An Cosantóir

www.military.ie THE DEFENCE FORCES MAGAZINE | 27 sea could come in and rebound off the cliffs, making the situation even worse. The forms we had to fill in after catching a trawler inside the limits were confusing. We weren't allowed to arrest any vessel; instead, the forms were sent to headquarters, but that was the last we heard of them. About a dozen trawlers were caught, but none were ever prosecuted. One day in Haulbowline, a trawler skipper approached us, intoxicated. "We don't give a damn for this ship of yours," he muttered. "We could run away from you at any time." "I don't doubt that," I replied, "but could you run away from that pretty little gun on the fo'c'sle? It has a range of six miles, and my men are good shots—even if they're not experts. They might, without intending, land a shot right on target." That sobered him up, and he walked away, deep in thought. I didn't mention that we didn't have a single shell to fire from that gun. On one visit to Haulbowline, naval recruits and ship personnel had to submit to two hours of physical drill every afternoon. We had to jump over barrels, stand on one leg for long periods, and twist the other leg out of its socket. We also had to do an exercise where we had to lie on a couch with our heads touching the wall, then lift our legs to touch our toes to the wall. Watching a group of stout, middle- aged men trying to do this was like a comedy act. Things on the island were improving, but the jealousy between the army and the navy was just as rampant here as in any other country. The commanding officer was an army man, and the army outnumbered the navy. Moreover, our Captain Superintendent lacked tact, making relations between the army and navy tense. Then came mandatory language training. We had to learn how to speak, read, and write Gaelic from a local teacher. We had to repeat what she wrote on the blackboard, and not a single sentence was translated into English. Like an Oxford don thinking in green, we were expected to think in Gaelic. For a while, with enthusiasm at its peak, we jabbered away in what we believed was Gaelic. My next job was to tow a sloop from Limerick back to Haulbowline after it broke down. I was surprised that being assigned the job caused a great deal of jealousy, even though any of the skippers would have been welcomed to it. Just after Christmas, we received orders to return to Haulbowline. Upon arrival, rumours circulated that the entire service was to be demobilized. With shipping in a dire state, the outlook was grim. Many of us had given up relatively steady jobs, and those with pilot licenses found them expired during the service. After six weeks of waiting, we learned that our services would be dispensed with after ten days. At the end of that period, we were all paid off. We received a letter thanking us for our services to the country, but it did little to dispel the bitterness we felt." Conclusion After compiling this article, I am left wondering why this service was established in the first place. By May 1923, the Civil War was effectively over, so gun-running no longer seemed to be a pressing issue. As for having a fleet to protect the fisheries, Captain Murphy's observations are worth noting: the vessels had no real means of making arrests, were too slow, and the captains were not permitted to arrest any vessels. The Free State authorities were also under pressure from the British authorities, a point supported by Captain Murphy's observation regarding the lack of prosecutions. From the outset, the service faced morale and discipline problems, which is not expected from a force intended to be permanent. Complaints from Dáil deputies about recruiting practices and suggestions of jobbery were frequent. Captain Murphy's recollections also highlight that the rank structure appeared to be of little relevance, as evidenced by his comments on drill sessions. Perhaps the powers that be misread the need for the service but, later on, found themselves too deeply involved to shut it down abruptly. Financial stringency eventually forced its closure. Even now, one's heart goes out to those who gave up secure jobs to enlist, with high hopes, only to face disappointment and, in some cases, destitution. Major General Joe Vize. General Officer Commanding the Coastal and Marine Services The 75th anniversary of the Naval Service An Cosantóir features more on the Coastal and Marine Service Article 6 of the Anglo Irish Treaty

• Cover