Tom Barry’s British Army service records and #Armistice100

On 30th June 1915, Thomas Bernard Barry from Cork (but born in Kerry) joined the British Army at Athlone and enlisted in the Royal Field Artillery,  going on to serve with the 14th Battery in the Mesopotamian Expeditionary Force and Egypt. Barry is better known for his subsequent exploits as Tom Barry, a leading I.R.A. figure and I.R.A. Chief of Staff in the 1930s. Barry didn’t conceal his British Army training and his memoir, Guerrilla Days in Ireland, included details of his military service. His claims to insubordination, including at the time of the Easter Rising, are borne out by his own military service records (as Gunner Thomas Barry, Royal Field Artillery, Service Number 100399).

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Tom Barry’s service records including a list of offences (note ‘Irregular Conduct’ on 27th May 1916, during the Easter Rising).

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Record of Barry’s enlistment.

Military History Sheet

Details of Barry’s military service.

Barry is probably the most prominent of those who fought during the first world war and subsequently fought in the I.R.A., but there were many others including the likes of Emmet Dalton and Erskine Childers and even a Victoria Cross winner, Martin Doyle.

The complex relationship between the Irish and service in the British Army is a recurrent theme in Irish history. In the post-famine era, Irish republicans frequently either specifically joined for, or later utilised, British Army military training for their own purposes. Individuals like William Harbinson, famously (if somewhat obscurely) James Connolly and more recently the likes of the Catholic Ex-Servicemen’s Association in the 1970s have illustrated how Irishmen did what Connolly summarised as “…learn all he can and put his training to the best advantage…“. The contribution of British military training to the capacity of Irish republicans to counter the physical control of Ireland by Britain is one obvious outworking of this relationship.

However, the traditional imperial practice of harvesting soldiers from the impoverished communities under it’s control, both at home and abroad, is indelibly rooted in Irish communities (both Catholic and Protestant) for whom military service and the risk of death were often taken as the last refuge from starvation and utter poverty. In some contemporary politics, what was a crushingly brutal experience for many is once again pressed into service as some sort of parable of lost imperial greatness captured by an obsession with glorifying the brutal slaughter of millions by the European royal families to no apparent purpose between 1914 and 1918.

Given the extent to which poetry is seen as the voice of the first world war, here are a few lines from a poem by an independent Orangeman from Belfast, shipyard worker Thomas Carnduff, from his poem about his own experiences entitled ‘Ypres, September 1917 (A Memory)’:

Light breezes, scented with North Sea spray,
Breathe murmurs of remorse,
And leafless shell-scarred branches sway
Above each mangled corpse.

 

The IRA’s ‘Northern Campaign’

Did the IRA mount a ‘northern campaign’ in 1942-43? According to some historians the IRA began a campaign against the northern government in 1942, which most call the ‘Northern Campaign’. Oddly, though, there is no evidence to suggest that the IRA ever formally began such a campaign.

In early 1942, under Sean McCool then Eoin McNamee, the IRA’s Army Council had debated its policy towards the northern government and the possibility of a northern campaign. The context of this was the long-standing conflict both within the IRA and between the IRA and the southern government over whether the IRA could endorse, passively accept or even just merely tolerate the legitimacy of the southern government. The real issue was whether the IRA should cease any form of military activity against the southern government and concentrate its efforts against the northern government. This was an ongoing bone of contention between the IRA structures north of the border, and, the IRA centre and GHQ in Dublin.

In the sequence of events that led up to the Belfast IRA removing Stephen Hayes as (Acting) IRA Chief of Staff in 1941, two major command meetings had been raided at which there was to be a decision  on whether to mount a formal northern campaign. The removal of Hayes is probably best understood in the context of a Belfast-Dublin dynamic within the IRA and northern frustration at IRA GHQ’s perpetual inability, or unwillingness, to engage in a northern campaign. Apart from brief spells under Kerrymen Sean Harrington and Charlie Kerins, the IRA Chief of Staff after Hayes was normally a northerner, with Pearse Kelly, Sean McCool, Eoin McNamee, Hugh McAteer and Harry White all filling the role up to 1945.

Not that the IRA hadn’t actually considered a ‘northern campaign’. Tom Barry, as Chief of Staff in 1937-38, had gone as far as preparing a plan (basically to seize Armagh in the hope that it would force the Free State to intervene on the side of the IRA). The plan, such as had been put together, was the subject of gossip in Cork then quickly abandoned. Barry hadn’t really consulted with the northern IRA leadership on the plan, though. The IRA Command meeting in Crown Entry in 1936 also appears to have been intended to consider a northern campaign but it too was raided. That it was to double up as a command conference would be the reason why many more senior commanders were present than required for a court martial (the meeting’s stated purpose). Arguably, the sabotage campaign in England, proposed by Sean Russell, was partly a compromise to avoid focusing the IRA’s efforts solely against the northern government (and by doing so, tacitly accepting the hegemony of the southern government south of the border). By 1942 the IRA’s internal debate had still progressed no further than a general proposal to relocate as much weaponry as possible to where it would be used in such a campaign. Much of this is related in Bowyer-Bell’s The Secret Army (although it is presented as part of a formal ‘northern campaign’).

After repeated changes of Chief of Staff in Dublin in 1941 and 1942, Hugh McAteer had taken over from Eoin McNamee and, by July 1942, relocated the IRA’s centre to Belfast where an IRA Executive was to be put together to oversee future activity. Sean Russell’s campaign in England had been the final realisation of a long-proposed strategy going back to the Irish Republican Brotherhood and Fenians. It had been viewed with significant skepticism by the Belfast IRA who had supported it and enthusiastically built up the Northern Command created as part of the campaign, but was then very quick to declare Russell’s campaign as over. Some in Belfast even suspected that the IRB itself had been reactivated behind the scenes as part of the campaign (and that it included both activists on the Free State and IRA side). The relocation of the IRA’s centre to Belfast was equally the manifestation of a twenty-year long northern lobby within the IRA that wanted the organisation to concentrate on removing partition over any confrontation with the southern government. It was thought that all the intrigue, rumour and calamity that seemed to whirl around the IRA’s centre in Dublin would be removed by relocating that centre to Belfast.

As events then unfolded in late August 1942, the now Belfast-centric IRA intended to make a violent response to the six proposed executions of IRA volunteers in Crumlin Road prison (one being Tom Williams). These were to be carried out on 2nd September and this response is often what is described as the ‘northern campaign’. In IRA parlance, though, it had no official standing as a distinct campaign. Indeed, when Russell’s campaign was formally called off by the IRA’s Army Council in 1945, there was no mention of a ‘northern campaign’. However, as part of the preparations for an as yet unplanned future campaign, arms dumps were being assembled at various strategic locations, some close to Belfast. The northern IRA was also using this window of opportunity to get control of whatever weaponry the IRA had available, which would allow it to plan and execute a campaign at its own choosing.

As posted previously, on Sunday 30th August, the IRA issued a ‘Special Manifesto’ that restates the ‘…National principles actuating the Irish Republican Army…’. Again, nowhere does this declare that the IRA is embarking on a northern campaign. The previous day Tom Williams five co-accused had been reprieved meaning only Williams was to be hung. The IRA still intended to make some form of violent response. Politically and among civic society the very active reprieve campaigns continued to try and halt Williams’ execution.

At one of those assembled arms dumps, on the 31st August, at Budore near Hannahstown, an IRA volunteer, Gerard O’Callaghan, was surprised by an RUC search party and shot dead (allegedly finished off while wounded, although there was no inquest or autopsy to confirm the details). Another volunteer that was arrested at the scene, Charles McDowell, appeared to be suffering from shell shock afterwards, such was the volume of gunfire from the RUC during their raid. This happened against the already grim backdrop of Williams’ imminent hanging.

When the RUC raided two farms at Budore, the full inventory of what was recovered is extensive but gives an idea of the weaponry available to the Belfast IRA and its Northern Command. It included eight Thompsons (plus magazines), eight Lee-Enfields, forty revolvers, fourteen automatic pistols, a tear gas pistol, two older pistols, ten revolver barrels, ten revolver butts, twelve revolver cylinders, three automatic pistol barrels, five automatic pistol butts, four automatic pistol magazines, two rifle nose caps, one hand guard for a rifle, a .22 sporting rifle, a round of .40 rifle ammunition, four hundred and ten rounds of .45 Thompson ammunition, eight thousand six hundred and sixteen rounds of .303 ammunition, one thousand three hundred and seventy-eight rounds of .45 revolver ammunition, eight hundred and one rounds of .380 automatic pistol ammunition, thirty-five rounds of .380 revolver ammunition, one hundred and fifty-five rounds of .22 rifle ammunition, forty-one 12-bore shotgun cartridges, a sling grenade, two gas shells, a 3 inch shell, seven holsters, five leather webs/bandoliers, twelve cotton bandoliers, cleaning rods and rifle chargers.

There were also explosive materials including three barrels of potassium chlorate, one hundred and twenty-five grenade cases, eight grenade detonators, three hundred and five detonator sleeves, two hundred and ten grenade detonator screws, forty tear gas grenades, fifty-one tear gas grenade fuses, a coil fuse, an electric firer, three galvanometers, a box of percussion caps, one hundred and sixty sticks of gelignite, four 3-lb tins of gunpowder and an additional bag of gunpowder.

lRA Vol. Jerry O’Callaghan

 

Over that same weekend, the reach of the reprieve campaign gives some indication of the breadth of public sentiment the IRA hoped a northern campaign might ultimately be able to harness as a source of political support. Ironically, many of those involved were not to publicly oppose the six executions of IRA volunteers carried out by De Valera’s government. But that reflects how much deeper was the emotional resonance of IRA action in the north over the south. There were Belfast and Dublin Reprieve Committee’s. Tom William’s solicitor, D.P. Marriman had tried to get an interview with the northern government’s Prime Minister, Andrews, but instead got a meeting with Grandsen, Secretary to the Cabinet. Marriman was accompanied at the meeting by the Dublin secretary of Irish Licensed Vintners’ Association who, in turn had tried to get ex-Belfast Lord Mayor Sir Crawford McCullagh to use his influence (Marriman also wrote to the Governor of Northern Ireland). There was sufficient support in high places for pleas to be made to King George of England and the British Home Secretary, plus a message by Sir Hubert Gough to Mr. Churchill, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Cardinal Hinsley and the moderator of the Free Church Federal Council saying a reprieve would be timely and appropriate. There were also pleas sent to the Duke of Abercorn from former political rivals. The National Union of Seamen wrote to the head office in England, the British TUC was asked to intervene.

IRA Vol. Tom Williams

The Dublin Reprieve Committee made a call for all businesses, shops, manufacturers, offices and transport companies to close from 11 am to 12 pm on the day of the execution. Those that announced their members would close included the Licensed Grocers’ and Vintners’ Association, the Irish Newsagents’ Association, the Irish Retail Tobacconists Association, the Fruiterers’ and Confectioner’s Association, as did the Dublin Trades Union Council.  The Committee also asked people, where possible, to go to churches and other places of worship to pray for the repose of Tom Williams’s soul (which many did). The 11 o’clock mass in the Pro-Cathedral in Dublin was to be offered for that intention. Similar calls were made in Limerick, Galway, Tipperary, Cork, Waterford and smaller provincial towns like Sligo, Portlaoise, Listowel and Portarlington. Some buildings, including public buildings, flew flags at half mast. One shop which did not close on O’Connell Street in Dublin had its front window broken. Most Dublin cinemas did not open until 6 pm.

In Belfast, pubs and shops closed for the day in nationalist districts. Transport workers and dock workers also downed tools for the day in Belfast in protest. Many factories and businesses close to nationalist districts also closed for the day, more in anticipation of trouble than out of sympathy. The RUC patrolled the Falls Road and other nationalist districts in armoured cars.

There was surprisingly little trouble in Belfast on the day of the execution. From 7 a.m., the Crumlin Road for a quarter of a mile on either side of the jail was closed by the police. Trams bringing workers to factories were prevented from stopping. Crowds, mostly women, began to gather at Carlisle Circus and the Old Lodge Road. The atmosphere inside Crumlin Road itself was dreadful. The republican prisoners had agreed to fast for the day and the Catholic prisoners were to attend mass at 8 am to coincide with the time set for the execution.

Out in front of the prison, by ten minutes to eight Catholics among the crowd knelt on the streets and recited the rosary. Women who had gathered at the relatively ‘mixed’ Old Lodge Road junction with Crumlin Road began singing loyalist songs like ‘Dolly’s Brae’ ‘The Sash My Father Wore’ and ‘God Save the King’ and shouted abuse at those kneeling in prayer. The RUC evenutally pushed the crowds back. At the corner of Cliftonpark Avenue and the Crumlin Road a group of kneeling women were ordered by baton wielding RUC men to to move on.

After 8 am when Williams’ was led through the adjoining door of his cell into the execution chamber. The Catholic chaplain had arranged that a key point in the mass, when he raises up the communion host, would coincide with the exact time of Williams execution.

It broke up many of those present.

Outside, as the crowds then moved on from the prison, a group of mostly young women with black scarves marched down the Crumlin Road into the city centre, singing ‘A Soldier’s Song’ and ‘Kevin Barry’. In Wellington Place, near the City Hall, the RUC charged and scattered the crowd (which by then numbered around three hundred), who, in turn, responded by throwing bottles and other missiles taken from dust bins. By the time things were calmed, two men and a few women were arrested. Two of those arrested, James O’Hara and William O’Sullivan got three months for riotous behaviour. All the while the RUC was intensely patrolling the Falls Road and other districts in armoured cars and broke up any groups of people that gathered to prevent crowds forming.

Under these circumstances, that was surprisingly little violence.

It turned out that the RUC patrolling in nationalist districts was largely the prelude to a massive wave of arrests in Belfast and elsewhere that began the next day. After the relative calm in Belfast, the RUC detained over two hundred people on the morning of the Thursday including both men and women. The RUC chased a number of people through the streets before arresting them.

Immediately after the execution, on the Wednesday evening, the IRA had mounted a botched raid on the border in Armagh, in which a number of Belfast IRA volunteers had participated. Outside Belfast a small number of IRA attacks took place in the days after the execution, mostly in the first 48 hours including attacks in Randalstown, Belleek and Clady (where two RUC constables were shot dead).

In Belfast IRA actions were almost confined to the same time frame but all appear to be relate to the continuing RUC raids rather than a formal response to Williams execution.  One young IRA volunteer, Gerry Adams (who was sixteen), was wounded by the RUC when he opened fire at them with a revolver in Sultan Street. Another direct confrontation between the IRA and RUC occurred in Leeson Street where a B Special patrol encountered an IRA unit. During an exchange of fire, Special Constable Cochrane, firing from behind the cover of an air-raid shelter, shot James Bannon who had been armed with a Thompson sub-machine gun. Bannon collapsed to the ground and the IRA unit had to carry him away from Leeson Street with two providing covering fire with their revolvers. Bannon was taken in an ambulance from a house in Sultan Street and later arrested, he had wounds in his arm and stomach. In Servia Street, a follow up search by the RUC after more shots were fired, recovered a revolver that had been dropped in James Lynam’s house. Both Lynam and John McNally were arrested, although Lynam wasn’t an IRA volunteer. Gerald Hodgson (Grosvenor Road) was picked up and charged with possession of illegal documents, while Joe Quinn and Tom Collins were arrested over the finding of a revolver, ammunition and three Mills bomb in Distillery Street. Patrick Tolan and Michael Morris were also charged with possession of arms. Given the number of arrests made by the RUC, the number of formal charges is low (most of those arrested were simply interned without charge).

A week later, on the afternoon of 10th September 1942, the RUC raided the publicity HQ of Northern Command at 463 Crumlin Road in Belfast. After a brief stand-off in which some shots were exchanged, John Graham and David Fleming were both arrested. The RUC recovered six revolvers and ammunition, a full print run of the September edition of Republican News (which the IRA pointedly had re-printed that night and issued the next day, regardless), a duplicator, typewriter and radio broadcasting equipment and more literature. This included booklets on the Constitution and Governmental Programme of the Republic of Ireland, the Constitution of Óglaigh na hÉireann, fifty copies of the Special Manifesto, a memo on the Hannahstown Arms Raid, a Report of Northern Command Convention held in March 1942, one hundred recruiting posters and headed notepaper entitled ‘IRA, Northern Command Headquarters, Belfast‘. There was no ‘northern campaign’ plan found.

Despite all the evidence to the contrary, the term ‘northern campaign’ is still used by some to describe this period after Williams’ execution, when there was literally a handful of IRA operations, no plan and no sustained activity. While, arguably, the loss of the dumps at Budore and the raids in the forty-eight hours after the 2nd September may have stopped a campaign from taking place, there was no operational plan for such a campaign beyond a general assault on the armed forces of the northern government as a response to Williams execution.

The next issue of Republican News, the first following Williams’ execution, stated that “…neither the passions of the people, nor the fiery demand for action of the Volunteers, will make the Army authorities enter into hasty or unplanned action.” This seems to confirm that there was no formal ‘northern campaign’ planned for the immediate future.

Militarily, in 1942, the IRA still lacked the depth of resources to achieve its goals. The main focus of its campaign by the start of 1943 was to generate publicity and win support for the cause of Irish unity and independence to feature in the political shake-up that would come with the end of the world war. The real target, in that sense, was Irish-America. There had been considerable pressure among Irish-Americans for any US support for the British war effort to be contingent upon concessions from the British over Irish unity. Even after US entry into the war on the allied side, this strategy made a certain amount of sense while the outcome of the war was still in doubt and there was the prospect of a negotiated settlement. It was only really in early 1943, as the Allies moved towards demands for an unconditional German surrender, that the prospect of an international peace conference receded. In that regard, the IRA’s policy, as such, by late 1942 and then in 1943, was not a ‘northern campaign’ but rather to attempt to stage set-piece operations intended to garner publicity with a view to appealing to a broader political constituency that might support the achievement of Irish unity and independence. By the end of 1943, though, the main footprint of IRA policy was dictated by the need to address prison issues north, south and in Britain and any thoughts of a formal campaign were pushed out into the future.

Diarmuid Ferriter on the schemes to award pensions for  service in 1913-24

Interesting piece on the various pension schemes by Diarmuid Ferriter in the Examiner. One of those whose experience he recounts is Tom Barry, who eventually had to have his application resolved, conveniently enough (for de Valera), by de Valera himself. The whole pension process being a form of auction politics in using pensions to reward or win over supporters and opponents. Here’s a selection from Ferriter’s piece on how Barry had to take on the Military Service Pensions Board over its decision that:

 …his activities during the revolutionary period did not merit the award of the most senior rank and grade for the purposes of payment of a pension (pensions were graded A to E depending on rank and length of service).
In December 1938, Barry wrote to the assessment board to submit his form, which claimed IRA service from July 1919 to the end of September 1923: “I would like to point out that I have not included what I would term the lesser fights, shootings or actions. I have only dealt with the major activities… I claim that I was continuously engaged without a break for the period mentioned. In justice to myself and the officers and men I commanded, I claim Rank A.
“Apart from the post of Liaison officer for the martial law area to which post I was appointed on the day preceding the Truce, by virtue of my rank as deputy divisional O/C [Officer Commanding] prior to that date, I had under my absolute control all the fighting organisation of active service units in Cork, Kerry, Waterford and West Limerick. My post was NOT vice O/C but Deputy O/C. The late General [Liam] Lynch handed me over all the Active Service Units about three weeks after his own appointment. My rank and activities also during the Civil War period entitles me to rank A.”
Days later, he wrote another letter to the board, suggesting “it is possible that the Board would be facilitated by a more detailed statement in deciding the issue of my rank” and also to make the point that, at the outset of the Civil War, “the ranks on 1 July 1922 were indeed very vague for any of the GHQ [General Head Quarter] officers”.
During his sworn statement before the military service pension’s advisory committee, Barry was asked was there a difference between deputy divisional commander and vice divisional O/C.
He replied: “Certainly there was a difference… Deputy Divisional O/C is one which ranks co-jointly with the OC, whereas the Vice O/C is only a staff officer.” In reply to the question about a later period — “You claim your rank at that period was Rank A?” — his reply was adamant: “Certainly. I would accept no other rank.”

Grave disappointment was to follow for Barry. In January 1940, he received his military service pension award of Rank B, which “I reject… on the grounds of both length of service and of rank”. He was livid that the board had disallowed him full-time active service on certain key dates, including the periods October 1919 to July 1921 and July to September 1923. “It is sufficient to state that my award was humiliating to a degree,” he said.