It's not easy being Roman, writes BRIAN O'CONNELL, as he joins a military show in Cork and tries to avoid the Nazi-era 'memorabilia'
LOTS OF people say the Romans never came to Ireland, but Shane Kent, aka my “commanding officer” isn’t one of them. He takes me through the drills necessary to join his Roman squadron. I’m wearing a wool tunic, chain mail, strange leather shoes and a steel helmet. Around my waist is a large sword, while I also have a shield and large spear-like weapon in my hand.
The whole lot weighs a ton, and the only thing I am focused on conquering is my shoelace, which had opened and is proving a mighty (almost heroic, you could say) struggle to re-tie. Our camp consists of a series of white tents, open fires, and a variety of Roman civilians and soldiers milling about, not doing a whole lot, except being Roman.
Where are all the grapes and the decadent parties, I wondered. It’s not like this in Spartacus.
I’m at a two-day military show in Cork City Gaol, where an assortment of re-enactment societies have gathered and camped. To my right are Germans and Allies circa 1942, while above us are Munster Fusiliers, and a Vietnam-era platoon manning a shooting range.
Shane Kent is shouting commands at me in Latin while holding a rather threatening looking object in his hand. Kent, a supermarket worker from Blackrock in Cork, has been dressing up as a Roman for several years, and now holds officer rank. And while his parents must be very proud, what drives someone to spend their weekends dressed up and living as a Roman officer?
“I’ve always had an interest in history, but basically, if I’m honest, the movie Gladiator did it for me,” he says, “I went to watch it and I thought it looked like fun. Next thing I know, I see an advertisement in a window saying a Roman group is forming. And that was that.”
It’s not all just milling about and marching – Kent says he also gets to do some “real” soldiering? “Of course we also fight. We do everything like the Romans would have,” he says, “If we didn’t it would be like the equivalent of buying football boots but not playing the game.”
The fighting is staged combat and the group give several demonstrations over the course of the weekend. To get kitted up in full Roman gear can cost anything up to €1,000 and Kent and his group are one of just a few in the country.
“Predominantly, I think that the Irish military re-enactment scene is all about the second World War and German stuff, and not much of our own history,” says Kent, “There are groups who do the War of Independence, and maybe just one guy who does the Black and Tans, but that’s about it.”
Elsewhere, a variety of vendors and memorabilia sellers are pedalling everything from army clothing to military equipment. Several are specialising in Nazi Germany goods, from Hitler World Tour t-shirts to Iron Cross medals and even an SS typewriter. It’s a little eerie to say the least to see such a strong representation of Nazi-era memorabilia in Ireland.
A German family, Udo and Battena Henka, from Hanover, happen to be holidaying in the region. “Many things I have seen here you cannot show in Germany,” says Udo. “It is very dangerous to show this in our country and the police come and get you. It is a little bit shocking to see it here to be honest.”
At the ‘airsoft’ range, which is like paintball just without paint, Section 8, a group of mostly current and ex-Defence Forces members, hand me an M4 variant assault rifle. I’m to hit a target maybe 50 yards away. I don’t like guns, but switching my new little friend to semi-automatic, and peppering the target, feels good. Damn good. Lieutenant Adrian Tennant tells me it’s the fastest growing sport in Ireland and says that they are having trouble ordering their tiger-striped uniforms online.
“We found the Vietnam stuff good for the Irish countryside, but it’s very hard to get these days,” he says. American Kevin Weaver shows me his weapon. It’s huge – possibly the biggest I’ve ever seen.
“A gun like this will cost you €850 and can fire 1,500 rounds a minute,” he says, “I spent about three years in the US Army and joined in between two conflicts so I was lucky. Now I get to take some of the stuff I have learned and pass it onto the guys in the airsoft team.”
Just as I leave, I pass a stand where an assortment of replica weapons are for sale. A middle-aged man is holding one to his chest, clicking the trigger and feeling the weight of it.
He looks distinctly unimpressed. As he hands back the gun to its owner, he mutters, in a strong Kerry accent. “I have little meas for the old Uzi myself.”
