Pat Smyth, a civil servant with the National Assistance Board in West Tyrone from the 1930's to the 1950's, recalls his memories, experiences and the larger than life personalities he encountered on the way.

In accordance with civil service rules my colleagues and I left politics aside in adjudicating claims but in the prevailing political climate, aggrieved clients were apt to suspect political bias and said so. By law, the decision of the local area officer stood, subject to appeal, and so it was left to me to state the case for the Board. As a rule, neither Head Office nor the Minister intervened.

Sectarianism reared its ugly head regularly. 'I hear there are a lot of Roman Catholics in that place. I suppose that's why the Protestants are all being turned down!' was the kind of comments we got from the disgruntled Protestants. On the other side of the coin would have been 'As usual a Catholic can get nothing. If I was a Mason or an Orangeman it would be a different story!'
       
Some of the gems went up on the office notice board: 'That wee sandy haired man you sent out is a sweetener, and what's worse, I hear he is a Roman Catholic. I would rather you would call again yourself.'

Here the writer was an elderly Protestant lady whose plight had been brought to my notice by Canon Maltby. I had visited her and straightened things out for her. The sandy haired boyo that she had discovered was a Roman Catholic was Paddy Bogues, whose reputation needed no praise from me.

Almost always it was a staff member of the Protestant faith who had dealt with the disgruntled 'Prod' and a Catholic investigator who had displeased a 'Mick'. We got many a laugh.

In the early days we also got many dozens of fresh eggs, fowl, hand-knitted socks, boxes of apples and wee ornaments amongst others delivered to us by grateful clients, all unsolicited. They all had to be returned with polite notes, of course, because we were public servants, but we appreciated the gestures and said so.
       
Public representatives, solicitors, etc. were not the only ones who acted as advocates. Scribes like James McCullagh were others, but I need to mention the clergy as well. Mostly they made very valuable contributions. Some were more zealous than others. One Elderly Canon, Mr. Maltby from the Glebe, Ballygawley was my most regular visitor and we had a cordial working relationship.
       
I had all the clergy who consulted me primed to contact me if a very needy (or allegedly needy) person approached them for alms, since relief of need was State business.

With a team of about ten visiting officers, each responsible for his/her sub-district, and making maybe eight to ten calls a day, we had a pretty comprehensive knowledge of the entire population, which stood us in good stead when a chancer tried to pull the wool over our eyes.

The itinerant scrap dealers and the rest of the travelling folk weren't slow to have a go when assistance for all in need was publicised. In the early 1948 days of the scheme we had appeal tribunals sitting daily to clear the load of appeals.        
       
One example of a chancer comes to mind. A clergyman whom I was well acquainted with phoned me one forenoon to ask if I could do anything for a newly widowed mother whose pension had not come through. She had called and got him to write a letter for her to Pensions branch.

He gave me the gist of her story and I was able to put him right immediately. 'Your reverence.' I said 'Mrs. X is not a widow and she had no children. You are the latest in a long list of people whom she has solicited'

He was totally unwilling to accept what I said. She was genuine, he argued, and in fact, had not asked him for a penny, but when he had quizzed her she had revealed that she had had no breakfast and that the wee ones had gone to school with only a slice of loaf in their bellies. (The poor wee darlings)
       
I immediately enquired, 'How much did you give her?' Rather sheepishly he admitted he had parted with a fiver before phoning me. I reminded him of my advice to phone me first - another soft hearted man-of-God, poorer but wiser.

Pat Smyth, 2001