The Battle to Bring Soccer to Irish Radio. 2RN in 1928

 From Gaelic Games to Soccer: The Battle to Bring Soccer to Irish Radio.

How sporting rivalries, political pressure, religious influence and fears over falling attendances delayed the arrival of live soccer broadcasts in Ireland.

 

In the last post we have looked at the first rugby commentary and commentator on 2RN in 1927, today we look at the first soccer broadcasts and broadcasters in Ireland in 1928.

In August 1926, Irish broadcasting made sporting history when the first Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA) match was broadcast on radio. It was a landmark moment, not just for Irish sport but for European broadcasting, as it is credited as the first broadcast of a field sport in Europe[1]. The following year, rugby union joined the growing list of sports available to radio listeners. In 1927, listeners could hear live coverage of the rugby Five Nations Championship from Dublin, following earlier coverage of a match at Twickenham. This was followed by broadcasts on 2RN, Ireland's national radio station, of visiting South African and New Zealand rugby touring sides in late 1927. The first live broadcast of soccer match on the island of Ireland was by 2BE, the BBC station in Northern Ireland, on Saturday February 26^th when the Northern Irish team played their Scottish counterparts at Windsor Park with John C. Fergusson as commentator. The following month on March 5^th, 1927, also from Windsor Park in Belfast, the meeting between Northern Ireland and the Irish Free State with teams drawn from players in the domestic leagues was broadcast live.

 

Yet one of the country's most popular and rapidly growing sports remained absent from the airwaves in the southern half of the island. Soccer, despite its expanding following and the emergence of the League of Ireland after independence, had to wait until February 1928 for its first live radio broadcast. That historic occasion featured Drumcondra against Fordsons, played in Cork and broadcast by the Cork station 6CK, with the transmission relayed to Dublin for its sister station, 2RN. Why did soccer have to wait when Gaelic games and rugby had already found a place on Irish radio?

 

The answer lay in a complex mixture of sporting politics, economic concerns, social class and religious influence in the early years of the Irish Free State. In the years following independence, the GAA occupied a prominent position in the cultural and political life of the new state. Gaelic games were closely associated with Irish national identity, and the organisation had considerable influence among communities across rural Ireland.

 

The early decision to broadcast a GAA match was therefore significant. Radio offered an opportunity to bring local sporting traditions into the homes of listeners across the country, reinforcing the place of Gaelic games in the cultural life of the new state. Rugby, by contrast, was often regarded as an elitist sport with English roots, associated with private schools, universities and sections of society quite different from the traditional GAA base. Its presence on the radio did not necessarily represent the same perceived challenge to the GAA's position. Soccer however was another matter.

Early sports broadcasting.

Following independence, the game was experiencing considerable growth, particularly in urban centres. The establishment of the League of Ireland in 1921 gave domestic soccer a new national structure, while clubs were attracting increasingly loyal followings. For the GAA, the concern was not simply competition from another sport. Soccer represented a growing alternative sporting culture, with the potential to draw supporters and local loyalties away from Gaelic games.

 

The influence of the GAA extended beyond the playing field. Many rural communities were closely connected to the organisation, and politicians representing these areas were well aware of its importance to their constituents. Rural-based members of Dáil Éireann had strong incentives to support the interests of their local sporting communities. The GAA's grassroots network gave it a powerful voice in debates about the role of sport in national life. The prospect of regular live soccer broadcasts therefore carried political implications. Giving soccer access to the same new broadcasting medium as Gaelic games could help strengthen its appeal in areas where the GAA had traditionally been dominant.

 

Radio was still a relatively new yet influential medium. A live broadcast could introduce a club or competition to listeners who might never have attended a match, potentially expanding the game's following well beyond the cities and towns in which it was played. The question of which sports deserved airtime was consequently about more than entertainment. It was also about influence, identity and the distribution of attention in a newly independent country. Politics was only one part of the story. The clubs themselves had practical concerns.

 

The newly established League of Ireland clubs were attempting to build sustainable businesses around match-day attendances. Gate receipts were an important source of income, helping clubs meet operating expenses. Live radio presented an obvious risk. If supporters could listen to a match from the comfort of their homes or public house, would they still pay to attend in person?

 

This concern was not unique to Ireland. Football authorities in England were also debating the relationship between broadcasting and attendance. The English Football League opposed live broadcasts of their league matches, fearing that radio coverage would undermine gate receipts, while the Football Association continued to permit live radio broadcasts of certain matches. The first live soccer match with a running commentary was from Highbury and a game between Arsenal and Sheffield United on January 22^nd, 1927, with commentator Ted Wakelam. The distinction between the two bodies reflected a wider debate about the commercial future of football. Broadcasting could promote the sport and attract new followers, but it might also provide a substitute for the live match-day experience. Irish clubs faced the same dilemma. They wanted greater exposure for their competitions, but they could not afford to jeopardise the income on which their survival depended. For a young league still establishing itself, the consequences of falling attendances could be serious.

The debate also unfolded against the backdrop of the Catholic Church's considerable social influence in Ireland during the 1920s. Church authorities and clergy were influential in shaping attitudes towards leisure, recreation and public behaviour. In urban areas, where soccer had developed a strong following, there were concerns that the sport could distract parishioners from religious observance and other aspects of community life.

One Dundalk based priest said,

‘in three or four counties he knew all the jazz dances were being run by GAA Clubs during the past twelve months. Those men took a football in their hand and kicked it but they were no better than those who played soccer and rugby.’

He added,

‘in the GAA there are two classes, one who played Gaelic games because they were Irish and another class who played Gaelic games because they were brought up in a Gaelic environment and who would have played soccer or rugby had they been brought up where these games were played.

 

These objections formed part of a broader tension between organised religion, popular entertainment and the changing habits of an increasingly urban society. Soccer's popularity was growing at a time when Irish society was negotiating its identity after independence. The sport's strong links with Britain, its appeal among urban working-class communities and its expanding club structure made it a subject of wider cultural debate. Radio threatened to extend that appeal even further.

 

The eventual arrival of live soccer on Irish radio appears to have benefited from a practical solution to the controversy. Rather than beginning with a Dublin fixture, the first broadcast involved an FAI Cup semi final match played in Cork between Drumcondra and Fordsons on February 19th 1928. The Cork station 6CK carried the match, with the broadcast relayed from Dublin by 2RN. From 1927 when 6CK opened, all programmes were made by the station and relayed from Dublin, while during the rest of the week 6CK was the relay station for 2RN broadcasts. The use of 6CK is particularly significant because it illustrates the role of regional broadcasting in the early development of Irish radio. The national broadcasting service was not yet operating with the reach, resources or established conventions familiar to later generations. Its stations were helping to define what public broadcasting in Ireland would become. Gaelic games and rugby had already shown that live sport could become part of radio programming. The remaining questions concerned policy, economics and the place of soccer in Irish public life.

 

The game itself was played at the Mardyke in front of a sell-out 10,000 spectators. Those first commentators were John Murphy, a former Pioneers player and the Pioneers delegate on the Leinster Football Association. He was assisted by Jim Brennan who was the then chairman of the Free State League. Murphy and his two brothers, Myles and Bobby, all played for Pioneers and were all involved in the early FAI as organisers. John became their delegate to the Leinster Football Association and represented Athlone Town FC to the new Irish Free State League committee. As part of his role, he accompanied the Irish Free State national team to Paris to compete in the 1924 Olympics. For the 1925-26 season he was elected chair of the Irish Free State League and before relinquishing the post one of the final acts, he oversaw was the admission of Dundalk to the league. Brennan would later take on a similar role in the FAIFS. John Murphy, Ireland’s first soccer commentator died at his home in Marino in August 1966. Jim Brennan through himself in the administration of the newly formed Free State football organisation and was the FAI delegate on a number of occasions at FIFA meetings. When he died in December 1949, his newspaper obituary was written by Myles Murphy, the Honorary Secretary of the FAI. He also was a regular broadcaster on Radio Eireann on the Soccer Survey Programme.

In Cork, the Dublin side won three goals to nil. There were numerous listener letters from soccer fans demanding more games to be broadcast. The Irish Examiner[2] claimed that there was an embargo on soccer broadcasts and added that,

’Gaelic and rugby games have been repeatedly broadcast and why association football should be so far have been shut out is difficult to understand.’

but this was counteracted by a denial not from Seamus Clandillon at 2RN but from Sean Neeson, the director at 6CK. He wrote,

Sir, Your Dublin correspondent, referring in Saturday’s issue of the “Examiner” to the broadcast of the Cup semi-final between Drumcondra and Fordsons, remarks that “the wireless embargo on ‘Soccer,’ if such there be, cannot now in any fairness be continued.” There has never, to my knowledge, been an embargo on “Soccer.” No discrimination is made between applications from the authorities of Gaelic, Rugby, “Soccer,” or other pastimes. Yours faithfully,

SEAN NESSON,

In 1928 an editorial in the Irish Independent remarked,

‘For the past few years followers of Association football have had a grievance against the broadcasting authorities in the Saorstat. Rugby Internationals and Gaelic matches have been broadcast, but for some strange reason “Soccer” has been left severely alone. In view of the very large support for this game throughout the country, it seemed rather curious that it should have been neglected. It is the business of those in charge of 2R.N. to suit the requirements of the public, no matter how peculiar those requirements may seem to them. To the ordinary citizen there was nothing unusual in the desire to ascertain the progress of yesterday’s match in Cork. After a great deal of controversy and letters to the Press the Dublin station decided to cater for wireless enthusiasts who are also Soccer enthusiasts, and the wisdom of this step was very apparent. Curious though it may seem, it caused quite a flutter of excitement in Dublin. Where there was a loudspeaker there was a goodly gathering of interested listeners. This is evidence enough of the popularity of the decision, and it is to be hoped that the matter will not end here. There will be other important matches, and those might receive similar attention. The duty of those in charge of broadcasting stations in the Saorstat is to serve the public and broadcast events of interest.’

The exact extent to which the Cork location was deliberately chosen to avoid political controversy merits further historical investigation, but the circumstances surrounding the broadcast reflect the competing interests that shaped the early years of Irish sports broadcasting. Live radio offered clubs an opportunity to reach listeners who were unable to attend matches. It could introduce teams to new audiences, build interest in the League of Ireland and help establish a stronger national sporting conversation.

 

Newspapers also feared live broadcasts from 2RN and despite the fact that anyone who could tune into the live broadcast would know the result, the Irish Independent advertised in their newspaper,

‘we have made arrangement to get through the result of this Cup tie in Cork on Sunday as soon as possible after the finish of the game and will show it in the window of our office, Carlisle Building, D’Olier St about 5pm.’

Sports coverage was important to the newspapers and their sales, sports often taking up as much as a quarter of the newspaper and they feared radio and especially live radio.

 

At the same time, it challenged established assumptions about how sport should be promoted and consumed. The concerns over gate receipts, political influence and cultural identity would not disappear overnight, but the arrival of soccer on the airwaves showed that the game could no longer be excluded from the country's developing broadcasting landscape. The story of Irish sports radio in the 1920s was therefore about much more than the technical achievement of transmitting a match. It was a reflection of the tensions within a young state, where sport was intertwined with national identity, political allegiances, religious values and commercial survival. The delay was not simply a question of which game was most popular. It was a struggle over who would control the new medium, which sporting traditions it would serve and how far the growing influence of radio would reshape Irish sporting life.

 

In the end, the radio could not remain the preserve of one sporting tradition. As the popularity of soccer continued to grow, the airwaves had to make room for it.

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[1] Baseball had been broadcast by NBC in 1921 with a match between the New York Yankees and the San Franscisco Giants from the Polo grounds in New Rork. The Polo Grounds later accommodated the only All Ireland GAA final held outside Ireland.

[2] Then known as The Cork Examiner

Sources

The Irish Newspaper Archive

Dail Eireann Debates

UCD Archives

The British Newspaper Archives

BBC Archives

RTE Archives

FAI Archives

LSL Archives

US Newspaper Archives

World Radio History

Ireland's First Rugby Broadcast, 1927

(c) Weekly Irish Independent, Colourized by IBHOF

I recently read a book on Irish radio history, published to celebrate the centenary of the launch of 2RN in 1926. One paragraph stood out.

‘2RN may have been a little later than their European counterparts in getting up and running, but they were innovative and well ahead of their peers in the sports arena from the very start. The Irish state broadcaster is credited with being the first radio station, in Europe at least, to broadcast live matches and races on air. The BBC were not allowed to do this, to ensure they were not in competition with the newspapers of the day. The first live commentary broadcast on a match was a Five Nations rugby international at the newly built Ravenhill stadium in Belfast, played on 9 January 1926 between Ireland and France. Ireland won, 11-0.’[1]

The sentence that stood for out for me was,

‘The first live commentary broadcast on a match was a Five Nations rugby international at the newly built Ravenhill stadium in Belfast, played on 9 January 1926 between Ireland and France.’

Several significant errors should be addressed so that the pioneers of early Irish radio receive proper recognition for their contributions. Ireland did defeat France 11–0, but the match was played on January 23^rd, 1926—not January 9^th —and no live commentary was broadcast from Ravenhill. The first live commentary of a Five Nations international took place during the 1927 championship. On January 15^th 1927, 2LO (part of the British Broadcasting Company) in London broadcast the England versus Wales match live from Twickenham, making it the first live rugby commentary. The commentary was provided by former Harlequins player Captain Ted Wakelam. ‘A running commentary by an eyewitness’ was how the commentator was described. A special wooden commentary box was built and even a colour commentator was employed, Charles Mapworth. A pitch grid was published in the newspapers and in the Radio Times to assist listeners in identifying where the ball and the action was on the pitch. On February 12^th Ireland played England in London losing 8-6 but the match was broadcast live by 2LO and relayed by powerful Daventry transmitter. 

The match was also relayed by 2RN in Dublin with the Marconi company setting up their loudspeakers in the bandstand in St. Stephens Green for those without wireless sets to listen in to the action. 

The possibility of 2RN relaying the match was raised in the Dail when Major Bryan Cooper TD,

“asked the Minister for Posts and Telegraphs whether his attention has been called to the fact that the British Broadcasting Corporation propose to broadcast a description of the Rugby Football Match between Ireland and England on Saturday, February 12th, and whether it is possible for him to have this broadcast relayed from the Dublin Broadcasting Station for the information of listeners in the Saorstát.”[2]

The Minister for Posts and Telegraphs replied,

“I have received many requests to relay this broadcast, and arrangements will be made accordingly.”

                           

 On February 26^th 1927, 2RN delivered the Irish broadcaster’s first live rugby international commentary, covering Ireland’s match against Scotland at Lansdowne Road. The commentator employed for this historic broadcast was a former Irish rugby international, Louis Magee. Magee had captained Ireland to the 1899 Triple Crown win. The ground was full, with the opening of the uncovered new East Stand adding to the capacity crowd. The weather however was terrible, lashing rain, low temperatures and wind, the pitch turning to mud field. Magee was set up along the touchline with the microphone inside a wooden box mounted on a stand. A cable ran into the stand, and a telephone line connected the broadcaster with the station headquarters in Little Denmark Street. At one stage the ball hit the microphone knocking it and the stand into the mud.

"We had the microphone out on the sideline at our first rugby broadcast," remembered Mr. William Beatty deputy chief engineer at 2RN. "At the most exciting moment in the match (when every listener must have been hanging on to the commentator's every word) the ball hit the microphone and my staff and I had to get down in the mud and repair the damage as best we could so that the wiring would be connected up with the least possible interruption.”[3]

When Magee came back on air, he told listeners that the ball had knocked the stand, referring to his microphone stand, but listeners erroneously believed that a ball had knocked down the new stand.

One week later Ireland took on Wales at Lansdowne Road in better conditions than the Scottish match. Once again Louis Magee was the commentator. One newspaper reviewer said,

‘Mr. Magee was in excellent form and the intimate naturalness of his remarks made the match as enjoyable for the listeners-in as for the thosands who were present at Lansdowne Road. I liked his adoption of the intriguing word ;melee; and also the substitution of ‘blood and hair’ for ‘vigourous’.

He did however bemoan the fac that he wasn’t a bookie as Magee offered the odds of 1000-1 on Wales scoring in the first half. Ireland led Wales at halftime 11 points to nil.

In Birr, Offaly according to the Midland Advertiser a large crwod gathered in the Chronicle Hall to listen to the wireless where,

‘the enthuasiasm of the listeners, like that of the spectators, found vent in the cheers as the Irish team added score to score’.

Meanwhile the BBC relayed the commentary from Lansdowne Road creating an even bigger audience for Magee.

 

Apart from being a winning rugby captain and a pioneer broadcaster, Magee was a Vetinerary Sugeon with interests in horse racing, one son, Sean, became well known in racing circles. Magee died in 1945 in Dunboyne where he lived with his wife. When he died his exploits on the rugby pitch playing for Ireland or as the first captain for the London-Irish club, his ventinary work, his appointment as the vet assigned to the new sport of greyhound racing in Ireland or his family’s association with horse racing were all brought to the fore but not a mention that he was a broadcasting pioneer in Ireland.

 

When I attended Marian College for my secondary education, his grandson, also known as Louis, was a teacher at the school and amrugby coach just metres from Landsowne Road where his grandfather was the first to broadcast live from that venue. His grandson would also serve as President of the Irish Rugby Football Union through his assocation with Bective Rangers.

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[1] There may have been some confusion in dates as the powerful BBC station at Rugby opened in January 1926

[2] The Dail Debates

[3] World Radio History

Ireland's First Ever Radio Advertisement Aired A Century Ago

 

‘You, too, listener, can have Archer's Sausages - remember the name – Archer’s Sausages for your breakfast. You can get them from Archer and Son, 12 Talbot Street, Dublin. They are made in a model factory in Dublin. At the same address - 12 Talbot. Street - you can get Irish beef and mutton of the finest quality at lowest city prices.’

 

This advertising message for George Archer’s pork butchers which has a unique place in Irish radio history and has a connection to Sandymount. Listeners to 2RN, the newly inaugurated Dublin radio station, on Wednesday night, April 21^st 1926, had a somewhat novel experience when for the first time in either Great Britain or Ireland, commercial advertisement was broadcast. Advertising was not the snappy ear catching thirty second commercials we hear today on RTE or commercial radio. In those days advertising consisted of short publicity talks or playlets. Archer’s was the very first and while the fledgling station needed finances other than relying on the Government exchequer, reaction to the advert was mixed. The advertisement was broadcast at 10.30pm after a fifteen-minute performance by the station orchestra.

 

George Archer was born about 1873 in England and was the son of Robert Archer, a carpenter.  He moved to Ireland and in 1890 was living at 4 Bath Avenue and working as a butcher’s foreman when he married Emma Kavanagh on 25^th November 1895 at Star of the Sea Church, Sandymount.  Emma lived at 11 Tritonville Road and was the daughter of John Kavanagh, a carpenter.   He worked for H. Williams and Co as a butcher before setting up his own business in 1909 located at 12 Talbot Street.  According to the 1901 census they couple were living in Sandymount before moving northside to live in Clontarf in 1911 and all of their seven children having survived.  George was elected vice president and later president of the Dublin Victuallers Association.  Emma died on 13^th April 1918 at 15 Vernon Avenue.  Her funeral mass was held at John the Baptist church and she was buried at Glasnevin. George died at Roebuck Grove on 19^th  October 1947 and left
39,000 in his personal estate.  He was buried at Glasnevin Cemetery.

The decision on advertising had been taken by the Dublin station on April 12^th. The Irish Independent reported,

It was announced from the Dublin Broadcasting Station last night that arrangements. are being made to set aside five minutes each night for the broadcasting at a small fee of advertisements of Irish products. Sometime ago a hint that such a thing was in contemplation was not received with favour. Listeners-in look to the service to provide entertainment and instruction and it is quite clear that at best it would be a very incomplete and unsatisfactory way for interesting the buying public who desire to see the goods and who wish to get the details in black and white.

 

This showed the fears of the newspapers that the radio service would impact their advertising revenue.

The Irish Independent reported that they were,

‘informed that 2RN (Dublin) will shortly commence broadcasting advertisements of goods manufactured in the Irish Free State, with the joint object local industries and postal revenue. The fee levied for the service to advertisers is £l per minute, and the first firm to sample the innovation was a firm sausage manufacturers.’

The full text of the Archers advertisement was as follows,

 It was a Monday morning. There was a general air of grumpiness about the Murphy household. Father was up in the bathroom wrestling with a new collar and consigning all and sundry laundries to a warmer climate. Mother was down in the kitchen driven nearly to distraction. Only that moment Katie, the maid, had told her that the oatmeal had run out and that there was not a scrap of bacon in the whole house. No porridge and no bacon! And on a Monday morning too. What would Henry say?

Fortunately, there were those sausages that the grocer had induced her to purchase on Saturday. Of course, Henry never did like sausages, but if half the grocer had said about these sausages were true, well things mightn't be so bad. Certainly, they looked nice, so plump and sweet smelling—and the grocer did say that they were the only sausages he himself ever ate.

Soon, a dozen or so round, crisp little sausages were sizzling and spluttering in the pan. Their shiny little skins took on a deeper tinge, their fat little bodies swelled and swelled so you would think any moment they must burst. They curled themselves up as it they revelled in the comforting heat. And they all smelt so delicious—so really appetising. Mrs Murphy began to think that the grocer was right. Certainly, these sausages had a more tempting aroma than any she had ever cooked; and they looked so inviting and so appetising. If only she could induce Henry to try them.

Upstairs, Henry had mastered his collar, but why would that confounded tie persist in slipping round to the wrong place? Katie's diffident knock at the door announcing breakfast made him sniff the air ominously. Sniff. "What was that?" - Sausages! Pooh! Thank goodness they knew better than to offer them to him. "Ah! No porridge—just like women, always leaving things to the last and then forgetting all about them." "Henry" it was Mrs. Murphy who spoke, “I want you to try these sausages; they are Archer's, and the grocer told me he never eats any other himself; he says he has been over Archer's model sausage factory, and now that he knows how these sausages are made and how pure and good they are, he recommends them very strongly."

Mrs. Murphy spoke, rapidly as if seeking to avert the storm that she felt must come. But it never did. Whether it was the very evident delight with which little Jimmy was devouring his share or the tempting aroma of the sausages which she had tactfully placed within easy reach of her husband—which of these things it was that worked the miracle. Mrs. Murphy never knew. All she heard was " Umph! Archer’s, are they?” from her husband, as he cut off and ate with critical deliberation a small piece… For ten minutes not another word was spoken; then when he had finished the fifth, (and last), sausage Henry lay back in his chair, and murmured, "Well, if only all sausages were like those"

‘You, too, listener, can have Archer's Sausages - remember the name – Archer’s Sausages for your breakfast. You can get them from Archer and Son, 12 Talbot Street, Dublin. They are made in a model factory in Dublin. At the same address, - 12 Talbot. Street, - you can get Irish beef and mutton of the finest quality at lowest city prices.’

This very first advertisement was four minutes long and would have cost George Archer £1 or about €85 in today’s terms. Just one thirty second advert on Ireland’s commercial radio station today would set the advertiser back approximately €1,000.  Archer’s advertisement would probably not be a script that could be aired today. It was definitely aimed at those who could afford to listen to the radio and own a wireless set as the family featured could afford to employ a made, it also demonstrated the era of the time where women, especially wives, were almost subservient to the man of the house. It also illustrates the importance in an era before supermarkets of the local butcher and grocer.

The very first commercial, corporate advertisement on Irish radio was broadcast on December 31, 1927. It was for Euthymol toothpaste, and all advertising was to be solely for the use of Irish made and manufactured products.

OUR NEXT POST WILL LOOK AT THE HISTORY OF THE FIRST RUGBY COMMENTARY MADE ON 2RN (RTE) IN 1927

 

Wireless, War and Intelligence during the Irish War of Independence

© The Irish Broadcasting Hall of Fame

Imagine a battlefield where the most valuable weapon is invisible. No rifle shot, no explosion, no military column—just a faint signal travelling silently through the air. In Ireland between 1919 and 1921, that invisible weapon was wireless. As the British authorities struggled to maintain communications across a country where telephone and telegraph lines were routinely cut, Sinn Féin and the Volunteers began to recognise that whoever could listen, intercept, disrupt or exploit the new technology might gain a crucial advantage. Wireless was still in its infancy, yet in the middle of Ireland's guerrilla war it had already become something more than a means of communication: it was becoming a weapon in the battle for information.

 

On June 15th, 1920, Dame Nellie Melba sang into a microphone at Chelmsford. This was radio broadcasting as we know it today: entertainment transmitted by wireless. Across the Irish Sea, however, wireless was being used for a completely different purpose: war. During the Irish War of Independence, wireless technology became part of an evolving struggle over communication, intelligence and military control. While neither side was able to exploit its full potential, the technology increasingly influenced how the British authorities attempted to communicate with their forces and how Sinn Féin and the Volunteers sought to intercept, disrupt and exploit those communications.

 

In 1916, the Easter rebels used their ingenuity, knowledge and tactical awareness to repair a closed wireless school, and Ireland became the first nation in the world to be declared by wireless. The rebels circumvented the strict Defence of the Realm Act (DORA), which attempted to censor and control the airwaves during the midst of the First World War. The war ended on November 11th, 1918, but within two months the first shots of the Irish War of Independence were fired. The British authorities, with the military taking the lead, attempted to maintain strict control over the new communication medium. While wireless would not have a significant impact on the guerrilla-style war, it did exercise military planners on both sides.

 

On February 1st, 1919, the police raided a Sinn Féin hall on Clonliffe Road, and twelve of the forty men present found themselves before the courts. The Freeman’s Journal reported that, when questioned, Inspector O’Flaherty stated:

‘The Inspector said they found an old bayonet and some singlesticks. A small wooden model, apparently of wireless apparatus, was also produced, and Mr O'Flaherty said it was a model from which a lot could be learned.’

Throughout the war, both sides would experiment with the use of wireless, and both would encounter problems that limited its effectiveness. In February 1919, British newspapers reported on ‘Sinn Fein Wireless’, their communications system. The Empire News reported:

‘I hear a curious tale of the Sinn Fein method of disseminating instructions and news. The system was traced to the so called ‘creameries. Whence information and messages were carried and disseminated by every market cart.’

As the war intensified throughout 1919, the Volunteers attempted to curtail the British military and police's ability to call out reinforcements or direct raids by cutting telephone and telegraph lines. The intelligence services of Sinn Féin included sympathisers in local post offices, in telephone exchanges and in the communications department of Dublin Castle. Michael Collins always believed that safest and most effective way of communication through a highly sophisticated network of human couriers and physical written despatches rather than radio transmissions. But nevertheless, wireless was a weapon of war that either needed to be harnessed or disrupted.

Towards the end of 1919, the British were relying increasingly on wireless communications. This method linked rural RIC barracks with major troop concentrations. Even the fledgling RAF was using one-way communications from surveillance aircraft to the ground. The aircraft were not capable of two-way communication. One of the problems that the Volunteers would have encountered was coded messages. This had been developed on the battlefields of the First World War, with the British attempting to prevent the Germans from understanding intercepted messages. For an observer in an aircraft, it would have been difficult, with little time and cramped facilities on board, to properly send coded messages and for someone on the ground to decode them. These delays would have made it almost impossible to send patrols quickly to an identified area. First World War military wireless technology transitioned from bulky, primitive spark-gap telegraphy into the foundation of modern two-way voice and radio communication, and this is what was to be deployed in Ireland.

By January 1920, the decision was made to furnish as many RIC county headquarters as possible with wireless telegraphy. Complaints were coming from the field. One correspondent wrote:

“I am stationed in a very special centre and on several Sundays, I’ve seen Special men[1] complain that they cannot get in touch with Dublin Castle though they have very important messages to transmit, Post Offices are closed on those days and consequently telegrams could not be sent.[2]”

In March, the Daily Mail reported that:

‘owing to the frequency with which telephone and telegraph wires are cut in Ireland, the Government authorities have decided to make extensive use of the wireless telephone there. Operators are drawn from the signal section of the navy which explains the frequent arrival in Ireland of the sailors with mysterious appliances in their bags.’[3]

Throughout May, newspapers widely reported the installation of wireless telegraphy stations in Kerry. On May 1st, wireless communications were established between the military and police barracks in Tralee and other barracks in the county. On May 15th, the Freeman’s Journal reported that naval wireless mechanics had installed a wireless apparatus in Listowel.

An advertisement in the Birmingham Evening Dispatch on May 21st, 1920, indicates the rapid advancement of wireless communications in Ireland as the War of Independence continued. The authorities, while seeking ‘wireless operators and wireless electricians, fitters and instrument makers’, singled out discharged naval men, as many would already have completed their wireless proficiency while serving at sea. The headline stated:

‘£100 Army Bounties For Wireless Operators and £50 Bounties For Wireless Electricians, Fitters and Instrument Makers.’[4]

On June 20th, a newspaper report highlighted the difficulties facing the British authorities:

‘In official Irish circles it is now admitted that the situation in Ireland is not improving but rather getting worse. Sir Hamar Greenwood and Sir Nevil Macready have been back in London without any fresh grounds for the hope that the end of the outrages is as yet in sight.

One of the main difficulties experienced by the Irish Government turns upon the communication of local news and an efficient system of intelligence. From the earliest stages of the trouble Sinn Fein has beaten the Government hollow in that particular. People who are not supporters of Sinn Fein are intimidated.

The enemy knows everything, and the Irish Government knows next to nothing. Telephone and telegraph wires can easily be cut down, but wireless cannot be so treated. The wireless installations in Ireland are wholly inadequate to cover the distances as required. A large expenditure upon wireless communication has become a necessity of the situation.

Steps will now be taken to get the wireless service made efficient as a means by which the military and police may have an improved chance of anticipating attacks upon buildings which the enemy has marked for destruction.’

These newspaper reports were having the desired effect on the Intelligence Department of Sinn Féin. When the Volunteers were raiding RIC barracks or the premises of sympathisers, they not only sought guns and ammunition to commandeer, but also attempted to seize wireless sets. Where the equipment could not be removed, it was destroyed beyond further use.

A raid on Kilbrittain RIC barracks was described by Michael Crowley in his Bureau of Military History Witness Statement:

‘This success netted us fifteen rifles and approximately 10,000 rounds of .303. Before leaving, we dismantled and removed wireless transmitter. The disarmed Marines were soon evacuated, and the building was subsequently burned by the local Volunteers. The wireless transmitter was set up with technical assistance of post office linesmen from, I think, Bandon, to the best of my recollection. Some messages between the R.I.C. barracks were intercepted, but the quickening tempo of operations in the area made it difficult effectively to operate without detection.’

Further witness statements provide an insight into how Sinn Féin and the Volunteers viewed wireless technology. Patrick McKenna from Ardfert, Kerry, stated:

“About the end of the year, Paddy Cahill, Brigade O/C, asked me if I knew of anyone in the area who understood wireless telegraphy. It so happened that a man named John Joe Sullivan, a wireless operator on one of the British Merchant ships, was home on leave at the time. Cahill suggested that we should ask his assistance in erecting a wireless station in our area, out of wireless equipment at Ballymacquinn wireless station which was not being used at the time. I contacted O'Sullivan and, with the help of the local Volunteers, dismantled and removed some of the equipment at Ballymacquinn. When it was examined and tested by the Brigade Engineer, it was found to be useless for our purpose. O'Sullivan later joined the Volunteers and did not rejoin his ship.”

Meanwhile, Liam Archer stated:

“Towards the end of 1920, or else early in 1921, we procured a British Aircraft W & T receiver and set up a listening station in a house in Nelson Street. We engaged full time on this a trained wireless operator - Delargy - but I do not recollect that we secured any tangible results. Later we secured a transmitter and receiver which we took one day to R. Barton’s in Wicklow and experimented with it, but again I recollect no tangible results.”

In early 1920, the British authorities believed they could circumvent the stalling tactics created by the Volunteers' cutting of telegraph lines by using wireless telegraphy. But just as battlefield tactics evolve to counter an opponent, Sinn Féin not only built crude wireless receivers to intercept messages but also stole wireless sets from the military and used them in an attempt to stay one step ahead of the enemy.

This was apparent when messages being sent from spotter RAF aircraft back to base were reportedly intercepted, allowing Volunteers to abandon positions and melt back into the countryside before military trucks arrived.

‘The mails and telegraph services are in the hands of Sinn Fein. Not only are mails at the stations regularly raided, trains and mail-carts held up, but Sinn Fein have their agents in the telegraph offices, who transmit to Sinn Fein agents all telegrams connected with official and military business. Some of these agents are known. When discovered they are not dismissed the Service but moved to another place where they cannot do much harm.

At Limerick station I saw baskets of homing pigeons being placed in the train under military escort. On inquiry I was told that these were for out-lying military stations to communicate with headquarters.

Listowel police barracks have been fitted with wireless, but Sinn Fein have also their wireless stations, and recently the destroyers lying in Kenmare River have been picking up Bolshevist messages from Sinn Fein, urging the crews to throw their capitalist officers overboard.

The Sinn Fein intelligence service is wonderfully complete. Their spies and agents are everywhere. There seems little doubt that Inspector Redmond was murdered as the result of a traitor in the Dublin police. The fact that certain arrests were carried out successfully when ordered by the military authorities could only be due to the fact that the “wanted persons” were warned in time, and when their houses were raided, they were gone.’[5]

The battle over the wireless airwaves continued unabated. Rural wireless continued to be rolled out, with local newspapers reporting that stations in County Limerick, including Abbeyfeale, were having wireless telegraphy installed.[6]

The authorities did have some success in hitting back in the wireless war. In August 1920, it was reported that James Merne, described as a technical instructor from Drumsna, County Leitrim, was arrested when police and military raided his house and seized a complete wireless installation.

The Daily Express in London reported on July 9th:

‘a small portable wireless has been carried about by numerous Sinn Fein secret service agents. It is chiefly employed in intercepting military wireless messages from station to station and was used during a recent search by Royal Air Force pilots and observers.’

The Daily Mail reported:

‘The National Telephone [7] premises at Cork have been raided. Several sets of wireless and telephonic instruments were taken away. Wireless is playing a prominent part in the Sinn Feiners’ campaign. They are manufacturing portable sets in the hundreds. This accounts for the rapid concentration of men in unexpected places and Sinn Fein’s knowledge of the movement of troops. A portable set is easily carried and does not demand great electrical energy[8]. It is quite satisfactory for distances of 20 or 30 miles, and the collapsible aerial which Sinn Fein is employing can be quickly set up and as quickly taken down. The source of the messages can of course be traced but when the military appear on scene, the birds have flown.’

In October, the Kerryman newspaper reported that the wireless station at Cahirsiveen was raided and ‘valuable wireless and telegraphic instruments’ were taken.

By the end of 1920, neither side had been able to take full advantage of wireless. While the Irish Volunteers had an extensive network of informers, spies, messengers and sympathisers, the British authorities were increasingly unable to rely on telephone or telegraph communications. Wireless also proved problematic, whether because of the destruction or seizure of sets, difficulties in operating equipment, or the interception of messages.

Much of the scaremongering about the failures and defects of wireless telegraphy on the battlefield came from the British press. The British military had expanded and developed the use of Marconi’s invention on the battlefields of France during the First World War. In the newly developed guerrilla warfare employed by Sinn Féin and the Volunteers, however, the British authorities sought explanations for their difficulties, and wireless was one of the factors identified.

To provide balance to the British press point of view, the Irish Independent, in a piece titled ‘What Is The Object?’, wrote:

‘For the past month or so, curious little paragraphs have been appearing in London newspapers about the success of the Irish Volunteers in tapping wireless communications sent from military commands in this country. One report stated that the Volunteers had small wireless apparatus with receiving radius of five miles, by --which they “read” messages sent from aeroplanes sent out to search for General Lucas. A later paragraph told the arrival of carrier pigeons at Dublin Castle to keep up military communications in this country. A still later item mentioned the discovery somewhere in the West of Ireland of what the military believed to be a complete wireless installation, and the latest is to the effect that the wireless apparatus in the hands of the Volunteers was captured from the military, and must be operated by ex-service men, who had experience of it at the front.

Now, whoever is responsible for the giving out of all this gratuitous information must have no very exalted opinion of the intelligence of the British public, for whose consumption it is intended. If the Volunteers are in possession of the handy five-mile-radius apparatus they are the last people in the world to give the show away. The surmise of the military who were trying to locate General Lucas, that their messages were “read” lacks confirmation from the only persons who can give it. We fancy most of the military messages are sent in code, so that more than a receiving set would be required to tap them.

But if the Volunteers are in possession of wireless apparatus, where is the occasion for surprise, considering that loyal British firms are prepared to supply anyone with wireless sets for a few pounds. One has only to take up any of the semi-scientific periodicals to find offers of everything required for wireless telegraphy, and there is no stipulation made as to the nationality or “loyalty” of the purchaser. English electric apparatus makers appear just as willing to trade with any customer as were Birmingham traders to supply guns in the good old days.’

In July 1921, shortly before the declaration of the Truce, the Daily Mirror reported on a raid in Tralee where a ‘Sinn Fein Wireless was Seized’, along with signalling flags, revolvers, ammunition and gelignite.

Conclusion

Wireless communication occupied an important, if often overlooked, position within the technological history of the Irish War of Independence. The evidence demonstrates that its significance lay less in transforming the conflict into a technologically driven war than in becoming another contested means of communication, intelligence gathering and counter-intelligence. The British authorities increasingly recognised wireless as a potential solution to the vulnerability of telephone and telegraph networks, particularly as lines were repeatedly cut and local communications were disrupted. At the same time, Sinn Féin and the Volunteers sought to exploit the same technology through interception, acquisition and experimentation.

Contemporary newspaper reports frequently presented wireless in dramatic terms, sometimes attributing considerable effectiveness to Sinn Féin's interception capabilities. However, the surviving witness statements suggest a more complicated reality. Volunteers encountered technical difficulties, unreliable equipment and a shortage of suitably trained operators. British installations faced similar problems, while the mobile and clandestine nature of guerrilla warfare limited the practical value of fixed communications infrastructure. Wireless therefore became part of a wider intelligence system that also incorporated sympathetic officials, postal and telephone workers, couriers, informers and traditional methods of communication.

The history of wireless during the conflict consequently illustrates an important transitional moment in Irish communications history: new technology was being introduced into an old struggle for information, but its effectiveness remained dependent upon people, infrastructure, technical knowledge and the circumstances in which it was deployed.

© The Irish Broadcasting Hall of Fame

 Notes

[1] Special Branch, plain-clothes detectives.

[2] A letter signed ‘Aerial’ and published in the Constabulary Gazette, January 31st, 1920.

[3] Edinburgh Evening Dispatch, March 29th, 1920.

[4] Evening Daily Dispatch, May 21st, 1920.

[5] Roscommon Herald, June 19th, 1920.

[6] July 10th, 1920.

[7] The National Telephone Company was formed in 1893, replacing the Telephone Company of Ireland.

[8] Most wireless transmitting sets, especially portable sets, required battery power rather than mains electricity.

Sources

The Bureau of Military History

The World Radio Online Archive

The US Library of Congress Newspaper Archive

The Irish Newspaper Archives

The British Newspaper Archives

The National Library of Ireland

The National Archives of Ireland

The National Archives Kew Gardens