Ireland’s Neutrality and the North Shore Bombings

I was having difficulty finding my destination for the morning. I walked into the offices of Marino College. I could tell that the man in the security/reception booth had sized me up and determined I did not belong there. I asked if he could direct me to the bombing memorial. There was an instant flash of recognition on his face and he understood why I was there. He gently smiled and said, “You’re at the wrong Marino College.” He asked if I was on foot (which I was). He gave me very good directions to get to the memorial, which I had passed along the way. “You will begin to feel a slight rise underneath your feet. When you reach the top of the hill, the garden will be down just a little, on the left side of the road,” he said. 

My goal on this cool drizzly morning was to find the memorial to those who died in the German bombing of North Dublin in May 1941. There is some question as to whether it was inadvertent or not. During the Second World War the government of Éamon de Valera had a foreign policy position of absolute neutrality; however, Republic of Ireland fire brigades had been assisting in Belfast. The outbreak of the war came just seventeen years after Irish independence and two years after the new constitution established a Republic. The new Republic forced Britain to relinquish its naval bases on its territory. Several authors have argued that Ireland’s policy was, in part, based upon the personal animosity between de Valera and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill.  

Several stray bombs had fallen on the Republic of Ireland prior to the North Shore incident. It is worth remembering that the six counties of Northern Ireland (part of the United Kingdom) were heavily involved in the war. In the early morning hours of 31 May 1941, a number of bombs from German airplanes fell on houses in northern Dublin, specifically in and around the North Shore Road area. As a result twenty-eight people were killed and ninety were injured; many more people were left homeless as well. Compared to what was happening across the continent, it may appear that this was a minor incident; however, for those who were the victims it had to be a traumatic event. Ireland was not at war; there was no warning or protection. Average Irish citizens experienced for a few terrifying hours what the Irish Independent referred to as “this horrendous war.”

As was the case elsewhere, tales of what happened in the aftermath are interesting. The Irish Independent related two short stories that offered tantalizingly specific information:

At 8:45 a.m., on Saturday, Miss Behan and Miss Hoey, who resided in 157 North Strand Rd., were rescued alive having been trapped in their home for just seven hours. Before their rescue stimulants were administered to them by Dr. Pringle. (Irish Independent, 2 June 1941)

In another vignette, the newspaper offered a little levity about the tragedy:

It was nearly two hours before the man trapped in the N.C.R. house was dug out. He was exhausted, and his first request was for a cigarette before he was taken to the hospital. (Irish Independent, 2 June 1941)

All the contemporary newspaper accounts (that I have read thus far) offered glowing praise for public officials and rescue services that responded to the bombing. The Irish Press did note the work of private citizens as well in rescuing and helping one another.

In the ruins of one of the houses rescue workers formed a human chain to extricate four people from under the fallen masonry, lifting them from hand to hand to the roadway, while demolition squads worked on the threateningly dangerous walls of shattered buildings beside them. (Irish Press, 31 May 1941)

Ireland’s relationship with the Second World War has been difficult because of its neutrality. Although the North Shore Road bombing was out of the ordinary for the Irish, its memory has been obscured and overshadowed. The memorial was not erected until 1991; the monument was refurbished in 2011 (which is when I learned of its existence). It has been on this trip that I learned of the only Irish-born Jew to have been killed in the Holocaust, Ettie Steinberg; there were a handful of Irish sailors who suffered in German prison camps. Ireland’s stance during the war meant that it did not join the United Nations until 1955. Some Irish citizens did fight for Britain against Germany during the war. But those who did often face prejudice and discrimination after the war. It was just this past month that the government of Taoiseach Edna Kennedy issued a pardon on behalf of the country to those who fought against National Socialism. It is not often that memorials from the World War II era are found in Ireland and Dublin; however, the process of coming to terms with the aftereffects of the war has begun.