It is remarkable that although some hundreds of men (and two or three women) have served as superintendents of the Garda since the foundation of the State, this is the first essay by any of them into the realm of autobiography. Tim Leahy joined the force in 1946 after completing his secondary education in Co Kerry and progressed through the ranks, being appointed a superintendent in 1972. He retired in 1990.

The "super" is usually a quietly influential figure, especially in rural Ireland. He runs a district, perhaps half a county, with anything from half a dozen to a dozen stations. He prosecutes in court. He is the authority on a host of regulatory matters from the licensing of firearms to the authorising of raffle tickets. He is responsible at operational level for the investigation of all serious crime in his district. Yet in some ways, he is the unseen link in the Garda structure. The guard and the sergeant are familiar figures in the town or village. The commissioner-rank officers are well known at national level. But the "super" and the "chief" (chief superintendent) are largely invisible.

In the early years of the Garda many superintendents came through the cadet system or through accelerated promotion opportunities which were put in place to give the young force an efficient officer-corps. Today, all gardai start at the basic grade but remnants of the old "officers and men" syndrome persist. Superintendents and above are "officers" (their appointment is gazetted by the Government) and there are differences in uniform styles, although over the decades they have rarely worn uniform other than for court or formal inspections. Nowadays, however, appearances on Crimeline or television news seem to persuade most of them to dress up for the camera.

Tim Leahy's autobiography spans his life from childhood to retirement, with something less than half of its narrative concentrating on his period as a superintendent. Perhaps, in that, its title is something of a misnomer. But his years as a superintendent have yielded the most insightful part of his book. Life as a ranking guard has been chronicled before, although even this has been infrequent. This is the first view from "local management".

It paints a picture at once comforting and disquieting. These were the days before "blue flu" and before the gardai found it necessary to hire private security officers to protect themselves from other gardai. He conveys the sense of a confident, secure organisation which perhaps moves slowly but generally moves surely. There is an impression of calm control with which an efficient police chief runs his network of stations and directs his men. Problems to be tackled range from murder to minor disciplinary infringements by members. For every problem there is a procedure. For every procedure there is an inspection. For every inspection there is a report - perhaps favourable, perhaps otherwise.

The narrative well describes the paradox of the traditional police structure. It is immutably hierarchical and procedurally rigid. Yet within it, the individual police officer is expected to display initiative, self-motivation and versatility. It has been the ability of individual members to resolve that paradox, to square the circle, which has given the Garda Siochana its remarkably positive relationship with the community it serves. The author - probably wisely - skates over this interesting but potentially controversial area of his subject. When does a decision not to prosecute, say, an errant publican, cease to be discretion and when does it become favouritism?

There is a widespread impression in contemporary circumstances that much police business gets only cursory attention. Perhaps things were different in Tim Leahy's time or perhaps they were handled differently in rural areas with low crime rates. But one is struck again and again in his narrative by the meticulous care, attention to detail and perseverance with which crime or other incidents are approached and handled. No less is one impressed by the sense of vocational commitment which comes across. There is an impression of pride and public service which may or may not be universal in the force in the late 1990s.

This is a story located in an Ireland which is still there but in retreat. Tim Leahy's sojourn as a police officer was probably a leisurely one by comparison with that of today's members. There are recurring themes of golf, companionable nights with friends and colleagues, and impressive accounts of community presentations and expressions of goodwill as the Leahy family moved around Ireland on transfer. If one had no interest in the policing aspect of the book one might read it as a social document, describing Ireland in transition.

The author is now living in retirement in Co Clare. In what must be something of a publishing first, the appearance of his autobiography was accompanied by the publication of two other books by his two sons. Gerard Leahy, who is a chartered accountant, published Towards a Jobless Society, which examines work trends in the future. Michael Leahy, an architect, published Freddie the Ballynahinch Fox, based on the life of a fox who regularly comes to visit Ballynahinch Castle in Connemara.