My Life with William Sullivan: I turned my hobby into a museum

William Sullivan, owner of the Irish Military Museum and Park, talks about the childhood purchase that lasted a lifetime

William Sullivan, founder of the Irish Military War Museum in Starinagh, Collon, Co Louth. Photo: Barry Cronin

At eight years old, I never could have predicted that a German Second World War gas mask I stumbled upon by chance might one day find its home in my very own museum.

It was the early ’80s and I had been spending my time picking potatoes in a bid to earn some much-needed pocket money. My grandad, who was a marksman, had gifted me a coin, and the hope was to turn this into a fully fledged military collection I could call my own.

He had joined the British army in 1910. The whole family knew him as being a chef. They used to joke that he was the most dangerous man in the army because he could have poisoned everyone.

Only a few months ago, I learned that he was, in fact, part of the British expeditionary force order at the Battle of 1914 in France. My grandad had sparked my interest from the beginning.

Collecting and all things military have been passions of mine for as long as I can remember. A lot of my time was spent grafting on my family’s dairy farm in Drogheda. It all began when I received £20 for a tonne of potatoes.

Back then, you did anything you could to earn some pocket money, whether that meant cleaning calving pens or mucking out sheds.

My first purchase was one I still have to this day — a German Second World War gas mask. 

I found it in a camping shop. However, at just eight years old, I had little idea of its historical significance. 

The only reason I bought it was because I thought it looked German. We didn’t have internet in those days so our only source of information was books. 

As a kid, with what we now know to be dyslexia, I tended to avoid these whenever possible. There was no research involved. I just went by the eye.

Thirty years later, I discovered that the mask belonged to a German paratrooper. I know this because it was covered in cloth and paratroopers always did that so their masks didn’t make noise when rattling against other items.

These artefacts were not as sought after or expensive as they are nowadays. Their popularity only hit the stratosphere thanks to movies like Saving Private Ryan.

Over the years, I continued collecting war memorabilia. While other children were playing football, I was inside organising my collection.

Joining the army was my dream as a teenager but my mother had other ideas. She felt the army was too dangerous.

Then, one day, while milking cows, I got mauled by two bulls. They nearly killed me. I always joked that if it was the army, I could have shot them.

It could have been life-threatening but, luckily, my injuries were mostly just broken ribs, which healed of their own accord.

William Sullivan, founder of the Irish Military War Museum in Starinagh, Collon, Co Louth. Photo: Barry Cronin

MY VIEWS on war changed as I got older. Ironically enough, I’m actually very anti-war. 

You might wonder how somebody with a military museum could possibly have this mindset.

The reality is that I am far more fascinated by military influence on technology and innovation.

For example, the ambulance was invented by Napoleon’s chief military surgeon, who introduced a rapid transport system for wounded soldiers.

The vehicles back then were horsedrawn but ultimately incorporated the same concept. It was these earlier models that stocked medical supplies and ensured access to swift medical treatment.

This was a dramatic departure from the previous practice, which saw medics wait until after a battle to tend to casualties.

Later on in life, I began visiting museums all over Europe. On one occasion, I touched the side of a tank, prompting security to intervene. It led me to wonder what damage my hand was going to do when the Germans couldn’t even blow this thing up in the Second World War.

The experience sparked my idea to create a hands-on museum where people could experience these artefacts through touch as well as sight. In 2015, I opened my own military museum on the site of a beef farm in Collon, Co Meath.

There are people coming here who are blind and visually impaired. You hand them a gun and you can see the look of wonderment on their faces — because of the sheer weight of it and the cold steel.

Instead of being told about the artefact, they get to touch it. It has to be personal. It wouldn’t be worth it for me if it wasn’t. I haven’t had a wage since covid but that’s not what it’s all about for me.

We are not a government-funded museum, which comes with its own challenges. For me, the place has more of a sentimental resonance.

My museum boasts thousands of military artefacts, all of which I’ve been collecting since I was a child.

The gas mask I bought at the age of eight takes pride of place and still serves as a reminder of how my dream of owning a place like this all started.