Tom Barry
Page 19
‘“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 Barry’s leadership was tested as he grappled to get so many men to act in an orderly disciplined manner.[6] They had withdrawn about a mile from the ambushscade when Barry shouted to his men to halt, flatten, face downwards.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 o
nly 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.
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]