IRA prisoners in Mountjoy Jail vehemently objected to that policy change and the following story of that particular period in our history, as recorded by Michael Traynor, was given to Republican Sinn Féin by Carmel McNeela, widow of Paddy McNeela and sister-in-law of Jack 'Seán' Mc Neela - but a bit of background, first :
Tony Darcy, a Galway IRA man and Officer Commanding of the IRA Western Command at the time, who began his hunger strike on 25th February 1940 and died on 16th April, in St Bricins (Free State) military hospital in Dublin, after 52 days on hunger strike, was sentenced to three months imprisonment for refusing to account for his movements or give his name and address when arrested by Free Staters at an IRA meeting in Dublin.
The POW's went on hunger strike after Meath IRA man, Nick Doherty, was imprisoned on the criminal wing in Mountjoy Jail and a request to transfer him to join his political comrades in Arbour Hill Jail was refused by the Staters. One week into the protest, the prison authorities made a move to take the IRA OC of the prisoners, Jack 'Seán' McNeela, for 'trial' before the 'Special Criminal Court' but he refused to go with them.
Barricades were built and D-Wing was secured as best as possible by the IRA prisoners and they were soon attacked by armed Special Branch men, backed-up by the Dublin Metropolitan Police. Among the casualties were McNeela and Darcy, both of whom were beaten unconscious and suffered wounds that were never allowed to heal.
This is the account of that period, by Michael Traynor :
"When Seán Russell became CS (Chief of Staff) of the IRA in 1938 he immediately appointed Jack McNeela as 'OC (Officer Commanding) Great Britain' with the particular task of putting the organisation there on a war footing and amassing explosives and preparing for the forthcoming bombing campaign.
After a few months of tense activity Jack was arrested and sentenced to nine months imprisonment. He returned to Ireland in 1939 and was appointed Director of Publicity. Jack was very disappointed with this appointment. He said he knew nothing about publicity and would have preferred some task, no matter how humble, which would have kept him in contact with the rank and file Volunteers. However 'Publicity' had to be organised and Jack threw himself to the job with zeal and energy.
After two months, out of nothing, Jack had his Publicity Department functioning perfectly. Writers were instructed and put to work, office staff organised, radio technicians got into harness.
Another big disappointment at this time for Jack was the instructions he received about the raid on the Magazine Fort. He nearly blew up when he was told that he could not take part in the operation, that HQ staff could not afford to lose more (Volunteers) if the operation failed. He was a man of action and wanted to be with his comrades in time of danger. He repeatedly requested permission to take part in the operation but without success.
But Jack was there, orders or no orders, and he did about ten men's work in the taking of the fort and the loading of the ammunition. He was a very pleased man that night, for he, like all the rest of the members of GHQ, knew that this ammunition was necessary to the success of the Army's attack on the Border, which was planned to take place in the following spring.
He was arrested about three weeks later with members of the Radio Broadcast Staff and lodged in Mountjoy jail. He was OC of the prisoners when I arrived in the middle of February 1940. Tomás Mac Curtáin was there, and Tony Darcy, who was a very great personal friend of Jack's, so was Jack Plunkett and Tommy Grogan.
I was about a week in jail, life was comparatively quiet, great speculation was going on as to what would happen to the men arrested in connection with the raid on the Magazine Fort. The crisis developed when Nicky Doherty, of Julianstown, Co Meath, was sentenced to five years penal servitude. Instead of being transferred to Arbour Hill, where other republican prisoners had political status, Nicky was lodged in the criminal section of Mountjoy Jail.
Jack, being OC of the republican prisoners, interviewed the governor of the jail and requested that Nicky be transferred to Arbour Hill on the grounds that he was a political prisoner and that it was unjust and unchristian to attempt to degrade and classify as criminal a republican soldier. The request was ignored. Jack and his prison council met to consider the situation : it was decided that a demand was necessary and with the demand for justice went the ultimatum that if he refused a number of prisoners (who were still untried) would go on hunger strike until the demand was accepted. A short time limit was set, but that demand was also ignored.
Jack, I remember well, was very insistent that the issue should be kept clear and simple. The hunger strike was a protest against the attempted degradation of republican soldiers. There was no other question or issue involved. A simple demand for justice and decency. Seven men volunteered to go on hunger strike and when the time limit [February 25, 1940] of the ultimatum expired they refused to eat any food, although tempting parcels of food kept arriving every day from their relatives and friends.
It was felt by the men on hunger strike that the struggle would be either a speedy victory or a long, long battle, with victory or death at the end. It was victory and death for Jack McNeela and Tony Darcy."
Barricades were hastily erected in the D-Wing of the jail. Beds, tables and mattresses were piled on top of each other ; all the food was collected and put into a common store and general preparations made to resist removal of Jack, their OC. A large contingent of the DMP arrived together with the Special Branch at full strength. The DMP men charged the barricades with batons ; the Special Branch men kept to the rear and looked on while the DMP men were forced to retire by prisoners with legs of chairs. Several charges were made but without success. Some warders and a few policemen suffered minor injuries. The governor of the jail came down to the barricade and asked the prisoners to surrender. They greeted him with jeers and booing.
After some time the DMP men returned, armed with shovel shafts about six feet long, hoping with their superior weapons to subdue the prisoners. After several charges and some tough hand-to-hand fighting the DMP again retired. The most effective weapon possessed by the prisoners was a quantity of lime, liquefied by some Mayo men, and flung in the faces of the charging DMP men.
It was reminiscent off the Land League days and the evictions. Finally the fire hydrants were brought into use and the force of the water from these hoses broke down everything before them. The barricade was toppled over and the prisoners, drenched to the skin, could not resist the powers of water at pressure ; they were forced to take cover in the cells.
I got into a cell with Tony Darcy and Jack McNeela. We closed the door. After a few minutes the door was burst open and in rushed about five huge DMP men swinging their batons in all directions. Tony, standing under the window facing the door, put up his hand but he was silenced by a blow of a baton across the face that felled him senseless. Jack was pummelled across the cell by blow after blow. Blood teemed from his face and head.
These wounds on Jack and Tony never healed until they died."
Day followed day, I cannot remember any particular incident, except that regularly three times a day an orderly arrived with our food, which we of course refused to take. We were by now nursing our strength, realising that this was a grim struggle, a struggle to the death.
We jokingly made forecasts of who would be the first to die. Jack was almost fanatic about speaking Gaelic. Most of our conversation while in the Hill was in Gaelic. Tony used to laugh at my funny accent. While he couldn't speak Gaelic he understood perfectly well all that was said and sometimes threw in a remark to the conversation. When conversation was general, English was the medium.
Jack Plunkett didn't know any Gaelic at all. We were in the best of spirits. Rumours filtered through to us, I don't know how, because we were very strictly isolated from the rest of the republican prisoners in the Hill. We heard that one of our comrades had broken the hunger strike at the Joy ; we didn't hear the name for a few days. The report was confirmed. We were inclined to be annoyed, but we agreed that it was better for the break to come early than late. It had no demoralising effect.
After Jack was arrested all the books he had bought (mostly Gaelic) were sent into the Joy. He intended to make good use of his spell of imprisonment. He kept requesting the Governor of the Hill to have them sent to him. After about three weeks a few tattered and water-sodden books were brought to him, all that remained of his little library, the others had been trampled and destroyed by the DMP in Mountjoy. Jack was vexed. He hadn't smoked, nor taken drink, and every penny he had went to the purchase of these books that he loved.
We were, during all this time, as happy as men could be. In spite of imprisonment and all that it means we were not all despondent nor feeling like martyrs. Everyday, we reviewed our position ; what we had done, our present state of health, the prospect of success. The conclusion we came to was that de Valera, Boland and Co had decided to gamble with us – to wear us out in the hope that we would break and therefore demoralise all our comrades and if we didn't break, to give political treatment to all IRA prisoners when we were in the jaws of death. The issue, as we saw it, was of vital importance to us, but of practically no consequence to the Fianna Fáil regime. We knew of course that de Valera and the Fianna Fáil party hated the IRA, because we were a reminder of their broken pledge to the people.
We were in a small hospital ward. Three beds on each side, occupied by six hungry men and every day was a hungry day. Every evening each of us would give the description of the meal he would like most, or the meal he had enjoyed most. Salmon and boxty loomed large in Jack's menu. About this time we began to count the days that we could possibly live.
The doctors who examined us, sometimes three times a day, told us that we had used up all our reserves and were living on our nerves ; they tried to frighten us, assuring us that if we didn't come off the hunger strike our health would be ruined. We all agreed among ourselves that the doctors were actuated by purely humane motives, although their advice if acted on by us would have been very satisfactory to their employers. After 50 days on hunger strike we were unable to get out of bed, or rather the strain of getting up was too great an expenditure of energy, which we were determined to husband carefully.
We did not see any change on each other. The change came so imperceptibly day after day. Jack, lying in the next bed to me, seemed to be the same big robust man that I had known before we were arrested, yet we each were failing away. The doctors and nurses were very kind. We were rubbed with spirit and olive oil to prevent bedsores ; all our joints and bony places were padded with cotton wool, for by now the rubbing of one finger against another was painful. None of us could read anymore, our sight had lost focus and concentration on material objects had become difficult. We were face to face with death, but no one flinched or if he did he prayed to God for strength and courage.
On the 54th night of the strike, about midnight, Tony cried out (we were all awake): 'Jack, I'm dying.' We all knew that it was so. Jack replied, 'I’m coming, Tony’. I felt, and I'm sure Jack and the others felt also that getting out of bed and walking across the room to Tony would mean death to Jack also. As well as I remember Mac Curtáin, Plunkett, Grogan and myself appealed to Jack not to get out of bed. But Tony's cry pierced Jack's heart deeper than ours so he got up and staggered across the room to his friend and comrade. Later that night Tony was taken out to a private ward. We never saw him again. He died the following night. A great and staunch and unflinching soldier and comrade ; oh that Ireland had twenty thousand as honourable and fearless as he.
The day following Tony's removal from the ward, Jack's uncle, Mick Kilroy, late Fianna Fáil TD, came to see Jack. Alas, he didn't come to give a kinsman's help, but attacked Jack for "daring to embarrass de Valera" the "heaven-sent leader" by such action and demanded that Jack give up his hunger strike at once.
Jack's temper rose and had he been capable of rising would have thrown him out. He ordered him out of the room, so did we all. It was the first time in 56 days that we felt enraged at anything. The brutal treatment of the DMP after seven days’ hunger strike was trivial in comparison to this outrage. The next day Jack was taken out of the ward. We never saw him again. A few hours after his removal we received a communication from the Chief of Staff IRA. The following is an extract :
'April 19, 1940. To the men on hunger strike in St Bricin's Hospital : The Army Council and the Nation impressed with the magnitude of your self-sacrifice wish to convey to you the desire that if at all consistent with your honour as soldiers of the Republic you would be spared to resume your great work in another form. We are given to understand that the cause you went on strike has been won and that your jailers are now willing to concede treatment becoming soldiers of the Republic. In these circumstances if you are satisfied with the assurances given you – you will earn still more fully the gratitude of the people – relinquishing the weapon which has already caused so much suffering and has resulted in the death of a gallant comrade.'
Jack had requested confirmation from HQ of the assurances given to us by Fr O'Hare, a Carmelite Father from Whitefriars Street, Dublin. Fr O'Hare had interviewed Mr Boland, the Minister for Justice in the Free State government, and received his assurances that all republican prisoners would get political treatment. Naturally we did not want to die, but we could not accept any verbal assurance so we felt that written confirmation by our Chief of Staff was necessary.
When the confirmation arrived Jack was out in the private ward. I was acting OC. We were reluctant, the four of us who remained, to come off the hunger strike, with Tony dead and Jack at death's door. Yet we had the instruction from HQ that our demands were satisfied. The doctors assured us that if the strike ended Jack had a 50-50 chance of living so I gave the order that ended the strike.
I believe the doctors worked feverishly to save Jack's life, but in vain. Jack McNeela, our OC and comrade, died that night and joined the host of the elected who died that Ireland and all her sons and daughters would be free from the chains of British Imperialism and happy in the working out of their own destiny."
On the 19th April 1940 - 83 years ago on this date - Jack 'Seán' McNeela, a 28 year old IRA Volunteer from Ballycroy in County Mayo, died in Arbour Hill Military Detention Barracks in Dublin, after 55 days on hunger strike, fighting against the Free Staters for political status.
Incidentally, a radio programme produced by 'Midwest Radio' highlighting the abuse meted out by those same Staters at McNeela's funeral was the subject of a complaint to the 'Broadcasting Complaints Commission' in that, according to the complainant, the programme lacked '...balance (and) impartiality (and) distorted the facts and (the) historical perspective..'.
The complaint was rejected. The complainant was a retired garda. More here...
'MUTUAL GOODWILL!'
From 'The United Irishman' newspaper, April 1955.
"I want to see a public man come forward and say what the 'Irish Question' is. One says it is a physical question, another says spiritual.
Now it is the absence of the aristocracy, now the absence of railways. It is the Pope one day and potatoes the next. A dense population in extreme distress inhabit an island where there is an established church which is not their church, and a territorial aristocracy, the richest of whom live in a distant capital. Thus they have a starving population, an alien church and, in addition, the weakest executive in the world.
Well, what then would honourable gentlemen say if they were reading of a country in that position? They would say at once, 'the remedy is a revolution.' But the Irish could not have a revolution and why?
Because Ireland is connected with another and more powerful country.
Then what is the consequence? The connection with England became the cause of the present state of Ireland.
If the connection with England prevented a revolution and a revolution was the only remedy, England logically is in the odious position of being the cause of all the misery of Ireland. What then is the duty of an English minister? To effect by his policy all those changes which a revolution would effect by force.
That is the Irish question in its integrity..."
(MORE LATER.)
'THOUGH THE HEAVENS MAY FALL.'
From 'Magill' Annual, 2002.
Dr Moira Woods (pictured).
Just short of a decade ago, a number of Irish families who had been subjected to interventions by two health boards, in matters concerning the suitability of the parents concerned to rear their own children, began a process of seeking an investigation into the behaviour of the doctor who had provided expert evidence against them.
The doctor in question was Dr Kathleen Cecilia Moira Woods, then attached to the Rotunda Hospital's 'Sexual Assault Treatment Unit' in Dublin, who had found comprehensively against the parents concerned, having purported to substantiate a number of very serious allegations against the families in question in the course of her practice as a medical specialist in the area of diagnosis and treatment of child sexual abuse.
Dissatisfied with her findings, and critical of her methodology, the families sought to obtain redress in whatever way might be open to them...
(MORE LATER.)
ON THIS DATE (19TH APRIL) 81 YEARS AGO : 'COOPERATING WITH THE OCCUPIERS'.
'19th April 1942 - France Vichy Government : the New Vichy Government, headed by Pierre Laval at the bidding of his German masters, in an attempt to bring the insurgent French people back into line with Nazi ruling...promised to protect the people from the Nazi Regime by gaining concessions...'
'The Vichy Government was born of defeat at the hands of the Germans in June of 1940. Military weakness and political divisiveness had combined to ensure a French defeat in only six weeks of fighting...France turned to the aged hero of Verdun, Henri Petain, to save France in this dark hour.
Petain took over and negotiated with the Germans to leave part of France unoccupied. The unoccupied part of France was ruled from the city of Vichy (famous for its 'Vichy water'). The new government had a much stronger president and brought more stability to the French political system. Petain was viewed as a veritable national savior. He promised to get peace with honor - or as much honor as could be gained in such circumstances...the Vichy Government was much more authoritarian than the Third Republic.
A secret police force, more restricted civil rights and less power for the legislative branch were characteristic. Vichy also cooperated ('collaborated') with the Nazis partly out of sympathy, but mostly out of intimidation (as) Vichy ruled, after all, purely at the pleasure of the masters in Berlin (and) as Nazi pressure increased, Vichy began to cooperate even more...'
'Pétain's Vichy Government was not a fascist regime and Pétain was not a puppet of the Nazis, at least he liked to think so – but the anti-Semitic laws were his own. Right from the start the Vichy Government set out its stall, actively doing the Nazi's dirty work with little interference: conducting a vicious civil war against the French resistance, implementing numerous anti-Jewish laws, and sending tens of thousands of Jews to the death camps.
Within six months, 60,000 non-French citizens had been interned in thirty concentration camps that had sprung up in France with alarming speed and efficiency...'
On the 2nd June 1944, General de Gaulle proclaimed a provisional French government - it was on that date that the Vichy regime came to an end. In August 1944, Pétain, Laval (later to be convicted of 'treason') and several others were taken away by the Germans in their general retreat from France back to Germany.
In France, during the summer of 1945, collaborators were hunted down and some were executed without trial. Pétain, who had returned to France, was condemned to death but this sentence was commuted to life imprisonment. Laval, along with other collaborators, was executed : 'Pierre Laval was shot today at 12.32pm after a vain attempt to poison himself had delayed his execution...when his advocates told him last night that General de Gaulle would not commute the sentence or the Minister of Justice order a retrial, Laval had been composed and cheerful.'
When this morning at 8.45am, Mornet, the Procurator General, came to him to inform him that he was to be executed at 9.30am, Laval was lying in bed. Without replying, he put his head under the blankets. His advocates thought that he had had a moment of weakness and one of them raised the blanket to ask him to master himself, but saw at once from Laval's appearance that he must have taken poison.
He was already losing consciousness. He had in fact drunk from a bottle of cyanide of potassium which he still held, but in his hurry he had not drained the bottle and had not shaken it before drinking. Immediate medical attention prevented his attempted suicide, and half an hour later Laval was again conscious...'
On October 15th 1945, Laval was shot in the courtyard of Fresnes Prison and Henri Philippe Benoni Omer Joseph Pétain, generally known as 'Philippe Pétain' or 'Marshal Pétain', died on the 23rd July 1951, aged 95, in Île d'Yeu, in France - he had been exhibiting signs of mental illness and would occasionally lose control over his bodily functions, and suffered from hallucinations.
He succumbed to senility two years before he died, and had heart problems and was unable to move without assistance - indeed, the second 'broken entity' he was to be associated with.
Had he practised his 'political art' in this State, he would have been labelled by those in Leinster House as 'a hero' and the 23rd July would by now be an 'official holiday', such is the level of 'vichism' we suffer from here.
FUNDS AND FINE GAEL'S LEADER...
Michael Lowry has so far been the focus of media attention about Fine Gael fundraising.
But the party's current leader, Enda Kenny (pictured), hosted a £1,000-a-plate dinner two days before the second mobile phone licence was awarded. And other guests say that one of the bidders for that licence was in attendance.
By Mairead Carey.
From 'Magill' magazine, January 2003.
John Bruton said - "I would have attended numerous fundraisers sponsored by units of the party. I would not have been involved in the selection of guests, nor would I have had any knowledge of the people who attended. I don't know where the money went."
Asked if it was common for ministers to hold fundraisers, he replied -"It has happened. The current Taoiseach has had numerous functions for his own constituency. I didn't have any such functions myself. I never had anything that would be personal to me."
When Michael Noonan was elected leader of the Fine Gael party in February 2001, he immediately banned all corporate donations. In a speech to the party's national (sic) conference, he said -
"Nothing has destroyed the integrity of politics more than the widespread belief and perception that those businesses who contribute to political parties enjoy an inner-circle status, an influence over policy denied to the majority of citizens which often works against their interest.
That perception is now so widespread that it is no longer possible to distinguish between contributions from those genuinely interested in democracy and those seeking to influence policy through their contributions. It is time we shouted stop..."
(MORE LATER.)
And sure yis might have gathered by now that we're back from Galway, where we had a couple of weeks
And aren't the Galway lads terribly shy altogether? The womenfolk in their clans must be the ones that wear the pants, so to speak, as they were a bit wary of us, more so than the Dublin lads would be, and any hopes we had of meeting a rich farmer were dashed.
But we had the craic anyway, as we always seem to do (!), and we consider it to be good practice for when we finally manage to get back to New York and see our pals in Harlem and the Bronx and elsewhere ; now them lads know how to Party...!
Thanks for the visit, and for reading,
Sharon and the team.
