Tom Barry (22 page)

Barry and his column knew that one man dressed in a woman's hood cloak was a constant caller to Bandon barracks. ‘He sold Brinny ambush'. Several attempts ‘to get him', failed. The British government sent ‘the informer and his family' to England. ‘A member of GHQ squad followed, but failed to find him.'
[26]

Major B. L. Montgomery of the Seventeenth Brigade, told Percival that he ‘regarded all civilians as “shinners”.' His ‘whole attention was given to defeating the rebels and it never bothered me a bit,' he wrote, ‘how many houses were burned.' In his ‘general remarks' he suggested, ‘that to win a war of that sort you must be ruthless; Oliver Cromwell, or the Germans, would have settled it in a very short time. Now-a-days public opinion precludes such methods; the nation would never allow it; and the politicians would lose their jobs if they sanctioned it.'
[27]

The British, Barry said, were met with their own weapons. ‘They had gone down in the mire to destroy us and our nation, and down after them we had to go to stop them.'
[28]
As a result of this drastic action IRA casualties were greatly reduced. ‘There can be no doubt as to why the death roll of the West Cork IRA dropped so amazingly; it was solely because British terror was met by a not less effective IRA counter-terror.'

Even after ‘a lapse of years' he believed he had nothing ‘to apologise for', in fact he felt ‘the decision should have been taken earlier' when more of his men would have been saved. The step these officers believed they had to take was ‘not an easy one' Barry said, ‘for one's mind was darkened and one's outlook made bleak by the decisions which had to be taken.'
[29]

Notes

By March 1921, the Third West Cork Brigade was an army, well trained and experienced in guerrilla warfare. This style of fighting required a commander able to make split-second decisions and the men under him able to act immediately on his commands to out-wit and out-fight an army trained in regular warfare. Their intelligence section was now much better equipped with binoculars, telescopes and other field equipment, and they had mastered Morse code signalling. Tom had learned message-sending and decoding in the British army and passed on these invaluable skills. ‘Smoke, mirror and light signals could be sent from Kinsale to the top of Ballyhandle, on to Belrose and into Lovell's Hill and from there to Bantry. It only took seven minutes to send a signal from Kinsale to Bantry – 50 miles approximately cross-country. (Tom's friend Dick Barrett, a teacher at Gurranes National School was an expert. Later he took the anti-Treaty side, was arrested and executed while in custody, during the Civil War.)
[1]
Meanwhile, the flying column was mobilised to the strength of 104 officers and men and had, to Barry's relief, obtained an explosives expert, Capt McCarthy, a former officer of the Royal Engineers with strong Republican sympathies. Another asset to the column was Flor Begley, intelligence officer, who would use his well-known talent as a player of the bagpipes. ‘I had formed an opinion that the best soldiers will fight even better to the strains of their traditional war songs,' said Barry. ‘You know, we Irish love this rousing music; it puts life into our blood.'
[2]
Word reached the flying column that the British garrison in the area, was being strengthened by 300 troops who had arrived in Kinsale and were to travel to Bandon on 17 March. Barry mobilised his column and moved into ambush position on the main Bandon-Kinsale road. He had ‘made arrangements to have the pipes collected' so that St Patrick's Day could be celebrated ‘by ambushing some lorries to the accompaniment' of Flor Begley on the pipes.
[3]
‘We had been marching all night.' Dr Nudge Callanan recalls, ‘and when dawn came I remember looking out over a wall and I saw reeds waving. I said to Dan Holland, “Come here, Dan. Would you tell me where we are?”

‘“This is a place called Shippool; it's an estuary of the Bandon River.”

‘We had three mines down and I remember damn well we were very hungry. We called one of the local fellows who was scouting and asked him to bring us down a bucket of tea from the house above. He brought us down a bucket of cocoa without milk or sugar, and it was the grandest cocoa I ever drank.'
[4]

The column remained all St Patrick's Day in seven sections of 14 rifle-men in each, including their section commander, and officers.
[5]
It was a miserable, biting wind-hard March day's wait and each man was poised for the unexpected. Barry had them positioned for a major battle. Towards evening two Cumann na mBan girls arrived on bicycles to tell them that the Kinsale military knew they were there. The British had set out but returned because of information received. ‘We knew then we were sold', said Barry who never traced the informant. Immediately he began to move his column on. Barry's leadership was tested as he grappled to get so many men to act in an orderly disciplined manner.
[6]
They had withdrawn about a mile from the ambushscade when Barry shouted to his men to halt, flatten, face downwards. ‘A British reconnaissance plane zoomed low over the ambush position and then started searching as we lay flat and still in extended order hidden in the dykes … I worried through the night as to how to get the column out of an attempted encirclement which would surely come.' Barry was certain that the people in the plane had spotted them and would be able to estimate the general direction of the IRA march as being towards the Upton-Crossbarry-Crosspound area.

Barry manoeuvred his men to Skeugh. They remained beside the ditches throughout the biting frosty night and then spent an ‘uneasy day' after Seán MacCárthaig brought ominous word that all garrisons were exceptionally quite. Strict security measures were adopted as they moved on to Ballyhandle where the column of 104 men billeted in several houses on the night of 18 March. Barry doubled the usual ring of scouts. He had not slept, and had eaten very little over the last two days and nights. In John O'Leary's, filled with apprehension, he refused a bed and instead lay fully dressed on the sofa. It was not long before Tom Kelleher and Mick Crowley rushed in. They had seen lights and heard lorries some miles to the west. It was almost 2.30 a.m. Further sounds came from the south. ‘And our great friends, the dogs were barking'. Instantly, Barry ordered that his men be alerted. When they assembled, he told them they were surrounded and no doubt out-numbered. ‘I had to decide without delay whether to fight or to retire and attempt to evade action.'

This wasn't an easy decision, because any section could be caught while retiring, possibly with heavy casualties. Furthermore, the shortage of ammunition, only 36–40 rounds per man, called for a swift and intensive fight at close quarters.

He did not know then that starting at 1 a.m. on the morning of 19 March, 400 troops had left Cork, 200 Ballincollig, 300 Kinsale and 350 Bandon. Later 120 Auxiliaries left Macroom. Later still more troops left Clonakilty and Cork.

Neither did he know until later that the local officer who had been ‘arrested' at Upton by Percival's men had ‘sold' their whereabouts. Seán MacCárthaigh met Fr Ned Fitzgerald in the city who told him that prison officers had entered this man's cell on the ‘eve of Crossbarry' and ‘that things did not look too good from the information side'. MacCárthaigh took the train, headed for headquarters to warn Seán Buckley and Charlie Hurley. But they did not heed his warning. By the time word of the ‘sell out' got to Barry he had given his ambush orders.
[7]
Once it was certain that the sounds of lorries could be heard from different areas, Tom Barry ‘Column Commander, having ordered all ranks to fall in, delivered a spirited talk. He pointed out that it was the duty of every man to give his best that day and to obey the orders of his superior officers.'
[8]
He said ‘that we would first smash one side of the encirclement on the Crossbarry road, and then deal with the others; above all no man or section was to retire from positions, and all were assured that they would be reinforced speedily if and when attacked. Then and only then was the decision taken to fight at Crossbarry.'
[9]
They were an encircled body, so Barry decision was precise. They would smash one side and fight their way out.

It was only at this stage that sections were allotted their positions, so Barry had to plan and plan quickly. His plan had to be decisive and they had to attack in such a way as to break the encirclement. He mobilised his men into seven sections, each with a section commander, and there were three officers with Barry as commanding officer. ‘If not exactly pale with fear, I was a worried man,' Barry wrote.
[10]
Had he known what the 6th Division had in mind he would have been more worried. Their ‘informant' who had given himself up at Upton, was in jail and ‘hoping to save his life, asked to see the Bde. I.O', and then gave them ‘a great deal of information', Percival recorded. He told them that ‘HD. Qrs. of the Third Cork Bde. IRA were located in a group of farms in the Ballymurphy townland and that there was a dug-out in the same locality'. He also told them that ‘John Hales and his column often made use of the area about two miles to the north of Cross Barry, and that this place was headquarters.' Accurate information on ‘the actual houses used by the rebels' was in their possession. At ‘a conference with the commanders of each party [Essex; Second Hants, First Manchs. & Aux. Divs] held at brigade headquarters on 18 March', a decision was taken ‘to surround the area with troops'. They would ‘drive inwards meeting on the road which divided the two areas' at Crossbarry. Transport from each district would get to a certain point and the military would then ‘proceed on foot' to ‘a rendezvous' and be ‘in position at 0600 hours'. However, some of the lorries took wrong turns, and though ‘the officers had maps' they ‘did not like to show a light … for fear of disclosing their presence.'
[11]
It appears that ‘the informant' gave the name John Hales (this is Seán Hales) as column commander instead of Tom Barry of whom there is no mention.
[12]
Flor Begley was in no doubt but that the information ‘obtained by the British' led to the selling of the Upton ambush, led to the subsequent ‘round up', led to the near entrapment of the flying column at Crossbarry, led to the arrest and torture of many men.
[13]

The well-laid plans of several regiments were in disarray when they reached the crossroads, because Barry had his men waiting, prepared to attack. At 3.30 a.m. with his column in prepared sections, he moved towards Crossbarry. An hour later they were in position, mainly on high ground west of the double crossroads twelve miles from Cork city and eight miles from Bandon. The distant sounds of barking dogs, and humming vehicles could be heard while the IRA men crouched with the hard March wind on their faces as they awaited Barry's order to commence. He spoke. ‘The column must stand and fight to the last man and the last round.'
[14]
The 104 men were divided into six sections and stretched inside the ditch, in the form of a triangle, with No. 7 section at the other side of the road (later moving into position to form a square). Barry had two small stone walls built to block a boreen at the western side and a road at the eastern flank of the ambuscade, thus preventing armoured cars from entering and flanking the column. Two mines were embedded in the road. It was extremely well planned. ‘The column leader stressed to me the responsibility which my section would have in the fight', Tom Kelleher wrote. Kelleher's section was at the rear ‘to protect the main body'. Communication between Barry as column commander and the other officers and the various sections was to be maintained by runners. The command post (Barry) was movable between the centre sections. ‘Even though sections saw no enemy they were not to move to the aid of other sections, as the enemy were operating on various sides.'
[15]
Throughout the night Cumann na mBan members ran through fields, some in relays to convey directions of the slow-moving British vehicles to Barry and his men.

At 6.30 a.m. shots were heard in the distance. Tom's great friend, Charlie Hurley, who had been wounded at the Upton ambush, was in Fordes, a ‘safe house' a few miles away when Major Halahan and officers of the First Essex burst in. Hurley, dressed only in his shirt and trousers, came down the stairs a revolver in each hand. The military stood in the kitchen at the foot of the stairs. Charlie kept firing ‘as he rushed them'. He left one dead, two wounded and ‘he made for the back door'. He was shot and fell dead in the back yard. The sound of the firing from Fordes made the men at the ambush site tenser, although they did not learn until late that night of Charlie's death. Tom had sent two men to warn Charlie to get out, but the Ballincollig military who were on the way to Crossbarry captured them.
[16]

At 8 a.m., the long convoy of army lorries began to creep slowly abreast of the centre of the IRA position, moving towards the mine. The explosion blocked the road and announced the opening of the assault. Liam Deasy and Tom Barry flattened against the ditch as the leading lorry approached. Suddenly it slowed. Soldiers began to shout. Disregarding his stringent orders, a Volunteer from No. 3 section moved from his barn door to look out. He was spotted. The lorry halted immediately and its shouting occupants opened fire. He had messed up Barry's plan.

The British troops tumbled from their lorries which were by now strung out along the ambush position. ‘The crackling of the rifle-fire and bursting of the bombs rent the quiet morning air … Above all other sounds could be heard the crack of the Peter the Painter, held in the hand of the column leader [Tom Barry]. This sound encouraged the men and gave them renewed energy.' No. 3 section opened fire and No. 1 and No. 2 sections did likewise, while No. 7 section took on the rear. The sound of gun-fire mingled with ‘the old war songs' and ‘rousing marches and tunes' on Flor Begley's bagpipes stimulated the column as bullets whizzed all round.
[17]
The Volunteers firing was often at point blank range because their positions were so close to the road. The enemy was confused and demoralised. Many ran panic-stricken as volley after volley was fired. As some scrambled across the fields, Barry ordered three sections to follow them. They chased the enemy (who became completely disorganised) through fields using rapid fire and killed many of them. This first phase of the action was over. The British encircling lines were smashed.
[18]

Barry's policy was to ‘hit without delay, hit hard, and hit as many separate points on the cordon as is possible.' In this way ‘the forces surrounded by the cordon' were able to punch ‘a hole in a weak part of the cordon'.
[19]
An order was given to collect the arms and equipment from the dead. These were a welcome bonus, and included in the haul was a brand-new Lewis gun and eight drums of ammunition. The dead were dragged to the side of the road while the lorries were drenched with petrol and set alight. Barry, having broken the encirclement, could now have withdrawn toward the south, but he decided they would stand their ground and wait for the next flood of attackers. Edward White, a prisoner in one enemy lorry though not an IRA man, had been arrested that morning and escaped during the firing, now helped to carry the captured machine-gun. The British forces had introduced ‘a measure' of ‘carrying “hostages” with all road convoys' to prevent attacks, according to Strickland. But it didn't work on this occasion.
[20]
The first three lorries were burning when rifle-fire was heard from Denis Lordan's section and Barry moved up to support them. Heavy fighting was exchanged for some time. Protected only by a small ditch, they fought ‘like lions' – again the enemy ran in confusion, leaving their dead.