LETTER FROM TIMOTHY ENRIGHT
(Nephew of Lieutenant Daniel Enright)

"Twas the feast of St Patrick
By the dawn of the day;
The hills of Tirconaill
Stood sombre and gray;
When the first light of morning
Illumined the sky,
Four brave Irish soldiers
Were lead forth to die."

So run the opening lines of Michael McGinley's ballad of the Drumboe Martyrs. On that March Morning in 1923, Ireland was symbolically united by that lonely but heroic scene in Drumboe Castle, Co. Donegal, for the four Republican soldiers who faced the Free State firing squad had come from Derry in the North and far away Kerry in the South. The hazards of the guerrilla struggle against the British and the Free State forces had brought together Comdt.- General Charlie Daly, Brig. Comdt. Sean Larkin, Lieuts. Tim O'Sullivan and Daniel Enright among the hills and valleys of Donegal, where their song of liberty and devotion to Irish Republicanism was blithe on their lips when the volley rang out which sent them to their martyrdom and inscribed their names in Ireland's Roll of Honour.

The tides of a whole generation have rolled over the tempestuous passions of the Civil War, the greatest disaster in Ireland's eight centuries of struggle. England had often tried to use Irishmen as pawns in the old imperial game of divide and rule. When she finally flustered her way through and imposed her will at the London conference table, a scar was left on Ireland's soul which could not easily heal. We of the present generation can only look back with increasing wonder and deepening respect at the men of the Irish Republican Army who, heart-sore, once again resumed the offensive for freedom; heart-sore because now it was to be brother against brother. How bleak the vision had become. No more the united and happy comradeship which finally brought the Black-and-Tans to heel; no more the carefree laughter along the hill tops, or round the welcoming fire in a farmer's kitchen. The soldiers of the Republic trudged back to seek new haunts and choose the hearthside carefully for the old haunts were known to their former comrades, and the old hearthside might have a welcome no longer.

Hammered at by a constant barrage of deceit and camouflaged treachery, many people were lead away from their allegiance to the aspirations of Tone and Emmet, Pearse and Connolly. But Ireland unfree could never be at peace, and when the clarion-call was issued once again, it found a ready answer in every corner of her four green fields. The Irish Republic rose like a phoenix from the ashes. Cathal Brugha fighting to the last in a Dublin street; Liam Mellows and Rory O'Connor falling before a firing squad; the men of Ballyseedy and the men of Drumboe; the gallant Seventy-Seven: they have a special place in Ireland's heart, for they fought the bitterest fight of all, and they were faithful to the end.

Mankind has only been able to move forward because, whenever the torch of freedom flickered low, there were those who, at the cost of life itself, stood forward and passed it ablaze to the next generation. They are the heroes who are not born so, but who reach heroism on the tide of circumstance; and Ireland has never lacked them. They have come from humble cottage and luxurious mansion; from the wild seaboard or the tranquil cloister of the university; men for whom soldiering is not a calling but a painful duty. Charlie Daly, Sean Larkin, Tim O'Sullivan and Daniel Enright would have been content to plough a quiet furrow in a peaceful Ireland, provided it were also a free Ireland, for to them it was a passionate truth on which there could be no compromise that 'Ireland unfree shall never be at peace'. In affirmation of this truth, they gave their lives. Speaking at the first commemoration ceremony of the Drumboe Martyrs, Seamus O Grianna said:

"This time last year Drumboe was the scene of a terrible tragedy. Four young men were taken from their cells in the grey dawn of a March morning, and their souls were hurled into eternity by a volley from a firing squad. Their relatives were not allowed to see them before they went to their doom. You have come here to stand on the spot where Daly and his comrades fell, to pay tribute to their sufferings and sacrifice for Ireland. We have come to send a message down to Kerry and to tell them that we will remember Drumboe as long as they remember Ballyseedy. Tirchonaill is rich in historic spots, but Drumboe will be regarded in years to come as the greatest and holiest spot in the country - holier than Gartan's lakeside where Columba was born; greater than Donegal Abbey where the Four Masters wrote the Annals; more inspiring than the Rock of Doon where Hugh Roe O'Donnell was crowned, because while those other places are associated with achievement attained when the tide of victory was with us, Drumboe is symbolic of one of those sacrificed which in the words of Terence MacSwiney, has the land unconquered and unconquerable".

No more inspiring epitaph could be spoken; and the passing years have vindicated the stand made by the Drumboe Martyrs. But Ireland is not yet a nation; only by helping her to take her place among the nations of the earth can we honour the memory of the Drumboe martyrs and the rest of her countless patriot dead. This is the task for which the present generation must work might and main. And it is a task that can be achieved, for the British Empire is tottering. "Guerrillas", "bandits", "terrorists", "rebels", are daily heard in the unctuous tones of a BBC announcer, or scream at us from the self-righteous headlines of the British press. But to Irishmen, they have a different ring. British imperialism has had to yield major concessions since the end of the second world war. India and Pakistan, Ceylon and Burma in the Far East; Egypt in the Middle East; and the African territories of Nigeria and the Gold Coast have all won the elementary right of self-government. Since liberation they have played varying roles in the world community of nations; and one of them, India, has become a major power whose favours are courted by both East and West. The vital energies and talents of these peoples, long crushed under the grinding wheel of imperialism, are given full vent, and the world gains. For every step imperialism is forced to take backwards, mankind takes two giant steps forward.

Ach ní bheidh an obair críochnaithe nuair a bheidh brat na Poblachta ah eitilt i ngach áird den dtír, mar ní bhei Éire saor go dtí go mbeidh sí Gaelach farais sin: go dtí go mbeidh teanga bhinn na Gaeilge le cloisint ó Chiarraí dtí Tír Chonaill, ó Chonamara go dtí Baile Átha Cliath. Níl de bhac orainn an obair sin a thabhiart chun críche ach thabhairt fuithi.

It remains for me to express the appreciation of the relatives of the Drumboe Martyrs to the Committee of the Co. Donegal Martyrs Memorial Fund for erecting the fitting and lovely memorial to the Drumboe martyrs last Easter, and for bringing out this volume which I have the honour of introducing. Though they came from outside her borders, the four patriots won a lasting place in the hearts of the people of Donegal.

Halifax, Yorkshire
January 1956

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