CHAPTER XVIII.THE BARRACK ATTACKS
Our new plan for more active operations against the British was, in short, to attack them in their strongholds—the police barracks throughout the country. The peelers were now far too cautious to patrol the roads. They seldom if ever ventured any distance from their barracks. We could not meet them in the open. But if the mountain would not come to Mohammed, there was only the other thing to be done. We had got to go to the police and attack them on their own grounds.
At this time, in the spring of 1920, they were rapidly evacuating all outlying barracks in small places where there was a danger that the garrison could be cut off or surprised. They were concentrating on the larger barracks where the garrisons were strengthened and the buildings strongly fortified with steel shutters and barbed wire entanglements. It was at this time that the I.R.A. carried out its most intensive simultaneous series of operations. In one night no less than about athousand vacated police barracks were burned to the ground—the operations extending to every county in Ireland. In this way we prevented any possibility that those barracks would ever again be occupied by the enemy. A thousand links of the British military chain had been severed.
At this time the peelers had abandoned all pretence of being a police force. They were openly and avowedly a military force not attempting to suppress crime but holding the country by brute force for England. When the R.I.C. uniforms disappeared from a village our I.R.A. police promptly took over the duties that they should have discharged, and right well they did it. The robber and the housebreaker soon learned to have for the I.R.A. a wholesome respect he never had for the R.I.C.
If any reader unacquainted with events in Ireland at that time thinks it incredible that a police force like the R.I.C. should have been so shameless as to allow criminals a free hand I hope I shall convince him by two simple facts. The first is that in cases where our men were found to have arrested men for robbery or other forms of crime, the practice of the British was to have the criminal released and protected and to have the I.R.A. men sent to jail. The newspaper files with accounts of courts-martial on our men on such charges bear out my statement. The second fact, though never revealed in thenewspapers, did not come under my personal notice, but I have it from I.R.A. men concerned. In County Meath a most cold-blooded murder was committed by an ex-British soldier. The R.I.C. had clear evidence that he was guilty. They arrested him, but did they try him? No! They released him and advised him to leave the country before he fell into the hands of the I.R.A. But he was arrested by the I.R.A. men within five minutes of his release, and later paid the penalty of his crime.
At this time too the Black and Tans appeared on the scene. A great many are still in doubt as to how they got this name, so it is as well to explain.
The force was recruited by Sir Hamar Greenwood’s instructions early in 1920 to swell the ranks of the R.I.C. and to replace the Irishmen who had resigned from that force in disgust. Greenwood wanted thousands of recruits for carrying out the policy of terrorism which had been decided upon. He could not get them in Ireland. Even in England he found it hard to get any decent men to come on such work. Hence his force was recruited mainly from the lower classes of English ex-soldiers, many of them being known criminals or ex-convicts. They arrived in Ireland in such numbers that the R.I.C. could not possibly equip half of them in the recognised dark blue uniform. There were some black tunics to be had and some black trousers, also some black caps. The military came to their assistancewith a supply of khaki. Every man was given some portion of the black uniform to show he was nominally a policeman, but the main portion of the outfit was khaki. When these irregular forces first took up duty in the South you can imagine their grotesque appearance—one man being all in khaki except for a black cap, another all in khaki except for black trousers, and so on, none of them being either completely in black or completely in khaki.
Our Irish people have a sense of humour, and they have always been noted for their happy knack of giving appropriate nick-names. In the district which surrounds Knocklong—South Tipperary and East Limerick the nameBlack and Tanwas born. For generations there had been in that district a famous pack of hounds known as the “Black and Tans.” Is it surprising that the people soon saw how like the new force was to their hounds, not only in colour but in other respects? Such is the origin of a name that will survive in all languages for terrorism, loot and murder.
These changes to which I have referred had taken place in our native county during our absence. We decided at once to open a series of attacks on police barracks.
Attacks on police barracks had been going on in various parts of the South on a small scale for months. The first case in which the garrison was captured was at Araglen, on the borders of Corkand Limerick, near the southern end of the Galtees. The attack was carried out by Liam Lynch, who was killed during the Civil War early in 1923, while he was Chief of Staff of the I.R.A.
Liam Lynch, as the struggle developed in intensity proved himself the finest officer in Ireland to control and handle a brigade or division. He and Sean Moylan made an admirable combination and their successes against the British were amazing. Tom Barry was, I think, the best leader of a flying column.
I first met Liam Lynch at the Autumn of 1919. We were introduced by Tom Hunter, then Republican Deputy for Cork and Peadar Clancy’s partner in business in Dublin. Lynch was at that time very much on the run, like myself. On September 7th, he had carried out a daring coup in Fermoy, disarming twelve soldiers who were going to church. In the struggle one of the British soldiers was killed and Liam himself was wounded. That incident is of historic importance by reason of the fact that it led to the first case of “reprisals”; for the night of the attack the British soldiers, led by some of their officers, wrecked and looted the principal shops in Fermoy.
Liam Lynch was a soldier to his finger tips. He stood six feet in height and in his eye you read that he was born to be a leader of men. As gentle as a child he was a dauntless soldier, and commandedone of the best brigades in Ireland against the British.
Shortly after the capture of Araglen Barracks by Liam Lynch, the next victory of the kind was gained by Michael Brennan, who seized all the arms and ammunition in a barrack in Clare. In this case the barrack was surrendered by Constable Buckley, who afterwards fought with the I.R.A. through the war, and was killed in Kerry while a prisoner during the Civil War. The next barracks that was captured by the I.R.A. was Ballylanders on the 28th April, 1920, when three policemen were wounded and the barrack burned to the ground after the garrison had surrendered their arms to Sean Malone (alias“Forde”), who commanded in the attack.
On our return to Tipperary we very soon carried out three attacks on police barracks, one of which surrendered to us after a five hours’ fight.
The first barrack in Tipperary to surrender to the I.R.A. was Drangan. That was on June 4th, 1920. Drangan is situated in the eastern end of the county, near the Kilkenny side. It is seven miles from Killenaule.
Our usual procedure in these attacks—which always took place at night—was to mobilise 30 or 40 I.R.A. men, and have trees felled across all the roads leading to the position. In that way we prevented, or at least delayed, assistance from arriving to help the besieged garrison. This blockingof the roads was carried out often for a five or ten mile radius. Often, too, we felled trees across the roads when we had no intention of attacking a position—merely to annoy and confuse the enemy.
Having taken these precautions to ensure that no assistance could arrive to the garrison we also cut the telegraph and telephone wires. Then we quietly occupied a few houses in the front or rear of the barracks and opened our attack, while some of our men perhaps attempted to fire the building by means of petrol. Very often too the first hint we gave of our presence was the exploding of a mine at the door or the gable of the barrack in order to blow up the building or to make a breach. Sometimes these plans succeeded, sometimes they failed.
The fight at Drangan was a prolonged affair. The officers who took part in the attack were Sean Treacy, Seumas Robinson, Ernie O’Malley, Sean Hogan and myself. Having first taken the usual steps of blocking the roads and cutting all wires, we quietly occupied a vacant house right in front of the barrack—why the police were so stupid as to leave it unguarded I cannot imagine. More of our men went to the back and took up positions for opening fire, while on the street in front we erected a small barricade. About midnight we opened the attack. After the first volley we ceased fire, and called on the defenders to surrender. We always did that, not only to spare their lives if possible, butalso to spare our own supplies of ammunition which were never plentiful. But they refused to come out. We renewed the attack, with rifles, bombs, revolvers and shot-guns—our munitions were always necessarily of an assorted kind. The enemy replied hotly to our fire, but with no effect. Suddenly the sky was lighted up with Verey lights—rockets discharged by the garrison as a signal to neighbouring posts that they needed help. But we knew it would be long before assistance could pass our barriers. We continued the onslaught with renewed vigour from front and rear, and some of our men actually tore off the slates on the roof of the barrack. Daylight was breaking amidst cracking of rifles and the bursting of bombs when there was a sudden lull in the replying fire from the enemy. A moment later appeared from one of the windows a sharp blast of a whistle, and our men ceased fire. The order was shouted to the garrison to advance into the open. A minute later they were disarmed prisoners. We prepared for our return to safety before military reinforcements cut their way through. We marched our prisoners—two sergeants and six constables—to the outskirts of the village, released them and departed with our booty, not one of our men being wounded.
The same night Cappawhite police barrack, also in Tipperary, was attacked by another party of I.R.A. men, but the garrison held their own.
It was sometimes amusing to read the accounts of these attacks in the newspapers next day. Naturally none of our men ever told the true story, and the newspaper men had to rely mainly on the police version. The police, of course, had to make the best show possible in the eyes of their own superiors, and the newspaper men had to take their version, because they would need the information that friendly policemen could give them later on, and also because they might get a surprise midnight visit from the Black and Tan torturers if anything derogatory to the police was said. Hence it was that often when we had only 30 or 40 men on a job, with perhaps half a dozen rifles in all, the police would tell the public that the “number of attackers was estimated at 300, with several machine guns.” And often when not one of our men got a scratch it was reported that “several of the attackers were seen to fall, and it is believed three were shot dead.” There were times when we did suffer losses, but they never suspected it.
Our next operation of the kind was away on the north-western side of the county in the mountainous districts of Hollyford. This also was a complete success, the same body of us being in charge of the operation. It must be remembered that at this time the number of men on the run was comparatively small, and we often had to rely upon men who were never suspected of taking part in theseattacks, and who returned to their work before morning.
Our next attack was not far from the same district—Rear Cross. Here we had a desperate battle, and were forced to retire without capturing the position. In this fight we had the assistance of some men from East Limerick Brigade, and the North Tipperary Brigade, but the South Tipperary boys carried out the main offensive under Sean Treacy and myself. The garrison, I must say, put up a brave defence, and used their hand-grenades with effect, Ernie O’Malley, Jim Gorman, Treacy and myself all being wounded by shrapnel. We succeeded in setting the building on fire, and I believe that several of the enemy were burned to death, while two others were shot.
It was about this time—to be exact, on the night of May 27th—that the famous Kilmallock attack took place. I was not engaged on the occasion. This attack, carried out by Sean Malone (alias“Forde”) created a big sensation at the time. It was a prolonged battle lasting from midnight until 7 o’clock in the morning. The barrack, which was regarded as being impregnable, was situated in the very heart of the town, and was occupied by one of the largest R.I.C. garrisons in the south. The I.R.A. occupied a hotel and several houses on the principal street, and actually pumped petrol from a hose on to the building. The barrack was burnedto the ground, but our men had to cease the attack before the garrison was forced to surrender. One I.R.A. officer—Scully, of Kerry—was killed, two of the enemy were killed, and six of them wounded. The two policemen were burned to death in a room where they had been locked because they advised a surrender. The sergeant who commanded the garrison was promoted to the rank of District Inspector for his defence. He was shot dead in Listowel a few months later.
The next big engagement in which we took part was the famous fight at Oola, the day Brigadier-General Lucas escaped. This sensational incident I must relate in the next chapter.