Decoding the IRA

by Tom Mahon

  The Special Branch

  Special Branch detectives, being frequently ex-IRA men, were at a considerable advantage in tackling the IRA, having intimate knowledge of the organisation’s members, their haunts and hiding places. They engaged in a policy of continued harassment, arrest and interrogation of suspects, along with inducements to inform or reveal the location of arms dumps. Their task was made easier by the desperate economic straits of republicans and by the drift of many men away from the IRA. As one volunteer remembered: ‘We were continuously being lifted by the Special Branch and being released again.’9

  In August 1927 the Dundalk IRA reported that: ‘A volunteer was approached by [the] “CID”, who offered him £2 per week for any information he could give them concerning [arms] dumps, [they] also [offered him] £1 for each rifle got.’10 John Kelly, a Dublin IRA officer, was interviewed by Detective Hughes of the Special Branch and offered ‘many inducements hinting at the restocking of his shop … if he would give information as to the personel [sic] of the 3rd Batt. [battalion] staff, and the whereabouts of the [arms] dumps’.11 Hughes had earlier questioned IRA quartermaster Jimmie Brennan and offered him £25 for information on arms dumps in Dublin.12

  Seán O’Grady of Cork went to his local garda station to apply for a passport and was told by ‘Guard Maguire, since promoted to CID … that unless he handed up a dump for which he would be well paid, a passport could not be granted’. When he refused, the garda suggested that he ‘leave a few rusty shotguns on his land … for which payment would also be made’.13 At a time when economic necessity was forcing many to emigrate and start a new life in America, this was a particularly persuasive form of coercion.

  Mollie Hyland of Cumann na mBan was trailed by a man (possibly Detective Kenny of the Special Branch) who loitered outside her office all day. He told her he knew Frank Kerlin when he was ‘in the game’ [i.e. before Kerlin’s resignation from the IRA in 1927] and that he was trying to ‘get in touch’ with the IRA again.14

  One of those suspected of informing was the legendary IRA figure, Seán Hogan of Tipperary, who had been with Dan Breen at Soloheadbeg in January 1919 when two police constables transporting gelignite were ambushed and shot dead. This attack is generally regarded as marking the opening of the Anglo-Irish War. He then went on the run from the police, but came out of hiding to attend a local dance. Arrested at the dance, he was dramatically rescued from police custody on a train by Breen, which resulted in two more dead RIC men. He went on to further distinguish himself by leading a flying column that failed to participate in a single ambush.15 In December 1926 the IRA chief of staff warned the OC in Tipperary that: ‘We have information that Seán Hogan has offered his services to Nelligan [sic] for money. He may, therefore, be used in Tipp. Do not broadcast this. At present all [IRA members] should be told to be discreet, even with people who were prominent in the past.’16

  Seán Harling, a minor player in the Dublin IRA, was to become its best known informer of the period. Harling was a long-serving republican who had been a courier for the First Dáil and for Éamon de Valera and ‘claimed to have worked for Collins’.17 Though he later referred to himself as an ‘ambivalent republican’ during the Civil War, he spent most of the war imprisoned by the Free State in the internment camp at the Curragh. After his release he lived with his wife and children in a small gate lodge on the Dartry Road, Dublin. Though he received a small grant of £30 from the IRA, he remained impoverished with no prospect of a job.18 He eventually approached the gardaí and offered to inform. In the words of David Neligan: ‘It was poverty drove Harling into working with us. I felt sorry for the poor wretch.’19

  In early 1927 Harling was in charge of an IRA arms dump, but when his unit became suspicious of him, it was taken from him. Later he met one of the company’s officers, by the name of Garland, and asked him if he now had the dump at his house. Garland, by way of a ruse, told him that ‘a girl was minding it’. The IRA’s suspicion of Harling was further increased when Michael Clarke, the company OC, was arrested a few months later, and during interrogation the Special Branch told him what they knew about Garland and asked what was the name of the ‘girl’ in charge of the dump. Based on this, the IRA’s Dublin brigade intelligence officer deduced ‘Harling is therefore blamed as the cause of the arrests of these men [sic] and the particular line of interrogation.’20

  Evidence of Harling’s treachery continued to be gathered by IRA intelligence. In October 1927 Harling met an IRA man called Ryan, and he ‘appeared very indignant over allegations that he was in the CID, and denied he had touch with them’. But the next day he met Ryan again, and made a ‘most peculiar statement’ withdrawing ‘all he had said before, and admitted belonging to the CID’.21 A few weeks later Harling approached Con Mulligan of Phibsboro, an unemployed ex-member of the Dublin IRA, and offered him £4 10 shillings and 9 pennies as an initial reward for giving information on arms dumps and the names of current officers. Mulligan told the IRA that he refused this offer, though this was doubted.22

  When Seán Russell and Mick Price were arrested in November 1927 the IRA was informed: ‘Seán Harling’s pal Jimmie Hayden is suspected of giving Russell and Price away. At least his [the informer’s] Christian name is Jimmie and he is a pal of Harlings. On making enquiries Hayden seems the only man who would likely to have done this.’23 This rather circumstantial evidence, along with the Special Branch seizure of 50,000 rounds of ammunition in a raid on an IRA dump in Glasnevin, sealed Harling’s fate. Many years later Moss Twomey also implicated Harling in his arrest in November 1926; however, if true, it’s difficult to understand why the IRA took so long to confront Harling.24

  Meanwhile Harling wisely declined an offer to attend an IRA court martial. Then one evening in January 1928, after he was dropped off close to home by a garda squad car, two men followed him; a shootout ensued and, standing behind one of the pillars of his house, Harling shot one of his assailants in the back of the head, causing the other to flee. The dead man was Tim Coughlan, one of the trio who had shot Kevin O’Higgins. Ironically, Coughlan had been associated with a group of IRA men who had given information to the gardaí leading to the seizure of a large dump in St Enda’s college in 1926.25 David Neligan had Harling and his family packed off to safety in America under the name ‘Hurley’, at the state’s expense. They returned two years later and Harling was fixed up with a clerical job in the Revenue Commissioners. He may have worked out some sort of a deal with the IRA as he was left alone and died aged seventy-five in 1977.26 His obituary appears to have inflated his rank during the Anglo-Irish War by referring to him as a ‘Brigadier-General’ of Na Fianna, and failed to mention his subsequent employment by the Special Branch.27

  Frank Kerlin and the IRA’s Intelligence Department

  Frank Kerlin, the director of intelligence, was much liked and admired within the organisation and recognised both for his intelligence and sense of humour. He was a Dubliner whose parents had moved to Dublin from Derry, where they started a decorating business and opened a shop selling paint and wallpaper. He was an outstanding student at the Christian Brothers school in Synge Street and was awarded a university scholarship to study chemistry. Responsibility came early to young Frank as both his parents died when he was eighteen. He and his seventeen-year-old sister, Bridie, took over the shop and reared their three younger siblings. Somehow he managed to juggle his ‘parental’ responsibilities with his duties in the IRA, and during the Civil War he was appointed the IRA’s deputy head of intelligence. In March 1927, he resigned as director of intelligence and in July, following the assassination of Kevin O’Higgins, resigned from the IRA citing ‘family and business responsibilities and many serious financial commitments’. His old comrade Seán Lemass persuaded him to join Fianna Fáil and he was elected a TD within a month. He died from TB at an early age in 1932.28 It is not clear who was appointed in his place though it may have been Staff Captain ‘Wilson’.

  The Department of Intelligence
had a mixed degree of success and failure throughout this period. Kerlin received reports from the more active units around the country, cultivated sources within the police and weeded out IRA informers. His greatest achievement, however, was to maintain contact with IRA prisoners and to help organise a number of successful prison breaks. But all the intelligence in the world wouldn’t change the fact that the IRA didn’t have sufficient capability to confront the forces of the Free State head on. The most sensitive area of foreign intelligence and espionage remained under the direct control of Moss Twomey and Andy Cooney.

  Seán MacSwiney reported from Cork city that: ‘The IO [Intelligence Officer] is not doing anything … [and] no IO work is being done in the companies.’29 Moss Twomey replied that this was a ‘great pity’, and he hoped ‘that the services of every friendly civilian willing to assist are availed of’.30

  Republican Seán Carroll of Limerick told Kerlin’s department that there were ‘about 200 tons of explosives at Dunass [sic] House, Clonlara, [County] Clare, for the Shannon work [the hydro-electric scheme under construction]. There is a guard of about 20 minding it. Almost half of the guard are at Castleconnell each night up to 10 o’clock. He thinks it a handy wee job.’ Presumably the guard were partaking in libations at Castleconnell in the evenings. Carroll added that he had a nephew, Willie, ‘a very good lad, lives at 25 Lower Mount St. [Dublin] and attends some wireless class in Dublin. [He] is not linked up with the [Dublin] brigade. This ought to be seen to at once.’31

  The brigade adjutant from Mayo wrote to Kerlin, advising him to ‘get a friend on [the] Malaranny Bay [sic] Hotel staff’ as a group of government officials ‘travelling incognito went the pace [lived the fast life] there last season’.32 During the Civil War the Mulranney hotel became a well-known refuge for the IRA. On one memorable occasion the manager, Miss Brosnan of Kerry, allowed them to take the hotel boiler, which they mounted on a truck chassis to make an armoured car, that successfully led the attack on the Free State garrison at Clifden.33

  Even prisoners helped gather intelligence. The IRA OC in Maryborough prison wrote that Phil Cadden, a fellow prisoner, ‘knows of a secret passage [tunnel], running from the military burial ground in Fermoy into the barracks. He is willing to point out where this passage is to anyone who will contact him. We have arranged that the man who’ll approach him shall use the word “venus” as a password … [Cadden] is to be released in a day or two. I know nothing about him except that he is an ex-British soldier and as far as I know him, is alright. He says he stole rifles etc.’ The OC was hopeful that the IRA could use the tunnel to enter the barracks and steal weapons.34

  The IRA’s Kildare battalion was entrusted with the responsibility of watching the army barracks at the Curragh.35 In November 1927 the OC reported that ‘revolvers and rifles [were] to be purchased’ from the camp and asked Twomey if he would pay for this.36 Twomey replied that the money was available and added: ‘This is very important and if there is any opportunity it must not be missed.’37

  In May 1926 the chief of staff suggested to Kerlin that an IRA supporter should write to the Special Branch to get a reply on a copy of the ‘official paper used by the CID [sic]’. He also wanted a Special Branch officer’s ‘identification disc’.38 This was a small metal medallion with an ID number carried by plainclothes detectives as a form of identification. Armed with official documents and a disc, IRA men could have impersonated a detective. In 1925 George Gilmore used such a ruse – disguised as a garda and with forged papers he entered Mountjoy prison and rescued nineteen IRA men.39

  Just as the Special Branch watched the IRA, in turn the IRA kept tabs on the comings and goings of Special Branch officers. The Dublin IRA reported on ‘a suspicious looking character who posts himself outside the brown bread shop daily’ and decided to ‘have his movements watched and [be] followed everywhere’ until his identity was uncovered.40 The IRA observed Detective Kenny as he escorted a ‘tall man with a small beard’ on his way to board the boat for Glasgow.41 The North Cork brigade was asked to provide the names of police taking part in raids on the homes of suspected republicans.42 The chief of military intelligence, Colonel Michael Costello, was seen ‘visiting his aunt and uncle-in-law Jerry O’Neill’ in Offaly.43

  A number of contacts were made with gardaí and the Special Branch. The adjutant in Cork recommended that it would be worthwhile contacting Garda Wall, a ‘clerk in Superintendent MacMahon’s office at the Guard [sic] Depot, Dublin’.44 Connie Neenan, the IRA representative in America, told Moss Twomey to ‘get in touch with Sergeant Leen, Civic Guards, Bandon, County Cork. He is in [the] Superintendent’s office, he is fed up with [the] Imperial gang and is going to clear out, possibly emigrate. He is anxious to give information to us. Mention Martin Howard of Listowel, now in New York … [He sent a letter] to Martin offering to assist. I saw the letter.’45 The Cork city brigade was promised by a ‘dismissed CID man’ that he’d provide them with information on suspected informers.46 In Waterford a garda provided the local IRA with police documents, including information on the recent beating of detained IRA men. He may have already received £100 and the director of intelligence wrote to the local IO: ‘A thousand pounds could be well spent on these police people. Be very careful as to how you manage to meet your principal friend there. On no account let anyone know you are meeting him … Tell him all these documents are useful, but do not pretend they are so valuable as they are; tell him he must get better stuff.’47

  Cumann na mBan led a campaign from 1927 to intimidate jurors in trials of IRA men. Jurors received leaflets, signed the ‘Ghosts’, which ranged from an appeal to their patriotism to death threats. The ‘success’ of this campaign led to the government introducing the Juries Protection Act in 1929.48 In May 1926 Moss Twomey wrote to Kerlin ordering him to ‘find out where [the] panel of jurors is prepared and all details as to how it can be seized a few days before [the] opening of the court’. He also wanted Kerlin to send a ‘representative’ to ‘attend trials [held] under the Treason Act’ and to identify the jury if they found the IRA defendant guilty.49

  In 1927 the IRA expended considerable effort and money in preventing the conviction of Ned O’Reilly for murder. O’Reilly was charged with having shot Garda Hugh Ward during an attack by three men on the garda barracks at Hollyford, County Tipperary as part of the barrack raids of November 1926. He was arrested soon after the raid, while his co-defendant, Jim Ryan, escaped to England. A year later Ryan was captured at a hotel in Penrith, Cumberland, on the border of the Lake District, and returned to Ireland to stand trial with O’Reilly.50

  Twomey was optimistic that O’Reilly would be found not guilty: ‘We have no fears as to [the] result of his case. He has [a] good defence. He was at a priest’s house, when [the] raid occurred. [The] priest [was] out [of the house] just at the time, still [he] can swear Ned could not be in [the] raid and come back [to the house]. [The] prosecution is weak.’51 Strong as the case may have been, the IRA was taking no risks and Twomey wrote to Connie Neenan: ‘Send on cash at once … [Our] last money is exhausted. Had big demands. Ned O’Reilly’s defence is costing hundreds.’52

  The state’s main witness was Garda Martin McTigue, who had been in the barracks along with Ward.53 To prevent McTigue from testifying, the IRA planned to threaten his family, and the director of intelligence asked the IRA adjutant in Claremorris for ‘the postal address of Mrs MacTigue [sic], [the] mother of [the] policeman giving evidence against Ned O’Reilly. We intend sending her a few letters anonymously. What influence or pressure can you bring to bear on her or [her] family …? This [is] urgent. [The] trial may take place this week.’54 The adjutant replied: ‘These people [the McTigue’s] are inclined to be in sympathy with us. The brother at home is a very good chap and has always been in our organisation. The man causing the trouble was always a useless kind of chap. Any influence his people may have over him will be used for us.’55

  The trial finally opened in December 1927, with the two IRA
men defended by the barrister, Joseph O’Connor. Seán MacBride (a distinguished lawyer in his own right) later said that O’Connor was ‘the best criminal law advocate at the Irish Bar’.56 Though several of the villagers from Hollyford had witnessed the attack, many of whom were only a few feet or yards away from the perpetrators, none could identify the attackers. The prosecution’s case therefore depended on Garda McTigue. McTigue pointed out O’Reilly and Ryan as the two raiders who entered the barracks. O’Connor next cross-examined him and McTigue clarified that O’Reilly pointed a revolver directly at his face. However, when questioned by O’Connor he admitted he had originally said O’Reilly’s eyes were brown, which he now knew to be incorrect. O’Connor addressed the jury, arguing that, given McTigue’s inability to identify the colour of O’Reilly’s eyes, they couldn’t rely on the remainder of his evidence. As for Ryan, an acquaintance testified that he was with him the evening in question. With this the foreman of the jury said that they didn’t need to hear any more and, to applause in the court, the judge acquitted the two defendants.

  Though O’Reilly and Ryan had an excellent barrister, and the state’s case was hampered by the lack of evidence and the obvious fear of the witnesses in the village, it’s interesting to wonder whether or not the IRA had succeeded in getting at McTigue.57 O’Reilly later emigrated to America only to return with the onset of the Great Depression in 1930. Not surprisingly the gardaí in Tipperary didn’t forget him and after three letters sent to him with a job offer were returned, marked ‘not known’, he went to the garda station to complain, where he alleged he was ‘abused’.58

  Prisoners