Song for Ireland

On my way home yesterday, I stopped off at an alleged Irish pub in Pentagon Row to drink a pint in honor of the Easter Rising. It wasn’t quite the experience I’d have liked: I got my Smithwick’s, which is my ale of choice, but I had to listen to the Beach Boys, Pink Floyd and Three Dog Night.

It was the centenary of the Easter Uprising, for the love of God; they couldn’t put on something even vaguely related to Ireland? The Pogues? Van Morrison? U2? It’s not like I’m asking for The Dubliners or freaking Celtic Thunder; just something, you know, Irish-y.

Well sod them—I promised myself a pint and a rebel song, so here’s one of the more powerful renditions of “The Foggy Dew”, which was written about the events of Easter 1916.

Yeah, it’s sentimental, but such a concise summary of the Anglo-Irish experience. The Wild Geese originally were Irish Catholic soldiers who—forbidden by the English to carry arms in any capacity—fled the island and filled the ranks of a raft of Continental European armies for three centuries. (Frequently they served in armies facing the English, karma being a bitch.) In more recent history, the term refers to Britain calling on Irishmen to serve in her forces against the Central Powers. (Defending plucky little Belgium was the rallying cry there.) Suvla and Sud (Sedd)-El-Bar were two killing grounds of the Gallipoli campaign.

The line about Britannia’s Huns and their long-range guns pretty much sums up the dénouement.

Pour yourself a drop of something, crank up the volume and let yourself for a few moments consider the men and women who took a stand for Ireland. (Look—the insurrection lasted five days; we're authorized.)

Then you can get back to your golden oldies and your appletinis.