
The Royal Dublin Fusilier
Philip Cassidy didn’t start out as a member of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers. When he volunteered to serve in The Great War, he was a member of the 16th Division Army Cyclist Corps.

Surely Philip wore this badge on his uniform cap with pride:

Philip Markey Cassidy was born in Dublin, Ireland, on October 12, 1895. He was the fourth of seven children born to Daniel and Mary Jane. “Markey” was Mary Jane’s maiden name.
Philip’s father, Daniel, was the older brother (by five years) of Patrick Robert Cassidy, my great-grandfather. That makes my Grandpa Cassidy a first-cousin to Philip.
According to the 1911 Irish Census:
- Philip is listed as a “scholar.” That simply means he was still in school, but it sounds rather noble.
- He was the only family member named as able to read and write both English and Irish.
- Philip was 15 years old.
- His 16-year-old brother Robert was already out of school. He worked as a tailor.
The family’s home still stands today.
The front door is blue. And there’s a paper heart hanging in the window:

Piecing together Philip’s story, here is a photo of him that ran in the Irish Independent newspaper (where he had worked in advertising) in December 1916.

Irish Independent newspaper, Dublin, Ireland
Sadly, the reason Philip’s photo was in the paper: he was missing in action. Sadder still, he had already perished.
Try as I might, I haven’t found an exact date for when Philip joined the Army Cyclist Corps, or when he transferred to the Royal Dublin Fusiliers (RDF), an infantry regiment of the British Army.
Philip was a member of the 8th Service Battalion of the 16th Irish Division, RDF, when he was deployed to France.
The date was December 18, 1915.

Philip and his mates were dispatched into what would one day be known as one of the deadliest battles in human history: The Battle of the Somme.
The same month Philip entered France, the second Chantilly Conference was taking place. Plans were solidified for the French and British (which included Irish) forces to take back from the German Empire the land on both sides of the river Somme.
Philip was now a Lance Corporal.
The Battle of the Somme began on July 1, 1916.
A quick online search will direct you to all sorts of details about the ensuing days. It was brutal.
Here’s a map showing where the Battle of the Somme took place:

Philip Markey Cassidy died in the Battle of Ginchy, as the 16th Irish Division took back the German-held village. The date was September 9, 1916. A Saturday. Philip was just a month shy of his 21st birthday.
For months, the military listed Philip as missing.
But good news never came.
The Cassidy family, for years, placed remembrances in the Dublin papers:

The ending of the above In Memoriam tribute was a Latin phrase, Spectemur Agendo. Let us be judged by our acts.
The 72,000 Allied soldiers lost in the Somme operation – including Lance Corporal Philip Markey Cassidy – are honored at the nearby Thiepval Memorial to the Missing of the Somme.

Philip’s name is on one of the Memorial’s walls:

Rest in peace, Philip. Suaimhneas síoraí.

Mom wrote a poem called Battle Fatigue when she was just 15. It was 1945, so I’m guessing she was thinking about the Second World War.
It feels fitting, though, to end this story about her father’s cousin with her words:


Battle Fatigue
Why does my head ache?
Is there a blacksmith tending a thousand forges –
Or am I plunging into the battle gorges –
My life at stake.
Why does my brain hurt?
It is here that pound the madd’ning, thund’rous drums,
And the stamping continuation that goes and comes
Both cruel and curt.
Why do my ears sting?
’Tis but a band of hornets extracting their wrath
The lies for some along the famous “beaten path”
Where mem’ries cling.
Why does my heart throb?
It does in the funeral march of the racing, brutal feet.
Where is the music I heard, so soft and sweet?
Forgive my sob.
Why do my eyes burn?
A death recital haunts; I cannot forget,
My wretched body is exhausted, yet I must return.
~ Joan Cassidy ~ June 3, 1945
“Battle Fatigue” ©1945 Joan Cassidy. All rights reserved.
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