1972 (14 page)
Authors: Morgan Llywelyn
“By your names I assume you are sisters?” Barry asked.
Pearl laughed. “Nossir, but we're cousins. I got a sister named Sapphire and another one named Topaz, and Opal has a brother named Garnet. In our fambly we like to start the young'uns out with riches.” She laughed again, flashing the gold tooth.
“We don't see many Negroes in Ireland, so I don't know much about your customs.” Barry stopped, unsure what to say next.
“And you're curious,” Pearl guessed. “Course you are. It's all right. I'm a curious-type woman myself. What you want to know?”
“I guess, well, do you have a good life here?”
Do you hate having to drink out of a special water fountain?
Do you hate having to drink out of a special water fountain?
“Our lives be just fine,” Pearl assured him. “Miz Ella and Mist' Henry was always good to us.”
“And Mrs. Kavanagh?”
The two women exchanged a veiled glance. “She all right,” Opal said cautiously. “Once you get to know her.”
“I've known her a long time,” Pearl said. “Miz Ella brought an Irish housekeeper with her when she came to Dallas, a real nice white woman, but she died of the polio when Miss Isabella was in her teens. That's when Miz Ella hired me to help look
after the girls. Miss Hank took to me right away but Miss Isabella never did. I reckon I was too different.”
after the girls. Miss Hank took to me right away but Miss Isabella never did. I reckon I was too different.”
“An outsider?” Barry suggested.
Pearl was indignant. “I was born just'round the corner on Grigsby Street!”
“So Negro families live in this neighbourhood too?”
“Yessir. Some. They's houses what have servants' quarters at the back for our people.”
“And you're happy to live like that?”
“It's what we have,” Opal said philosophically.
“But change is comin',” Pearl added. “It most surely is comin'. The Supreme Court done ruled that it's illegal to make us sit at the back of the bus, and a Baptist preacher called Dr. King's startin' a group to fight for our civil rights.”
Later that evening, when the two women were alone in the kitchen washing the dinner dishes, Barry heard them singing a powerful Negro spiritual filled with hope and joy.
T
HAT night a storm blew across east Texas. Sometime after midnight Barry was awakened by the perfume of rain. He went to the open window and stood greedily inhaling.
HAT night a storm blew across east Texas. Sometime after midnight Barry was awakened by the perfume of rain. He went to the open window and stood greedily inhaling.
America was dynamic and exciting. But he was swept by an almost unbearable longing for the silky air of Ireland and that quiet circle of earth and trees on the west bank of the Shannon.
Ursula's right, It's time to go home.
The patter of raindrops sounded like applause.
B
EFORE they left, Ursula asked Barry to take a photograph of herself and Henry's daughters together. “We three,” she said.
EFORE they left, Ursula asked Barry to take a photograph of herself and Henry's daughters together. “We three,” she said.
“Henry's girls,” Hank added. Isabella shot her an angry glance but said nothing.
At the last moment Barbara ran, uninvited, to stand in front of the women. She stuck out her tongue at Barry as he clicked the shutter.
U
RSULA bought a photograph album for the pictures taken in Texas. To add to them she turned her camera on family and friends, only to find that she had no gift for photographing people. She caught her subjects in awkward positions or, worse yet, cut off their heads or feet.
RSULA bought a photograph album for the pictures taken in Texas. To add to them she turned her camera on family and friends, only to find that she had no gift for photographing people. She caught her subjects in awkward positions or, worse yet, cut off their heads or feet.
“There must be some secret to this that I don't understand,” she complained to Barry. “You're better at it. I want you to take the camera and give me some nice pictures of Eileen and the Ryan brothers. Portraits, you know?”
He knew. Like Ned and SÃle's.
Ursula was so pleased with the results that she bought a little pot of blue enamel and wrote “Barry's Photographs” on the cover of the album. It was kept prominently displayed in the parlour. From time to time Barry riffled through the pages, always surprised by the ability of a photograph to summon up a mood or a memory.
His favourite was the picture of Ursula with Hank and Isabella. Ursula, thin and tired but projecting the indomitable quality he knew so well. Hank wearing a warm, unselfconscious smile; the face of an honest woman. Rigidly posed Isabella, holding her head at a studied angle.
And Barbara Kavanagh, arrogantly thrusting herself into the centre.
A
s the autumn of 1957 passed into winter, the republican movement began to recover. The IRA reopened operations in the north. The opportunity for a devastating strike followed by swift capitulation on the part of the British had been lost, if it ever existed. There remained only the slow, dogged process of guerrilla warfare. Ambush, sabotage, and subversion. Blow up bridges and railways. Cut communications. Undermine morale.
s the autumn of 1957 passed into winter, the republican movement began to recover. The IRA reopened operations in the north. The opportunity for a devastating strike followed by swift capitulation on the part of the British had been lost, if it ever existed. There remained only the slow, dogged process of guerrilla warfare. Ambush, sabotage, and subversion. Blow up bridges and railways. Cut communications. Undermine morale.
Early in 1958, Barry began receiving assignments hidden in the pages of the
United Irishman.
That spring he was often away from the farm. Although he went about his business with an air of nonchalance when others were watching, every time he put a bomb together his mouth went dry and he had butterflies in his stomach.
United Irishman.
That spring he was often away from the farm. Although he went about his business with an air of nonchalance when others were watching, every time he put a bomb together his mouth went dry and he had butterflies in his stomach.
The thrill of danger was addictive.
While Barry was away on one of his assignments, listeners to an RTE broadcast were informed, “There are over five thousand drive-in movie theatres in the United States.”
“What in the name of all the saints is a drive-in movie theatre?” one of Eileen's friends wondered as the two women were gossiping over cups of tea.
“An Occasion of Sin,” Eileen retorted.
N
INETEEN fifty-eight saw the naming of a new pope and a new era in the history of the Roman Catholic Church. Fresh thinking and an openness to change were the watchwords of John Paul XXIII. When he convoked the second Vatican Council, he demonstrated an unprecedented willingness to make the ancient institution relevant to the modern world. No condemnations were to be issued from the pulpit; political hostilities were to be ignored; the Church must realise it was the servant and not the master.
INETEEN fifty-eight saw the naming of a new pope and a new era in the history of the Roman Catholic Church. Fresh thinking and an openness to change were the watchwords of John Paul XXIII. When he convoked the second Vatican Council, he demonstrated an unprecedented willingness to make the ancient institution relevant to the modern world. No condemnations were to be issued from the pulpit; political hostilities were to be ignored; the Church must realise it was the servant and not the master.
I
N the wake of the aborted border campaign the RUC had eliminated most of the republican safe houses in the Six Counties. Volunteers on active service relied on dugouts in isolated areas, where they slept on branches on the damp ground and ate inadequately if at all. If they were lucky, the constantly searching RUC did not discover them ⦠though one dugout was destroyed when a cow fell through the roof.
N the wake of the aborted border campaign the RUC had eliminated most of the republican safe houses in the Six Counties. Volunteers on active service relied on dugouts in isolated areas, where they slept on branches on the damp ground and ate inadequately if at all. If they were lucky, the constantly searching RUC did not discover them ⦠though one dugout was destroyed when a cow fell through the roof.
The IRA had a few successes. A Catholic family with nine children was rescued by Volunteers after loyalists set fire to their cottage in County Tyrone. An RUC sergeant was killed by a booby trap in County Tyrone. Another died during an attack at Carrickbroad.
But there were also some spectacular failures. Four Volunteers
were trying to put together a mine in a farmhouse at Edentubber when the gelignite exploded prematurely. The house was blown apart. All the Volunteers as well as the owner of the house died in the blast. It was the largest loss the IRA had suffered since the end of the Civil Warâexcluding the republicans who had been executed afterwards by the Free State government.
were trying to put together a mine in a farmhouse at Edentubber when the gelignite exploded prematurely. The house was blown apart. All the Volunteers as well as the owner of the house died in the blast. It was the largest loss the IRA had suffered since the end of the Civil Warâexcluding the republicans who had been executed afterwards by the Free State government.
On the day of the Edentubber explosion the Army Convention was being held in a safe house in Dublin. The house was too small to hold more than the Army Council and voting delegates. News of the disaster intensified their determination to make sure that no republican lives were lost in vain. It was decided to step up the fund-raising campaign among Irish Americans. Contributions from organisations such as the Red Branch Knights of San Francisco soon enabled the IRA to open more training camps in the south.
T
HE circulation of the
United Irishman
climbed toward 120,000âat home and abroad.
HE circulation of the
United Irishman
climbed toward 120,000âat home and abroad.
H
E was good. He was very, very good. A number of Volunteers had died in accidents with explosives, but Barry Halloran made no mistakes. Officers began notifying GHQ, “We want Halloran for this one.”
E was good. He was very, very good. A number of Volunteers had died in accidents with explosives, but Barry Halloran made no mistakes. Officers began notifying GHQ, “We want Halloran for this one.”
The Army obtained most of its gelignite through raids on quarries and construction sites in the Republic, giving strength to the government's claim that the IRA was a threat to the peace and security of the nation. When additional guards were hired, gelignite supplies slowed to a trickle.
Barry Halloran considered the shortage a challenge to his ingenuity. If one knew how, any number of everyday domestic materials could be used to make a bomb. Salt, newspaper, weed killer, sugar, commercial fertiliserâthe list was almost endless.
It's damned satisfying to be able to create something out of nothing.
It's damned satisfying to be able to create something out of nothing.
One of Barry's innovations was the self-igniting petrol bomb. Strips of newspaper were soaked in a sodium chloride solution and wrapped around a glass bottle. As the paper dried
it clung tightly to the bottle, which was filled three-quarters of the way with petrol. A small amount of sulphuric acid was added at the top. The “touch paper” did not ignite until the bottle hit something and broke. The bomb was much safer to throw than the notoriously volatile Molotov cocktail.
it clung tightly to the bottle, which was filled three-quarters of the way with petrol. A small amount of sulphuric acid was added at the top. The “touch paper” did not ignite until the bottle hit something and broke. The bomb was much safer to throw than the notoriously volatile Molotov cocktail.
I
N August a Sinn Féin organiser was shot and killed by the Royal Ulster Constabularyâwithin the borders of the Republic. In another land, in another time, this might have been taken as an act of war. But although Irish people were outraged, the Dublin government made no formal protest to Stormont.
N August a Sinn Féin organiser was shot and killed by the Royal Ulster Constabularyâwithin the borders of the Republic. In another land, in another time, this might have been taken as an act of war. But although Irish people were outraged, the Dublin government made no formal protest to Stormont.
B
ARRY Halloran had grown into the strength promised by his large frame. Physically he was a mass of contradictions. A rugged face with a gentle mouth. His lean yet muscular body moved with the easy grace of a man in total physical control. The shoulders were as broad as a rugby player's; the longfingered hands might have belonged to a pianist.
ARRY Halloran had grown into the strength promised by his large frame. Physically he was a mass of contradictions. A rugged face with a gentle mouth. His lean yet muscular body moved with the easy grace of a man in total physical control. The shoulders were as broad as a rugby player's; the longfingered hands might have belonged to a pianist.
Because his distinctive appearance might attract hostile attention, he taught himself the art of disguise. Much of his work was done under cover of darkness, so he learned to get by with little sleep. He was able to take short naps and wake up as refreshed as if he had been sleeping for hours.
He never shrank from a fistfight, that traditional testing ground of young manhood, and usually won. When not on active service he enjoyed downing a few pints in a pub, but it was a point of pride with him that no one ever saw him drunk. As for women, Barry attracted more than his share. He went only as far as a girl was willing and discouraged any talk of love. He did not want to run the risk of leaving a widow behind.
Men in a pack were capable of things that one alone could never do, and Army camaraderie was stronger than most family ties. But Barry deliberately kept an emotional distance from his fellow Volunteers. He did not reveal his inmost feelings to anyone, nor allow anyone to get close to him. He had learned his lesson with Feargal O'Hanlon. In the IRA death could come like a thief in the night.
Barry's sensitivity was a secret he shared with no one. If he felt more deeply than others, he showed it less.
He continued to pore over his grandfather's notebooks. In one of them Ned had written, “The IRA is sworn to restore the thirty-two-county Irish Republic, as proclaimed in 1916, to the people from whom it was so deceitfully taken. It is imperative that our own actions be morally justifiable.”
Barry committed that last sentence to memory.
The next time one of his fellow Volunteers questioned his insistence on giving a warning for his bombs, he said, “If we're fighting in an honourable cause, we have to act honourably ourselves.”
Soon the issuing of warnings became common practice.
I
N September, Dave O'Connell and Rory Brady, who had been the IRA chief-of-staff during the border campaign, broke out of the supposedly escape-proof Curragh prison camp.
N September, Dave O'Connell and Rory Brady, who had been the IRA chief-of-staff during the border campaign, broke out of the supposedly escape-proof Curragh prison camp.
L
ATE in October, Barry recognised Rory Brady coming out of a shoe shop in Mullingar. Physically strong, highly cultured, and known for having a well-developed social conscience, he had graduated from college and trained to be a teacher. But that was not all there was to him. When he was only twenty-one years old Rory Brady had led a dozen men into the depot of the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers in Berkshire, England, and stolen five tons of arms for the IRA.
1
The methods he used had become part of republican legend.
ATE in October, Barry recognised Rory Brady coming out of a shoe shop in Mullingar. Physically strong, highly cultured, and known for having a well-developed social conscience, he had graduated from college and trained to be a teacher. But that was not all there was to him. When he was only twenty-one years old Rory Brady had led a dozen men into the depot of the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers in Berkshire, England, and stolen five tons of arms for the IRA.
1
The methods he used had become part of republican legend.
Brady's squad had sneaked up on the two guards on duty before dawn, surprising one in the act of cooking sausages and the other of writing poetry. “Bad poetry,” Brady said later, with the authority of a man who appreciated good poetry. He then woke the other sixteen soldiers two at a time, made them strip below the waist, and lined them up with their fingertips pressed against the wall, their legs spread and their genitals exposed. No violence was needed; the men were all too aware of their vulnerability. They made no effort to stop the massive weapons theft.
According to rumour, Brady was now a member of the Army Council.
When he saw Barry looking at him he stared back for a long moment, then, with a nod of the head, indicated that they meet in the nearest laneway. Barry introduced himself; Brady gave his hand a hearty shake. “Of course! You were one of Seán Garland's men, were you not?”
“I was indeed.”
“Dave O'Connell speaks highly of you. What brings you to Mullingar, Barry?”
“Travelling. From here to there. You know.”
“I do indeed, I'm doing the same myself.”
Although Barry was somewhat in awe of Rory Brady, the other man's ready smile put him at ease. Over pints in the nearest pub Barry found himself talking more than he had in weeks. When he mentioned that he had chosen to remain in the Army rather than going to university, Brady's beetling eyebrows drew into a frown. “That's too bad, the Army needs educated men.”
“What use is a degree to a soldier?”
“Amongst other things, a third-level education teaches a man to think.”
“I can think already,” Barry retorted testily. Hoping to impress the other man, he led the conversation around to history, which was one area where he felt sure of his ground. “It's interesting to observe that in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries many Protestants were Irish nationalists. Not just Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone, but hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of others. There were even Presbyterian Fenians, because the Presbyterians were being persecuted by the English just as Catholics were.”
“It's ironic,” said Brady, “that the Presbyterians, who once were in the forefront of the struggle for Irish freedom, were so determined to remain in the United Kingdom in 1921 that they insisted on partition.”
“They seem happy enough with it now,” Barry said.
“Most of them are, because it's to their advantage. Your average northern Protestant is a pragmatist. Of course there are still some nationalists amongst them, but they don't dare stick their heads above the parapet.
“The unionists don't have things all their way, though. Partition
let them hold on to a piece of the United Kingdom, but that doesn't make them âBritish.' For the most part, their parents and grandparents and even great-grandparents were born in Ireland. If they go to London they expect to be welcomed with open arms, but instead people sneer at their accents and treat them like foreigners. As far as the English are concerned, they're Irish. Which proves that even the English get it right some of the time,” he added with a laugh.
let them hold on to a piece of the United Kingdom, but that doesn't make them âBritish.' For the most part, their parents and grandparents and even great-grandparents were born in Ireland. If they go to London they expect to be welcomed with open arms, but instead people sneer at their accents and treat them like foreigners. As far as the English are concerned, they're Irish. Which proves that even the English get it right some of the time,” he added with a laugh.
T
HE O/C of an IRA training camp in Tipperary sent for the Army's young explosives expert to teach his men how to build mines without blowing themselves up. After several days of intensive work Barry felt the need of some time off. He slung his pack over his shoulder and hitched a ride to Ballina.
HE O/C of an IRA training camp in Tipperary sent for the Army's young explosives expert to teach his men how to build mines without blowing themselves up. After several days of intensive work Barry felt the need of some time off. He slung his pack over his shoulder and hitched a ride to Ballina.
Séamus McCoy was the exception to his rule about having close friends. Their relationship pre-dated his conscious decision to be a lone wolf and could not be set aside.
When Barry entered the Ballina pub the air was blue with cigarette smoke. Six or seven men sat at the bar, solemnly discussing the affairs of the world or staring into their drinks. In one corner two elderly farmers were arguing over a game of draughts. A little spotted dog sat in the middle of the sawdust-strewn floor, diligently licking his private parts. From behind the bar a large mirror reflected the life of the place with cracked and discoloured irony. On the wall beside the mirror an old hammer hung from a frayed rope.
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