We must never forget our debt to the Gardaí, who always stand between us and our nation’s enemies

I was there for a while and it dawned on me that this was the funeral of a hero who stood for the state and stood by the state. The last post sounded as the coffin was lowered.

The birds resumed their singing and chirping. The birdsong was the only sound in the still. The last post is usually played when it’s time to move on, and Ben O’Sullivan was sent on his way to the next station by his family and his Garda family.

I knew Ben. He was Jerry McCabe’s Garda partner. Jerry was shot dead on duty in Adare in 1996. Ben was badly wounded.

I read how Ben was awarded a Scott Medal for bravery in 1994 when he disarmed a man in Limerick at great risk to his own safety.

Jerry was a neighbor from Ballylongford, further up the Shannon Estuary. Our fathers were friends, and we often shared a few pints at Willie Sexton’s when Jerry turned in his work on Henry Street. He was cheerful, very friendly and very much the family man.

In the years after Jerry’s death, I became even better friends with the McCabes. You’re an honor to Jerry. The futility of violence on behalf of our people without our consent was accepted by all of us for what it was.

Jerry didn’t die for nothing and Ben didn’t endure such pain for nothing. He went through his share. Sometimes we see the raw statistics and the word wounded pops up, but we only think of those who were killed. Wounded often lasts a lifetime. Wounded affects both the spirit and the body. Ben often woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat. Wounded.

The Garda Band played in Listowel last week to celebrate the 100th anniversary of our own taking over the old RIC station on Church Street. The parade left Garda station and marched through the city. One of the gardaí glanced at his family. They were proud of him. He looked so handsome and professional as he marched to the beat of the rousing marches.

Behind the main phalanx were the retired gardaí. They too were proud to be there. Old friends met and the bond forged in service was as strong as ever. A hundred years is a long time to hold the line. I knew most of the old hands, both as a man and as a boy. They all served at Listowel for a while. I’ve met very few bad ones.

The challenges some faced when I was a boy were tough enough. Pay and conditions were poor for many years. There was always physical danger.

This country is now locked in a battle for the hearts and souls of our young people. The drug dealers are the new Black and Tans, they are the enemies of our nation and all that stands between them and us are the Gardaí.

The streets were lined with people coming out to show their appreciation for the men and women who marched down Church Street the way the murderous Tans took 100 years ago when they left Listowel.

The celebrations were comforting. The march was a demonstration of support by and for the force.

There used to be bravery here. The local RIC staged a mutiny in June 1920 against a sight-shooting policy orchestrated by the British Army. It was the first police force to rival empire power anywhere in this powerful but callous empire.

The families of the mutineers were honored last summer and I had the privilege of receiving them in our pub where the mutiny was planned.

Commissioner Drew Harris spoke of the bravery of the mutineers and he spoke of the members of the force who died in the line of duty. There were 89 in all. I never thought that so many Gardaí died for Ireland.

The sad news is that more will die in the line of duty. Society is more dangerous than ever. Every time a Garda goes to work there is a risk that he or she will not come home. The music brought me back to Kilcornan and The last post. Today’s march can be tomorrow’s lament.

Then there are the wounded. Good luck to Garda Mary Gardiner, the dancing cop who is undergoing cancer treatment. She was beaten up by thugs a few years ago, but Mary got back to work. She doesn’t give in.

She is a mother and a community garda reminding us that our police are the ties that bind and care. The Commissioner spoke of “a critical partnership” between us and the Gardaí.

Mary had all the neighbors dancing at a distance during Covid. It’s a sport and the Cork woman is the Queen of Kerry. She broke the internet.

Commissioner Harris was telling the story of Garda John O’Donnell, who was enjoying the beach in Ballybunion in his spare time, when he noticed two girls were getting into trouble. He came to their aid and managed to bring the two safely to shore. Garda O’Donnell was swept out to sea by an unusual wave. This brave man drowned in July 1940.

Sergeant James Woods was shot dead here in Kerry on December 3, 1923 when he refused to surrender his uniform to armed assailants.

Everything is not perfect. The current recruitment campaign is not as successful as it could be. There needs to be some sort of rent subsidy payment for those who live in Dublin and the cities.

We need more gardaí on site. You can never have enough gardaí. Perhaps it is too dangerous for a Garda to face danger alone. We remember Colm Horkan who was killed on duty in Castlerea when he was attacked and shot with his own gun.

That look I told you about when the Garda looked away from looking straight for a second to make eye contact with his family showed us that the love and pride of wearing the uniform is still there. courage too. Likewise loyalty to the state, which they secured and saved.

The Gardaí deserve our thanks and support for 100 years of service to our country.