The Great German plane

On St. Stephen's day 26th December 1941, a German reconnaissance JU88 aircraft with a crew of four, running low in fuel, made an emergency landing at Caol Boig bog in the townland of Canuig in Dromid Parish.  Jack Carey of Foildrenagh, the first person on the scene, alerted the authorities, and the Waterville LDF unit arrested the crew and guarded the plane.  The crew were detained in the water tower of the Cable Station in Waterville and were wined and dined by the ladies of the station pending their internment for the war's duration in Tintown Camp in the Curragh. The plane was burnt by the military in the New Year and the remaining wreckage was sold to a Mr. Sheehan of Cahersiveen.  Some souvenirs of the plane remain, including a seat, a Flare gun etc. Fine shirts were made by the women of the area from the plane's silk parachutes.

The clock chimed out noon on St. Stephen’s feast day,

T’was as calm as mild as the sweet month of May.

The huntsmen’s beagles were out on the slough,

Along by Caol Bóig and around Coomastow.

The fowlers and coursers were all in full heat,

And the wren boys of course had their great annual treat.

And all in the parish were in tip-top glee,

When a great German plane came straight in o’er the sea.

II

It threw down four flares as it dashed by Cuantrae

Saying we are coming to land, in the air we can’t stay,

In a fight with the British far out to the west,

We got wounded though two of their planes we did best.

It was going lopsided, for something was wrong,

Though the roar of its engines was powerful and strong,

Every eye in the parish was lifted to see,

This great German plane that came in o’er the sea.

III

Three times o’er the valley it circled around,

Once high in the air and twice near the ground.

But it crashed to the earth with a bloodcurdling groan,

By Caol Bóig’s rushing stream, near the seat of Seán Crón.

It tore through the slough with a thundering sound,

While machine-guns, munitions and plane strewed the ground

How it swerved from the fence -a grand sight to see,

For a star was the pilot who came in o’er the sea.

IV

Four fine German striplings leaped out on the land,

Their documents burned with flares near at hand.

Five volleys they fired at the engine point blank,

But it never caught fire for bone-dry was each tank.

Iron Crosses they wore from Hitler’s own hand,

For brave deeds and daring o’er sea and o’er land

In the battle of Norwich, they fought twenty three,

And sent them down blazing into the sea.

V

Many wren boys were seen in that great annual run,

But we ne’er saw the beat of Nineteen Forty One,

That day capped them all when four brave German men,

Brought us in the great eagle instead of the wren.

They gave fags and sweets to the garsúns on the slough,

But they sang us no King’s song, they never did bow,

As John Casey the teacher then took them for tea,

They were stopped by the soldiers from west near the sea.

VI

This plane which was built near the Rhineland at Metz,

Had two wireless receiving and transmitting sets,

To unload her guns, or engage in a fight,

You just pressed a button to left or to right.

With its eagle-like camera fixed in full stare,

Finest photos it took as it sped through the air.

Everything was topnotch and right up to the tee,

In this fine German plane that came in o’er the sea.

VII

When the shadow of night thickened round in the gloom,

In it bright torches lit up in full bloom,

And when daylight illuminated poor old Sean Crón’s yard,

They died down again of their own sweet accord,

From its side flew a boat with one press of the hand,

Like the boat that brought Casement to Lonely Banna Strand,

Oh the peak of perfection, a marvel to see,

Was the great German plane that came in o’er the sea.

VIII

For a week thousands waked this great plane on the ground

Until it was cremated as the New Year came around.

The roads overcrowded, there were dashings and jars,

And traffic cops wavering amid cycles and cars.

Experts and mechanics of every degree,

Came from Baldonnel, Foynes and Tralee,

Douglas Hyde, De Valera, Doctor Ryan and Seán T.

Came in state to the plane that came o’er the sea.

IX

Farewell, German airmen, you manned the first line,

A credit you are to your land by the Rhine.

And it grieves us, it grieves us that you should e’er be,

At Tintown, the Curragh, behind lock and key.

When the war is all over and freed men you stand,

May the sunshine of victory light up your land,

And we hope Mother Erin that day will be free,

The first flower of the earth and first gem of the sea.

Dan Courtney, Málainn

do chúm