PREFACE
Every effort has been made to reproduce the accounts in this book as faithfully as possible and to retain the original spelling and punctuation. However, to avoid confusion, in some cases, spelling errors have been corrected, and the presentation of the originals has been altered to meet to the requirements of publishing. Some readers familiar with the history of the War of Independence will note that the accounts given by some of the men contain errors of fact. A conscious decision was made to print these accounts without extensive footnoting or commentary on the text, so that the reader is free to read these accounts in a format as close as possible to the original documents.
Every effort was made to secure the copyright for each chapter in this book. While permission was given by the majority of copyright holders, regrettably, with the passage of time, it has not been possible to contact all the holders. The remaining accounts have been printed with the permission of the relevant archives.
I have attempted to provide the fullest biographies possible for each individual in this book, but in some cases, the specific details have proved difficult to trace. Finally, I would like to thank the Imperial War Museum and the Liddell Hart Centre for Military Archives, for their co-operation in the development of this book.
WILLIAM SHEEHAN
August, 2005
INTRODUCTION
THE MILITARY CONFLICT in Ireland from 1919 to 1921 has been given many names: the War of Independence, the Anglo-Irish War or the Anglo-Irish conflict. All, however, describe a process that led to the separation from the Union and the creation of the Irish Free State and, ultimately, the Republic of Ireland.
After the 1918 election and the creation of Dáil Éireann in 1919, leaders like Eamonn de Valera and Michael Collins began a military resistance against British government in Ireland. This was to complement the political resistance and ensure the creation of a republic. However, the initial target of the IRA (Irish Republican Army) was not the British Army, but the Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC). During 1919 and early 1920, many police barracks were attacked and a number of policemen were killed, and the RIC slowly began to disintegrate. At first, the British government, under David Lloyd-George, responded by recruiting ex-servicemen into the RIC; these men became known as the Black and Tans. Contrary to Irish folk memory, they were not the dregs of British prisons, but ex-servicemen, many with distinguished war records; recent research has shown that many were Irish. These recruits, however, were not sufficient to bolster a failing RIC, and a second group was created: the Auxiliary Division, RIC. Composed of ex-officers, this force was tasked with taking the fight to the IRA – something they readily did. They were also guilty of many attacks on civilians, and were largely held to be responsible for the burning of Cork in late 1920.
The British government – anxious to put further pressure on the republican movement so as to bring de Valera to the negotiating table – allowed the British Army to commence independent operations against the IRA in late 1920. Over the coming months and up to the Truce on 11 July 1921, the British Army placed the IRA under increasing pressure – a fact testified to by many IRA volunteers in their private papers. This pressure was shown to deadly effect at Clonmult, County Cork, where thirteen IRA volunteers died, and at Lackelly, County Tipperary, where seven IRA men were killed. This increased pressure influenced Michael Collins and Arthur Griffith when they negotiated and agreed to the Treaty with Lloyd-George and Churchill in London.
Those who are primarily interested in Irish history should also remember that from 1918 to 1922, Ireland was not the only campaign the British Army was engaged in, nor the only military threat facing Great Britain. The British were involved in the occupation of Iraq, a military intervention in the Russian Civil War, the suppression of a rebellion in Malabar in India, a war with Afghanistan, a potential war with Turkey, the occupation of Germany, and was contending with serious political unrest in Egypt. All of these placed severe demands on British military resources, and predisposed the British government to negotiate a settlement in Ireland.
More, perhaps, than any other area of Irish history, the War of Independence has generated a wealth of published material, from memoirs of those who fought in it to a multitude of works by academics and local historians, among them the accounts of Tom Barry, Ernie O’Malley, Dan Breen and C.S. Andrews, to name only a few. But British-penned accounts have been scant. Many of the regimental histories ignore the War of Independence completely; for example, Alan Wykes’ The Royal Hampshire Regiment makes no mention of the campaign, nor does John Downham’s The East Lancashire Regiment, 1855–1958 . Those that do – such as W.J.P Aggett’s The Bloody Eleventh: History of the Devonshire Regiment, Vol. III, 1915 to 1969 , and Colonel J.M. Cowper’s The King’s Own: The Story of a Royal Regiment, Vol. III, 1914 to 1950 – give it only a few pages. Yet within the archives can be found a wealth of information on this subject.
There has been a considerable debate over the last few years over ‘revisionist’ history; indeed, a very vocal refutation of it by those who hold the ‘traditional’ view. However, as this work will suggest, all history must be continually reviewed, especially when new primary material becomes available. Nevertheless, this book is neither a work of revisionism nor review; it is, rather, an act of restoration. It seeks to restore to the narrative of the war the long-lost voices of British servicemen who fought in it, so that we can arrive at a more complete understanding of the campaign and the events. Some of the accounts in this volume may reinforce people in their traditional view of the British conduct of the war; others, I am sure, will probably challenge it.
Many of the accounts detail the tedium and boredom of British military life in Ireland during this period. They show the central role of sport as an important diversion for the troops in Ireland. Some of the stories describe dances, pubs and relationships with local women. The reader will also note that many of these accounts were collected or written in the 1970s, and that many of the accounts link the two campaigns: the First World War and the Irish War of Independence.
Almost all the stories deal with military operations carried out during the campaign, together with the issue of morale, and the army’s relationship with the Royal Irish Constabulary and the local communities. It may surprise Irish readers to learn that many British soldiers felt that they were winning the war; indeed, many believe their victory was ‘stolen’ by the British politicians who agreed to the Truce and negotiated the Treaty. Many others are outspoken in their dislike of the war in Ireland and the nature of the campaign itself.
Commander De L’Faunce and Vice Admiral Baillie Grohman offer a rare insight into British naval operations conducted as part of the war, from the prevention of gun smuggling to the use of the navy in the re-supply of military and coastguard outposts, and the transportation of important personnel. Likewise, Flying Officer Penny provides a unique view of RAF (Royal Air Force) operations in Ireland during the war, from reconnaissance missions over the Wicklow Mountains to helping Alcock and Brown’s transatlantic flight.The use of aeroplanes during the war is also touched on in the accounts of Field Marshal Montgomery and Lieutenant General Percival.
Brigadier Vinden provides an interesting view of life in the internment camp in the Curragh, including his friendship with Desmond Fitzgerald and a strange tale of a drinking session with Michael Collins. Captain Jeune, an intelligence officer, details the British experience of ‘Bloody Sunday’, the secret contacts between the British government and the IRA, and his role in breaking into Arthur Griffith’s house. The use and abuse of intelligence is also commented on by Lieutenant Colonel Lindsay Young and Lieutenant General Percival.
Details concerning the conduct of raids and searches can be found in the stories of Brigad
ier Clarke, Private Swindlehurst and Major General Wimberley. The importance of the need for a political settlement is acknowledged by Field Marshal Montgomery, Major General Wimberley and Brigadier Vinden. Vivid accounts concerning the treatment of prisoners are provided by Swindlehurst, Lindsay Young and Vinden. The transcripts of Percival’s lectures will be of interest to all students of warfare, not just those with an interest in the War of Independence. He gives a detailed account of his experiences in west Cork, particularly at Crossbarry, but he also deals with issues such as the use of artillery, tanks and aeroplanes in a guerrilla war. On a lighter side, there is the strange account by Wimberley of sending Gaelic-speaking Highlanders into a public house in Cobh to eavesdrop on the conversations of locals in the belief that, while most of the population spoke English, Sinn Féiners always spoke Irish to each other.
A reading of the above accounts will deepen the reader’s understanding of the British side of the campaign. These stories offer a unique view of some well-known events and fresh insights into famous individuals involved in the conflict, from Lieutenant General Percival to Michael Collins. The only shame is that these accounts have remained in archives, unavailable in their entirety to the general reader for so long. My hope is that this book will restore some balance to the narrative of the war, and that it will provide a valuable resource to all students – both formal and informal – of the War of Independence.
CHAPTER ONE
Private J.P. Swindlehurst
Details
This chapter comes from a diary in the possession of the Imperial Museum in London, containing an account of Private J.P. Swindlehurst’s service with the 2nd Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers in India from November 1919 to December 1920, and with the 1st Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers. While in India, he took part in the suppression of riots between Muslims and Hindus in Amritsar in October 1920. On his return to the United Kingdom, he was transferred to the 1st Battalion, and sent to Dublin. What follows is an account of his time there, including his views on Ireland, the IRA and military service in Dublin.
Diary
7 January
12 Noon
WE HAVE JUST been told the most welcome news, I don’t think, we are entraining for Ireland at six o’clock tonight. You should see the faces, it’s a wonder we don’t step on them, they are so long. I don’t know whether to post this on home or wait until I arrive in Dublin, there might be something of interest to record, especially if the Sinn Féiners start to be funny. We have a rumour going the rounds, that the favourite joke of the Irishmen, is get you to stand a bottle of Guinness, drink your health, and then crash you on the head with the empty bottle. We now know what the rifles and the other warlike equipment which have been issued, are for.
7.30pm Crewe
We entrained earlier than expected and at the moment we are stood in Crewe Station with all the doors locked, and an army of ‘Red Caps’ patrolling the platforms; but three lads have just done a dash and got clean away, good luck to them.
12.45am Midnight
Holyhead looks a desolate place at this time of the morning. We are just about to board two fast steamers bound for Dublin, after a flying train ride through the night. None of us had a chance to get out through the windows, we seem to have flashed through stations as if there was a war on and the enemy was winning. The wind blows chill, a blanket would come in useful just now.
3am
I have just extracted myself out of a heap of lads curled up round a ventilator to try and keep out the biting wind, and icy cold spray. This boat is doing a move and no mistake, I can just make out sparks flying out of the funnel of our other ship, it looks like a race, at the moment it is a dead heat. It’s warmer walking about.
8 January, Dublin
We arrived at Arrans Quay on the Liffey at 9 this morning. All Dublin seemed to be out en fźte to see us arrive, I bet they got a shock, we looked and felt terrible, cold, hungry and fed up to the teeth. StewedBully and dried bread didn’t improve our spirits, but the tea has been better. The CO of the 1st Bn. of the Lancashire Fusiliers gave us a welcome, told us what we had come for, and said we would all feel better when we had had a good sleep and a general clean up, he never said a truer word. We have come over here to finish our time, doing guards, curfew patrols, street patrols, and heaven knows what else. Ship Street Barracks, Great Dame Street is the new address, and it’s raining, what a life.
The men stationed here regaled our ears with some lurid things that take place daily. The Black and Tans seem to do a lot of bloodthirsty deeds, but the Sinn Féiners don’t seem far behind. I thought of chucking this, it might not be possible to get time to write any experiences, but I’ll see later. On the backs down is the best place just now, Gilby at the moment has started to drive the pigs home so I’m going to do the same.
9 January
Gilby and I have just arrived back from the city. After we had cleaned up etc., passed the doctor, had a lecture at the same time, that the ‘Colleens’ are likely to put in our way and a hundred and one little formalities to go through, not forgetting the tin hat, to stop the empty bottles of ‘Guinness’, we were given a pass out until 9.30. The time is now 8.45, we thought it better to get back, after what happened to us. We were along Sackville Street admiring some ‘civvy boots’, when someone came up behind us and told us to ‘stick your hands up’ at the same time we both felt two hard things sticking into our backs. The voice spoke Irish all right, but we never saw a face, we were told look to the front and answer politely, and no harm would come. It seemed to be a long while before he finished questioning us, of all the questions, were we married? – where had we come from? – How long were we going to be here? – and I don’t know what else. To say we were alarmedis putting it mildly, there seemed to be a general hold-up around us, all seemed to become very quiet. Our pockets were taffed from behind and after explaining what the contents were, the voice said ‘Away wid yez Tommy down the road a bit, and you don’t look back at all, now go’, we didn’t stop it would have been foolish to look back, so we made our way back to barracks. We have since heard, that a Sergeant out of the 1st Batt has been brought in shot in the stomach, he showed fight, silly chap, its no use when the odds are against you, I felt the situation keenly at the time, but what’s the use. We must have given the Sinn Féin element something to think about, it appears quite a lot of us have been held up in different parts of the city. Dublin seems to be on our first acquaintance a rotten place to be in, people hurry along the streets, armoured cars dash up and down, bristling with machine guns. We have two extremely fast cars with Rolls Royce engines, we had a talk to the drivers this morning, and were told they are kept in readiness to catch the elusive Michael Collins when news of his whereabouts comes to hand. He must be famous, £500 is being offered dead or alive for his capture, but all the Black and Tans (who by the way seem to be all the out of work demobbed officers and men who can’t settle down) and CID men from Scotland Yard, can’t get hold of him. The men who style themselves as Black and Tans walk about like miniature arsenals, a brace of revolvers on each hip, bandoliers of ammunition slung around, and a short musket to finish off the ensemble. They dash about in cars with wire-netting covers at all hours of the day and night, bent on some raid, reprisal, or the capture of some Sinn Féiners. The wire-netting on the cars is to prevent bombs being thrown in amongst the occupant, an occurrence which seems to have been frequently done quite recently. The CO has a few words about being on active service, and being liable to be called out at any moment – what a coincidence, a sergeant has just been round and collared twenty men to hold up the centre of Dublin, along with a lot more, six lorries, with twenty men in each are just about to leave, Gilby has clicked. I have been detailedto mount guard at the City Hall for 48 hours at 12 noon tomorrow, so I must finish off for tonight, things are happening sooner than we expected.
12 January
The time is six in the evening, we have just had tea, the first guard is over. I feel a
bit tired, it will be nice to undress and sleep right through till morning. How time drags, we do two hours on and four off, it feels the other way about, you hardly seem to have closed your eyes when it’s time to go on again. It’s a fine big building we have been in, but badly knocked about, bullet marks all over the place, rooms ransacked, mirrors and furniture smashed to bits. The central hall has a statue of Parnell taking up a prominent place in the centre, some of the attackers or defenders, I don’t know which, appear to have bled rather profusely around it, the marble base and floor was badly bloodstained. The Sergeant in charge told us seven men were shot down near Parnell’s statue, so things have been bad about ten days ago. The first night passed quietly, just a few distant shots to be heard, all the city goes still at curfew which is ten o’clock. Once we heard hurrying footsteps dodging the curfew lorries, but little else happened. Not so last night, opposite our place is the newspaper office of the Dublin Times .At about two o’clock when the presses were going full speed ahead with the morning news, two open cars drew up, and out jumped a dozen Sinn Féiners who began to shoot the place up. In about two minutes all the windows had gone, we overlooked them and could see the workmen hiding behind the machines, out of the way of flying bullets. The place is only five minutes from barracks, and the noise of the firing brought a party of Black and Tans on the scene, the result of the fight was two killed and three wounded, one Sinn Féiner deceased and two wounded, the rest were Black and Tans. We had them laid out in our place whilst the ambulances came and cleared them to mortuary and hospital respectively. The wounded Sinn Féiners came in for a lot ofquestioning from the CID, they were only young men, but typically Irish. The ‘Virgin Mary’ stood witness ten thousand times to the truthfulness of the answer, no amount of threats to shoot them brought any further news to what the CID men wanted, so they carted them off. I have since thought if we hadn’t been there, that the Black and Tans would have done them in, they seemed very bitter, especially since one of their confederates lay stiffening on the floor. It does seem awful that there are men who will stoop to such dastardly actions as taking their own countrymen out of their beds at dead of night, and shoot them down out of hand, just because they have a different view to theirs, on how the country should be governed. The rest of the day until we were relieved passed peacefully enough, hundreds of sightseers came to look at the shattered windows. But the police took charge and kept the crowds moving, and life goes on as if nothing happened, although one can sense the undercurrent of alarm and anxiety in most of the faces of the passers-by. The constant shootings, hold-ups and raids are leaving their marks, one can tell by the earnest whispered conversations, the darting furtive glances, and the ever on the alert look, that many don’t know what will happen next. We were on the main street when a lorry backfired, and instinctively people dodged into doorways, some stood still, but it just shows, that the greater part of the population are living in a reign of terror. If their sympathies are with the Sinn Féiners the moment may come when the Black and Tans appear and take them off for a grilling or worse. On the other hand their own countrymen may come and extract vengeance for a lack of sympathy to their cause. Even if they are strictly neutral and are content to let things alone, they may be shot down at any moment by a stray bullet from rival factions whenever they meet. Taken on the whole Dublin is the last place on earth where I would like to live if I had a choice, but then I aren’t Irish, that accounts for a lot.
British Voices Page 1