“UP the Banner.” Anyone other than a member of the armed forces would have risked being lynched with a line like that at a Limerick election count centre on the eve of the Muster final.
But that was the parting shot from Private Tony Grey as he and his brother in arms from Sarsfield barracks, Lieutenant Glenn Martin, revved up the truck to carry off the boxes of votes in the European elections for counting in Cork.
There were 22 metal boxes brought out from the count centre at Limerick Racecourse by the count staff and handed over to the soldiers amid a gaggle of flashing phone cameras, TV cameras, and press cameras.
A delivery man making endless runs back and forth with boxes of frozen goujons and pallets of bottled water at the same time as the metal boxes were brought out complained that nobody wanted to take HIS photo, much less give him a hand with his heavy load.
The excitement over the boxes was understandable on two counts (no pun intended). It was the only excitement the Racecourse had seen since the initial tallies were wrapped up. And it meant that any time now, the count proper could start.
After the highs and lows of the initial tally, people are waiting for the quota to be announced, the first seat to be taken, the first distribution of excess votes – and where the transfers will go.
An election count is a bit like the description war veterans use when they’re asked what it’s like to be in battle – one percent adrenalin and terror and 99 per cent boredom.
Hardly surprising then that a couple of men in uniform could cause such a stir among those in the trenches.
