The following day an open letter from Frank Keane was published in the morning newspapers. In it, he accused the police of making scapegoats of him and the other men on the list, who were ‘in all possibility quite innocent of this unfortunate crime’. Keane then fled the country to England.
The Fallon murder caused bitter internal recriminations in a Force already riven by low morale. The uniformed and ‘crime ordinary’ branches, both of which were unarmed, wondered why armed Special Branch officers hadn’t responded to the call sooner. It also inevitably sparked the ubiquitous debate about arming the police. This would become a recurring theme over the years when other members of the Force were murdered.
On 29 April, the Special Branch discovered the training camp at Lacken, County Wicklow. They recovered firearms, detonators, combat uniforms and other military equipment. Questions were asked as to why it had not been found earlier. Informants had already revealed that Saor Eire was operating a camp somewhere in the Wicklow Mountains.
The murder of Garda Fallon caused an unprecedented public display of grief and anger. The Government hadn’t organized a State funeral but on Monday, 6 April Dublin came to a standstill as people turned out to honour the fallen policeman. Thousands left their homes, schools and workplaces to pay their respects along the route, as the funeral cortège slowly made its way across the city. It passed from the policeman’s church of St Paul of the Cross in Mount Argus, Harold’s Cross, through O’Connell Street and onwards to Balgriffin Cemetery in the north of the city. Up to 2,000 Gardaí marched in step behind the hearse for the entire journey. The Garda Band, which had been dissolved on cost-cutting grounds five years earlier, voluntarily reformed to lead the funeral of their slain colleague. A solemn silence fell over the city as the hearse passed the GPO. The sound of the Gardaí’s marching feet in step behind it signalled the death knell of peace in Ireland.
The treatment of Dick Fallon’s widow and children by the Government and the Garda authorities in the months and years that followed was nothing short of shameful. Despite the expressions of support at the time, they were effectively forgotten about. Deirdre Fallon was left to rear her children with little financial support and even had to pay for the funeral herself. The gunmen destroyed more than one life when they opened fire that morning in April 1970.
In the corridors of power Dick Fallon’s murder caused panic behind closed doors. Rumours of collusion between government figures and Saor Eire were no longer being whispered around Leinster House as deputies spoke openly of an unholy alliance. Within weeks of the murder the Taoiseach, Jack Lynch, was informed that ministers Charles Haughey and Neil Blaney were involved in a plot to import arms from the Continent for nationalist defence committees in Belfast. The plan had been hatched as the Six Counties descended towards all-out civil war; Northern republicans had asked the ministers for weapons to protect their communities. An Irish army intelligence officer, Captain James Kelly, had been sent to the Continent with a big shopping list: 200 machine-guns, 84 light machine-guns, 50 general-purpose machine-guns, 50 assault rifles, 200 pistols, grenades and a large amount of ammunition. The arsenal was enough to equip an army battalion. Blaney had recruited an interpreter, an Irishman of Belgian origin called Albert Luykx, to help organize the deal. Haughey, as Minister for Finance, with overall control of Customs and Excise and the George Dixon bank account, would ensure that the arms were paid for and smuggled into the country without being stopped.
Although the arms deal was never finalized, Jack Lynch, who claimed no knowledge of the plot, sacked both ministers on 6 May 1970 in a bid to salvage the integrity of the Government. The Minister for Justice, Michael O’Morain, was also sacked from the Cabinet. Other prominent members of Fianna Fáil resigned in support of the dismissed ministers.
The suspicions of collusion between Saor Eire and the government ministers had also been confirmed. But in the Dáil, Neil Blaney went to great lengths to distance himself from the charges of arms smuggling and from Saor Eire. He described the rumours that he’d had anything to do with subversives as ‘sinister, subtle and blackguardly’. He declared: ‘I have no guns; I have procured no guns; I have paid for no guns and I have provided money to pay for no guns.’ Blaney referred directly to Saor Eire, now the most hated group in the country: ‘They are a lousy outfit. I have nothing but the utmost contempt for them.’ In the aftermath of Dick Fallon’s murder, it was clear there would be no more government-sponsored plots to arm republican groups. The days of Saor Eire were numbered.
Haughey, Blaney and Captain Kelly were subsequently charged with conspiracy to illegally import arms into the country. The charges against Blaney were dropped in the District Court and both Haughey and Kelly were acquitted after trials by jury. Less than a decade later, Charles Haughey became Taoiseach, at a time when the Provos were at the height of their murderous, criminal war. Captain Kelly claimed for the rest of his life that he’d been working with the secret approval of the Government.
Des O’Malley, who was appointed as Minister for Justice to take over from O’Morain, believes that the ‘Arms Crisis’ posed a sinister threat: ‘It became clear when the attempts to import arms came to light, that there was a very serious threat indeed to the very integrity of the State because in 1969 and 1970 there was subversion within the State, within the very Government that was there to represent and protect the State and its citizens, and that made it so much more sinister. And it was perhaps the most serious threat to the State internally since the civil war and in many respects I suppose it could be compared to the potential threat from outside during the Second World War.’
A week after the sensational ministerial sackings in Dublin, Saor Eire leader Frank Keane was arrested. Police in London captured him on behalf of the Irish authorities, who had issued warrants for his arrest. The Gardaí had moved quickly to assemble their case against Keane and two other members of the gang, Joe Dillon and John Morrissey. But evidence against the men was weak. It was mostly dependent on Garda Paul Firth, who claimed he could identify them.
The State applied to the British courts to have Keane extradited to face trial for the murder of Dick Fallon and the Rathdrum escapade. Frank Keane challenged his extradition in the Old Bailey on the grounds that his was a political crime. He admitted being a former member of the IRA and a leader of Saor Eire. Cathal Goulding, Chief of Staff of the Official IRA, sent a sworn affidavit to the hearing. He said Keane had been a member but had been dismissed from the organization over ‘policy disagreements’. Keane also produced testimony from witnesses who claimed that money from the armed robberies had been used for political purposes in Northern Ireland.
Meanwhile, on 17 June 1970, a jury in the Central Criminal Court found Padraig Dwyer guilty of shooting at the four unarmed Gardaí during the failed Ballyfermot robbery in October 1968 and of possession of firearms with intent to endanger life. The plumber had been recaptured in England and, like Frank Keane, fought extradition on the grounds it was a political crime. Incredibly, Dwyer only received a two-year suspended jail sentence in what could be seen as an indictment of the ambivalence of the times. Sean Doyle later got two years for his part in the same incident but was released after three months. This was after he gave a strict undertaking that he would not get involved in any more causes. Thomas O’Neill was also eventually convicted for the Ballyfermot incident and received two concurrent sentences of 18 months each. Simon O’Donnell was still on the run.
In July 1970, Saor Eire showed that it hadn’t gone away when an explosion ripped through the offices of Dalton Supplies in Bray, County Wicklow. No one was hurt in the blast. The social revolutionaries issued a statement claiming responsibility for the attack. In a declaration sent to the national newspapers they claimed the bomb was intended to force the company to accept recommendations made by the Labour Court on behalf of the workers. The unions didn’t appreciate the unsolicited ‘help’ from cop killers.
Then, on 13 October, 30-year-old Liam Walsh was blown t
o pieces. He was carrying a bomb along a rail track at the rear of McKee Army Barracks on Blackhorse Avenue in north Dublin. Martin Casey, who was with Walsh, was critically injured in the blast but survived. When their bodies were searched, the two men were carrying Star pistols from the consignment stolen in Birmingham. The Saor Eire leader was given a paramilitary-style funeral on 17 October which was attended by over 1,000 mourners. In what was seen as an attempt to add insult to the memory of Dick Fallon, Walsh’s funeral procession was diverted down O’Connell Street as it made its way from Inchicore to Mount Jerome Cemetery in Harold’s Cross. It stopped outside the GPO where speeches were made and a volley of shots was fired by Christy ‘Bronco’ Dunne.
Frank Keane fought his extradition case all the way to the House of Lords but eventually lost. The Saor Eire founder was sent back to Dublin and his trial began in June 1971. On 25 June a jury acquitted him of the murder of Garda Fallon, after witnesses failed to identify him as one of the raiders. The only positive identification of Keane at the scene was by Garda Firth. The other 38 witnesses testified that the raiders were wearing masks.
Keane was re-arrested the same day and this time charged with the Rathdrum heist. He was granted bail and a year later was again acquitted. Keane could only be identified by one witness, Garda Arrigan, the officer who had been held at gunpoint during the robbery. The court ruled that the Garda’s testimony could not be relied upon in the absence of other eye-witness testimony.
The former Saor Eire leader never featured in the courts again. Both Frank Keane and his pet political project seemed set to fade into obscurity but then, on 31 August, a four-man gang robbed the Ulster Bank in Kilcock, County Kildare. Shots were fired and the gang leader, Frank Ward, told the terrified customers and staff that they were from Saor Eire. Ward was typical of the hoods attracted to the gang. He was a violent and highly dangerous criminal who would go on to make his mark in gangland history.
On 16 October 1971, the Gardaí finally caught up with Joe Dillon and John Morrissey. They had been lying low in a safe house, in Bayside on Dublin’s north-side, and were captured after a high-speed chase. It ended when Special Branch detectives opened fire on their getaway car with a Thompson machine-gun. Both men were armed with handguns when they were arrested. Joe Dillon had been on the run since he’d walked out of the Four Courts in August 1967. The two terrorists were charged with the murder of Dick Fallon and remanded in custody.
Nine days later, on 25 October, the Trotskyite Peter Graham was murdered by Saor Eire members in what is believed to have been a row over money. The infamous ‘Guevarists’ had begun to implode. The chairman of the Young Socialists was first tortured and beaten with a hammer, before being shot in the neck and left to choke on his own blood. He was 26 years old. Graham’s funeral was attended by many well-known republicans and left-wing radicals. Among the mourners was RTÉ reporter Charlie Bird, who was pictured giving a clenched-fist salute at the graveside. Graham’s Young Socialist comrade Maureen Keegan died from cancer in 1972.
A month after the murder, in November 1971, Joe Dillon was jailed for six years for the Drumcondra robbery in 1968. His fingerprints had been found in a glove left behind in the gang’s getaway car. Two days later his comrade, 29-year-old Martin Casey, was jailed for four years for possession of firearms in connection with the bomb blast near McKee Barracks. He was subsequently acquitted of the 1969 Baltinglass robbery in the Special Criminal Court. Casey made no public issue of his trip to London with Jock Haughey.
In January 1972, Joe Dillon and John Morrissey stood trial for the murder of Dick Fallon. They were also acquitted because of the unreliable visual identification by Garda Paul Firth and other inconsistencies in his evidence. A month later the two hoods received 18 months each for possession of firearms at the time of their arrest. On the same day, two RUC policemen were shot dead when their car was sprayed with machine-gun fire in Derry. The Provos had already seized Saor Eire’s revolutionary limelight.
As the trial of Dillon and Morrissey commenced, Gardaí also caught up with Simon O’Donnell. He hadn’t been seen since he’d gone on the run in 1968 but he was one of the men sought following the Fallon murder. Despite the heat now coming down on what was left of Saor Eire, O’Donnell was still busy raising money for his cause. He was captured after a hold-up at the Ulster Bank branch in Ranelagh, Dublin, on 6 January 1972. O’Donnell and his Saor Eire criminal associate, Tommy Savage, had got away with £1,827. Savage, a 22-year-old chemical processor from Swords, had only recently joined the ‘cause’ and this was his first time coming to the attention of the Gardaí. The two blaggers had been arrested after they were found hiding in a house near the bank they had just robbed. The remnants of Saor Eire were nabbed after a bank employee followed them to the house and called the police. The house was surrounded and O’Donnell and Savage surrendered. When Savage came out with his hands up, he made an impromptu speech on the pavement. He said: ‘I only want a fair trial. I have nothing whatsoever to do with the bank robbery in Ranelagh.’ The money was never recovered.
In March, O’Donnell was tried for the 1968 Newbridge robbery. He was acquitted by a jury, again because of the weak evidence against him. Immediately afterwards he was remanded in custody for the robbery in Ranelagh. A month later he was convicted for that offence and jailed for seven years. In his defence, his counsel told the court that he had been stealing the money for a political cause. He was never charged with the Fallon murder.
Tommy Savage was convicted a few weeks later on the same charges and also got seven years. Gardaí said that Savage came from a good family and implied that he had been adversely influenced by Simon O’Donnell. Mr Justice Butler told Savage that if, after serving three years, he had complied with normal prison regulations, the remainder of the sentence would be suspended. The judge said he ‘objected strongly to people taking advantage of the present political state of the country to give cheap, petty crime a political connotation’. But Tommy Savage had no intention of ever going straight and this was the only time the police ever said anything good about him. In the years to come he would continue to straddle the worlds of organized crime and dissident republicanism. For Savage, the Ranelagh job was the start of a long and violent criminal career.
Simon O’Donnell was back before Mr Justice Butler two months later for the Ballyfermot shooting in 1968. This time he pleaded guilty and received another ten years, the longest sentence yet handed down to any of the Saor Eire mavericks. During the hearing, Mr Justice Butler asked if O’Donnell could give an undertaking that he would no longer involve himself in political organizations. He refused. In passing sentence, Judge Butler commented on what the rest of the Establishment were beginning to finally realize: ‘Far too many petty criminals are masquerading under the banner of patriotism and committing crimes for their own selfish ends.’
Within two years of Dick Fallon’s murder in April 1970, Saor Eire had faded into obscurity and most of its leaders were never heard of again. In May 1973, its members in Portlaoise Prison announced that they were resigning from the organization because it had been taken over by ‘undesirable elements and gangsters’. Members of the group in Cork and Dublin had joined emerging criminal gangs or the Official IRA, which was also heavily involved in organized crime. Other former Saor Eire members joined the Provos. Some of the most ruthless armed robbers and drug-dealers who emerged during the following decades came from the ranks of the socialist revolutionary mob. Almost thirty years later Joe Dillon, who had continued to be an active republican, joined the dissident 32-County Sovereignty Movement and acted as its official spokesman. Dillon and his comrades totally opposed the Peace Process in the North. They accused the Sinn Féin and IRA leadership of selling out on their old ideals of achieving a united Ireland through force of arms. The veteran Saor Eire member soon found himself in trouble with the law again. On 5 January 1998, he was arrested with two other men and charged with possession of an explosive substance with intent to endanger life. T
hey eventually stood trial before the Special Criminal Court in June 2001. On the eighth day of the hearing, counsel for the State dramatically announced that it would not be proceeding any further. The decision to enter a nolle prosequi on all the charges came after the court ruled that coded numbers, referring to members of the Garda National Surveillance Unit, should be disclosed to the defence. The Gardaí argued that by making the numbers public it would remove cover from the specialist unit and inhibit future investigations. Joe Dillon walked out of the court a free man.
In 1974, a group of former Saor Eire members, including Tommy Savage, helped spawn a new Marxist terror gang, the Irish National Liberation Army (INLA), following an acrimonious split from the Official IRA. The INLA and its political wing, the Irish Republican Socialist Party (IRSP), officially came into existence at a meeting in a Dublin hotel on 19 December 1974. Its leader was Seamus Costelloe, a former Official IRA man from Bray, County Wicklow. He styled the organization on terror groups such as the Red Brigade and the Baader-Meinhof gang. The INLA’s purported aim was the establishment of a socialist united Ireland. It took over where Saor Eire had left off.
The organization became a magnet for criminals and the lowlife dregs of republicanism. In essence their cause of an ‘Irish socialist republic’ was a flag of convenience for psychopaths, mass murderers, drug-dealers and thugs. Among the INLA’s leaders were cold-blooded killers Dominic McGlinchey and Dessie O’Hare, who, between them, were responsible for some of the worst atrocities of the Troubles. Their more ‘celebrated’ acts of war included an attempted massacre at a Pentecostal prayer meeting. Three church elders died during the attack and seven more were seriously injured when gunmen sprayed the congregation with machine-gun fire.
Badfellas Page 5