Leinster Leader January 30 1971
Late Kit Mills
On Saturday, 16th January, Kit Mills was laid to rest. No flag, no trumpets, no volley ― Kit went to his eternal rest, exactly as he would have wished. And we are all the poorer for his passing.
My longest memory of Kit is linked with sunlight, dappled water of the Liffey, deep shade of river-bank trees and the twinkling of his kindly eyes as he revealed to me the marvellous fund of knowledge, which was his, of where the biggest trout lay and how to coax them to take. How many times have I met Kit, when my owm bag was empty, and his well filled, and he handed me a fine trout, just to keep my spirits up! Later on, when I got my first rifle, Kit would always accept a fat rabbit from me to even the score.
A devoted family man, Kit was seldom happier than when, sitting by the fire, with his family about him he would tell stories of the hard times of long ago, when two shillings a week was lordly wages, and the boy in school, asked "who is the Lord," saw fit to answer ― "Lord Mayo, Lord Leitrim, and all the others sir." Even when he attained his three score years and ten, Kit was full of the joys of life, and had as little time as ever for "the moaners and the begrudgers."
I knew Kit Mills a long long time before I could drag from him the details of his earlier exploits, when fighting for our country's freedom. And even then, the exploits that made him legendary among his comrades had to be described by others. Kit always said that he fought to be free ― not for money or fame, or wealth, or, least of all, a pension. He used that freedom to the full, glorying in the sports of rod and gun, a storehouse of information on stream and field, a kindly, helpful man, a good husband and proud father.
And now Kit is no longer with us. To his wife, Bridget, his sons Mick and Peter, and to his daughters I extend my most sincere sympathy. His old world is changing fast, and we are all losers by his going.
J.P.