Francis Patrick Morgan

Frank Morgan by Ann Russell

My uncle Frank Morgan was like many young men, fascinated by the idea of flying. It was his dream to be a pilot.
In his last letter, dated May 1941, part of which I have, he was in great form, enjoying life and looking forward to his next leave which would have been in September 1941.

Frank’s father died when he was not much more than a baby. At that time, in the 1920s, Ireland was in some turmoil. The Easter 1916 Rising and the subsequent War of Independence followed by the Civil War, meant his early life could not have been easy. It is so sad to think that his short life, full of promise, ended in such tragic circumstances, far too soon at the age of 22. The impact of his death on his widowed mother and his brother and sister (my mother) can only be imagined. They did not know of course what really happened to Frank and his fellow prisoners. The story that was told to them was that he had drowned. My grandmother would at times talk to other members of the family about death by drowning, trying to get some consolation from the thought that drowning was not such a terrible end. I can only imagine the anguish she would have suffered had she known the reality of his death.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis – may his faithful soul rest in peace.