WEATHER WATCHER
Born Maureen Flavin in Knockanure in County Kerry, in what was then the Irish Free State.
By the time Maureen passed her school exams, she was an orphan. Her only relative was an uncle who ran a pub in Blacksod Bay, County Mayo, on the west coast of Ireland – the other side of the country.
Maureen contacted him. He offered her accommodation. It took two days of travel for her to get to Blacksod, one of the most remote places in Europe.
After arriving in Blacksod, Maureen had to look for work. She saw an advert for a clerk at the ‘Department of Posts and Telegraphs’ i.e. the local Post Office.
The postmistress was Margaret Sweeney. She ran the office with her daughter Frances and son Ted, who also acted as a Coast Guard. Margaret gave Maureen the job.
What she hadn’t realised was that the Post Office had a weather station attached to it – the most westerly weather station in Europe. The building was an abandoned coastguard station just yards from the lighthouse and the sea.
Later on, Maureen said, “We were told that our reports were the first to show any change coming in, for good weather or bad weather.”
When the Second World War broke out in 1939, there was a secret agreement between Ireland and Britain, for the latter to use weather reports from selected stations – Blacksod being one of them. Ireland was officially neutral during the war, but the Irish Meteorological Society (IMS) shared its data with London – and therefore all of the Allies.
The instruments for reading the weather were located outside, attached to the lighthouse.
As one of her duties, Maureen was supposed to report the weather. The four of them living at the lighthouse took it in turns to take hourly barometer readings (throughout the day and night), which were phoned through to the IMS.
Maureen said that she didn’t mind doing all these readings as there was little else to do at Blacksod, other than play cards (and go to the weekly local dance).
The 3rd June 1944, was Maureen’s 21st birthday.
That morning, at 1am, it was her turn to take the reading. The air pressure was beginning to drop. Maureen thought there might be a storm coming, although everything seemed relatively calm.
What she did not know, was that the Allies were preparing to invade Normandy, D-Day, on the 5th June.
Maureen made another reading later that night. The weather at the time was light winds (7mph) and drizzle, but the air pressure had dropped dramatically. She went back inside and woke Ted, who was more experienced in using the instruments. He confirmed her prediction.
Her report, suggesting the possibility of a heavy storm, caused some concern in London.
Maureen was phoned back immediately. She remembered a posh woman’s voice with a sense of panic in it. “Please check…Please repeat.” The same woman phoned again an hour later, again asking for confirmation.
No other weather station had picked up the incoming storm.
Over the next five hours, conditions deteriorated rapidly – just as Maureen had predicted.
RAF Officer James Stagg, the Chief Meteorologist to General Eisenhower, the Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force (who was based in Dunstable, Bedfordshire), personally phoned Blacksod Post Office in person, bypassing the Dublin liaison office. He woke Maureen up.
Maureen was astounded. She had never been phoned before about any of her weather reports – and now she’d had three calls in quick succession.
After to talking to the Sweeneys, and Maureen, Stagg recommended postponing D-Day (Operation Overlord). It was put back to the 6th June.
The only other possible day for an invasion was the 19th June, but the Allies ran the risk of discovery from the Nazis (as it was, on the 19th June, there was an even worse storm).
D-Day went ahead on the 6th June. The weather conditions (although still rough) had improved – and the Allied troops set sail for Normandy – the biggest invasion by sea in British history. It was the beginning of the end for Germany.
A year after the war, Maureen married Ted. They had four children; Victor, Emer, Gerry and Teddy.
When Margaret retired, Maureen became the Post Mistress.
It was not until 1956, that the Sweeneys were told how important their information had been. Maureen had saved many lives. She was very proud.
That same year, the Blacksod weather station was automated, so she no longer had to take regular readings.
In the pub (and to their children), Ted used to joke that he and his wife had saved the world from Hitler. Then he would get serious and say the real heroes were the many men who had sacrificed their lives during D-Day.
In 2000, Maureen finally retired. Ted died the following year. By now, Victor was the local lighthouse keeper.
Maureen moved into the Sonas Ti Aire care home at Belmullet, just as the Covid pandemic broke out. She caught the disease but survived.
Finally, Maureen began to get recognition for her achievement. In 2021, she received a US House of Representatives Honour. It was presented by Congressman and former Marine, Jack Bergman, who travelled to Ireland to give Maureen the award.
In his speech, Bergman said, “Her skill and professionalism were crucial in ensuring Allied victory, and her legacy will live on for future generations.”
Maureen was also honoured by the National World War Two Museum in New Orleans.
On her 100th birthday, Maureen received a card from Jack Bergman and also one from the Irish President, Michael D. Higgins.
There was an Irish TV programme about D-Day, called ‘Three Days in June’, produced by Nuala Cunningham.
She interviewed Maureen in the documentary and asked how important her weather report had been. “They would have gone ahead, and the invasion would have been a complete disaster. There they were, with thousands of aircraft and they couldn’t tolerate low cloud. We’re delighted we put them on the right road. We eventually had a final say.”
Joe Cattini, a 99-year-old D-Day veteran (Royal Artillery), was also interviewed, and said, “We owe a lot to Maureen, from the West of Ireland, those of us who invaded France on D-Day. Because if it hadn’t been for her reading of the weather, we would have perished in the storms.”
Following Maureen’s death, her son, Victor, said, “She was happy she got it right…We could be wearing jackboots otherwise.”
He went on to say, “Remote Blacksod has played an outsized role in world affairs. For such a small place, a lot has happened here.”
Remote Irish Postmistress
