Tom Barry (20 page)

Having returned from a brigade council meeting Tom went to bed, but being worried about the safety of the flying column; he rose shortly afterwards to check the sentries and have a general look around. In addition to sentries, he had always taken the precaution of protecting the flying column against surprise attacks by having an outer ring of scouts drawn from the local company. Those scouts were armed with revolvers borrowed from the flying column to fire warning shots in the event of being unable to slip back to the billets to report approaching enemies.

On this particular night Tom, having visited the sentries, went to inspect this outer ring of scouts. Pat O'Driscoll was relieving another man as Tom approached. To ensure that Pat knew his full responsibilities he asked the man to detail his duties for the relief scout. Tom was close to both as they stood about a foot apart facing each other and the scout described his duties. About halfway through his description a shot rang out and Pat swayed. Tom grabbed him and lowered him gently to the ground. He was dead.

Tom turned to the man who dropped his Webley revolver, horrified at having shot his best friend. When Tom spoke he didn't answer but gave a moan and collapsed. Apparently, as Tom was speaking, he had been unconsciously fingering the trigger of his revolver and had unknowingly pressed the very light spring-trigger. This was an incident Tom was to remember all his life with sadness as he felt it was the man's nervousness in his presence that had caused the accident.
[29]

There were only two other fatal accidents with firearms in the West Cork flying column. Captain Jeremiah O'Mahony, who had fought at Kilmichael, was one night cleaning his rifle in December 1920 at home when it went off and shot him. Timothy Whooley died under similar circumstances and Johnny O'Brien of Clounbuig escaped with a grazed head in an earlier incident.

By early March 1921, enemy intimidation presented a problem for the flying column. Tom, accompanied by Mick Crowley and two other rifle-men, went to Castletown-Kenneigh on brigade business. At Nyhan's they were informed that on that morning a Dunmanway Auxiliary Company had occupied the village of Ballineen in force, rounded up all the men and formed them into what they called ‘Civil Guard'. They instructed them to report on IRA movements and fill in IRA-made road-trenches. With an Auxiliary escort and under threat of death they were forced to work.

Instantly, Barry decided that this move of using civilians against Irishmen had to be cracked. With a few men he went to a small hill about 400 yards from the road; down below they saw about two dozen civilians with shovels filling in a deep trench. Their escort lay in positions behind the adjoining fence and all that could be seen were their berets and the barrels of their rifles. Barry instructed his companions to spatter the ground with shots but not to kill anyone. The Auxiliaries replied and the new ‘Civil Guard' scattered. When a few days later the Auxiliaries tried to round up more men for their operation, they were told they would prefer to be killed by the Auxiliaries than by the IRA. So that trick by the forces wasn't tried again.

In all cases civilians were not to be inconvenienced Barry decided. Alternative roads suitable for the horse and cart, transport for the ordinary people, but not suitable for army lorries were to be mapped out.

At a special council meeting of the Anti Sinn Féin Society held in Cork on 5 December 1920, ‘it was proposed and passed' that in Bandon where ‘crown forces may be molested' that Sinn Féin and IRA ‘whether leaders or not three persons will be taken and shot', immediately ‘after which the chapel bell will toll'.

Further ‘it was decided that the houses and property of these people should be burned and their families taken and detained'. To this end notices were posted in Bandon. ‘Remember Irishmen … internment camps are ready for all suspicious persons … the safest thing for you to do is to take your hands out of your pockets if you have them in, or you are liable to be shot on sight.' The notice ended, ‘God Save the King. God Save Ireland – Members of the crown forces'.
[30]

Barry, in
Guerilla Days
, describes the 2–4 February 1921 as ‘The Twelve Dark Days' because during that period 11 officers and IRA men were killed. Some, like the two Coffey brothers, were killed in their beds. Two masked civilians, one of them a woman known as ‘Foxy Bess', had led the killers directly to the room where the young men slept. The killers were members of the British Action espionage circle, known also as The Protestant Action Group.

Paddy Crowley, a battalion commandant, was ill in bed at O'Neill's, Maryborough. Essex men raided the house. Unable to hide, he ran, was wounded, then fell and they shot him where he lay. Barry said that not one of their enemy had been killed during that period. ‘The morale of our units was bound to suffer if fatal casualties continued, with none being inflicted on the enemy'. Hundreds of young men, within a radius of twenty miles around Bandon were arrested. All reported being beaten and tortured, some were hoisted as ‘stool pigeons' in military lorries that travelled the countryside on raids. Many men not involved in the IRA were jailed.
[31]

‘Drumhead court-martials for dealing with rebels caught with arms in their hands' were set up, according to General Percival'. Penalties for harbouring rebels, or for failing to report ambushes, etc., or for giving the wrong name' were enforced.
[32]

‘Under propaganda auspices a weekly incentive to “murder” indiscriminately was issued to the police in the form of a weekly summary printed and published by the government', General Crozier records, ‘while instructions to “murder and ask questions after” were issued secretly to selected police officers from Dublin Castle.' The district county inspector's ‘weekly summary' contained statistics, details of spies, casualties, burnings, killing – from a propaganda viewpoint. The ‘stamping out of terrorism by murder' was instituted.
[33]

For the future Barry decided he would not show mercy to the Bandon Essex Regiment under Percival as they continued to torture, wound and kill defenceless IRA prisoners. They lacked mercy to the sick, the unarmed, and created havoc when raiding homes and burned many. ‘They had killed in us too the virtue for mercy … Orders issued by me in 1921 were to shoot every member of the Essex at sight, armed or unarmed, and not to accept their surrender under any circumstances. We had tried to play the game of war by the rules accepted by the civilised world', but now immunity had come to an end. In other areas the rules of war were to be observed, mercy would be shown, but not in Bandon.
[34]

Barry quotes Napoleon as having allegedly said, ‘There are two levers for moving men: interest and fear'; but he himself added a third, counter-terror. ‘The Essex, the Auxiliaries and all British terrorist forces would be destroyed as far as our strength was capable of killing them', he wrote.
[35]

Barry decided to have another go at the Bandon stronghold. A 44 strong column was mustered on 23 February for another attack on a curfew patrol. The men carried rifles and pistols and wore their new uniforms – a khaki-type coat with a cape at the back. As usual Barry had them detailed and divided into sections for their approach to the town. At 8.20 p.m. they reached their chosen place of attack. ‘Accurate timing was essential'. Barry, as column commander believed it was imperative that the decision when to attack rested with him. He went forward alone, clearly visible under a full moon, clad in uniform, leggings and full field equipment. Mick Crowley followed a distance behind with a section, they crossed the bridge at the end of the town where the section stopped. Barry went up South Main Street and met an IRA sympathiser who told him that the patrol was coming. Barry hastened back towards the scout to signal the column to advance.

But as he made his way back, the sound of marching feet and English voices brought him to an abrupt halt. His first reaction was to run. He said it is amazing how quickly things run through your head when confronted with a situation, how quickly you think and dismiss thoughts. He was sure that it was the end. There was no escape. Should he make a run for it? ‘No. My reason flashed the warning that if I turned and ran I would be shot in the back. I stood my ground as five military rounded the North Main Street corner and advanced across the bridge towards me.'

The gunfight commenced. Facing the enemy Barry opened fire with revolver in one hand and an automatic in the other. Mick Crowley, whom he had posted at the north end of the bridge, joined in. The Tan swinging his revolver as he came into view was the first to fall. A second staggered across the road and then fell. Barry missed the third as he sprang to the other side of the road, but Crowley got him. The fourth man had bolted back to the barracks at the sound of the first shot and the fifth had dropped to the ground, as a trained soldier will when under fire. Now he leaped up, sprang round the corner escaping the first shot aimed at him. Barry in a fury ran after him brandishing his guns but didn't fire, because, as he says, ‘I was mad. I just wanted to get my hands on him'. Confronting, in a close range situation, Constable Perrier, a known spy in the dreaded Essex Regiment whom they had been watching, made him lose his temper. Perrier had made attempts to join the IRA under the guise of a deserter. ‘I was guilty of the most senseless act of my life, for I ran after him,' Barry admitted. (A man who was so disciplined and so insistent on discipline could view this action as a reckless act. On reflection later, he was critical of this action, as he said it was an irrational act and he recorded that Perrier could have turned around and shot him.)

Still running, Barry slipped his revolver into his pocket to free his left hand: he retained the colt automatic in his right hand. The panic-stricken soldier ran into an open doorway. As he cleared the small counter Barry vaulted after him, grabbing him by the shoulder. He shook him and shot him twice at point-blank range.
[36]

‘Are you all right in there,' shouted Tom Kelleher, who had followed him. Kelleher remained at the door in case more British military should come along.

‘I got the bloody fellow,' Barry said, as he emerged.

‘Why didn't you fire on him going in?'

‘I wanted to shake the bastard first.'

Unperturbed Barry began to check his gun and reload it.

‘You would think the British were a hundred miles away,' Tom Kelleher recalled.

Barry shook himself, straightened his shoulders: ‘a spy. Bastard! Pretending he was in sympathy with us.'
[37]

He bolted down the street to meet the remainder of the column who were dealing with the other patrol. As Kelleher and Barry ran, bullets were knocking sparks off the flagstones behind them. But as Jim Kearney says, ‘There was never a bullet made to shoot Barry.'
[38]

Notes