On that fateful night of February 6, 1958, in the depths of Munich, the lives of many were irrevocably changed. Matt Busby, the revered manager of Manchester United, was critically wounded, and footballer Bobby Charlton was yet to awaken. Duncan Edwards, another Manchester United player, clung perilously to life and the wreckage of BEA flight 609 was still smouldering at Munich-Riem Flugplatz. The dreadful Munich air disaster claimed 23 lives, including seven belonging to Busby’s Babes, as the Manchester United team was fondly known amongst football enthusiasts.
David Peace’s retelling vividly captures the heartbreaking scene, starting from the tragically failed take-off, a result of a refuelling stop following a draw match with Red Star Belgrade. The narrative spans six weeks, ending with the Manchester United team’s defeat in the May 3rd cup final against Bolton, a match they graciously lost 2-0 with several players and Busby still recovering in Germany.
As the club grappled with the sudden loss, the funerals were conducted without delay in England, each marked by a sorrowful procession of black vehicles through the north. The bleakness of winter resonated in the grief that shrouded Manchester, Salford and Brynmawr. Thousands of broken hearts congregated in Cabra as Billy Whelan, the Dublin native, was respectfully returned to his homeland. Rain-soaked brick and echoes of sorrow was all that remained
The devastating news gradually trickled through. Among the dead were seven journalists, travelling back with the team who were now cruelly silenced. The men whose chronicles propelled the printing presses were no more. This was the era of print and the weight of their responsibility was never lost on these formidable individuals.
Annihilation wasn’t the only aftermath of the disaster. The survivors faced desolation and the women of the team showed stoic resilience by courageously supporting their men, repeatedly lifting their spirits. Jean Busby, Matt’s wife urged him to persevere, insisting that their ‘lads’ would have wanted him to. Bobby and Jack Charlton’s mother, Cissy, silently prepared for the solitary glory awaiting her youngest son as he poised to return to the game that had so drastically altered his life.
These athletes aren’t living large with grand homes and speedy cars. Their homes, terraced houses, are property of the club. Following the accident, the future for the young families is shrouded in insecurity. Marion Bent, widow of Geoff Bent, questions the benefits her late spouse received from his football career as she visits his grave. The silent grief of these women condemns what led them to this point.
Instances of bravery are depicted: Harry Gregg, the Belfast-born goalie, re-enters the wreckage to help survivors, an act not soon forgotten; Pilot Rayment, ensnared in the cockpit, instructs his team mate Thain to abandon him. It’s tempting to indulge in sentimentality, to reflect on a bygone era in athletics characterised by integrity, stoicism and modest living. However, as expressed by poet Roy Fisher when he said “Birmingham’s what I think with”, Peace uses the past as his thought process. His introspective writing, synced with modernity, allows the eloquent rhythms of his passages to memorialise the events.
Despite remaining loyal to historical persons and events, “Munichs” appears like an elaborate hallucination. It presents odd occurrences, omens, and dead people materialising and then disappearing back into the past. It transforms normal language into invoking verses. This generation is typically considered unexpressive, yet their voices are dignified and calculated. They critically evaluate their own actions. They question their decisions such as bringing an excessive number of players or changing plane seats. They ponder on how they will face their loved ones, their nation.
Then comes the aftermath. Harry Gregg utilising his necktie tied around his forehead to lessen the throbbing. Bobby Charlton, in self-isolation in his room, continually playing music. The writing is imbued with gentleness, taking its time to capture the moment. But, it cannot last indefinitely. Bitterness begins to creep in. The title has its roots here. ‘Munichs’ was an aggressive nickname given to United supporters. After the funerals, cruel whispers started circulating that United was manipulating sympathy. And following this, came the match against the infamous Bob Lord’s Burnley Butchers, a skirmish at Turf Moor, with the malicious chant “It’s a Pity They Didn’t All Die” echoing from the audience.
Billy Whelan, known by the name Liam at Home Farm, felt a strong yearning for home in his initial days in England. He confessed to his brother Christy that he desired nothing more than the end of this ordeal and to return home. Through this magnificent requiem, David Peace brings every character home. “Munichs” is a literary jewel.
A new novel named “The Bureau” by Eoin McNamee is set to be released next March.