Chapter 14. Black and Tans. Smelling out

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The IRA suspect a spy among them – RIC decide to put suspicion on innocent man – revenge on Protestants – horses for the RIC –

 

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RIC FROM GREAT BRITAIN

  1. Tall Northern Irish sergeant. Ian  North. Yorks.—————————————-

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2. Short Londoner soldier – blond sergeant aged 40. George Short. Anti Irish anti everyone—————————

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3. Davies. Benedict’s. Benjamin  David. Scotland. Not sectarian. Rangers fan—————————

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4. Watkins. John Watkins. Wales—————————————

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5. Tavi Moise. Octavian Moses. Southampton. Anti Catholic——————

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6. swimming pool guy from school. Alexander   Brokenshire. Liverpool. ————————————

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7. Major Neil.  Edward MacNeil. Geordie. Half Irish Catholic but raised Prod. ————————————–

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8. Col Olley. Oliver Sergeant.  Berks.—————————————————

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9. Mike Cunningham.   Mark Cunningham. Newcastle.————————————–

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10. Relu Marichenano.  Richard  March. Lancs. Catholic————————————-

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11. Richard chemistry pilot. Older officer. Richard Dixon. Suffolk.——————————

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12.  Louis Limtay. Born 1890. protagonist.—————————————————-

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13. Williams Bulkeley. William Bulkeley.

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14.    Blairmore teacher. Blair Teacher                  anti Catholic. Scots.——————————

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LOCAL R  I C

  1. N Lupton. Mayo. Nick Lumley. spy————————–

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2.  Anthony FitzPatrick. Midlands. Tony FitzGerald.

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3. Rick Forshaw. Wee North. Prod. Rick Forshaw. 

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4. Shaheen’s husband. Dubliner.  Sean Groom.  transferred—————

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5. O’Kelly. invalided out ———————————-

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6. Murphy. retired.————————————————

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7. Bill Moore. sergeant (W C C)

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8. Seamus Bolger (Spanish teacher) shot dead——————————-

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9. Donal   MacDonald  (Alec Scott) wounded———————————

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IRA

  1. Jim London. (JIM LSJ) ex soldier wants to be hangman. socialist. ———–

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2. Vinny Conlan (Vinny Cochrane) actor. brainy. inquisitive. ———-

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3. Gerry  Nagle (G Nagle) insurance company salesman. conman.

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4. William Hendricks. (Wesley Hendricks) builder. cousin killed in Easter Rising. ——–

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5. Peter Lynne (Pearse Lynne) teacher——– Arrested.

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6. Jonathan Wynn (Jonathon Roberts) painter and decorator. granny died in famine. hates blacks. ———————

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7. Pascal Harrington (Causkey)  labourer. arrested after riot.

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8. Alex East (Alex Asgari) labourer. Pal murdered by UPA.  Arrested ————

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9. Damian Walsh (D W) farmer.  arrested ————————–

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10. Roger Tooth (Roger Tooth) travelling salesman robber

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11. Robert Johnson  (J Roberts univ) chemist. Shot dead in grenade attack. 

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12. Laurence Dale. (aMpleforth ex soldier teacher) ex soldier. shot dead in grenade attack.

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13. Sean Tussock (Zhangir T) coal importer’s son

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14.  Niall Tussock (Nurzhan) coal importer’s son

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15. Henry Tussock (uncle Hal) coal importer

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16. Gabriel Tussock (coal importer)

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17. Charles Williams (Will Charles) solicitor’s clerk. Irish lang enthusiast——- arrested

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18. Benedict Thompson (B Thompson) solicitor’s clerk. GAA——-

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19. Kenneth Adams. ( A K ) farmer. religious reactionary——-

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20. Michael English (Magnus) labourer. tags along. feeble. becomes informer

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21. Seamus Simons (Simon I F ) barman————————-

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22. Henry Brannock ( Henry W B) labourer.

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DEAD LETTER DROP CHECKED

Limtay went to clear the dead letter drop. He was accompanied by several comrades. ”Just got to go in her – tell Johnny a riddle”. They assumed he was off to micturate. Some had noticed that Limtay often went off towards this ruined house. To allay suspicion sometimes Bulkeley went to clear the drop.

There was a handwritten note from the spy. ‘‘The IRA suspect there is a spi among us. I am scarred. Help me!”’

Louis checked that there were still pencils and paper. He had strictly instructed the informer not to have these about his person. The man had no reason to carry a writing implement or paper. If he were found to have some then questions would be asked.

Louis hurried back to his comrades. Lumley’s eyebrow was raised puckishly. Louis noticed this and worried that perhaps Lumley was putting two and two together.

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THE WRONG SCENT.

Back at the barracks Louis spoke to Bulkeley in his room. They has assigned Lumley the duty of cleaning out the stables dormitory. They could be sure that this man of doubtful loyalty was out of earshot.

”Good morning sir. How are you?”

”Good morning, good morning” he said bouncily. ”Everything is Si Garnet. And how do you do?”

”Sir, here it is” he handed the note to Bulkelely who read it in a jiffy. ”Damn. What do we do?”

”Evacuate him.”

”No can’t do that. Too risky. Plus he is an invaluable asset. We need our mole inside the IRA. Tell you what – let’s divert attention from him. Throw suspicion onto Condon.”

”Condon but he is not even in the IRA.”

”I know but he is in Sinn Fein – same thing almost. People call the IRA the Sinn Fein Volunteers. I have seen those captured green, white and orange flags with the words Sinn Fein sewn onto them. ”

”Sir, we owe a duty to that young man to get him out. He has performed sterling service. We must not let out man down.”

”Listen he is in the IRA – an enemy. We could have shot him. If the IRA does it so what?”

”No but he has changed sides.”

”Well what I am proposing to do is make the IRA think that Condon is a spy. They will kill him and then our man will be safe and continue to feed us information.”

”How on earth are we going to make the IRA believe that Condon is our man? We can hardly go and tell them?”

”Tell you what – get Short to go to work on the other two Walsh and what’s his name? Beat them up. We will spare Condon. Have the other two chaps in handcuffs pulled through the dayroom – let them see Condon out of handcuffs sitting down to a meal with us. We shall chat heartily with him and treat him to porter. Release him. Word will get around like a flash that he is a tout.”

”Isn;t that laying it on a bit thick? Will they really fall for it?”

”I know it may seem like over protestation. We have to make our point. I don’t think that is overdoing it. Maybe make a show of paying him money in public.”

”But then the IRA will kidnap Condon and torture him – then shoot him.”

”Correct. So?”

”But he is an innocent man.”

”Well he is innocent of being a spy for the Crown but he is guilty of abetting the IRA. In any other country a man who harbours rebels is shot out of hand. We will not kill him but the IRA will.”

”But we shall be morally responsible.”

”No it is not. If the IRA are brutes that if their fault and not ours.”

”But he shall be interrogated by them. Supposing they realise that he could not be a spy because he did not have the information that was passed on.”

”He might have overheard it in his house. Or there will have been the bush telegraph. Trust me when they torture him he will admit to being a pink elephant if the pain is great enough.”

”Sir, no no – this is just not right.”

”Well I cannot think of another way to save our man’s life.”

”Our man precisely. That boy has saved our lives and now it is our turn to save his. ”

”Limtay – I have to think of the mission. Personal feelings just have to be put aside. The mission is to hit the IRA for six. If our spy is rescued then the IRA is strengthened.”

”We owe him our lives.”

”I owe it to all our men to get them out alive is possible. That is more likely to happen with that spy inside the IRA than without him there. So he is staying put.”

”Sir, I must protest.”

”No Limtay. I have made up my mind. We are going to frame Condon.”

 

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SETTING UP CONDON

Short has his orders from Bulkeley.

They were brought out of the cell one by one and handcuffed to a chair. Short put his boxing skills to good use. Meanwhile Teacher asked questions and took notes. Only scraps of extra intelligence came from them.

The others sat down to a hearty meal. They had brought Condon out and taken his handcuffs off. He was staggered by their bonhomie. They insisted he drink porter. Some of them drank it too – heavily watered down in their case but not in Condon’s case. Condon was unaware that those others at the table were partaking of small beer.

Condon was understandably anxious and diffident when he was invited to enjoy such hospitality. He wondered whether it was a bizarre interrogation trick. Still it was more pleasant than a naked, blindfolded, handcuffed interrogation at the hands of Short.

”Go on drink up” said Bulkeley when Condon first refused a pint.

”Go on drink it man” said MacNeil

”No thanks sirs – I don’t want it.”

”Drink it drink it” said Bulkekely.

”We know you are not in the IRA. You drink you are innocent – you refuse and you are guilty” said Moore.

Condon reluctantly sipped from his porter. After badinage and chivvying he drank heartily. On an empty stomach the beer went to his head. He was ravenous and wolfed down his meal. They still insisted on plying him with drink. After the third pint the secrets were spilling out of him. Bulkeley was worried that the man might vomit.

Bulkeley was satisfied that Condon was sufficiently far gone. He tipped Moore the wink.

Moore then went to Short. He whispered in his ear ”Time to parade them past Condon.”

The two IRA suspects were led naked and in handcuffs down the stairs and into the dayroom.  They were not blindfolded. Just as they entered the room Bukeley cracked a joke and laughter rocked the room.

The IRA men were astonished to see Condon rollicking with laughter. He was so blearily drunk that he did not notice them. All the better to add to the suspicion. The IRA men were brought out to the courtyard and held there for a while.

Condon was released later that day. The RIC drove him to his house on a commandeered cart. Bulkeley shook his hand with an incriminating smile and pressed a 5 pound note into Condon’s hand. Condon was still sobering up and did not refuse before Bulkekely had jumped back onto the cart and was away. Being early on a Spring evening many people were in the street. Condon staggered into his house. Only then did the implications of receiving money and a cordial handshake from an RIC head constable hit him.

Bulkeley sent word to the Catholic priests that the IRA suspects would be held there for some time. The clergy were welcome to come and minister to the spiritual needs of their parishoners. Moreover, that the relatives of the two prisoners would be permitted to visit them.

In due course Fr Meagher and Fr Downy visited. Downy did not attempt to conceal his incandescent hatred for the RIC. Bulkeley insisted that Downy was patted down before being allowed his visit with the men. After the visit the men and the cells were thoroughly searched in case Downy has slipped them a weapon.

An RIC officer had been outside the cell for Downy’s hour of a visit. The men and Downy spoke in a normal volume most of the time. But there was also significant whispering. When this reached Bulkelely’s ears he was well pleased – it was presumed that the men had fingered Condon as the mole.

The prisoners’ families came to visit. Men were strip searched. Propriety forfended such indignity being enforced on women. Women had supervised visits with the men and no physical contact was permitted.

Bulkeley was satisfied that the message had been passed on.

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CONDON IS QUESTIONED.

The next evening Condon was walking home from work. On the main street of Ahabeg he was accosted by Hendricks and London.

”Good evening there Condon” said London with a grimace.

Condon looked behind him as he felt London’s hand on his shoulder and Hendricks’s revolver jammed into his kidney.

”You are coming with us boy” said Hendricks ”We need a little chat”

”Ah fellows – no there has been a misunderstanding” he spluttered. There was sheer terror in his eyes. They were having none of his protestations of innocence. He was bundled away

Kenneth Adams was driving a pony and trap behind them. Condon was forced onto the pony and trap. Many people saw him being whisked away. They put their heads down and hurried on their way.

”Not a word now” whispered London ”or you will be shot right now.”

Condon disliked the implication that the alternative was to be shot later. Should he jump off the cart and leg it? That might be his only chance. But could he talk his way out of it. He was innocent – he reminded himself. But that was not how it looked and he knew it. Before he could have a second thought of making a break for it London had twisted Condon’s hands behind his back and bound them tightly with bailer’s twine.

They then hooded him. The cart drove up away from the town and into the drumlins. They had been going a good 10 minutes when they got off the cart. The helped him off the cart and walked him into the woods for five minutes.

Condon was sat down on the damp ground. He was breathing heavily and his heart was racing. He still had his hands tied behind his back. Then the hood was lifted off. He saw his old friend Jonathon Wynn sitting in front of him.

”Jonathon! Boy am I glad to see you.”

The sulky look on Wynn’s face disabused Condon of the notion that the feeling was mutual.

”You are an English spy Condon aren’t you?” said Wynn coming straight to the point.

”I am not!” Condon protested.

”Condon – I am your friend from a long time back. Admit it to me and I will see what I can do to make these boys go easy on you.”

”What you mean go easy on me?”

”Not kill you.”

”Not kill me? I am an innocent man.”

”If you confess it will be exile. If not then they will take a different decision” he said with slow menace.

”Please Jonathon – you have got to believe me! I am a good republican. You know me. My father was a Fenian and my grandfather before him. Both grandfathers in fact. I hate the English with every bone in my body” he yelled in panic.

”Bullshit. You are spying for the RIC.”

”I am not” said Wynn.

Then London came over. ”This is not working” He pulled the wallet from Condon’s pocket. He then removed a 5 pound note.

”How do you explain this?” he asked pointedly.

”Ah well I don’t know” said Condon gasping in fear.

”You don’t know?” said London ”Well I know. That English captain was seen paying you. Five pounds . A lot of men would commit treason for five pounds. More money than some  men make in a month.”

”Well don’t you see – they just did this to make me look guilty.’

”So you admit that you look guilty?” said London.

”I know because that is the way they make it appear. The English are cunning bastards.”

”And you thought you were a cunning bastard.” said London.

”Then there is another thing. Walsh and East get beaten black and blue. You come home without a scratch. Why is that?” asked Wynn.

”The English are setting me up because I am a good Sinn Feiner and they want me dead.”

”We know there is a spy in the organisation and that spy is you” said London.

”What makes you think there is a spy?”

”Apart from Walsh and East being sent to gaol and you being released? Those boys are probably going to face the hangman and you get off scot free. Brought home by Bulkekely. He seems to love you. You got a little explaining to do boy?”

”He is just trying to get me killed because I am a good republican.”

”You are not that good” said London ” you are Sinn Fein and not IRA. You never came with us on an attack”

”I am not a brave man. I cannot be a spy.”

”So you consider traitorous bastards to be brave? Admire them do you?” asked London

”No hate them. Scum” he said. ”There is no reason to think there is a spy in the IRA.”

”Apart from the cover of our people being blown – the RIC raiding all the right houses and arms dumps. They know our every move. Now how would that be? ”

”I do not know any of this. I just let men hide in my place.”

”And when they talk you overhear or is it gossip from other people?” London inquired

”Please I never passed any information to the RIC”

”Right I have lost patience. This Mr Nice Man is not working. ” said London ”We are not wasting time on this bastard. You are going to admit you are a spy and tell us all you know. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. End result will be the same. Spare yourself the pain” said London.

The removed Condon’s shoes and socks. They held his legs began to pull out his finger nails. He was shrieking in agony. Then they got to work pulling out his fingernails. He whooped in pain but would not give in. He knew to confess to a crime he did not admit was to sentence himself to death. He reminded himself that his only hope of survival was in persuading them that they had made a mistake. He passed out and they revived him with cold water. They began torture again. He still would not give in. London and Hendricks took turns pulling his teeth out. They put lighted cigarettes in his ears.

Out of exhausation more than anything else he confessed.

”I did it. I am a spy. I sold you out. I told the ENglish. I did it” he moaned. He was in such pain that he wanted to die.

Hendricks and London had thrilled at their work. They thought they were heroes for torturing him. They had become bored of their duty. They did not bother to ask for corroborative information.

Adams said ”Shall we send for Fr Downy? Give the man his last rites.”

”This apostle of satan deserves no last rites.”

”Ah no” said Adams ”Every man gets a priest at his execution.”

”I cannot be bothered to wait for that” said London.

”Jim – no we must get Fr Downy. I will got and get him.”

”I am tired of this I am not waiting.”

”I will go and get Fr Downy” Adams ran off knowing he could not dissuade London. He hoped that London would delay and that Condon would be alive by the time he returned with Fr Downy. It was not to be.

Condon’s limbs had all been broken. He was carried down to the roadside after midnight. London took care to aim at the base of the occiput. A single bullet dispatched Condon. London was keen not to waste ammunition. A sign around his neck ”Spies and informers beware” was hung around his neck.

London then remarked ”Well we got a good 5 pounds from the bastard’s wallet. English gold. Should have been 30 pieces of silver. The makings of a good hooley!”

The IRA then got into an ambush position in the thick bushes 30 yards from the cadaver.

The next morning a labourer on his way to work at his farm came across the corpse. The young man nearly fell over to see the discoloured body covered in dried blood. The man went to the ditch to retch. He then blessed himself and hurried on his way. More and more pedestrians and then people in carts passed the corpse.

London and his comrades struggled to stay still and silent. London was glad that people were beginning to notice the cadaver. He sent a scout into town to see what the chatter was. The teenage boy came back an hour later to report that it was generally known in town that a man had been found beaten to death on the roadside. The body was so covered in blood that is seemed that the man had been killed by beating and not a bullet.

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A BODY ON THE ROAD.

Louis entered the barracks hurriedly. He had just been to the dead letter drop and found a note reading ”We got Condon. They say he is spi and is gonna die”. On the way back from the barracks and weathered faced old woman in a shawl had whispered to them ”There is a dead man on the road. There’s a dead man on the road. Condon. People say it is Condon. A mile above Shandrum” she blessed herself and passed on her way.

Louis had stopped every passerby he met and asked them if they had heard anything about this. A number admitted they had and two even that they had seen the corpse.

At the barracks Louis hastened to Bulkeley’s room where Bulkeley was shaving – he had got up late after doing night watch.

”Morning sir” he said in agitation.

”Morning Limtay. Something the matter?”

”Yes, sir. Condon’s body has been seen on the road. A mile above Shandrum.”

”Result! Our boy Michael English is safe then.”

”For the moment sir. Please I wish you would not be so flippant about a man’s death.”

”One Shinner is the same as another to me. Only Shinner I have a bit of sympathy for is our fellow” he said glibly.

”Sir so what do we do?”

”First thing we do is not collect the body.”

”But isn’t it going to scare people off helping us.”

”Yes, it is but it has been there a few hours I guess. I suspect they killed him and dumped him in the wee hours. No sense in recovering his carcass now” he said callously.

”But sir he deserves a decent Christian burial”

”I daresay he does. We are not a firm of undertakers! The IRA will be lying up in a bush there to ambush us – mark my words. I have heard from other head constables. That is a favourite ruse de guerre of theirs. So we do not go now. Maybe in 24 hours they will have got bored of waiting and they will move on.”

”So surely we go in by a circuitous route. Surround the area.”

”Limtay we do not have enough men to do that. Surround the area. They could be anywhere. They will be within sight of the body – maybe on one of the approach roads. I only have 13 men here and some of them are walking wounded. I have put in a request to replace the chaps who got shot.”

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TIT FOR TAT.

London’s men had been in position from before dawn to sunset. They were bored rigid and London agreed to call it a day.

Fr Downy realised that the RIC were not going to collect the corpse sought London’s permission to send people to do it. London consented and some undertakers came along and removed Condon’s body. The family did not hold a wake. The next day Downy said a quick mass for the departed.

The full time IRA men were bivouacing in the warm weather. With the money stolen from Condon they had plenty of provisions.

Seamus Simons a part time IRA man came along.

The IRA were gathered around the campfire singing rebel songs and passing around the poteen.

”Commandant” said Simons ”did you see this? ” He held up a copy of the Cork Examiner.

”No” said London in curiosity.

The headline read ”Five Catholics shot dead by Loyalists.”

London’s jaw dropped when he read it.  He then set his mouth in fury and quoted a rebel song: ”Pay them back woe for woe. Strike them back blow for blow.”

Hendricks sprang to his feet ”Bastards. Let’s go and kill ten Prods right now.” He was fuming.

”Ah no lads.” said Conlan. ”Some loyalist pigs have done this. Ulster Protestant Association or whatever they are called. The Prods down here are not involved in that. Reverend Playfair is a decent man. My cousin works for him. Says he is a fair employer.”

”I do not care” said London ”We are going to spill Protestant blood. They do it to us – we got to do it to them.”

”He is right” said Adams ”If we do not hit the Protestants back they are not going to stop. They kill our co religionists in the north – so it is our bounden duty to kill the Prods here. Besides they are heretics. They deserve it. Bring back the inquisition. This is a Catholic nation. The Orange bastards can come back to the true church or face the consequences.”

”Well said” cried Hendricks ”I say we go to the first Prod house we can find and kill every man, woman and child”

”Ah no” said London reading the article ”says here they only killed men. So we will only kill men. If they kill women then we will kill women”

”You are too soft. Their women are military manufacturing. Might kill a pregnant one – that way kills two!” said Hendricks.

”There will be no women of children killed” said London ”That is an order now Hendricks”

Conlan stood up ”Lads. No – we cannot kill Prods. It is not Prods are bad. It is the UPA is evil. Some Prods are all right like. Not all Prods are unionist even”

”Ah shut your trap” said Hendricks ”Isn’t your sister married to a Prod?”

”Ah she is she lives up in Limerick” said Conlan

”No wonder you love the Prods” said Hendricks menacingly.

”I do not love Prods. They are Irish like us.”

”They are not” said Adams ”Satan’s spawn. They are Cromwell’s men. Drive out the bastards.’

”That is right burn them out” said Hendricks ” We have done it before in the Land War. Burn them alive!”

”Right fellas we are off to kills some Orange bastards” said London ”Every man up. Fetch your arms”

”Let’s see if their blood flows Orange” quipped Hendricks.

”They are not in the Orange Order. There is no Orange lodge within 50 miles of here” said Conlan.

”How do you know so much about it?” said Hendricks ”You have special sympathy for them? Have you Prod blood in you?”

”I do not I am a Catholic through and through”

” I do not believe you – not for one minute” said Hendricks.

”All Prods are Orangemen so far as I know” said Adams

”I heard there was an RIC man in Kerry wanted to keep the Orange walk” said London

The men were checking their firearms.

London prepared to march them off.

”I am not going.” said Conlan.

London chose not to force the point. ”All right you stay and guard the camp.”

”Judas” said Hendricks to Conlan ”Traitor to your own race. Our Catholics brothers in the North need us to crush the Prods and you refuse to do your duty. Makes me sick. A Catholic will not defend his own people. Do your duty.. Coward!”

Conlan turned away. They marched off.

 

London marched them to an isolated cottage. He knew that two elderly Protestant bachelor brothers lived here. The perfect target it seemed to him. There were no witnesses nor anyone to intervene or raise the alarm.

The greystone cottage was quiet. A little smoke curled up from the chimney but London saw that the candles were out. Jim London judged it best not to burst in just in case the occupants might have a kitchen knife or hammer to hand. The IRA surrounded the cottage.

London then bounded on the flimsy wooden door of the Clifford brothers.

”IRA. Come out now.”

London heard stirring in the cottage. The Clifford brothers muttered on conference. London’s patience was wearing thing. He banged on the door once more. ”This is the IRA. We have your place surrounded. Come out now before we burn your house down ye Orange bastards.”

The two men – both in theirs 60s were wearing nightshirts when they slowly opened the door holding candles.

”Get out here” London grabbed them roughly. They were brought out and made to stand backs against the wall.

”Ye Orange scum. Your ‘loyal brethren’ kill our people in Belfast. Now ye shall pay the price” said London raging.

”Please sir” said Graham Clifford ”We are not in the Orange Order. Never have been”

”Bullshit. Ye will have cousins or some such in the Orange Order, Apprentice Boys or Freemasons.”

The look on Graham Clifford’s face indicated that London has guessed right.

Trevor Clifford then said ”But we are not Orangemen. I am on your side!” he lied.

”Shut up Prod” said London. ”Who wants the pleasure of shooting these scum?” he asked his men.

”Me! me!” said Hendricks with unseemly eagerness.

”Me too” said Adams ”Punish them for their heresy then God will forgive them for rejecting the true church”

London turned to the Clifford brothers ”Say your prayers.”

”Ah no” said Graham about to lose control of his bowels. ”I support ye. I will join your side. Up the republic!” he cried in desperation.

”Yes, up the IRA” said Trevor.

London stepped away from the Clifford brothers and looked at his men ”Shoot!”

Hendricks already had his rifle trained on Graham. He shot once and hit him the stomach. Graham clutched at his guts and bent double.

”I do not want him to die to quickly” Hendricks cackled.

Trevor cried out ”Graham” and grabbed his brother in a loving hug – trying to raise him.

”Shoot him Adams” said London.

Adams had his revolver aimed at Trevor but his hand trembled.

”Come on shoot him” said Hendricks.

”Ah no please. Mercy have mercy!” Trevor yelled in desperation. ”I will become a Catholic. Take pity on me!” he started to weep.

”Come on shoot him yo bastard” said London to Adams. He was growing more irritated.

Adams closed his eyes. His hand shook uncontrollably. He could not bring himself to shoot an unarmed old man.

”Either you shoot him or I do” said Hendricks.

”No. Please no for the love of God no” Trevor wailed like a child. It was so pathetic that is aroused Adams sympathy. He lowered his gun.

Graham had steadied himself against the wall but was bleeding heavily.

”Shoot or I will have you court martialed” said London ”You volunteered for this Adams”

The others chorused ”shoot him”

Adams closed his eyes and shot. His bullet his Trevor in the thigh. Trevor called out in pain.

”Bloody pathetic” said London. ”Waste of a bullet. Right Hendricks – you finish him off.”

Trevor sank to his knees in attitude of supplication.

Hendricks gladly shot him in the belly.

”Nice work” said London ”No more squandering bullets. Hendricks you finish off these Orangies with your rifle butt.”

”My pleasure” he said his eyes gleaming.

Hendricks walked over and lay about the men with his rifle butt. Adams cringed to hear the report of the wood crashing into the old men’s skulls.

A minute later Hendricks was finished and his rifle butt was sodden in blood.

Adams then said ” Commandant – maybe it does not look good that we killed them just for being Prods.”

”You are right. SOme will not like that. All right we will put it about that these old fellows were spies for the English.”

 

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About Calers

Born Belfast 1971. I read history at Edinburgh. I did a Master's at UCL. I have semi-libertarian right wing opinions. I am married with a daughter and a son. I am allergic to cats. I am the falling hope of the not so stern and somewhat bending Tories. I am a legal beagle rather than and eagle. Big up the Commonwealth of Nations.

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