Defence Forces Review 2008

‘Carlsberg don’t do Peacekeeping’
I specifically remember that earlier in the trip an issue arose when it was discovered that many
people were wearing Israeli parka jackets in order to stave off frostbite - but the problem was
we had not been issued with them and therefore they were not official uniform. When the
Battalion Commander got wind of the problem we wondered how he would react - but we had
nothing to fear. “Draw up a size role”, he told the welfare officer, “order one for everyone in
the battalion, including me, and subsidize the whole lot of them. Then we will all have one”.
Practical to the last the CO made the right call and we loved him for it. In a battered locker in
Collins Bks Cork I still have a bottle green Israeli parka jacket which gets worn occasionally
on the range. It survives as testimony to the application of common sense in adversity and
the fact that once upon a time a Commanding Officer put the welfare of his men before the
administrative rule book. I learned from Tony McCarthy that if you get the small things right
the big ones will take care of themselves - it was an invaluable lesson.
There are other memories too – like doing Radio Scorpion with Sgt Danny Mulcahy until
the old ambulance in which it was housed in Norwegian Maintenance Company compound
got hit by lightening and we had to negotiate airtime with Radio Dutchbatt. After that “Celtic
Radio” went out on 104FM every Sunday afternoon between one and three from Harris – I
made a great friend and we had a ball.
Then almost at the end of the trip Joe McDonagh travelled with me all the way to Cairo – the
hard way – overland via Sinai – and we got there just in time for a belated St Patrick’s day
party at the UNTSO-OGE HQ - all I can say is that it must have been the food that made me
so ill! Fortunately, Major H J Kafoura (US) took pity on us and provided us with a base from
which we got to patrol to the Pyramids, The Souk, and the place where President Sadat was
murdered. Thank you Kafouras - where ever you are.
Then it was time to go. Another boring bus journey and we got taken to the cleaners by the
Israeli customs at the Rafah border crossing, but then perhaps we asked for it – maybe it would
have been better to let them stamp the bloody passports! What were we thinking about
And then it was over. In a blink six months in Lebanon had come to an end. I nearly fell from
the back of the truck that final morning as another French driver weaved his way through
Israeli fortifications in Sidon on our way back to Beirut. Had John Cawley not grabbed me
I was gone out the back for sure – but the photo was worth the risk – or so I claimed. Now I
know it wasn’t. John was always there when things started to go wrong – ten times out of ten
he also put them right.
At the airport the geography had changed since our last visit six months previously. UNIFIL
now had a transit area cordoned off and we changed from our faded bush greens into ‘whites’
for the final leg of the journey home. All dressed up, UNIFIL ribbon proudly on our chests, but
one more time we had to wait. The big green bird was there - we could see the white shamrock
on the tail fin as it protruded over the terminal buildings – but all was not yet in order.
So we stood alongside a huge building with an even bigger tarmacked area all fenced off
alongside it. Behind the wire we studied the lean mean fighting machines who were putting
themselves thought a programme of intense physical exercise as the sun scorched down upon
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