Next day a friend who visited me gave me a full story of the Drumcondra fight, or at least that portion of it which I did not know myself. Some he had learned from the newspapers, more from our Intelligence Department.
It seems that in spite of our precautions we were shadowed to Fleming’s that night, and later to Carolan’s by the very man we had seen outside the theatre. Their Secret Service was able to report that “Breen and ‘Lacey’ had gone to ‘Fernside.’” I have never since discovered whether Sean Treacy was actually mistaken for Dinny Lacey, or whether the similarity of the surnames had confused the spy.
At once every “G” man in the Castle was mobilised for the raid, but they refused point blank to go on the job. At this display of cowardice and mutiny the enemy chiefs were incensed; but they could not afford to betray their weakness by letting the news leak out that their whole detective force had refused to go on a raid. So the detectives were not punished for their indiscipline, and to cover up the mutiny the “G” men were ordered out the same morning on a raid on the shop owned by Mr. J. J. Walsh (now the Free State Postmaster-General).
Meanwhile the military chiefs had been communicated with and informed of the position. They asked “what kind of a job” it would be, and were told they might expect “plenty of gunplay.”
The military had the men willing to take the risk. Foremost amongst those who volunteered for the raid was Major G. O. S. Smyth, a native of Banbridge, and formerly a District Inspector in the R.I.C. This man had been serving in Egypt until he got word that his brother—also a Major—a Divisional Commissioner of the R.I.C. had been shot dead in Cork. This Commissioner was a notorious official who addressed the police in Kerry, and told them to shoot any person suspected of being a Sinn Feiner, adding “the more the merrier.” This cold-blooded incitement to murder even ordinary civilians led first to a mutiny of the R.I.C. in Listowel, and secondly to the death of Smyth himself within a month. He was shot dead in the County Club, in the heart of Cork city.
His brother, who had been serving in the British Army in Egypt, at once volunteered for service in Ireland, with the avowed intention of avenging his brother’s death. With him he brought a chosen band of men inspired with similar motives.
He was the first to be killed that night. With him fell another officer, Captain A. D. White. A corporal was also wounded. These casualties the British officially admitted, but we knew their losses were heavier. It was quite usual at that time for the British to conceal their real casualties.
But what saddened me most of all was the news that our faithful friend, Professor Carolan, had been fatally wounded too. The official report issued at the time stated that the Professor was shot by the first bullet that came through our door. This was the report of a secret military inquiry condemning the shooting of the officers, for it must be remembered that long before this the British had forbidden the holding of coroner’s inquests. Ordinary jurors were honest men and would insist upon having the truth, and would thus expose the whole Murder Campaign of the English.
Poor Mr. Carolan survived for several weeks. He was actually in the Mater Hospital at the same time as myself, though in a different part of the institution. At one time there were high hopes of his recovery. During that period he made a statement in the presence of witnesses which will be found published in the Dublin newspapers of October 21st and 22nd of 1920. That was the death-bed statement of an honourable man and a pious Catholic. If further proof of its accuracy be needed it is the fact that the newspapers which published it were not suppressed, as they would have been within half an hour were the report inaccurate.