Amy Crook left school at 16 and got a job at Dunnes Stores. At the age of 17, operating a checkout at her local branch, in west Dublin, she realised that she was bored and thought, Is this my life?
On her current mission to the Golan Heights, Trooper Crook will be inside an 18-ton Mowag armoured personnel carrier, powered by an 11-litre diesel engine and armed with a 7.62mm medium machine gun, a 12.7mm heavy machine gun and eight smoke-grenade launchers.
She will be carrying her Army-issue Steyr assault rifle. In the pockets of her combat vest she will have 150 rounds of ammunition. Dunnes Stores checkout it ain’t.
The 25-year-old says, “After a while I thought, I can’t make this small talk for the rest of my life.” She had never really thought of a life in the military before that moment.
Crook is in the kitchen of her parents, Angela and Tony, in Clondalkin. “She’s the youngest,” says Tony. “She’s the baby.”
“I never thought any of mine would go into the Army,” says Angela.
Crook has no close relatives in the Defence Forces. When she decided to join, Tony’s attitude was “fair dues to her”.
Angela thought it would pass. “I thought it was a phase, that she wanted a more active career,” she says. “ I wouldn’t say it worried me. She was still young at the time. I think she’s sensible. She doesn’t get up to too much – or not that I know of.”
But it didn’t pass, and at the end of her six-month enlistment training, at Gormanston Camp, in Co Meath, Crook’s preference was the cavalry, which she got. “It’s hard to imagine that a slight girl can drive one of these things,” says Angela, who has stood beside a Mowag but not ridden in one.
Amy is probably the shortest of all 129 of her colleagues in the 48th on the Golan. But when it comes to operating a Mowag she is the equal of all.
The highest-tech Mowag is the Cavalry Reconnaissance Vehicle. Troops sit six on each side, backs to the wall, rifles between their legs, muzzles pointed down. The driver sits forward, inside the nose of the Mowag, and, using three periscopes to look front and partially sideways, plus side mirrors for a rear view, can drive with the hatch closed or open.
Gunner and commander sit beside each other in the centre of the Mowag, between the driver and troops. The gunner has eight periscopes, giving a 360-degree view, and a joystick for directing the guns.
The heavy machine gun, mounted externally, is equipped with specialised cameras that enhance the Mowag’s reconnaissance capabilities.
Crook can carry out all these functions, because, in a CRV, everyone is qualified to command, drive or operate the guns. “I like the crew thing,” she says. “Although they’re a big, 18-ton worth of armour, you feel confident driving, because you have someone on your left, you have someone on your right. It’s nice – just gives you that extra confidence when driving.” But “sitting in the back will be my job this time”.
Crook loves the military life because it is different – from what went before, from what her friends do, and from day to day. “People ask, ‘What are you doing this week?’ It’s hard to answer, because you don’t know what’s going on from one week to the next.”
The night before she speaks to ‘The Irish Times’ is the first time she has slept in her parents’ house for two years. She and her boyfriend, Ger, had moved in together to a rented house nearby. With the money saved during her six months on the Golan, plus the €70-a-day overseas allowance – and little if any opportunity to spend her regular pay – she and Ger are hoping to buy their own place. “Buy a house – that’s the plan.”
Are her parents worried about the mission? “I’m nervous, you know, concerned,” says Angela. “I know they are all in good hands, but it doesn’t stop you worrying. The sooner she gets over the sooner she gets back.” Tony remains calm. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve no sisters. I’ve all brothers. It’s strange, really, you know. I didn’t think [Amy being in the Army] would happen. But she’s doing us proud.”
