That Saturday morning we went out to Mrs. Fitzgerald’s in Hollybank Road, almost beside Fleming’s. Mrs. Fitzgerald was herself a Tipperary woman, and we had often before enjoyed the hospitality of her home. We were tired and sleepy that day so we spent most of the time in bed.
The following day we went to Croke Park, the headquarters of the Gaelic Athletic Association, and only seven minutes’ walk from Hollybank Road. It had been our custom for many Sundays before that to visit Croke Park when we had nothing else to do. We generally had a game of cards—our favourite was “Forty-five”—with officials of the G.A.A. who might happen to be present, particularly Luke O’Toole (the Secretary of the Association), Andy Harty, and D. P. Walsh (both countymen of our own) and Alderman Nowlan, the President. They were all good friends of ours, and gave us many pleasant evenings in Luke’s house when the matches of the day had finished.
I remember this Sunday well, because it indirectly led up to the fight at Drumcondra, strange though that may seem.
The stakes were never high, but to men in the position of Sean and myself at the time a few shillings seemed like riches. The evening I speak of the game proved unusually exciting; the “kitty” or pool gradually grew to a nice sum, and I don’t mind admitting that I eyed it jealously as it grew. Luck favoured me—even in gambling! I won the pool, and seldom was money more welcome to my pocket.
Now at this time our plans were not very definite. They were not altogether in our own making. Dinny Lacey had returned to Tipperary about a fortnight before, and we had promised to join him within a week. Contrary to our usual habit we had failed to keep our appointment, but the fault was not ours. It was due to the action of Headquarters.
I have already referred plainly to the attitude Headquarters had adopted towards us and our campaign from the beginning, but at this time—the early Autumn of 1920—a change was noticeable. The war was going on even better than we expected. Our men were meeting and beating the British all through the south. The world was looking on in admiration at our struggle, and in spite of torture, burnings and lootings the people were standing by us. It was death for the man who dared to “harbour a rebel,” but hundreds of men and women were every night sheltering our Flying Columns. In spite of an Anglicised Press the people had realised that we were right, that their cause was ours, that Ireland could never have peace or prosperity until we had driven the British out of Ireland. In our delight at the change, Sean and I were becoming almost reckless. The hotter the fighting the better and more perfect the I.R.A. became as an organisation. Headquarters apparently realised that the rank and file were getting too far ahead of them, and they gradually began to take a kind of semi-official responsibility for our actions.
In pursuance of this new policy, Headquarters had now actually planned a certain operation for us in Dublin, and it was for that reason we were unable to return to Tipperary as soon as we had arranged.
But the plans never matured and we were still kept dallying round Dublin. Still we had something to cheer us up. I got a tip for a race—a “dead cert” that was to come off at a meeting in the Phoenix Park. Luckier still, I had now got the money I won at Croke Park, to make use of the information.
All our worldly wealth went on the horse. And he won!
Now for a little of the pleasures of lite that we could still enjoy. The money we now had, meant wealth to us. Of course I did not regard it as my personal property—it belonged to our little “Soviet.” Whatever we had we shared, and never were there more real communists than we. Before we could return to Tipperary we had now to spend this money. Any day might be our last in this world. A couple of bullets might make us depart at any moment without having made our wills, and the thought that annoyed us was the possibility that our few pounds might provide the Black and Tans with the wherewithal to drink our health when we were dead.