OPINION:Recent Letters to the Editor about Irishmen in British uniforms prompted Tom Clonanto research his own family . . . with the discovery of a tragic family legacy
IN RECENT weeks, there has been an exchange of opinion on Irishmen in foreign uniforms on the letters page of The Irish Times. As a retired Army officer, I had been interested in the correspondence. I did not anticipate however that the series of letters would lead directly to the discovery of a tragic family legacy - of war and of lost memories - from beyond the grave.
Initially, the debate on the letters page led me to reflect on my own military service. The letters also provoked recollections of my extended family's wartime experiences.
In particular, it brought to mind the service history of my grandfather Joe Clonan, who served in the Free State army during the civil war and later in the fledgling Garda Síochána.
These recollections in turn brought to mind the service of my grandfather's cousin and namesake, Joe Clonan, who served as an officer in the Australian Imperial Force (AIF) during the first World War. My curiosity aroused, I decided to look up Lieut Clonan's war record on the website of the Commonwealth Graves Commission.
Not expecting to find any record, I was surprised to find myself almost instantly connected to Lieut Joseph Clonan's grave in the military cemetery at Bois Grenier, near Armentieres in northern France - the first visit, however virtual, by a Clonan to his grave in over 90 years. His grave registration revealed that he had served with the 36th Battalion of the AIF and had been killed at the front on November 10th, 1917.
Armed with this information, I then logged on to the official archive of Australia's war dead. Two clicks and less than three seconds later I had traversed 90 years of history - two generations of family mythology and lost memory along with several continents - to access Lieut Joseph Clonan's immaculately preserved and digitally photographed war service record.
The 87-page, high-resolution digital copy of his war record tells a sad and bleak tale of one life - among millions - lost in the trenches of the first World War.
His Army Form B 103 - his active service record - contains just seven entries. It details his enlistment on August 29th, 1915 for the duration of the "war and four months". His arrival in Plymouth from Sydney aboard the Australian troop ship Beltana is recorded in May 1916.
The Easter Rising must have taken place while Lieut Clonan was at sea. On November 22nd, 1916, his departure to France is entered. After three months, his service record shows that he was appointed brigade transport officer on St Valentine's Day, 1917. This would have been a very significant appointment for Lieut Clonan as it would have taken him from the front line to the relative safety of the AIF's rear headquarters area.
His respite from the front was short-lived however, and his personal file reveals that he was "relieved of appointment as brigade transport officer" on August 31st, 1917. Two and a half months later, after just 10 weeks at the front, his record contains its final entry. Entered by his battalion commander, it simply states: "Killed. Self-inflicted".
His personal file tells me, 91 years after his death, that he was not killed in action as would have been presumed by any bereaved army family, but appears to have died by suicide - a casualty, I assume, to depression and despair, perhaps of the savagery of trench warfare. The proceedings of the military court of inquiry into his death are contained in his service record.
There were two main witnesses to his death. The medical officer, Capt P Cockburn, states: "In response to a summons this morning I examined the body of Lieut JPS Clonan at 8.45am . . . He appeared to have just died and death was due to a bullet wound in the right temple with the wound of exit on the left temple."
Capt Cockburn went on to state: "From the position of the wound, it could have been self-inflicted. I have known Lieut Clonan for the last two or three months and at times he appeared to be depressed and was inclined to look upon the dark side of things."
His commanding officer, Capt J Bushell states in his witness statement "[I] proceeded to Lieut Clonan's billet, where I found him lying across the bed with a Frenchman holding his head. There was a pool of blood in the middle of the bed, as well as a good deal of blood on the bed coverings. The deceased was fully dressed with the exception of his Sam Browne belt. I have known the deceased since March 1916. He was always a man of a happy disposition, until about three months ago, since then he has been brooding and low-spirited and seemed very depressed."
It would appear to me that Lieut Clonan's descent into depression coincided with the loss of his appointment as brigade transport officer.
It may have been the case that after three months of fighting in the trenches, he chose to take his own life.
However, the subsequent court martial contained in his file finds him not guilty and subsequent documents describe his self-inflicted death as "accidental".
In a poignant postscript, his father and mother, Patrick Joseph Clonan and Margaret Mary Clonan, acknowledge the receipt by post of his personal effects which consisted simply of his Sam Browne belt. Presumably, Capt Bushell sent this particular piece of kit as the rest of his uniform would have been soaked in blood.
In a final ironic note, the last entries in his service record detail the acquisition of eight pounds and three shillings from his estate by McVickers Co - a gents' outfitters on Bond Street in London.
Lieut Joseph Clonan's death is perhaps emblematic of the experience of the majority of soldiers in war, in whatever uniform. His death speaks of the horror of war and the senseless and barbaric taking of human life.
In choosing to take his own life, Lieut Clonan withdrew from the insanity of the trenches. His memory however has been forgotten, overwritten perhaps by the romanticised, sentimentalised notions of war that are necessary to recruit younger generations into the death profession that is the military.
If Lieut Joseph Clonan were in a position to write a letter to Madam Editor about service in a foreign uniform, I believe he would not speak of war in terms of "glory", "adventure" or an elite warrior caste of "gladiators" fighting for "freedom" - I believe he would speak only of its horror.
In recounting his death in this manner, perhaps it will not have been totally in vain.
• Tom Clonan is The Irish Timessecurity analyst. He teaches journalism at the Dublin Institute of Technology