Michael Donoghue’s son, Patrick, has sent us some excellent photos of his father’s time with the 1st Bn. London Irish in the Middle East and Italy, and which we reproduce below:
“Dad rarely spoke of the war. In fact I can only remember two occasions when he did. One was when
he was captured by the Germans during a night patrol in the desert. He had been told that the
German soldiers had been ordered not to take prisoners and the only alternative was death.
Fortunately, for him and his crew, they showed compassion and set them free. The second time was when he told the story of an Italian battalion surrendering to a platoon of British soldiers.
Dad enlisted in 1940 and was in North Africa, Sicily and Italy. He came home with a piece of shrapnel in his skull which triggered epileptic fits at unpredictable times – riding his motorbike, while in the attic, playing cricket. His brothers and sisters all agreed he was not, both physically and mentally, the same man as before the war.
I bless my mother’s cotton socks for keeping us all together.”
