In the middle of the Congo crisis, not every story from the 32nd Infantry Battalion was about roadblocks, armed stand-offs, or patrols disappearing into the bush.
Some stories showed another side of peacekeeping.
This one begins in Goma.
When the Irish battalion arrived in 1960, the situation on the ground was tense and uncertain. The Congo had only recently gained independence. Local authority was fragile. Armed groups, Congolese soldiers, police, civilians, and United Nations personnel were all operating in the same space, often with limited trust between them.
For the Irish troops, the mission was not just about holding ground.
It was also about restoring confidence.
One of the unusual problems recorded in the unit history was the condition of local policing in Goma. The Congolese police were armed, but many were reluctant to patrol. In some cases, they were simply afraid to move through parts of the town.
That left a real problem for public order.
A town cannot function if the police are too frightened to patrol it. Shops, streets, movement, and ordinary civilian life all depend on some visible form of order. Without it, fear fills the gap very quickly.
The Irish Military Police stepped into that gap.
According to the unit history, the Irish MPs began working with the Congolese police. They trained them, exercised with them, and then went out on mixed patrols through Goma.
Each patrol included one Irish Military Policeman and one Congolese policeman.
It was a practical arrangement. The Irish soldier brought confidence, discipline, and the authority of the United Nations presence. The Congolese policeman brought local knowledge, language, and the visible return of Congolese civil authority.
It was not grand strategy.
It was peacekeeping at street level.
The unit history records that these mixed patrols soon became known as "The Finnegans."
The nickname stuck.
There was even a touch of humour to it. The Congolese policemen on the patrols reportedly adopted Irish names when dealing with the Irish MPs. In a country in crisis, with tension never far away, that small detail says a great deal.
It shows that relationships were being built.
Not through speeches. Not through slogans. Through daily contact, shared patrols, and the steady example of soldiers doing a difficult job without losing their humanity.
The story of "The Finnegans" is important because it reminds us that early Irish peacekeeping was not only about weapons and checkpoints.
It was about presence.
It was about calming a street by walking it.
It was about showing local police that they could return to their duties, not by ordering them to do so, but by standing beside them until they had the confidence to do it themselves.
That is a very Irish peacekeeping story.
Quiet, practical, and built on personal contact.
For the men of the 32nd Infantry Battalion, Congo was Ireland's first battalion-strength deployment with the United Nations. They had been formed in haste, flown across the world, and placed into a mission full of uncertainty.
Yet in Goma, among the tension and confusion, Irish soldiers still found a way to do what Irish troops would become known for in later decades.
They got on with the job.
They dealt with people as people.
And sometimes, in the middle of a serious mission, they left behind a story with a name that could only have come from Irish soldiers on overseas service.
The Finnegans of Goma.
Story adapted from the 32nd Infantry Battalion Congo Unit History.