“The Rare Ould Times” From The Irish People newspaper, Feb. 9, 1991

 By the late Joe Stynes

It was the year 1922, and the IRA was split in two. The Company I belonged to, C Company of the 2nd Battalion, had several of its members go over to the Free State Army. Several became neutral, and the rest remained in the IRA, loyal to their oath of allegiance to defend the Republic against all enemies, foreign and domestic. The IRA had taken over the Four Courts when they established their headquarters.

 On June 27,1922, C Company of the 2nd Battalion, Dublin Brigade, meeting at 42 North Great George's Street, were ordered to remain for the night. Next morning, on orders from Lloyd George, Prime Minister of England, the Free State Army with British cannon attacked the Four Courts and the fight was on between the Free State and the IRA. The 2nd Battalion took over O'Connell Street and Parnell Street.

 Our Company C was assigned to Healy's Public House in Parnell Street, where we set up barricades inside and outside the building. Before we left 42 N. Great George's Street, I cycled home to get two Lee-Enfield rifles. Our equipment was very poor; we had only five or six rifles, seven revolvers and one machine gun. The first night we were attacked by the Domestic Enemy with two armored cars. We withstood the attack, but not before they had blown away the barricade on one of the windows. We began boring holes in the walls connecting the building. When there was sufficient opening, I went into the next house, and crouched up in the corner was a young woman and her children. I assumed nothing would happen and brought her food and milk. She was so grateful she gave me a piece of caul (it's something that comes with the birth of a baby) and told me it would keep me safe. I still have it.

 That evening several of those in our building went through the walls to occupy Bridgeman's on the corner of Parnell Street and O'Connell Street Charlie O'Malley, brother of Ernie O'Malley, was shot dead, and Jim Brennan, one of Ireland's best fighting men in the Tan War, had his arm shot off. Only an hour before, Charlie, Jim and I were talking and joking, and this sad news was a terrible shock to us all.

 Tom Burke had left me in charge of Healy's building with about seven men and two Cumman na mBan girls. There was a knock on the door, and when I opened it, my stepbrother, John Quinn, came in. He told me he wanted to fight with the IRA. Knowing he could handle a rifle, as he was in the British Army in the first World War, I assigned him to a window next to a man called Valentine. Later, when checking on the man on duty at the windows, my brother called me over and whispered to me he would like to be changed: "This man next to me has his rosary beads around the barrel of his rifle and told me to fire over the enemy's heads as he did not want to shoot anyone." My brother said, "What kind of army is this?"

That night the Countess Markiewicz came in with her revolver in her holster. After giving her a cup of tea, she told me she wanted the Cumann na mBan girls to leave the building. I told her she could leave but those girls were not going out to be shot on the streets. The Countess left. Two days later we were subjected to heavy fire. Watching the dome on the Four Courts go up fifty feet in the air made us aware the enemy were now concentrating on O'Connell Street with their English artillery. We evacuated to the Hamman Hotel, which was the Republican headquarters. The hotel was burning and we were ordered to leave. Cathal Brugha stayed on, and on July 5,1922, he stepped into the street with his Peter the Painter in his hand. He was shot several times and taken to the Mater Hospital, where he died a few days later, one of Ireland's greatest soldiers.

 My Brother and I, taking a few revolvers, went home to find my mother and father kneeling in prayer for our safe return. My other brother, Hugh, was captured and imprisoned with the survivors of the Four Courts. Going underground, we began to reorganize. I met up with Tom Burke, Acting O/C of 2nd Battalion, and he informed me that our leaders, Rory O'Connor, Liam Mellows, McKelvey and Barrett, were in Mountjoy and that Henderson, Acting O/C, Dublin Brigade, had plans from Rory O'Connor re: escape from Mountjoy butt would not go through with plans until Oscar Traynor came back from the Dublin mountains.

We got the plans and decided to start the tunnel and meet the one started by Rory O'Connor inside. The man Valentine, who had told my brother not to fire to kill with his rosary beads around his rifle, lived in Glengarriffe Parade, running parallel to Mountjoy Prison. He was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and decided he would go to the Isle of Man for a vacation with his wife. He gave me the keys to his house and asked me to look in every day and give his cat milk and something to eat After he left, I informed Tom Burke. We took over Valentine's house and Tom picked several men, including Sean Mclntee, my brother, Sean Hogan and Mary Dugan to cook, etc. Sean Mclntee became one of de Valera's ministers afterwards.

 I went to Valentine's house that night and admitted the men to dig the tunnel. About 12 that night, all had arrived, including Mary Dugan, who brought food to last a couple of days. They started to dig up the floor and the tunnel was started. I left about 10 a.m. with a list of things needed. I went straight to Tom Burke and he told me some family was gone to Howth across from Valentine's Glengarriffe Parade and, giving me a glass cutter, asked me to talk to the engineer about taking over the building across the street as it would save time.

 I went back to Valentine's house the next day. The front room was dug up about ten feet deep. Only two or three men could work on the tunnel at a time; the rest were playing cards. Maureen D. was cooking. Clay from the tunnel was packed in the other rooms. After talking to the engineer and conveying the suggestion re: going across the street to avoid tunnelling under the road, he agreed with Tom Burke. When it got late, I crossed the road to the house where the people were gone on vacation and with the glass cutter opened the window, entered the house, opening the front door and admitting the tunnelers one by one every 10 minutes. At the back of the house they began the new tunnel.

 It was a great feeling to know Rory O'Connor, Liam Mellows, J. Barrett and Dick McKelvey and others would be back with us. Everything was going good until I received a note from my mother. A young boy picked up a note thrown from a lorry by my brother, who was on his way to Kilmainham Gaol with all he tunnelers. The note read, "Going on holidays. Keep out of the way." I went to Tom Burke and we felt terrible as a few months later, December 8, 1922, die four leaders just mentioned were taken out and executed. I had to avoid going near Glengarriffe Parade.

 About a week after, I received a letter from Valentine telling me he would arrive at Kingsbridge Station at 8 o'clock the next day. His nerves were much better and the Manx cats on the Isle of Man had reminded his wife of her darling cat which she was so anxious to see. It was only then I realized the terrible condition of her house. And then the climax: I found the cat dead. I forgot to feed it. I left the house, walking around in circles. I had to meet the Valentines at Kingsbridge Station. If he was alone, I might be able to reason with him, but there was no reasoning, and then to tell his wife her cat was dead. Suppose she went temporarily crazy and attacked me? I would have no defense. The next night I met the train.

 I greeted them with a forced smile and helped them with their baggage to a cab drawn by a horse. This would take them almost an hour to arrive at their house. They were both so glad to see me and told me of the wonderful holiday and how good they were feeling. I said to myself, "It won't be too long you will have that feeling." I just listened to them as I visualized the tunnel, the dead cat etc. I did not hear one word they were saying to me and when I came near the house, I gave them the key. While they were trying to thank me, I said, "I have bad news. The IRA started a tunnel in your house. You will find everything upset."

 The jarvey pulled up he horse. They both jumped out of the cab and rushed to the house. I paid the cab and was saying the cat died when the door slammed. I walked away down the North Circular Road, afraid to look back. I never saw them again, and I am sure they never wanted to see me any more.

As I walked down the North Circular Road to Parnell Street little did I think what this failure of the tunnel meant. On December 8th, only a few months after the four leaders were executed, my brother Hugh, who was a prisoner in Mountjoy at the time, told me that when they went to Mass that morning, the priest turned around on the altar, asking he prisoners o  pray for their dead comrades; this was the first the realized that  Rory, Liam, Joe and Dick were gone.

I just escaped bein burnt to death destroying the Custom House in Stone Street. With about 20 men, we took over the building, evacuating all employees, and it was planned to set fire from the top floor down. The men assigned to the first floor became nervous and set fire to the first floor before we came down, with the result being we had to jump through the fumes. Some received burns and had their hair singed and were very lucky to get out safe.

Cathal Brugha had just died from wounds as I was making a quick visit to my wounded friend Jim Brennan in the Mater Hospital. Going up the stairs, I met Mrs. Brugha, and she told me Cathal had just died. I went down into the hospital morgue and said a few prayers at his bier and then disappeared, as the enemy were on the watch for members of the IRA. Classified by the Free State government as irregulars, we now had resorted to guerilla warfare. While many of the people of Dublin were friendly to us, a percentage of them were neutral and the rest were with the Free State and very bitter.

 De Valera, head of the Republican Movement at that time, made a statement that sooner than accept the Treaty, we would wade through our brothers' blood. De Valera later on accepted the Treaty and became the Taoiseach. He had several IRA men executed, and one Chief of Staff of the IRA, Charlie Kearns, of Kerry, was hanged by the English hangman brought over from England. Also executed was Maurice O'Neill of Kerry.

 In a recent issue (1983) of Magill Magazine, a monthly current affairs publication, the statement that Maurice O'Neill was executed for the shooting of a detective is incorrect. He was not even charged with shooting anybody. He was charged with resisting arrest aiding and abetting another person to resist or escape arrest possession of arms and membership in an illegal organization. On conviction of those flimsy charges, he was executed. Around the same time up North, David Renting, who fought his way from the basement to the attic of the house in which he was surrounded and was responsible for the shooting of a number of RUC men, only got a sentence of some years in jail and that from the Orangemen, while de Valera and his Fianna Fail party exacted the supreme penalty.