The Cunard White Star Liner MV Georgic

After almost thirty years away from their childhood home, my mother and her sister, my Aunt Anna, went back to Ireland in June of 1951. My mother decided to take me along with my brothers Neil and Kevin, and my sister, Margaret. I was the oldest at 16, and Kevin, the youngest at three and a half. The trip was a wonderful adventure which began when we boarded a Cunard White Star passenger liner, the MV Georgic, at the Cunard pier terminals on the Hudson River in Manhattan. The ship had a bit of history, some of which I did not discover until many years later. This ship was one of the first, if not the first motor vessel (run on diesel engines) built by any shipyard in the world at the time (1932) and she was the last liner to be built by the Harlan & Wolff Shipyard in Belfast, Ireland (builders of the liners RMS Britannic, Olympic, and Titanic, all sister ships, and all steam ships), for the White Star Line, and was one of two sister ships, the other being the new and later MV Britannic. She was a two stacker weighing in at 27,469 tons and somewhat small by today’s standards. She and her sister ship, the Britannic were popular ships during the late thirties for the North Atlantic runs back and forth to America. Shortly after sailing under White Star colors, the line was merged with the British firm Cunard to become the Cunard White Star Line. She sailed for Cunard White Star until requisitioned by the British Government in 1940 for use as a troop ship in World War II.

After disembarking British Troops at Port Tewfik, Egypt, in the Gulf of Suez, during the North African Campaign in July 1941, and embarking 800 Italian Prisoners of War, she was heavily bombed and sunk by German bombers while at anchor. She remained beached, half submerged and burnt out (her ammunition had exploded) for some three months. It was decided to salvage the vessel and after plugging the hull, she was eventually towed to Bombay, India, where she was made seaworthy again, but not until January 1943. She continued as a troop ship both in landing troops and carrying troops home as well as carrying repatriated prisoners of war. After the war she was refitted for passenger service again and went back to transatlantic passenger travel but minus one of her two stacks, her former fancy interior, and popular reputation.

Because of her extensive damage, she was not considered safe for transatlantic crossings during the winter. After the war, the ship was primarily used as an immigrant ship from England and Ireland to America and later from England to Australia, and New Zealand. She would find herself on the New York to Cobh (Cork), Ireland; Southampton, England; and LeHavre, France, run only during the summer months up until the early 1950’s. For traveling to Europe in those days, the price was right. When we sailed on her in 1951, she was then a Tourist (one-class) ship and most of the passengers were Irish or Irish Americans, going to Ireland and a number of American exchange students traveling to England and France for the summer. Our cabins were basic with a number of bunk beds, and the dining room was just one big room with large square tables (as in a mess hall), but I thought it was the height of luxury. Everyone on board paid the one price for Tourist Class, and everyone had the same accommodations.

As with all British liners, they ritually served tea and biscuits in the afternoon on the outside Promenade deck and had simulated horse racing, and showed movies in the game room every day. It had a shop on board, and of course, a well-stocked bar. It took seven days to cross the North Atlantic and the first sight of land was the Cork coast of Ireland. As we were disembarking in Cobh, Ireland, we had to leave the ship by tender to go ashore, and while the Irish Custom Officials were checking everyone’s passports that were entering the country, my three and a half year old brother (your great uncle Kevin) disappeared, and my mother sent me to find him. I did find him of course, and when I did, he was leaning over the top rail on the top deck of the ship about to fall into the harbor bay that was a carpet of jelly fish. If anyone in the family was accident prone it was Kevin. On another day, while traveling by hired car with a driver, from one place to another one evening in Ireland, Kevin opened the car door, and almost fell out of the moving car.

On the way back to New York in September, the ship, a day out of Ireland, ran into a terrible storm and everyone (including me) got sea sick. The swells were so high that when the ship banked to one side, you could not see the sky or the horizon, it was a wall of ocean; it was a miracle the ship did not founder. In that year, the winter of 1951, a number of ships did in fact founder in the North Atlantic off the Irish coast. The Georgic remained on the New York to Ireland, France, and England summer run from 1950 to 1954, and then was used as an immigrant ship for the Australian and New Zealand immigrant trade from England. A final footnote: The Georgic’s last voyage was in September 1955, where she embarked 2,000 French Legionnaires at Cape St. Jaque, at the entrance of the Mekong River, in Vietnam; all survivors of the Battle of Dien Bien Phu. Half the Legionnaires were taken to Algiers and the other half to Marseilles, France. The Battle of Dien Bien Phu sounded the death knell for France in formerly French Indo-China and led to our ultimate decision for entering the war. In January 1956, the Georgic was sold for scrap; the very last of the Belfast, Ireland built White Star Liners.

County Kerry (Roughing It)

From Cork, we traveled by train to Rathmore in County Kerry, where a rented car and driver picked us up and took us to my mother’s family farm in Shrone to visit her brother Timothy and his wife Madge. Timothy inherited the farm and he and Madge had children by the names of Daniel, and Dennis Joseph, who everyone called DenJoe. Now, we met the poor relatives. My other aunts, (my mother’s sisters) all came to visit from England, while we were in Shrone. Aunt Katherine and Nonee The Timothy Cahill family lived in a big old house with no in-door plumbing, no running water, and no electricity. The house was heated by a huge open fireplace that was heated by burning turf (peat) from the turf bogs. All of their cooking was done over that open hearth. When you had to go to the bathroom, you went outside in the field and went. The farm had cows, sheep, and horses, and for me, there were a couple of notable firsts; one, I learned how to milk a cow, and two, my Uncle Timothy allowed me to use his shotgun to go hunting hares (large rabbits) with. I thought the place, except for the lack of bathroom facilities, was paradise. For the almost three months we were in Ireland, I guess almost two of those months were spent in Kerry, on the farm. I helped (along with my brother Neil, who was 12), Uncle Timothy with the hay, milking, and taking the donkey and cart to the local creamery with a huge milk can or two of milk. One day, at the creamery, while we (Neil and I) were getting ready to unload the milk cans, we tipped the cart over and spilled the milk. Uncle Timothy was furious. He often found himself yelling at us, but he was good man, and his wife Madge, a good humored hard worker.

When traveling the country roads around Shrone, you would come upon a marker indicating a site where members of the Irish Republican Army were shot to death by the British Black and Tans, a notorious para-military force in Ireland during Ireland’s War of Independence form Great Britain.

From Shrone, we would take trips to Killarney Town, which was not too far away, to the Killarney Lakes, to the Killarney horse races, and once to the Killorglin Puck Fair, where every year in the town of Killorglin, they would put a large male goat on the top of a platform which was attached to a very long pole in the middle of the town square, and all kinds of events would take place in the town; dancing, horse trading, singing, buying and selling of all kinds of goods, and of course, drinking. The origin of the Puck Fair probably went back to pre-Christian or pagan days. Speaking of pre-Christian days in Ireland, in Shrone, my mother’s birthplace has an ancient Druid site nearby called “The City”, which was used extensively by the early Druid priests for ceremonies. You can still visit the site today. When we visited Killarney on Fair Day, the Tinkers (Travelers or Gypsies) would be out in force and if you were not careful they would steal the teeth out of your head. You had to be very careful around them, and you would often see them on the road in their colored caravans or wagons drawn by horses. The Tinkers would travel from place to place offering their services by selling or repairing pots and pans.

When we were not working the farm, we would climb the nearby hills and mountains called the “Paps”. We would (at least I would) attend dances with my mother and aunt, and they were great affairs and everyone was curious about the sixteen year old Yank or “Narrowback”. Another form of entertainment was in the evening by turf burning light in the house and perhaps a Coleman gas lantern, where people would tell ghost stories about the “Banshees”, a form of Irish ghost. One of the more notable story tellers was a neighbor by the name of Timothy Rheen. In rural Ireland in the early 1950’s despite my impressions in Cork and later Dublin, was a very poor country. Very few people owned cars, and most got around by donkey or horse and cart, or walked to school, church, or town, or the local dance hall. By the way, we got around from place to place through a hired car and driver, a man by the name of Johnny Nagle.

County Offaly and Dublin

From Waterford, we then went to the town my father was born in, and that was the Town of Clara, in the District of Tullamore in County Offaly. In Clara, we stayed at my father’s sister’s (Aunt Bridget) house, and there was plenty of room. On the ground floor of the house she ran a small candy and cigarette store.

Clara was an industrial or factory town and everyone worked for the same company, the Rank Organization, a British company, and lived in factory housing. The company in Clara manufactured Jute, which is used for burlap bags and such. The company was also in the movie business in England. In Clara, there was my Aunt Bridget, and my Uncle Paddy, and his wife, Aunt Catherine and Uncle Paddy and Aunt Catherine’s children, Josephine and John (Josephine later became Joe Lyttle’s mother), who all of your parents met in Ireland. We stayed there a week or so, and from there we went to Dublin by train to visit my mother’s other brother, Dan Cahill who was a detective sergeant in the police force in Dublin (the Gardi) who worked out of Gardi Headquarters (Bureau of Weights and Measures) in Phoenix Park, Dublin. Uncle Dan was a confirmed bachelor. I recall him taking us all to lunch in a fancy hotel in Dublin where we were served finger sandwiches. “Boy, I said to myself, this Ireland side of the family is living pretty well”. Since I was not sure how well I had done in my first year in high school (we left before school ended), I thought I would be better off staying in Ireland, and living on the Kerry farm. I loved it there. My mother said No! When we were in Kerry, I recall meeting a fellow American who was around 19 years old, living with relatives in Ireland, who it was said, fled to Ireland to avoid being drafted for the Korean War which began in 1950. Ireland did not have an extradition treaty with the United States that covered draft dodgers, so he could not be extradited back to America.