussolini and 17 members of his Italian Cabinet.
Back in Fermanagh, it was a case, literally and emotionally, of withdrawal symptoms as the Yanks got ready to go back home. 'The women of Enniskillen', the Impartial tells us, 'are in a bad state. What will they do. My suggestion to the married women is they entertain their husbands and, to the single women: marry a Fermanagh man'.
Already, 'coming home' parties were being organised for released prisoners of war, each man getting £10 at a do in Kesh. But, the Yanks had the last word: their government insisted that its airbase at Castle Archdale be kept open.
This book, 'The Way We Were in Fermanagh in World War11 and the 1940's: The Golden Years of Smuggling?' is simply a 'must buy'.
