Murphy’s volunteers

This song became a big hit in 1968 for Limerick born singer Mick Treacy. It was composed by Sean McCarthy (1923 - 1990) from Finuge. Co. Kerry. Sean was drinking one day with John Murphy’s son in the Nine Elms bar in Kensington when the thought occurred to him that he should write a song about the father in the style of ‘McAlpine’s Fusiliers’. The setting of the song is London during the Second World War. When Murphy heard about it he warned “I hope there’s no scandal in it, McCarthy” “Oh, divil a bit,” Said McCarthy, “It’ll be a tribute from one Kerryman to another.”

Mr Murphy had hitchhiked to London in the early 1930s from Loughmark, Cahersiveen. In the interim, the 96-year-old head of what is now international construction company John J Murphy and sons, never forgot his roots, employing Irish men for decades. He worked on the construction of RAF runways and airports during the Second World War and was heavily involved in rebuilding London after the blitz, the Channel Tunnel in the 1990s and had the contract for the Olympics site in London. John Murphy died on the 7th May 2009 at the age of ninety six and was brought home by private jet to Kerry airport 80 years later for the funeral in his native Cahersiveen.

Air: The Golden Jubilee

It was in the year of thirty nine in a place called London town
The German planes were circling and sending shrapnel down
Well Paddy he was tearing up the roads of England
Johnny Murphy’s men were on the march with a pick axe in their hand.

Ah’ Murphy you’re the devil you’re leading me astray
We’re down the sewers of London town for fifty bob a day
My poor old heart is broken I’m sobbing bitter tears
I’ll tell you Pat it’s a hard oul’ craic with Murphy’s volunteers.

Come on come on says Elephant John and swing that blessed pick
For this is no place for invalids, for cripples or the sick
Forget the Germans overhead sure they’re only playing about
So come on then Pat and bend your back and dig those trenches out.

One day the Horse Maloney found this German down the hole
Good day says Horse how do you do the German shouted heil
Well heil my eye says the Pig Molloy no more of your oul’ mouth
For you’re working for John Murphy now you’re digging trenches now.

I think we’re daft says hook nose Jack to dig down here at all
I think you’re right says the Grey old White the man from Donegal
The mud down here is hard as rock  says cockney Joe McCloud
We’ll call the Germans down a while we’ll bomb the blaggard out.

John Murphy is a decent man as everybody knows
We’re very happy down the sewer and smelling like a rose
We like the porter strong and black the whiskey and the beer
You’ll get no prunes or caviar with Murphy’s volunteers.