- Joined
- Apr 14, 2019
- Messages
- 11,128
- Points
- 334
ON PARADE WITH THE F. C. A. by Hubert Glynn.
In the early summer of 1946 two of my brothers and myself joined the FCA (Forsai Cosanta Aitiul) especially for the free boots, the fun and the excitement.
I was 16 years old, Jackie 17 and Paul 15. Birth certificates were not demanded, though one was supposed to be 17 to be eligible to enlist.
We queued up in the Military barracks in Castlebar to be measured for uniforms and also issued with equipment.
Along with us were Patsy Horkan, John Mccormack, Dan O'Neill, Sam Ryan, Johnny Basquill, Paddy Rowland, Billy Gavin, Eddie Cunningham and many others of our age group.
My mother was not at all in favour of the idea but my dad said "let them go", they'll soon get corners knocked off them.
When war broke out in 1939 the Government set up a part time defence force throughout the country called the L.D.F. (Local Defence Force.)
Its job was to assist the regular army units and fire service. About 1942 a new heather green uniform, made of more durable material, was introduced,
and the name of the force was changed to Forsai Cosanta Aitiul, or the F.C.A.
As young teenagers in 1946 we looked forward to this new adventure.
After a few evenings part time training under the supervision of FCA captain Robert (Bob) Kilkelly and regular army Sgt Dinny Byrne,
we set off one Sunday morning in army lorries for Renmore Barracks in Galway for two weeks 9paid!) of full-time training.
Arriving in Renmore, we were taken in charge by two regular army N.C.O.'s Sergeant Brick and Corporal Wall,
who told us in the most colourful language what they thought of us and our pedigree.
Cpl. Wall on discovering he had three brothers on his hands loudly inquired with perfect alliteration as to why we didn't bring the whole ******** family.
After inspection, we were marched out the back gate of the barracks to a row of large wooden huts on a green area between the barracks and the stony sea shore.
Each hut slept about twenty men and the beds consisted of three wooden boards, on two low wooden trestles with a thin mattress.
The bed clothing ; two green sheets, two grey blankets and a pillow.
Each morning the the bedding had to be perfectly folded and placed neatly at the foot of the bed.
The toilets and wash house were nearby to facilitate the 300 or so new trainees from all parts of Mayo.
Having been allotted our quarters it was then on for the medical examination in groups of twenty or so we had to strip naked
and line up with nothing but an official form to cover our embarrassment.
The subsequent round of bending, poking, squeezing and coughing is best forgotten. My dad was right and there was more to come.
It was now Saturday afternoon and having eaten in the large dining hall we were free till 7 a.m. the following morning.
While some applied for late passes, five of us, including my two brothers walked about the barracks looking at the trucks and armoured cars.
While doing so we ran into a kindly army soldiers who asked us would we like to go for a spin.
With grins of delight we piled into the back of one of the open trucks which the sergeant drove out through the gate and came to a stop at a row of turf stacks.
"Right lads," he barked "out ye get and fill it up! Reluctantly, we set about the job, having discarded our jackets, it being a very warm afternoon.
Worse was to follow when we found out that we had to unload the turf at the back of the cook-house.
Afterwards, red faced and sweaty, we were about to slope off when we were invited in to have a wash and brush up.
Foolishly, we accepted. Having washed and tided ourselves up, we felt better but, not for long.
Suddenly we were handed five sets of white overalls and hats and told to set the tables in readiness for breakfast the next morning for the three hundred or so recruits.
Then to crown it all, with all the others long departed for the city "Report here tomorrow morning at 08:30 am " was the parting order we received.
Furious at being caught we tramped our way along the railway path into Galway city, arguing about what we should do.
Paul, my younger brother was deep in thought. He was always known for his shrewdness.
After a while he said " hold on lads, has anyone been asked to give their names or unit." We all shook our heads in reply.
"Right, listen, let no two of us be seen together tomorrow morning, we will go to breakfast with the rest of our unit and see what happens," he said.
After 08:00 a.m. Mass next morning we dispesed among the Castlebar group and marched back to the dining hall.
We queued up for our meal, and there dressed in white were four other "suckers" dishing out the eggs and bacon.
Monday morning on the barracks square, we began the serious practise in foot drill and marching.
Corporal Wall barked out the orders and pounced on anyone who faltered. We soon mastered the discipline, as he lashed the laggards with licentious loquacity!
(I had to look that bit up. How Brother Leo God rest him, would have loved it.)
In other words, we responded quickly to the earthy directions of our instructor.
The corporal took one difficult recruit who would not respond to his commands to the back of the nearest building
and to the recruit's surprise Cpl. Wall said to him "look you are only here for two weeks and my job is to train you so that you will look god when you return home,"
"Now how about a little help? and we'll get on much better together, the corporal concluded.
It worked so well that the same guy became an expert marksman and helped our unit win many a shooting competition.
Later we moved on to rifle drill, the use of hand grenades, camouflage, estimating distances and how to set sights on a target.
One morning on the barracks square, Cpl. Wall was instructing us on how to fix bayonets.
Each one fully equipped with helmet, rifle, ammunition belt and sheathed bayonet, had in turn to snap to attention,
then march smartly out six paces, turn left face the corporal, fix bayonet on the rifle, snap to attention again and march back into line.
An exercise that had to be carried out with flair and pleanty banging of boots.
Now it so happened that one of the group Sammy Ryan had been issued with a pair of boots a size too large.
His mother put cardinal red polish on another pair of boots which were originally black in colour and had rubber soles.
When Sam's turn came, with all the noise and commands being shouted all over the square, Sam seemed to glide gently out, fix his bayonet and float quietly back into line.
For once the corporal was speechless. "Do that again" he said. Sam with a sheepish grin on his face, once more came to attention, did his "miracle walk on water"
and returned to his place in line.
Corporal Wall held Sam with a wicked eye. We waited in silence, then it came "A ******* monk" he roared. We fell about the place with laughter.
Afterwards the corporal proved a most tolerant and supportive instructor and we returned home a much wiser group, with a confidence that was to stand to us,
when in later years we faced into more advanced courses.
SOURCE - CASTLEBAR PARISH MAGAZINE 2004.
In the early summer of 1946 two of my brothers and myself joined the FCA (Forsai Cosanta Aitiul) especially for the free boots, the fun and the excitement.
I was 16 years old, Jackie 17 and Paul 15. Birth certificates were not demanded, though one was supposed to be 17 to be eligible to enlist.
We queued up in the Military barracks in Castlebar to be measured for uniforms and also issued with equipment.
Along with us were Patsy Horkan, John Mccormack, Dan O'Neill, Sam Ryan, Johnny Basquill, Paddy Rowland, Billy Gavin, Eddie Cunningham and many others of our age group.
My mother was not at all in favour of the idea but my dad said "let them go", they'll soon get corners knocked off them.
When war broke out in 1939 the Government set up a part time defence force throughout the country called the L.D.F. (Local Defence Force.)
Its job was to assist the regular army units and fire service. About 1942 a new heather green uniform, made of more durable material, was introduced,
and the name of the force was changed to Forsai Cosanta Aitiul, or the F.C.A.
As young teenagers in 1946 we looked forward to this new adventure.
After a few evenings part time training under the supervision of FCA captain Robert (Bob) Kilkelly and regular army Sgt Dinny Byrne,
we set off one Sunday morning in army lorries for Renmore Barracks in Galway for two weeks 9paid!) of full-time training.
Arriving in Renmore, we were taken in charge by two regular army N.C.O.'s Sergeant Brick and Corporal Wall,
who told us in the most colourful language what they thought of us and our pedigree.
Cpl. Wall on discovering he had three brothers on his hands loudly inquired with perfect alliteration as to why we didn't bring the whole ******** family.
After inspection, we were marched out the back gate of the barracks to a row of large wooden huts on a green area between the barracks and the stony sea shore.
Each hut slept about twenty men and the beds consisted of three wooden boards, on two low wooden trestles with a thin mattress.
The bed clothing ; two green sheets, two grey blankets and a pillow.
Each morning the the bedding had to be perfectly folded and placed neatly at the foot of the bed.
The toilets and wash house were nearby to facilitate the 300 or so new trainees from all parts of Mayo.
Having been allotted our quarters it was then on for the medical examination in groups of twenty or so we had to strip naked
and line up with nothing but an official form to cover our embarrassment.
The subsequent round of bending, poking, squeezing and coughing is best forgotten. My dad was right and there was more to come.
It was now Saturday afternoon and having eaten in the large dining hall we were free till 7 a.m. the following morning.
While some applied for late passes, five of us, including my two brothers walked about the barracks looking at the trucks and armoured cars.
While doing so we ran into a kindly army soldiers who asked us would we like to go for a spin.
With grins of delight we piled into the back of one of the open trucks which the sergeant drove out through the gate and came to a stop at a row of turf stacks.
"Right lads," he barked "out ye get and fill it up! Reluctantly, we set about the job, having discarded our jackets, it being a very warm afternoon.
Worse was to follow when we found out that we had to unload the turf at the back of the cook-house.
Afterwards, red faced and sweaty, we were about to slope off when we were invited in to have a wash and brush up.
Foolishly, we accepted. Having washed and tided ourselves up, we felt better but, not for long.
Suddenly we were handed five sets of white overalls and hats and told to set the tables in readiness for breakfast the next morning for the three hundred or so recruits.
Then to crown it all, with all the others long departed for the city "Report here tomorrow morning at 08:30 am " was the parting order we received.
Furious at being caught we tramped our way along the railway path into Galway city, arguing about what we should do.
Paul, my younger brother was deep in thought. He was always known for his shrewdness.
After a while he said " hold on lads, has anyone been asked to give their names or unit." We all shook our heads in reply.
"Right, listen, let no two of us be seen together tomorrow morning, we will go to breakfast with the rest of our unit and see what happens," he said.
After 08:00 a.m. Mass next morning we dispesed among the Castlebar group and marched back to the dining hall.
We queued up for our meal, and there dressed in white were four other "suckers" dishing out the eggs and bacon.
Monday morning on the barracks square, we began the serious practise in foot drill and marching.
Corporal Wall barked out the orders and pounced on anyone who faltered. We soon mastered the discipline, as he lashed the laggards with licentious loquacity!
(I had to look that bit up. How Brother Leo God rest him, would have loved it.)
In other words, we responded quickly to the earthy directions of our instructor.
The corporal took one difficult recruit who would not respond to his commands to the back of the nearest building
and to the recruit's surprise Cpl. Wall said to him "look you are only here for two weeks and my job is to train you so that you will look god when you return home,"
"Now how about a little help? and we'll get on much better together, the corporal concluded.
It worked so well that the same guy became an expert marksman and helped our unit win many a shooting competition.
Later we moved on to rifle drill, the use of hand grenades, camouflage, estimating distances and how to set sights on a target.
One morning on the barracks square, Cpl. Wall was instructing us on how to fix bayonets.
Each one fully equipped with helmet, rifle, ammunition belt and sheathed bayonet, had in turn to snap to attention,
then march smartly out six paces, turn left face the corporal, fix bayonet on the rifle, snap to attention again and march back into line.
An exercise that had to be carried out with flair and pleanty banging of boots.
Now it so happened that one of the group Sammy Ryan had been issued with a pair of boots a size too large.
His mother put cardinal red polish on another pair of boots which were originally black in colour and had rubber soles.
When Sam's turn came, with all the noise and commands being shouted all over the square, Sam seemed to glide gently out, fix his bayonet and float quietly back into line.
For once the corporal was speechless. "Do that again" he said. Sam with a sheepish grin on his face, once more came to attention, did his "miracle walk on water"
and returned to his place in line.
Corporal Wall held Sam with a wicked eye. We waited in silence, then it came "A ******* monk" he roared. We fell about the place with laughter.
Afterwards the corporal proved a most tolerant and supportive instructor and we returned home a much wiser group, with a confidence that was to stand to us,
when in later years we faced into more advanced courses.
SOURCE - CASTLEBAR PARISH MAGAZINE 2004.
