ON SATURDAY 14 APRIL 1979, three boys were killed and 10 other children injured when an Army shell exploded in the Glen of Imaal, a rugged, scenic area of the western Wicklow mountains.
The victims were part of a group of children and youth leaders from St Mary’s Youth Club in Lucan who had travelled to the Glen for the Easter weekend to hike up Lugnaquilla, one of Ireland’s highest mountains.
Along the way, the group entered Defence Forces lands. As well as being a popular destination for tourists and hikers, 6,000 acres of the Glen is used as Ireland’s largest Defence Forces live firing range.
They came across an old tank that was in use at the time as a target, and one of the boys picked up an object that he thought might be a part of an engine or the starter motor of a vehicle. Later, another member of the group threw the object against a rock and it exploded.
The object in question was an unexploded 84mm Rcl HEAT - High Explosive Anti Tank – shell. It was what is known as a “blind”, a round fired during Army training exercises that does not explode on impact and goes missing.
Two boys died almost instantly. Another died later in hospital. Others were severely injured in the blast.
Although the explosion and political fallout dominated the headlines in the following days and weeks, the news cycle moved on quickly and the events of that day and the victims faded almost entirely from public view.
However, 45 years later, survivors still suffer from the physical and mental repercussions of the explosion and remain angry about what happened. While the Government eventually paid out compensation following legal battles, no official apology was ever offered to the survivors or their families.
An extensive investigation by The Journal Investigates team into the blast and its aftermath reveals how:
The investigation is based on an analysis of declassified reports – revealed here for the first time – and eyewitness testimony from those who survived the blast, as well as extensive research into archive material.
Speaking publicly for the first time to The Journal Investigates, Ron O’Neill – one of the boys seriously injured in the blast who has suffered lifelong physical and psychological damage as a result – says:
“It should never have happened, number one, because if it’s an artillery… or Defence Forces property, it should have been properly secured so that nobody could get in.”
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The St Mary’s Youth Club arrived at the Ballinclea youth hostel in the Glen of Imaal on the evening of Friday, 13 April 1979.
After an overnight stay, a group of 26 children and six youth leaders ate their breakfast, made sandwiches, and set out after 11am to hike up Lugnaquilla Mountain, the highest mountain in Ireland outside of Kerry.
At the time, Lucan was a relatively small village of about 6,000 people on the western outskirts of Dublin. The children on the trip were from Lucan itself or the surrounding areas. Many came from Sarsfield Park, a council housing estate that had been built in the village in the early 1960s.
A rare chance to get out of Lucan and see the countryside was an exciting prospect, and spirits were high.
Ron O’Neill, from Dodsboro, near to Lucan Village, was just 11 years old and the youngest person on the trip. The minimum age to be allowed to join the outing was 12, but as it was Ron’s birthday the following week he was given permission to go.
“Lucky me,” he says, sitting in his home in Celbridge, Co Kildare, 45 years later.
After walking for a few miles, the group turned off the road and continued in the direction of Lugnaquilla. According to newspaper reports from the time, and witnesses speaking to The Journal Investigates in recent months, at a certain point the group passed a sign.
The sign contained a number of legalistic warnings, chief among them was the fact that the land ahead was a Defence Forces firing and artillery range, and that if red flags were flying the group was not to enter. Survivors later said they did not understand the bulk of what they were reading.
“The sign said if there was red flags flying you can’t enter,” says Brian Malone, who was also on the the trip that day. Brian was 12 years old at the time and from Sarsfield Park.
It was Easter. There was no flags flying so obviously we were going to climb Lugnaquilla and we went in.
Niall Callaghan, 14 at the time and from Sarsfield Park, says there was “nothing to say we shouldn’t have been in the area” at the time.
“I do remember a sign saying that if red flags were flying there would be danger, there’d be firing in the area and stuff like that, but there was none of that,” he says.
According to Gary Marten, who was 12 and also from Sarsfield Park, the group soon came to the old tank – known as the Churchill Tank – that was in use as a target for firing practice.
“We went in and we saw this old tank. The ruins of an old tank. For the younger lads that was like, woah! So we were all over this thing,” he says.
Ron O’Neill also recalls playing on and around the tank.
After resting for about a half an hour, they continued towards the mountain. The group decided to split up in order to cross the Knickeen River, with some children and youth leaders wading through deeper water and the rest continuing upstream to cross at a more shallow point.
Ron was in the second group with his friend. He had just made it the other side of the river and was walking to rejoin the first group when “this thing landed between my legs”, he says.
“One of the other lads had thrown this thing that they had found and it landed between my legs.
“It was all soft and mushy there. So I pulled it up from between my legs and literally what it looked like was the head of a giant dart. That’s what it looked like.
And on the side of it you could read the words ‘Red Heat’.
Niall Callaghan said that he and a few others had gone a separate route from the main group, and caught up with them after the object had already been found.
“I actually had it in my hand at one stage, believe it or not, and I actually didn’t know what it was, because I was only 14 years of age. So I didn’t know,” he says.
“And I actually threw it across a bit of a stream, and lucky enough it landed on its side.”
Brian Malone and Gary Marten recall playing with the object, too. The boys thought it might be the starting motor or the carburettor from a vehicle’s engine, or something similar.
Members of the group passed it around and stuck it into the soft, marshy ground.
As the group walked up the hill, a debate ensued over what the object actually was. In the midst of this, one of the boys took it from another one and threw it against a rock. It exploded.
“My initial reaction was… I put my hands up straight away because I seen the blast and the flash, and I put my hands up,” says Ron.
“And then I just felt myself being thrown in the air. It happened so quick, then I was on the ground. I did try to get up, but then I caught sight of my legs.
And I knew I couldn’t get up.”
One of Ron’s legs was hanging off and both his knees were severely damaged. He said he felt no pain initially, just shock, and that an eerie silence followed the blast. All he could hear was the ticking of his watch.
Gary Marten had been walking with his friend Derek Finn, but fell behind to help another child cross the river and climb a small wall. He was a greater distance from the site of the explosion and was uninjured.
Brian was standing next to the blast when it happened.
“I was lucky. I was literally probably two yards from [the person who threw it]. So when a bomb goes off, it spreads. So it hit me from the knees down, took half my muscle out and my ankle and that,” he says.
Those who were slightly further away from the blast than Brian suffered worse consequences due to the way the shrapnel spread, he says.
Niall says he had been standing in the middle of the group just moments before the explosion, but had decided to run towards Lugnaquilla at the last minute and was yards away from the blast when it occurred.
“I literally ran. I don’t know why… I ran and next thing I heard an explosion behind me. I actually didn’t see an explosion, it all happened behind me,” he says.
Brian Malone describes a scene of devastation following the explosion, with children screaming and wailing and covered in blood. Some like Ron had their limbs almost severed, and would later have to undergo emergency surgery to survive.
One boy had his eye hanging out, another was very badly burnt.
Two boys died immediately following the blast, Derek Finn (13) and Declan Kane (13). Another boy, Victor Mills (12), was pronounced dead later after arriving at the hospital.
All three were from Sarsfield Park.
Ten children were injured (eight boys and two girls), five critically. Some of the injuries included severed and severely damaged limbs, shattered bones, burning and shrapnel damage. Others suffered long-term psychological trauma that would echo throughout their lives.
Without realising it, St Mary’s Youth Club had wandered into a total no-go zone. An extensive search of the area in the weeks following the blast uncovered another 54 live shells.
These included 15 anti-tank shells, 27 artillery shells, and 12 cavalry shells. A further 36 objects were also found in the Dublin area and elsewhere that had been removed from the range. Of these, seven were live shells.
“We were in a minefield,” says Brian Malone, today.
“If they knew that there was that much ordinance that was possibly live, it should have been restricted. It should have been totally closed off,” says Ron O’Neill.
An investigating Garda, who was present on the scene, told The Journal Investigates that he had inspected the area following the explosion.
“In a follow-up search, I found an unexploded device, rocket like, glistening in a pool of water,” he said.
“I marked the spot and informed the Army. I would expect these rockets would have to hit something solid to cause them to explode.
It appears the Army did not have a policy for searching for the unexploded devices. The area where I found the device [was] wet marshland.
The explosion after the shell hit the rock was heard for miles around.
Hikers, local farmers, loggers and campers in the area rushed to the scene, later describing the carnage they came across. At first, those caught in the blast thought they were under Army fire, and some ran for cover and to get help.
“I can’t remember if someone said, ‘Are they firing at us?’ Someone else said a minefield or something,” recalls Gary.
“You were afraid to move but afraid to stay, you know? But eventually, I think [a youth leader] grabbed me and threw me over the wall and said, ‘Get going’, because I was just staring and looking at the… the results.”
Niall Callaghan said that once he heard the explosion, he turned around and “realised then what had happened”.
“I knew it was a bomb of some sort. I didn’t know what it was. Then I thought I was in a minefield at that stage. I literally went into shock, as you can imagine.”
He describes taking large steps, in case there were mines beneath the ground.
“I turned back and walked through people injured, and unfortunately a few of my friends who had died.”
Speaking to the Sunday Press at the time, local doctor Pat McCarthy from Naas, Co Kildare, described what he saw when he arrived on the scene as “unbelievable, and the worst horror I’ve seen in my life”.
Because of the difficult terrain and inaccessible location, ambulances were unable to reach the victims and it took hours for proper assistance to arrive. Ron recalls being helped by a local rescue team.
“They initially went around checking everybody, just checking their vitals. I remember they cut my – I had a coat on – and they cut that off, at that stage it had started to rain,” he says.
“And I was covered with… what I thought was muck, but it wasn’t, I was covered in blood.
“And it was drying on my face. And it seemed like forever that nothing was happening.
And then, all of a sudden, a helicopter arrived.
An Air Corps helicopter transported two of the worst injured – Gráinne Condron and Richard O’Neill - to St Vincent’s Hospital in Dublin.
Within two hours, a team of local doctors was administering medical aid to the rest of the victims. Loggers and farmers arrived with tractors and trailers to help the medical workers transport people back across the Knickeen River where ambulances were waiting.
Ron remembers that they wanted to amputate his leg there and then.
“I had a few words with them, as an 11-year-old, I did,” he says.
“What they did was they put me in a vacuum splint and that’s what stopped me from bleeding out and actually losing the leg.”
Some of the children – including Ron, Brian, and Victor, who later died – were first taken to Naas Hospital in Kildare, but then transferred to Temple Street in Dublin.
Others were taken to St James’s Hospital.
The victims had to undergo emergency surgeries, amputations, and intensive rehabilitation for a variety of injuries, mostly to the lower parts of their bodies.
“The right leg was broken in five places. I completely lost most of my calf muscle, so it was blown right through on the lower extremities,” says Ron.
“A lot of damage to the kneecap. They had to put the cage system — which was basically bars back then through the bone — on the right leg. The left was broken in three places, and damage to the kneecap.
And then I had minor injuries to the chest, face and underarms, because I had put my arms up to shield it.
He spent two months in Temple Street and had to undergo years of rehabilitation.
Brian Malone was also badly injured.
“I lost half my calf muscle in the right leg and I had shrapnel in my left ankle,” he says.
But years ago we used to wear monkey boots. Like Doc Martens, but cheaper versions.
“And I got a blast through my ankle but luckily enough I had boots on, the leather slowed it down it only went halfway into my ankle.”
Still, Brian also had to face years of rehab and significant long-term physical and mental issues. As a boy, he had been a promising young footballer and was due to travel to England for trials.
“I won the final for the school and in the newspaper they said… I was to go to Arsenal, Liverpool and Stoke,” he says. Any future football career was effectively ended the day of the explosion.
The boys spent weeks together in Temple Street with another victim, David Reid. They recall how the staff were kind to them and how Brazilian soccer legend Pelé visited them one day.
Pelé was in Ireland as an Ambassador for Unicef promoting a charity football match, and stopped by to visit children in the hospital and sign autographs. Brian was due to leave the hospital that day to go to rehab, but begged the nurse to let him stay to meet his hero.
The Army artillery and firing range makes up 5,948 acres of the Glen, and the lands have been the site of much tragedy since they were brought into use by the military in 1895, first by British forces and later the Irish Defence Forces.
For many years, most civilians could get nowhere near the Glen, due to its isolated location. By the 1970s it was a short drive from Dublin and had become increasingly popular with walkers, day-trippers and campers.
There had been a number of fatalities over the decades involving soldiers during firing practice, but what the St Mary’s Youth Club – and many other people – did not know at the time was that just seven months before the events of April 1979 a very similar incident had occurred at the Glen.
On 1 September 1978, three boys were injured in near-identical circumstances to what happened the following year.
These boys were on a trip with a priest from Dublin and staying at the Seskin School, near to the entrance to the firing range. Unlike with what occurred in April 1979, the group had been warned away from the Glen by Army officers, but the next day one of the boys sounded the alarm after all three were injured.
According to a report in the Evening Herald, the group had found a shell and one of the boys had thrown it against a rock, injuring all three, one badly. Following the incident, a local curate, Father Kevin Lyon, spoke to the Herald and was highly critical of safety measures at the Glen.
“There must be an urgent review of the safety regulations,” he said.
So far they have been totally inadequate to protect civilians.
Fr Lyon — described in the article as an Army chaplain — said that the discovery of shells by farmers and loggers in the area had reached a staggering level, and everyone in the area was critical of Army safety procedures on the range.
While he did say that there were adequate warning signs, he also said the area needed to be cordoned off and a “thorough inspection” of the range carried out.
The Herald article quotes an Army spokesman who dismissed the idea of carrying out large-scale searches of the area as impractical. The spokesperson also rejected the idea of building a wall around the Glen, or having regular foot or helicopter patrols in the area.
“The only thing that seems likely at present is that we will put up more signs and make them more alarming,” the spokesperson said.
Declassified Defence Forces documents show that Army command appeared to focus on perception of Army activities within the Glen by locals in the area and took issue with Fr Lyon’s statements.
In a document titled a “memorandum in relation to statements made by Father Lyon“, it is stated:
“The Chief of Staff also intimated that in view of the remarks attributed to Fr Lyon in the newspaper reports, Fr Lyon would not be acceptable in future as an officiating Clergyman.”
In a declassified report titled “Reactions of civilians in local area to Glen of Imaal explosion (September 1978)”, its author reveals one line of work undertaken:
“A request was received from the provost marshall on the 6th Sep 78 for information on Fr Lyons [sic] referencing his alleged statement to the Press with regard to dangerous missiles in the Glen of Imaal”.
“A [Military Police captain] was briefed by me and proceeded to the Glen of Imaal on the 7th September 79. Attached is a copy of his report.”
The Provost Marshall is the head of the Military Police Corps, the law enforcement agency within the Defence Forces. The report details a visit by a captain to the Glen of Imaal in order to get answers to the following questions:
The captain made “discreet” enquiries with gardaí and locals in relation to Fr Lyon’s statements.
The confidential report quotes an anonymous source who said that Fr Lyon was at odds with his parish priest and was not well known in the area, and that there was no support for his statement locally. The captain concluded that:
“In general the local opinion seems to be that Fr Lyons [sic] was seeking self publicity in making his statement to the press” and said that “there is no basis for Fr Lyons [sic] statements to the Press“.
Fr Lyon went on to spend decades as a well-known parish priest in Blessington and became Archdeacon of Glendalough Parochial House. He was a highly popular priest during his time in Donard and Blessington, and there is no suggestion of any ill will to him in the area.
A Defence Forces spokesperson did not comment when questioned by The Journal Investigates over why the Army had looked into Fr Lyon rather than focus more on his criticisms. Fr Lyon was also present after the April explosion and gave last rites to Declan and Derek, where he again called for the Glen to be sealed off.
Fr Lyon said at the time that the scene following the blast was “too horrible to describe”.
He died in January 2023 at the age of 90.
Following the September accident, the Army committed to erecting more warning notices, and writing to An Óige – the youth hostel group that owned the Ballinclea hostel – and other youth groups about the dangers in the Glen.
The Army did write to An Óige and other groups, but documents confirm that no new warning notices were put up between September and the April explosion.
An Irish Independent article from after the April blast claimed that this was the result of a communications breakdown between the Army and the Board of Works, the state’s property and engineering agency (now the Office of Public Works).
The article, quoting a “senior garda source” stated that a new series of Army notices “lie rotting” in an Army store awaiting erection by the Board of Works.
In response to a press question about what measures had been taken after the September 1978 accident (in which the three boys were injured) to ensure the same thing would not happen again, a press briefing note says:
“A decision was made to erect more effective warning signs. The signs to be erected this Spring. The proposed locations for some of the signs are inaccessible during the Winter.”
(The Defence Forces did not comment when asked by The Journal Investigates why the signs had not been put up)
The note also said that extensive searches of the area had been carried out following the explosion.
The explosion and the deaths of the young boys dominated front pages immediately following the blast, before gradually being pushed back further into the newspapers.
“Youngsters die Imaal blast - GLEN OF DEATH” read the headline in the Sunday Press the day after the blast.
“Close valley of death – demand,” said the following Monday’s Irish Independent.
There were various calls for the Glen to be closed, fenced off, and no longer used as a firing range. The day after the incident, Minister for Defence at the time, Robert “Bobby” Molloy, expressed his sympathy with those affected and ordered an Army investigation.
However, the Defence Forces and the minister stopped well short of accepting liability for what had happened on Army land. Indeed, official statements started to focus on the behaviour of the youth group.
According to a report in the Cork Examiner from Monday, 16 April, a Defence Forces spokesperson expressed deep regret at the tragedy but “pointed out that the group were in a clearly marked restricted zone”.
The article continued paraphrasing the spokesperson:
“They had passed three signposts clearly stating they were entering a restricted zone. Those notices said clearly that if any projectile or part of one was found, it was not to be touched, but reported to the authorities.”
At no point was it mentioned that additional signs that were due to be put up had never been erected.
Members of St Mary’s Youth Club took issue with claims that the children weren’t properly supervised, and stated that the group only passed one sign – which warned against entering the Glen if red flags were flying. A Sunday Press report included an interview with one of the youth leaders, and read:
“There were signs up before they entered the area warning against entering it if red flags were flying. Since there were no red flags flying, they assumed it was safe to go through.”
During the inquests into the deaths of the three boys, the 22-year-old chairman of St Mary’s Youth Club repeated that as there were no flags flying, he thought it was safe to enter the Glen: “We saw a sign which I stopped to read,” he told the court, according to contemporaneous reports of the time.
The impression I got was that if the red flag was flying it was dangerous to enter. As there was no flag flying, I decided that it was safe to carry on.”
There were no red flags flying on the day, as Army firing exercises were not taking place. However, as a later report into the explosion would note, there was confusion around the flying of the flag, with people assuming the area was safe if no flag was flying.
The report also noted that the warden in the Ballinclea youth hostel “only advised visitors on the dangers if firing was in progress”.
Speaking to The Journal Investigates, Niall Callaghan said that “definitely there was no signs up on that day to say that it was unsafe to go into that area.”
“I would’ve remembered. And I do remember seeing a couple of signs, but there was nothing on them to tell us do not enter this property, that it was unsafe to do so.”
The funerals for Derek, Declan and Victor were held in St Mary’s Church in Lucan on Tuesday, 17 April, where a crowd of almost 2,000 attended.
Later that week, Defence Minister Molloy released a more lengthy statement, saying that the threat of shells surfacing on the Glen at any time was a continuous one and therefore the lands in the Glen of Imaal could never be considered fully safe.
The risk of ricochets and shells becoming buried in soft ground meant that there was always a danger of unexploded shells being discovered, the minister said.
“Members of the public are warned by permanent notices on the lands of the risk of touching a projectile or part of a projectile found on the lands,” Minister Molloy said.
The minister also said an An Óige had been made aware of the dangers “following on the unfortunate incident last September involving some youths who were injured”.
However, as declassified military reports reveal, there were no notices in the Ballinclea youth hostel that weekend warning of the dangers of interfering with objects on the Glen.
The minister quickly ordered an investigation into the explosion which was carried out by Colonel P. Daly and delivered to the minister on 26 April 1979, 12 days after the blast.
However, it was classified at the time and the details are being reported here for the first time.
Daly reported that there were 21 signs in the Glen when the St Mary’s Youth Club visited and that the group may have encountered up to four notices if approaching the area from Ballinclea but that “they need NOT have passed any”.
He said the notices contained information of a legalistic nature, and concluded that in his view the notices met the requirements of the Defence Forces Act, 1954, around range safety, “but would have little impact on many people, particularly the youth”.
Daly also said there was confusion around the flying of the flag and that the warden in the Ballinclea youth hostel “only advised visitors on the dangers if firing was in progress”.
He noted that when searching for “blinds” (shells and ammunition that were not accounted for) after firing exercises, men may be tired and hungry, and he suggested searches should be left until the next day and cover a wider area.
Daly recommended that a permanent camp staff be employed at the Glen which could “reduce the risks enormously”.
At the time, there was no permanent camp staff with responsibility for maintaining public safety at the Glen. Daly concluded that the area should remain open as a firing range.
Following Colonel Daly’s report, a decision was taken to erect 75 new warning notices “as a matter of urgency”. It was expected at the time that the signs would be in situ by the middle of May.
The Army also carried out searches of the Glen on 14, 18, 20 and 27 April, during which they found the 54 live shells.
Minister Molloy answered questions in the Dáil on 3 May, after he had received Daly’s report, and the Seanad on 16 May.
When an opposition TD put it him that the responsibility “must lie with the Department of Defence”, Molloy replied:
“I accept that responsibility rests with the Department to take precautions and to take steps to ensure that there are adequate safety precautions. I am satisfied the Department have fulfilled their responsibility in this matter.”
He did not mention Daly’s findings in relation to warning signs or the number of blinds, nor did he mention that additional signs had not been erected between the September and April incidents.
Molloy also responded to questions raised by Senator Eileen Cassidy in the Seanad on 16 May 1979. Cassidy, who was living in the western Wicklow area, said that there were serious concerns locally about the frequency of accidents occurring at the Glen.
She expressed “the grave disquiet that is widely felt locally at the absence of any safety precautions or of any attempt to ensure that live ammunition is rendered harmless to people who may for one reason or another be in the Glen”.
“The public are entitled to expect the State, in this case the Minister, to assume and to be seen to assume the responsibility for policing the area and to take all necessary precautions, not merely all possible precautions, to ensure that this kind of appalling tragedy will never happen again,” Cassidy said.
In response, Molloy recounted the events of the day (borrowing verbatim from Daly’s report, which was classified at the time), and again said the Glen was not safe and that members of the public were warned by notices at the site.
He said the Army had written to youth groups following the September blast, but did not recount anything about the additional warning signs that were not erected.
Following this, Molloy established a committee to examine safety at the Glen.
The committee reported back in September 1979 with a number of recommendations.
Its members found that the warning notices that were in place were not satisfactory for a number of reasons. There were eight different forms of warning notice that might confuse the public and lose their effect, the committee declared.
The wording of some notices “was too legalistic” and the distribution of notices left gaps in the perimeter (especially in the east and south), according to the group.
It recommended that the types of notices be reduced, and that a permanent Safety Officer with staff be employed at the Glen. They also recommended that the Churchill Tank be removed as a target:
“The reason for this recommendation is that old vehicles of these types are practically an irresistible attraction for young boys and it is in their vicinity that live projectiles are most likely to be found,” the committee concluded.
Following the report, a general officer commanding wrote a note agreeing that an officer should be employed to ensure the Glen was safe. He also said that “the practice of using scrap vehicles as targets is not good and these should now be removed from the Glen of Imaal”.
“The Churchill Tank is serving no useful purpose. In fact steps have been taken to have these old vehicles and the tank removed from the GoI. A suitable anti-tank target will have to be designed to replace them. They should be of a type which are not attractive to young people.”
A Defence Forces spokesperson told The Journal Investigates that the force had “significantly increased safety measures in and around the Range Area in the Glen of Imaal, which are subject to a yearly inspection and audit”.
A permanent camp staff are also now employed in the area, and there have been no reported accidents since the April 1979 explosion.
Bobby Molloy was replaced as Minister for Defence in December 1979, following the resignation of Jack Lynch as Taoiseach and his replacement with Charles Haughey.
Molloy would go on to serve in a number of minister and junior minister roles in various government before his retirement in 2002. He died in 2016.
As the committee was doing its work, inquests were held in Baltinglass Coroner’s Court in Wicklow on Thursday 12 July 1979.
Many of the children gave evidence at the inquests about what they had seen and what had happened. The State Pathologist at the time, Dr. John Harbison, gave the causes of death of three boys, and a jury returned a verdict in keeping with the medical evidence that the boys died from wounds inflicted by the penetration of shrapnel.
Ron O’Neill remembers a large group of them travelling from Lucan to attend the inquests.
“I can’t recall much of the detail or any of the detail really, to be honest,” he says. “But I know at one stage, they asked us all to leave the court. They said it was a break. But they actually stayed in the court. And it was about 20 minutes later, and we were all called back in. And then a short time after that it finished up.
“I don’t remember a verdict at the inquests. I don’t remember hearing it.
And from then on, I suppose, it was up to everyone to do their own thing.”
As summer turned to autumn, reporting on the Glen of Imaal tragedy almost entirely disappeared from the national newspapers. The year 1979 was a tumultuous one in Ireland. It was the worst year ever at that point for industrial disputes, with frequent nationwide strikes taking place across the country.
On 27 August, Lord Louis Mountbatten’s fishing boat was blown up by the IRA, killing a close relative of the British Royal Family. On the same day, 18 British Army soldiers were killed by the IRA in the Warrenpoint ambush. In September, over one million people went to the Phoenix Park to see Pope John Paul II celebrate Mass.
Within this context, what happened in the Glen quickly faded from the public consciousness. A report from July of that year details how the families of the victims were launching a claim against the state to sue for compensation for their children’s injuries.
Over 45 years after the accident, Ron, Brian and Gary still suffer from the consequences.
“I’m still suffering from it both mentally and physically. The long-term repercussion is osteoarthritis at a very early stage, it started to get me when I was 38,” says Ron, now aged 57.
Osteoarthritis is a degenerative condition of the bone and joint cartilage, and usually occurs later in life.
Ron says his surgeon delayed the process of replacement for as long as he deemed suitable, but he had his first hip replacement when he was 40.
“So it was the right hip first, and then the right knee and then the left hip, and then the left knee,” says Ron.
So it’ll be ongoing until I finally kick the bucket.”
As well as his physical injuries and issues, Ron has been on medication for many years to help combat the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety and depression, all connected to the blast.
“There was no counselling, there was no, you know, talk of are you suffering or anything. I think it was only a few years later, I was diagnosed with PTSD,” he says.
“And the slightest trigger will give me that flashback. I’ll have those. I can walk through that day spot on. The way it affects me is at night if I’m going asleep and somebody just flicking a switch.
And that noise will trigger that flashback, I’ll see that flash.
“It brings you back temporarily. And then I’ve learned skills myself over the years to sort of put that back.”
For Gary, PTSD and survivor’s guilt has haunted him throughout his life.
“It still has me fucked,” he says.
“We never got to see a doctor or nothing. I came home on the minibus with a lad who lived around the corner. Just the two of us bringing all the bags home. The bus just pulls up and you get out, just walk home, that was it.”
Brian also has chronic health issues and psychological trauma as a result. He said his bones are weak and last year he had an operation to put seven plates in his left ankle, before he fell and broke it.
“And then a month ago on crutches I fell over and done the other one and got plates in that, so now I’m bedridden,” he says.
I just think of what could have happened if things were different.”
The men still have questions about how they were able to end up in the heart of an Army firing range, full of unexploded ordnance, without realising the danger they were in.
They also have deep anger at the Defence Forces and the Government of the day for how they were treated following the blast.
Local Lucan solicitor Barry Bowman represented the majority of the victims, including Ron and Brian. Bowman, who is still practicing, recently spoke to The Journal Investigates generally about the case (client privilege meant he could not speak to specifics). The solicitor has a keen interest in military history and the military in general, and knew the Glen of Imaal area well at the time.
“It should never have happened and they should never have been allowed walk through this area,” says Bowman.
The solicitor believes the Army was negligent in safety issues at the Glen, but it was his job to prove it. The State defended itself in the case, admitting nothing and refusing to reach an early settlement.
Their particular case took six years to reach the stage where it was to be heard in the High Court. On the day of the hearing, in March 1985, the State decided to settle out of court, and Bowman recommended this to his clients, the majority of whom – including Ron and Brian – accepted this.
Ron says he got £67,000 in compensation; Brian says he received £55,000. That’s about €214,000 and €176,000 respectively in today’s money.
Both men say they now wish the case had been heard in court, in order to acknowledge – on the record – the failings that led to what happened that day. They also say that the amounts they received did not come close to making up for the losses they incurred as a result of what happened.
“That was it for life, which didn’t even come close to covering what I’ve had to go through now, and a lot of the rest of us that were seriously injured,” says Ron.
However, Barry Bowman said settling out of court was the right decision to make at the time, and he said he was satisfied with the amount he received on behalf of all of his clients (which he did not divulge as a result of client privilege).
“I was certainly very happy at the time that they were well compensated, their legal fees were paid, and that was as good as it was going to get. Absolutely,” he said.
The State did not officially admit liability, however.
When asked about this, Bowman said:
“There was full compensation paid, and costs – obviously – were paid. And that was as far as they [the State] were prepared to go. And that in any man’s language is an admission of liability.”
No apology was offered to the survivors or their families from the Government. A spokesperson for the Department of Defence and the Defence Forces declined to comment when asked why no apology was given to the victims and whether an apology would be issued in the future.
The families of the the boys who died would not have been entitled to compensation for injury, but may have sought compensation for the loss of life of their children. However, the maximum amount to be awarded for this at the time was just £7,500. It is unclear if they sought this.
(The Journal Investigates contacted the families of the boys who died, but they did not wish to be interviewed or make a statement.)
Both Ron and Brian said they were afraid that if they went to court the State would slash their compensation payment, which is one of the main reasons they settled.
At least two other cases were heard in court. Two brief newspaper reports from the time detail that a Stewart V Clarke (who was not represented by Bowman) was awarded £17,641 (about €44,000 today) for the injuries he received that day in the Glen, and another boy, David Reid, received £11,000 (about €27,500 in today’s money).
The State admitted liability in both cases.
Another report from April 1985 from the Irish Independent featured an interview with Gráinne Condron (who was also not represented by Bowman), one of the most badly injured survivors, who had both her legs shattered in the blast.
In the interview, Gráinne (who died in 2020) states that she received £200,000 (just over €500,000 in today’s money) in damages from the State for the severe injuries she received.
“No money can fix my legs,” she told the reporter.
Ron O’Neill puts it like this:
“There’s tens of thousands going into the lower parts of my body at the minute. So I told them to sell me for scrap metal when I’m gone. Take it all out.”
Gary Marten took a case against the State in 2009, eventually receiving a small compensation package in 2016.
Sarsfield Park is a quiet, winding housing estate situated in the heart of Lucan Village.
Like many of the early former council estates in Ireland, a lot of the original inhabitants have died or moved on, and new families and generations have moved in. On a recent visit, for sale signs can be seen outside a number of well-kept houses.
However, the estate is still home to a tight-knit community, many of whom still remember the events of 14 April 1979.
Near the northern entrance, coming in from Chapel Hill, a stone with the name of the estate is surrounded by flowers on a small green. On the back of the stone is a plaque, erected in 2004, commemorating those who died and were injured in the Glen of Imaal explosion.
What happened that day in the Glen of Imaal has been widely forgotten by Irish society. If you search online, very little information is available.
An article in the Tallaght Echo from 2021 highlights how some Lucan locals feel the families at the centre of the tragedy of were “forgotten” by the state; it was featured briefly on Liveline later that year, and pops up occasionally in some newspaper articles in the archives in the 1990s and 2000s. But for the most part, in the decades since the explosion, there has been silence.
The tragedy didn’t even make it into the 1979 episode RTÉ’s popular look-back show Reeling in the Years.
For many people in Lucan, and especially for the residents of Sarsfield Park, however, the explosion is never far from their minds. For Ron and Brian, Gary and the other survivors and families of the victims, it was a life sentence.
The men have lived long, full lives. But the shadows of what happened will always remain with them.
“It bothers me every day, not a day goes by that I don’t think about it,” says Brian.
Brian finished school and later moved to Delaware, where he was a successful horse trainer for 20 years. He now lives in the south west of England. He still thinks about what could have been if he had been able to play football.
“I couldn’t play. According to the newspaper, I was the next best thing since George Best to come out of Ireland, I had scouts testifying about me… but it ruined my career and that was it,” he says.
I just think of what could have happened if things were different. Not only me that suffered, the family as well. My mother and father.
Ron O’Neill remembers how after he was released from hospital, it was up to him to fend for himself.
“After it happened, it was just trying to get back to reality basically, because we were we were left to our own devices,” he says.
Despite his long-term health issues, his PTSD and depression, he has lived a good life, he says.
He has three grown-up children, grandchildren, and a loving wife who has stood with him throughout the years. But not a day goes by that he doesn’t think about what happened.
“The medication helps. It really does help. I wouldn’t like to try go without it,” he says. “It sort of calms everything down. As I said, throughout the years, I’ve learned to deal with the images and the thoughts and that anxiety, I’ve learned to do that myself.
“How to put myself back in the safe place. But I think everybody was left just to do that on their own. To try and rationalise it and make sense of it and just deal with it.”
Many years after the blast, Gary Marten was diagnosed with PTSD, which helped him explain much of the trajectory of his life.
Gary – who has been before the courts on a number of occasions for aggressive behaviour that he has linked to his PTSD – says that survivor’s guilt has dominated his life since, and he still struggles daily to come to terms with what happened.
“I didn’t speak about it for 30 years. You grow up with your foundational thoughts… and your parents can’t get through to you, because you’re withdrawn. They don’t know. Nobody had heard of PTSD at the time,” he says.
“I was afraid to love anyone from then on. Any time anyone got close to me, I fucked them away and fucked them away big time,” he says.
Burnt the bridges because I didn’t want to be responsible for anything that happened to them.
Niall Callaghan has worked for many years as a painter and a decorator. He says he is still affected by the blast but is lucky to have survived.
“To be honest, the age being so young. I try not to think about it much,” he says.
“This is the first time I’ve really spoken about it. I mean, you’d talk in bits and pieces, but I’ve never really spoken about it, to be honest with you.
“You do think about it and be traumatised from time to time.”
Both Ron and Brian say they never received any formal or official apology from the Department of Defence or the Government. They do not believe they will be able to receive more compensation from the State, as they signed off on full and final settlements.
However, both men and Gary would like an apology for what they went through, and for how it was made to seem as though they and the rest of the St Mary’s Youth Club were at fault, and for how the State handled their compensation claim.
They would also like to better understand what happened that day at the Glen of Imaal, and how they were able to wander into that area without realising the deep danger they were in.
“I’d like to see the Army and Government come clean, admit they were in the wrong, the way we were treated rectified so it don’t happen to other people but admit they were wrong,” says Brian.
Ron says the Glen should have been closed off, and still should be.
“If they knew that there was that much ordinance that was possibly live, it should have been restricted,” he says.
“And to this day, it still isn’t. As I said, you go on Google Maps. You see the little walk and hikers going right through that area. I think there’s even a Lugnaquilla starting point which still brings you through the artillery area of the firing range.”
There are still two designated paths open to the public that run through the Army firing range, as long as red flags aren’t flying. However, there have been no recorded incidents since the 1979 explosion, and the Defence Forces say that safety measures have been “significantly increased” and are subject to a yearly inspection and audit.
There are signs in place at all entrances, and lighting which indicates when firing is taking place, a spokesperson says. On a recent trip to the Glen, Army training exercises were taking place, and The Journal Investigates noted a significant Army presence at all designated entrances to military walking routes, which were closed.
“Each activity in the Range Area has a dedicated range safety officer (RSO) who observes each shoot in order to identify any blinds’ (unexploded rounds), in the event of a blind occurring the location is marked and reported to Range Staff,” the Defence Forces spokesperson says.
“Following each activity, range staff conduct environmental checks at each Firing Point to ensure that they are clear. Experts from both Defence Forces Engineer and Ordnance Corps conduct bi-annual clearances of the impact area specifically designed to ensure no unexploded ordnance remains within this area.”
Since 1982, military police personnel also provide a warden service for the training area in the Glen of Imaal.
In a response to a lengthy press request, covering statements by survivors and material found in the archives, the spokesperson only commented on the section of the request dealing with range safety.
In a statement to The Journal Investigates, a spokesperson for An Óige, the group that ran the Ballinclea youth hostel, expressed the organisation’s sympathy for the victims of the blast, their families, and the wider Lucan community.
The spokesperson said that An Óige provided the accommodation for the St Mary’s group that weekend, but had nothing to do with the activities or itinerary.
“An Óige has always maintained that the Department of Defence and the Defence forces authorities are responsible for safety in the Glen of Imaal Military range. There were very few restrictions on walkers and any Army warning notices were scarce,” the spokesperson said.
An Óige fully cooperated with the safety protocols the Military authorities introduced following the tragedy.
While they say they have suffered, all men acknowledge the real pain of those who lost their lives in the blast, and their loved ones.
“I still think about the three lads an awful lot, probably daily, they will come into my mind,” says Ron.
“When I go to my mam and dad’s grave, my sister and my brother’s grave up in Lucan, I always make sure that I detour down just to go by the graves and say hello, you know?”
Despite the pain he goes through and everything that happened, he knows that he and the other survivors were the lucky ones that day. That they got to go home alive.
“None of us knew the danger we were going into that day,” he says. “I’d say… at least four of us are lucky to be alive. And that’s only down to the drive and rescue team that they got to us because…
I think a lot of us would have passed away – bled and died there on the field that day.
“I do feel lucky I survived. As I said, I feel sorry for the three lads that did lose their lives. I feel sorry for all of us that it happened to us on that day,” he says.
“Yeah, I’d say I feel bitter about the whole thing, you know? But yeah, lucky to be alive. Definitely lucky to be alive.”
Reporter: Cormac Fitzgerald • Investigation Editors: Christine Bohan, Daragh Brophy & Sinéad O’Carroll • The Journal Investigates Editor: Maria Delaney • Video Production: Maria Delaney & Nicky Ryan • Social Media: Sadbh Cox • Main Image Design: Lorcan O’Reilly
The Journal Investigates reached out the families of those who died in the explosion, but they did not want to talk. The Journal Investigates also made attempts to reach all those who survived the blast, but if you are a survivor and would like to get in touch, please email cormacfitzgerald@thejournal.ie.
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If you have been affected by any of the issues mentioned in this article, you can reach out for support through the following helplines. These organisations also put people in touch with long-term supports:
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