or if no player appears click here.

Score of the MRA song
We used to sing a song to the tune of the Irish Republican song "The boys of Kilmichael" about an ancient old Irish French Letter and I have written these verses below. Oxter is the Scots/Irish word for armpit from the Old English Oxta and Brian Boru was the last Great King of Ireland. I added some caving verses where a republican theme seemed appropiate.
L to R: Not known, Stenner RIP, Sandle RIP, Marriot RIP, King, Jenkins, Collins RIP, Isles RIP The M.N.R.C. (Mendip Nature Research Committee) is an obscure outfit who studied, well, nature I suppose, while the Sandhurst were chaps from the R.M.A.S.C.C. (Royal Military Academy Sandhurst Caving Club). There was a phase on Mendip where many cavers wore combat jackets and hats, purchased cheaply from an ex-W.D. (War Department) dealer on Eastern Mendip, affectionately known as "Wanking Danny".
The photo above right was taken outside the BEC hut called the Belfry about 1958 and shows the MRA ready for action! Their identities are thought to be as illustrated but there is some doubt of certain persons.
The verses describe an entirely fictitious event to remove the weegies (tourists) from Mendip with apologies to the boys of Kilmichael!

I was up to me oxters in mud sir,
A doing me bit in the bog,
When I came upon something quite hard sir,
Like a bit of a stone or a log,
T'was a chest of old Irish bog oak sir,
And knowing not what I might find,
Sure, I chanced to me luck wid' the fairies,
And I took a wee look there inside.

T'was an ancient old Irish French Letter,
Now boys what I'm telling you'se true
T'was an ancient old Irish French Letter,
A relic of Brian Boru,
T'was an ancient old Irish French Letter,
Made of Elk hide and full a foot tall,
With a little brass plate on the end sir,
With his name and his stud fee and all.

So I cast me mind back through the ages,
To the days of that hairy old Celt,
And I see Brunuel on the bed sir,
And Brian Boru in his pelt,
And I hear him remarking quite plainly,
"Now darling, let's get 'dis 'ting right,
Sure, you had your own way last night dear,
'Tis the hairy side outside tonight"!


I was stood at the Hunters lodge bar sir,
With a bloke from the M.N.R.C.,
When a caver rushed by in a flap sir,
In a coat bought from W.D.,
"I've news from our loyal commander,
It's time for all weegies to pay,
We're to meet on the green after closing,
The lads from the brave M.R.A".

The scene on the green after closing,
Was a sight for sore eyes to behold,
With M.R.A. armbands a'glistening,
The Shepton marched in from the fold,
There were Belfyites drunken and ready,
And Sandhurst chaps brewing up tea,
And Speleos tippling sherry,
While the Wessex were having a pee!

We set up the barriers well sir,
The Cheddar road blocked, it was plain,
That the first Weegie bus to approach sir,
Was diverted down Nine Barrows Lane,
Now Nine Barrows Lane is quite narrow,
Unsuited for vehicles like this,
And the lads they all laughed 'till they cried sir,
While the Wessex were having a piss!

So the coaches and cars full of Weegies,
Continued to pour round the bend,
'Till the driver who's leading the convoy,
Arrived at a sudden dead end,
Now the traffic was nose to tale me boys,
And one or two cars had a smash,
And the lads they all laughed 'till they cried sir,
While the Wessex were having a slash!

Well the barriers were quickly removed sir,
And the signposts turned back like they were,
And Nine Barrows Lane was quite full sir,
With more traffic than seen there for years,
So here's to the Weegies of Mendip,
Who thought that they knew what was what,
And the Mendip Republican Army,
Who made "shite" of the whole bloody lot.