Beer flowed freely as the night progressed. ‘Twas a songsters’ night as everyone had to sing a song or give a recitation; failing to give either meant ‘sticking’ drinks around… …Corporal Maher sung a song which extolled the virtues of all Irishmen who had been generals in the British Army. Each one had a verse all to himself; Kelly Kenny, Kitchener, French, dear old Roberts. Wellington came last on the roll. He made a supreme mess of the ‘Iron Duke’. This is the concluding line of the song as he sang it: ‘And an Irishman named Blucher won the Battle of Waterloo.’ I became rigid; my heart stopped beating. Had he gone mad? Did he ever read history? Did the Englishmen hear him? No - they could not, as they were all applauding. A couple might, but they glossed over it. I shook the finger of admonition at him across the table. I told him to go to school again. ‘…If the Iron Duke heard you tonight he would turn in his grave. Give up singing, Maher, and learn how to play a tin whistle.’ << less