Tom Barry (23 page)

Newcomers to the scene brought No. 7 section into action. The British here had been on house raids and apparently were surprised by the sudden attack. When they found themselves in the midst of an ambush they fought for some time but then scattered. Forces had come from Kinsale, Cork, Dunmanway, Bandon and Macroom. Capt. Bill Powell, Crookstown Company, Cork No. 1 Brigade, had been arrested the previous week and was under guard and peeling potatoes in Macroom Castle kitchen, when panic hit the military. He heard shouts, ‘Ambush at Upton, retreating to Crookstown woods!' Within ‘ten minutes he heard lorries starting up and taking off'.
[21]

During a short lull Barry went around encouraging his men, because he knew there was more to come. Ten minutes later another 200 British arrived, bringing Tom Kelleher's section in the rear under attack. The British crept close to the ditch and expected to catch the rear of the column off guard. But Kelleher's men were waiting. They allowed the British military to come within 50 yards before opening fire and hitting a number of them. Hurriedly the remainder retired to cover from where they continued to fire. Immediately Barry sent Spud Murphy (arm in sling from previous injury) with 11 rifle-men to re-inforce Kelleher' section. There were now 26 officers and men facing this large British column. Barry, anticipating that the military contingent might try to outflank the position, extended his men northwards. The enemy met with such heavy fire that they were forced to retreat once more.

As other sections were not now in action, Barry moved the whole flying column (except O'Connell's section) to the left flank towards Kelleher's position to strike with full strength at this British unit now reinforced with the Essex men who had fled earlier. ‘The column commander ordered: “Fall in! Get ready! Target: Enemy concentration on your immediate front! Range 300. Three rounds fire!” Three times in succession a 100 rifles barked.' The enemy ‘broke in all directions'.
[22]
Kelleher's section had to fight ‘the most prolonged and dangerous part of the whole engagement', Barry said.

British dead and wounded were strewn on the Crossbarry road, in the fields south of it, in front of Denis Lordan's section, near Christy O'Connell's section, and as Barry moved up to Tom Kelleher when the shots had died down he looked at a number of dead British soldiers.

‘He tapped me on the shoulder. “I thought you were dead,” he laughed. “Great job! Great work!” he says. Then he turned to John Lordan. “Excellent!” he said. “You did great bloody fighting down on the road.”

‘Tisn't everybody would get excellent at school,' says John.

‘‘I know,” says Barry. “That's the reason I gave you excellent.”

‘Then he turned to me. “We've a great day's work done here.” And he swung around and walked back to inspect his column.'
[23]

The column lost three men – Jeremiah O'Leary, Con Daly and Peter Monahan. Peter Monahan was not his correct name. He was a British soldier with parents from Fermoy who deserted to join the IRA. Though a headstone is erected in the name of Peter Monahan in Bandon graveyard, he will remain forever the ‘unknown soldier'. Dan Corcoran and Jim Crowley were seriously wounded, others were slightly wounded.

Two hours had elapsed since the opening of the fight, and Barry said, ‘We were in possession of the countryside; no British military were visible, and our task was completed.' Yet he could never be sure; more troops could be encountered as they retired to billets.

Undoubtedly Barry's genius as a commander was proved on this occasion. He had learned from past mistakes. He adopted the only ‘sound policy' by deciding ‘to attack one side of the encircling troops, before the other British forces closed in.'
[24]
Moreover, he knew that while the British military were not good at close fighting, his own men were; they had tenacity and courage. He told Seán Feehan years later, ‘I put them close so that they'd fight or die, and I knew bloody well they'd fight!'
[25]
Pax O'Faolain said that Barry was a soldier in every way. ‘He could take a dozen lads and make soldiers of them. He was a tradesman, and that was his trade. As well as that he had a damned good head.'
[26]

According to the British version: ‘The rebels – more by good luck than good guidance – managed to get into a position from which they were able to defend themselves, and from this point they put up a spirited resistance to the military attack.'
[27]
But as Barry said, ‘Nobody can tell any guerrilla leader how he should fight with his force but himself.'
[28]
Strickland said ‘if the outcome had been successful' from the British viewpoint it ‘might easily have had decisive results as regards rebel activity in West Cork.'
[29]
Barry afterwards wrote for the Irish army magazine that the ‘British handling of motorised infantry was defective and slipshod, the officer ‘sent at least 16 lorries of troops towards or in to the ambush area before a single foot soldier reached it … Whatever the reason the British paid dearly for it.'
[30]
Fifty years later Barry said Crossbarry ‘may have been a decisive factor in getting the British establishment to think of a Truce. I am not claiming that it was, as there were other fights all over the country, but it is quite possible that it was very important for this nation, for the army, and for the Republic.
[31]
/
Tom Barry's fight at Crossbarry was ‘a major turning point' for the British establishment', Nudge Callanan, participant, believed.
[32]

Addressing Irish army officers 40 years later, Lieut Col Eamonn Moriarty spoke on location of how Tom Barry took the advantage of fighting ‘when in fact the man was practically surrounded, and the timing which is everything … I can see that Tom had very strong discipline, and it was what kept his unit together.'
[33]

Like Kilmichael, it was one of the great victories for the Third West Cork Brigade and, indeed, for Ireland. Though Kilmichael was the most decisive ambush for the country and the Volunteer movement, Crossbarry was the greatest battle that was fought during the Irish fight for freedom.

According to the account in the Daily Mail, London, the British casualties numbered 35, though another report says 39 dead and 47 wounded.

As with Kilmichael the balladmaker was to pen the epic ambush for posterity:

They sought to wipe the column out,
From east to west, from north to south,
‘Till at Crossbarry's bloody rout,
They woke from their day-dreaming.
Though ten to one they were that day,
Our boys were victors in the fray,
An' over the hills we marched away
With bagpipes merrily screaming.
[34]

Ahead of Barry and his men was the long circuitous march, up to 20 miles, to billets – carrying the seriously wounded and the bodies of three dead comrades. Before walking on at an easy pace, under strict discipline Barry drew up the column in line of sections. He told them they had done well. He decided ‘the get away' should ‘be rapid'
[35]

The men hadn't slept or eaten for over 24 hours. ‘They had marched, waited and fought all night.' They had to walk many miles before getting tea and bread and butter. Barry ordered scout guards to travel 300 yards ahead of the main body. First he ordered the men out on the road, and told them to walk 300 to 400 yards backwards, ‘to step backwards'. If ‘the military came along they would spot the footprints. Our commander was so wise, he thought of everything.' He sent other Volunteers to secure three horses and carts. Others were to organise food along the way. Flankers went at an easy pace – all would have to be prepared to fight again at any stage. Through his field glasses Barry observed some British forces as the column retired, they appeared leaderless ‘arguing as to what to do next'. Barry helped them make up their minds. He ordered, ‘Fall in! Fire!' His men responded. The enemy scattered.
[36]

‘I remember well getting up on a cart carrying ammunition. I was so tired I fell into a dead sleep,' says Nudge Callanan, ‘and I didn't care if the whole damn thing blew up.'
[37]

Along the way they had further minor encounters with distant British military; they returned fire, but neither side pursued the action.

Having put some distance between them and the enemy Barry and his men took a slower pace. As they marched along, his mind went back over the events of the night and the morning. He has said that a long chapter could be written about each of the 104 men – many of whom will remain unmentioned in history – and ‘whose behaviour surpassed even my high expectation of such a smashing body of West Cork fighters. It was a composite victory of 104 officers and men banded together as disciplined comrades. No genius of leadership or no prowess of any officer or man was responsible, for all shared in the effort that shocked the confidence of the British authorities in the power of their armed forces …The greatness of those men of the flying column had a double-edged effect on me. One knew they could be relied on to the last, but on the other hand, I grew to have such an affectionate regard for them that I worried continually in case I failed them through negligence or inefficiency. I dreaded to lose a single one of them through some fault of mine. Their confidence in me was even disturbing.'
[38]

In fact he bore this great love for the men he fought with until the day he died. Although he lost some friends through some petty disagreement, nevertheless if they were ever in trouble or needed anything, he would come to their assistance. Indeed, no matter which side of the Civil War the men who had fought with him took, he respected them and still called them ‘my men'.
[39]

Writing on the Crossbarry ambush, Liam Deasy noted that Tom Barry ‘proved himself an ideal column commander. At the camps organised by him he had trained the officers well, and in the many engagements in which he fought he had won the confidence and respect of everyone who served under him. He was a strict disciplinarian and a good strategist, but he was something greater still: he was a leader of unsurpassed bravery, who was in the thick of every fight, and so oblivious of personal risk that his men felt it an honour to be able to follow him.'
[40]

Travelling across ditches, fields and roads they reached Kilbornane by evening. Here they would eat. Barry stood on a ditch and watched the flying column pass. Though without food or rest, unshaven, caps with peaks turned back or in their pockets, with trench coats hung open and muddy leggings, they walked past with a spring in their step, rifles at the trail, or slung across their backs. ‘As they came in to pass where I stood, their shoulders jerked back so that no one would assume they were tiring', Barry wrote. He knew these ‘tough men' also as ‘light-hearted youths' caught up in the fight ‘for freedom from the chains of oppression and British aggression' would ‘normally have been happy working' on their farms, shops or at school. Barry was proud that they never doubted his decisions. ‘I shall always cherish the fact that never once during all the Anglo-Irish struggle did any officer or man question any of my decisions or show to me anything but the greatest loyalty and comradeship.'
[41]

‘Every one of us trusted Tom, we didn't want anything to happen to him as we fought together in our goal for freedom,' Denis Lordan recalled. Tom had no parents, brothers or sisters living in West Cork, and unlike most of the men, never had a shirt or a sock ‘sent from home'. But the men gave him theirs. On parade he was ‘Commandant' but in billets he was ‘Tom' one of ‘the boys'.
[42]
‘After I had been hurt and when long marches with the column was an effort', Tom wrote, ‘during a halt some of the men would come with a saddled horse “Commandant, this horse is idle and you might as well ride him the rest of the way”.' Because of their kindness and loyalty he would examine his conscience to see if he ‘had ordered some movement which might have been better left unexecuted'.
[43]
These ‘God-fearing men believed in one thing – the freedom of Ireland, and were prepared to follow Barry to the death … and were prepared to give their all with him.'
[44]

Darkness had already set in as the column reached O'Sullivan's of Gurranreagh, in the parish of Kilmichael, outside the Third West Cork Brigade area. They ‘were not respecters of borders and had crossed on many occasions', and had fought Toureen and Kilmichael in Cork No. 1 area.

As the weary men moved into billets, news reached them that the shots they had heard from Crossbarry in the morning were those that killed Tom's friend, Charlie Hurley. Tom says Charlie foretold his own death. ‘One day, as I was chaffing him, he turned to me and said quite gravely, “When I am killed by them I shall be alone. I shall die fighting them, but none of you will be with me.” And so it was.'
[45]

A few days before the Crossbarry ambush Charlie had given ‘a silver ring' to Flor Begley and asked him to get a wedding ring of the same size ‘with three stones in it'. At the billet the night before they left for the march to Crossbarry, Flor said to Charlie, ‘I hadn't a chance to get that ring for you yet – you'd never know what would happen to me tomorrow, so here you'd better take it!' The ring that Charlie wanted was for his bride-to-be Leslie Price, Cumann na mBan organiser. Flor thought about getting the silver ring again to return it to Leslie at the funeral and to then tell her the story, but he decided against it.
[46]

The evening after Crossbarry ambush, Tom, Liam Deasy and a column of men set out for Clogagh. ‘We marched and marched all Saturday and Sunday nights, although already weary and tired after the long fight at Crossbarry on Saturday morning until 2 a.m. on Monday when we arrived at Clogagh village.' Cumann na mBan members had smuggled Charlie Hurley's body from the Bandon Workhouse morgue, where British soldiers had taken it. Leslie Price, Charlie's fiancée and Bridie Crowley with colleagues drove with it through the night in a pony and trap. Seán MacCárthaigh drove Brigid O'Mahony ‘with some of his brain matter [from the fatal scene] to be buried with his remains.' The two scouts whom Barry sent to the local priest, returned.