by Meda Ryan
Tom saw ‘no conclusion’ to the conflict ‘except victory’.[33]
Notes
[1] Tony Woods in MacEoin, Survivors, p. 329.
[2]Cork Examiner, 20 March 1921.
[3] The homes of Volunteers, Jack Hartnett and Paddy O’Leary were burned. O’Leary was in Spike Island prison at the time, having been captured after Upton ambush.
[4]Cork Examiner, 30 April 1921.
[5]Daily Mail, 21 March 1921.
[6]Cork Examiner, 21 March 1921.
[7]Charlie O’Keeffe, author interview, 7/12/1975.
[8]Tom Kelleher, author interview 6/4/1974.
[9]Tom Barry, author interview; Tim O’Donoghue, The Fall of Rosscarbery Barracks, A/0618, Military Archives, Dublin.
[10]Tom Barry, author interview. It was while speaking of Rosscarbery that he reminisced on his youth there. Tom Kelleher, author interview 9/4/1979; Jack O’Sullivan, author interview 25/4/1976; O’Donoghue, A/0618, Military Archives, Dublin.
[11]Tom Kelleher, author interview 9/4/1979. Initially Barry called for volunteers to execute this dangerous task.
[12]Tom Kelleher, author interview 9/4/1979; Jack O’Sullivan, author interview 25/4/1976; Denis Lordan, author interview 7/7/1974; Tom Barry, author interview; Tom Barry notes, TB private papers, Tom Barry, The Irish Press, 25/5/1948; O’Donoghue, A/0618, Military Archives, Dublin.
[13]Tim O’Donoghue, A/0618, 1X, Military Archives, Dublin; Tim O’Donoghue, Rebel Cork’s Fighting Story, pp. 163–66; Butler, pp. 140–142; Irish Press, 25/5/1948; Tom Barry’s manuscript, TB private papers, Tom Barry, author interview; Denis Lordan, author interview 7/7/1974; Tom Kelleher, author interview 9/4/1979’; Jack O’Sullivan, author interview 20/4/1976.
[14]Cork Examiner, 1 April, 1921.
[15]Béaslaí, Vol. 11, p. 182.
[16]Butler, pp. 145, 146; Hales Family Papers, held by Ann Hales, courtesy of Maura Murphy and Eily Hales McCarthy.
[17]Tom Barry, manuscript, TB private papers; Barry, Guerilla Days, p. 155.
[18]Tom Barry, author interview; Seán Buckley, Southern Star, 12/12/1936; Tom Barry, Guerilla Days, p. 156; Tom Barry, to Griffith and O’Grady, Curious Journey, pp. 220, 221; Tom Barry in conversation with Dave O’Sullivan. He told of the dinner with Col Hudson, home video (early 1970s) courtesy of Dave O’Sullivan.
[19]Tom Barry to Donncha Ó Dulaing, early 1970s, RTÉ Sound Archives.
[20]Madge Hales Murphy, author interview 6/3/1973. Madge was bound to secrecy. Michael Collins had sent Madge on this responsible mission.
[21]Barry to Raymond Smith, The Irish Independent, 7 July 1971.
[22]Tom Barry, manuscript, TB private papers.
[23]Ernie O’Malley, On Another Man’s Wound, p. 306.
[24]Tom Barry, Guerilla Days, p. 159; Seán Hegarty, FO’D Papers, MS 31,206, NLI.
[25]Tom Barry, notes, TB Papers, Butler, pp. 148–150; Barry, Guerilla Days, p. 159, O’Malley On Another Man’s Wound, p. 307; Deasy, p. 266–268; Meda Ryan, The Real Chief – The Story of Liam Lynch, pp. 66–68; Ernie O’Malley, On Another Man’s Wound, p. 154–158.
[26]Tom Barry manuscript, TB private papers; Barry, Guerilla Days, p. 159.
[27]Tom Barry manuscript, TB private papers; also Barry, Guerilla Days, p. 161.
[28]Ryan, The Real Chief, pp. 29–32.
[29]O’Malley, On Another Man’s Wound, p. 308; Florence O’Donoghue, No Other Law, pp. 154–158; Barry, Guerilla, Days, pp. 161, 162; Tom Barry’s notes and manuscript, TB private papers.
[30]See Deasy, pp. 272, 273; Barry, Guerilla Days, p. 164; Cork Examiner, 10, 11, 12 May 1921.
[31]Barry, Guerilla Days, p. 166.
[32]Report of Activities, 20/5/1921, FO’D Papers, MS. 31,206, NLI; Tom Barry manuscript, TB private papers; Barry, Guerilla Days, pp. 179–170.
[33]Tom Barry, unpublished piece, TB private papers.
10 - To Michael Collins and GHQ
The Government of Ireland Act was to commence operation on 19 May 1921. As a gesture of conciliation to those of the majority faith in southern Ireland, Lord Fitzalan succeeded Lord French as lord-lieutenant. When nominations for a general election in southern and northern Ireland closed on 13 May, De Valera as President of Sinn Féin declared that the ‘election is nothing less than the legitimacy of the Republic.’ In southern Ireland Republican candidates were returned unopposed in 124 of the 128 constituencies.
However, the IRA war continued. In West Cork alone British forces facing the guerrilla fighters numbered 12,600 men including 11 infantry battalions, 1,150 police, 540 Auxiliaries, two brigades of field artillery and a machine-gun battalion’, according to the British war records.
Winston Churchill, as chairman of the cabinet committee on Irish affairs, said that in order to crush the IRA, ‘A hundred thousand new special troops must be raised, thousands of motor cars must be armoured and equipped; the three southern provinces of Ireland must be closely laced with cordons of block-houses and barbed-wire; a systematic rummaging and questioning of every individual must be put in force.’[1]
Despite all this, Barry and his flying column were determined to continue. A massive ambush using over 100 men was being planned for Gloundaw on the Dunmanway-Drimoleague road; but before the ambush was scheduled to take place, Barry had to take a trip to Dublin.
Over the previous months GHQ had decided that they would like to see the man who was so capable, daring and brave in training and leading the men of the Third West Cork Brigade Flying Column. He was also the man who never hesitated to disagree with orders or recommendations from GHQ, and would send a swift message of his disagreement. De Valera fixed 19 May as the day for the meeting with Barry.
Getting to Dublin was a problem for a man whom the British wanted to get their hands on. He was, at this time in the British Gazette, Hue & Cry ‘one of the most wanted men’ in Ireland. By car would be unsafe, so train was the chosen mode of transport. Tom, who was a little nervous about his forthcoming journey, decided he would travel as a medical student. He was coached in medical terminology by a number of medical students on active service. This preparation had to be thorough because, as he was aware, should he be captured and recognised, ‘The British had more than ample evidence against me to enable one of their drumhead court-martials to rapidly arrange my exit at the end of a rope or before their firing squads’.[2]Consequently, he was provided with notes on medicine, textbooks, forceps and other paraphernalia usually found in the possession of a second-year medical student. He borrowed a name from Ted Ryder, near Crookstown, who lent him used envelopes and letters. O’Mahonys of Belrose bought him a hat, shoes, shirt, socks and pyjamas. Kathleen O’Connell of the Ballydehob Cumann na mBan, who had been keeping his only suit in storage, was to have it delivered to Caheragh, Skibbereen headquarters, on 16 May.
Barry travelled all night on horseback and arrived at headquarters on the morning of 16 May. He was tired, and rolled up in a few army blankets; he fell asleep immediately in a makeshift bivouac erected in a nearby field, camouflaged by a thick growth of briars. After a few hours he was ‘rudely pulled out’ of his blankets when news that a large column of British military on foot had halted a few miles down the road, and was enquiring for him by name.
The scout bringing the suit, who was travelling with the parcel labelled with Tom’s name and rank, was waylaid by a British officer, but refused to give details. The British officer, equipped with the parcel and dressed in the scout’s clothes, made enquiries and was almost to Barry’s destination when one householder suspected something and crossed the fields ahead of the officer thus giving Barry enough time to get out before British soldiers came and surrounded the place.
Tom Barry was upset at losing his only real suit of clothes so close to the day of travelling. A tailor in Crookstown was summoned. He promised to work all through the night and have another suit ready in the morning. Tom went back cross-country to Belrose and stayed there that night before setting out for Dublin. Suits of clothes obviously we
ren’t in his favour. A member of the Cumann na mBan who brought the speedily made suit to Belrose was followed. Tom grabbed the suit, changed and just leaped through the opened side window before soldiers arrived to raid the premises.
Later that evening undaunted the O’Mahony girls, whose home had been burned a few weeks previously and were staying in a barn, drove him in a pony and trap to Cork railway station, handed him his first-class return ticket and a number of pro-British newspapers and periodicals. With a new name, a new suit, a new hat and other alien attachments he walked nervously past the Black and Tans and other military personnel.[3]
Deciding that he would be less noticeable amongst others he entered a carriage where three men were already seated. Two looked like businessmen and one like a British military officer, so he decided he would sit opposite him. Within a short space of time they were engaged in a friendly conversation. The soldier was ‘going on a spot of leave and not sorry to leave this damned country’. Of course Tom didn’t blame him with all the trouble going on, and in exchange for the officer’s confidence he gave him all the data about the problems of being a medical student. He had been studying so hard he had suspected lung trouble and was going to Dublin to be examined by a specialist.
At the first military check at Mallow Station, Tom’s companion produced his identity card and informed the sergeant of the search party that Tom was a medical student and everything was all right. This process was repeated at two further checks during the journey. The two parted company at Kingsbridge and wished each other luck, the officer to return to the British military barracks, Tom to the IRA headquarters. In later years Tom said, ‘I wish I met him afterwards, because he was a damn nice fellow.’[4]
Tom met Gearóid O’Sullivan and Michael Collins on arrival at Liam Devlin’s and was taken in their company to O’Donovan’s house in the suburbs where he was to stay during his six nights in Dublin. Each morning he would leave the house with one of these men who conducted their business under the guise of businessmen. He met all the officers at GHQ as well as ‘The Squad’. He couldn’t help contrasting their lives – posing as businessmen with attaché cases, putting in regular hours, coming and going to an office – with those of the hunted, insecure men of the West Cork Brigade.
One night Michael Collins, Gearóid O’Sullivan, Seán Ó Muirthile and Tom – four of Ireland’s most wanted men – were returning in a jaunting car when a large party of Auxiliaries stopped them.
‘Act drunk,’ Collins whispered as the Auxies ordered them out. He proceeded to give a masterly performance, joking and blasting in turn while being searched. In no time he had the search party laughing, and Barry trying to put on his act couldn’t help but wonder how callously the Essex would treat such a performance in the fields down south.
Treating them as a few merry men, the Auxiliaries allowed them to go on their way. Tom was alarmed, and afterwards asked Collins why they didn’t send a scout on in front. ‘You’re a windy beggar from West Cork’, said Collins. Tom was furious and lashed out. ‘You’re a member of the Dáil and might be slightly immune. It may not be easy to sustain murder charges against GHQ officers but they’d have no problem in finding a charge of murder against me. You handle them your way, but I like to face these bloody fellows with a revolver.’ They continued to argue out the point. Eventually Tom was convinced that the methods GHQ adopted were the best for them in a Dublin situation, but they wouldn’t do in West Cork.[5]
Tom, who was always fascinated by military matters, enjoyed his conversations with the chief-of-staff, Richard Mulcahy, whom he found meticulous as he probed him on training and tactics, and asked how he was able to take a flying column into action, with so little backing. However his meeting with Cathal Brugha was unsatisfactory. Collins introduced the pair and left immediately. ‘Cathal, with a minimum of words, asked me some questions and used only monosyllables to comment on my replies.’ Tom ‘completely failed to elicit a single one of his views on the policy and tactics of the IRA or on defence of which he was the responsible minister.’ Later he discovered that ‘a coolness’ existed between Collins and Brugha, perhaps in relation to the IRB connection. Tom ‘came to the conclusion’ that his ‘extreme reserve’ was ‘due to his natural suspicions’ that Tom ‘was one of the Collins party’.[6] Tom himself never joined the IRB. Robert Barton in response to Tom’s query on IRB membership, said that he [Barton] ‘was never an enthusiastic member of the IRB’ and that ‘Dev and Cathal Brugha left after 1916, probably on account of the then spirit … About Dev’s membership I can vouch for as MacDonagh mentioned [it to] me in Holy Week 1916. Collins asked me in 1917 to speak to Dev on the matter, but Dev refused to rejoin’. So too did Cathal Brugha.[7]
Barry found that the men in GHQ ‘were very interested in the different engagements we’d had in Cork because up to then all they’d had was press reports. I also saw a worse thing, and that was the beginning of political cliques in Dublin. It didn’t break out until after the Treaty, but you could see it developing before that’.[8]
Tom found Michael Collins ‘outstanding’ as director of intelligence, ‘the driving force and the backbone’ of GHQ. ‘A tireless, ruthless, dominating man of great capacity, he worked like a trojan in innumerable capacities to defeat the enemy.’ He entered every branch of headquarters. From conversations with him, Tom got an insight into how, with his ‘many helpers Mick was continually cracking their intelligence code messages’.
Tom found Mick full of life and energy; he would come bouncing into Liam Devlin’s or Vaughan’s and challenge someone to wrestle him. Tom himself, being rather light, had no intention of accepting the challenge; but one night Mick decided he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He bounced forward and the two men swayed as they jostled round and round the room, and shortly they fell together. ‘Then we were really fighting!’ The two aggressive men had to be pulled apart by Gearóid O’Sullivan, Seán Ó Muirthile and others. On their feet once more, the two were angry and said they wanted to fight it out; they were not finished. A few minutes later Collins laughed, bent forward, shook Tom’s hand, and then clinched his fist in front of the smiling Tom, whereupon the others all joined in.
Barry, with Collins most of this time, was present during his interviews with different departments and found that Collins delved deeply into the work of units before speaking to country officers. One man who, Barry recounts, commanded a unit outstanding for inefficiency and lack of energy, was asking Collins for arms. Collins got up, thrust his hands into his pockets, shot back at the petitioner, ‘what the hell does a lot of lousers like you want arms for? You have rifles and revolvers galore but you have never yet used them.’ He tackled the man about a Black and Tan who was allowed to roam the area unhindered, terrorising and shooting people, and he finished up by telling him to, ‘Get to hell out of this office and don’t come back until you’ve done some fighting!’
Collins drove Barry into the suburbs of Dublin on 23 May to meet Eamon de Valera. Some people warned him that Dev was a cold, austere, aloof and unsmiling man. Others said he was anxious to appease the British and wished to repudiate the County Cork brigades. But Dev soon put him at ease. Barry found him extremely likeable and spent two and a half hours discussing the West Cork Brigade and the ambushes. Dev seemed to be very well informed of their activities and wanted full details of each action. He asked about Kilmichael, Crossbarry, Rosscarbery, Toureen and other engagements, and listened carefully while Barry answered the questions.
Barry talked about the difficulties the West Cork Brigade would face now that the summer season had arrived with the shorter nights and longer days. Military raids would be easier and cover would be more difficult for the IRA. He spoke about the ammunition shortage, and Dev was hopeful that ‘Mick would get some through in time’.
Several times he seemed to ask about the opinions of the people, and how well they supported the IRA. Towards the close of their talk Dev asked, ‘How long can the West Cork flying column keep t
he field against the British?’
‘It depends on the British reinforcements, and the amount of arms we are able to obtain,’ said Barry. After a pause he told him they could last another five years.
Dev bolted upright. ‘A bit too optimistic’, came his reply. Barry knew he exaggerated, but says he never regretted this overly optimistic view.[9]
Barry had arranged to leave Dublin on 24 May but Michael Collins asked him to stay for another day to see a demonstration of a new sub-machine-gun, the Thompson. An Irish-American ex-army officer had smuggled two of the guns into the country. Following the demonstration, Collins asked Barry to take the first shot. At first Barry declined, fearing he would be off target and would consequently be letting himself and the West Cork Brigade down. They insisted. He took aim and smashed all the distant bricks to pieces.[10]
Before they went to sleep that night Collins talked with Barry into the early hours about ‘the many abortive peace feelers sent out by the British government since the commencement of hostilities. He had a great distrust of the motives behind those enemy moves, and considered them, in the main, as attempts to seduce the support of the people from the Irish Republican army.’