About 290 minutes
Three Times and Out Told by Private Simmons, Written by Nellie L. McClung — A Closer Reading
World Events
66,484 recorded words. 0 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
View Gutenberg source #12880For The Irish on the Somme Being a Second Series of 'The Irish at the Front' — Edition Insights, the stored edition analysis reports 66,489 words, 4 hr 50 min estimated reading time, and 8 detected text sections.
The text analysis averages about 21.1 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.
Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Somme, 1st Battle of the, France, 1916,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.
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About 290 minutes
World Events
66,484 recorded words. 0 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
View Gutenberg source #12880About 299 minutes
World Events
68,717 recorded words. 9 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
View Gutenberg source #11200About 300 minutes
World Events
68,995 recorded words. 10 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
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Read on Project GutenbergJohn Redmond's introduction, dated 1917, immediately frames the work as a political and patriotic appeal, asserting that the war is "a war of liberation" and that Ireland's support for the Allies is a response to "the concession of liberty." This opening sets a dual lens: the book is both a record of Irish military action and a testament to a political alliance. MacDonagh, who previously wrote The Irish at the Front, continues his focus on the Irish soldier's experience, but the excerpts suggest a distinctive emphasis on vernacular speech and humor as a coping mechanism.
The text's structure moves between battle descriptions and anecdotal interludes, with the latter often showcasing what MacDonagh calls "quick-witted Hibernian reply" and "flowers of speech." Readers should note how these humorous passages—such as a soldier's retort about a donkey or the phrase "Gone west" for death—serve to humanize the soldiers while also reinforcing a sense of national character. The book is not a dry regimental history but a cultural portrait drawn from the front lines.
John Redmond's introduction is not merely a preface but a deliberate political argument. He writes that he and his colleagues "have availed of every opportunity in Parliament, on the platform, and in the Press" to present the war as a fight for "the rights and liberties of humanity." This language directly ties Irish participation to the promise of self-government, a point Redmond emphasizes by noting "the profound change which has been brought about in the relations of Ireland to the Empire." The introduction thus positions the book as evidence of Irish loyalty and sacrifice, intended to counter any lingering doubts about Ireland's place in the United Kingdom. Readers should approach the main text with this political context in mind, as MacDonagh's anecdotes and battle accounts are implicitly part of this larger narrative of reconciliation and national pride.
The excerpts reveal a work that oscillates between descriptions of military operations and vignettes of soldier life. MacDonagh does not dwell on tactical details; instead, he captures the atmosphere through dialogue and incident. For instance, a chaplain's encounter with a soldier beating a donkey leads to a joke about "the cross on the ass's back," and the soldier's retort—"if Our Lord had this lazy ould ass He wouldn't be there yet"—illustrates the irreverent humor that pervades the ranks. Another passage describes a sergeant urging his men to "keep on firing away like blazes" to hide a shortage of ammunition. These moments are not mere comic relief; they are the raw material from which MacDonagh constructs a portrait of resilience. The battle scenes themselves are largely absent from the excerpts, but the reader can infer that they provide the grim backdrop against which this humor shines.
MacDonagh pays close attention to the distinctive speech of Irish soldiers, arguing that their humor "differs entirely from the English, Scottish or Welsh variety." He characterizes Irish humor as lacking "any conscious aim or end"—it is "just the light and spontaneous whim, caprice or fancy of the moment." This is exemplified in phrases like "the staff of life on the point of death" for bread on a bayonet, or "a stump speech agin the war" for a wooden leg. The book also records the origin of the phrase "Gone west" for death, tracing it to Munster regiments and noting its colloquial use for anything lost or out of the way. MacDonagh's method is ethnographic: he collects and categorizes these expressions, treating them as evidence of a collective mindset. Readers should watch for how these linguistic details accumulate to create a sense of shared identity among the Irish troops.
Several excerpts feature Catholic chaplains, who appear as figures of both spiritual authority and comic material. In one anecdote, a soldier says of his chaplain, "He'd lead us to heaven; an' we'd follow him to hell," blending devotion with a soldier's bluntness. Another story involves a priest remonstrating with a soldier for beating a donkey, only to be met with a joke that undercuts the religious lesson. These episodes suggest that MacDonagh views the chaplain as a crucial element of regimental life, providing moral support while also being a subject of the men's irreverence. The book likely includes more such interactions, reinforcing the idea that faith and humor coexist in the trenches. The chaplain's presence also underscores the Catholic identity of many Irish soldiers, a detail that aligns with Redmond's political framing of a unified Irish contribution to the war effort.
MacDonagh's work is best read as a mosaic of voices rather than a continuous narrative. The excerpts suggest that the book's value lies in its preservation of soldier dialect and humor, which offer a counterpoint to official war histories. Readers interested in the social and cultural dimensions of World War I will find here a rich, if partial, record of how Irish soldiers made sense of their experience through language. The political framing by Redmond should be weighed against the more chaotic, human texture of the anecdotes, which resist easy propaganda.
I remember sitting by the window during a grey November, recalling my grandfather’s muttered stories of mud and silence. This book’s humored dialect felt like a hand on my shoulder. Later, In the World War — A Reader’s Guide brought back that same ache, the war’s vastness shrinking to one quiet voice remembering.
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