Defence Forces Review 2008

‘Bullets, Bacteria and Boredom’
‘Bullets, Bacteria and Boredom’
A Peacekeeping Memory of Lebanon -
November 1978 – November 2001
Dr. John Moriarty
Morning’s warmth was beginning to banish the winter chill. It was November 13th 2001 and
I stood at the highest point in Camp Shamrock, just outside the hospital. To the west, the
port city of Tyre was visible in the crisp sunlight; to the east, snow-capped Mount Herman,
Northern Israel and the Occupied Territories. The Lebanese Mountains rose to the North.
At 7.30 sharp, the bugle salute wafted upwards on the breeze, fluttering the tricolour as it
descended the mast to be replaced by the Ghanaian national colours. Honours were rendered.
The pipe band played. The final Irish battalion began to march out of Camp Shamrock and
onto the waiting buses – destination Beirut International Airport and into the twilight of an
odyssey that had begun 23 years previously...
As I passed through Tibnin on that last journey, I looked to my right and saw the ruins of the
old Camp Shamrock, with its medical compound beside Jack’s Store. All around were many
landmarks that had changed little over the years – the “UN Tailor for Soldiers” sign, Caltex
and Tibnin hospital right at the end of the town. There, the local people waved goodbye. A
mixture of sadness and incredulity could be seen in some faces. My thoughts wandered as
I recalled other trips over the 23 years. We passed through the t-junction at Tibnin Bridge,
that bridge of sighs and sadness for the Irish. Right for Al Jurn and left for Bir as Sanasil.
Asultanigah. Kafr Dunin. Shaebia. And finally the coast road and the Tyre/Beirut auto route.
We crossed the Litani River to Sidon and eventually arrived at the airport. There, an honour
party of the Lebanese Army bade us farewell on the tarmac. We boarded the waiting Airbus
with a crown on its tailfin. The sun glowed a golden orange in the western sky and electric
lights began to twinkle their way up the city’s heights. Our plane left the runway and banked
right over the Cornice. There was joy in the air, joy tinged with sadness. We were finally going
home – destination Dublin. I started to slumber and my mind entered dream mode. My sleep
was disturbed by a mantra – bullets, bacteria, boredom, bullets, bacteria, boredom…these are
dangers encountered by every solider on a mission away from home. But they are of particular
concern to medical officers. These are what we have to be ever ready to do battle against.
They were my fears, even as I slept. However, on that day, as I finally left the Lebanon, my
sense of fear abated and was eventually replaced by calm. And then it was another November
day, in another decade, another century and another place…
November 12th 1978 in Gormanstown Camp and the day was damp and dreary. One of our
group, a fellow Kerry man, was apprehensive about travelling. I spoke to him and he decided
to go. Little did he realise he was voicing fears we all shared. Our buses departed at 5.30pm
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