Captain Padraig Quinn, Graignamanagh, was a member of Na-Fianna Eireann. He joined the Irish Volunteers on its incaption.

Captain Padraig Quinn, Graignamanagh, was a member of Na-Fianna Eireann. He joined the Irish Volunteers on its incaption. He went onto be an active member of Sinn Fein, and then joined A Company Fifth Batt. Kilkenny Brigade I.R.A. when the Fifth Batt. set up a Flying Column he was one of the first to join and was involved in all its major operations including the Coolbawn & Uskerty Ambushes. On the formation of the National Army in 1922, he joined with the rank of Captain, and became O.C. C’company 47th Battalion Waterford Command.
In c. 1923 he married Miss Pearle Mackey of Gowran, when his best man was Michael O’Carroll, O.C. Graig Comp. 5th Batt. and Flying Column member, who fought with him at Coolbawn and Uskerty Ambushes.

Then in 1936 when Gen. Eoin O’Duffy organised for an Irish Brigade to fight in the Spanish Civil War, he joined, and experienced action for most of the war. On a later visit back to Spain, together with his comrades Peter Cleary and Seomas O’Cuinneaghan, 1948, they received an audience with the Spanish leader Gen. Franco, and he was presented with the extremely rare gilt and enamel cross “Al Merito Civile”. Captain Padraig Quinn died on 23 August, 1980.

POSTED ON BEHALF OF :  Derry Sceal

1940: IRA Men Executed in England.

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IRA volunteers Peter Barnes and James Richards are hanged in Winston Green Prison in Birmingham for their involvement in a bombing in Coventry the previous year which killed five people.

(Aftermath of IRA bomb attack Coventry 1939)

POSTED ON BEHALF OF :  Irish Republican History & Remembrance.

The Greatest Hell by Bobby Sands

THE GREATEST HELL BY BOBBY SANDS

 

The Greatest Hell by Bobby Sands

There’s gaol and there’s gaol, where wretched souls

have been took and locked away.
There’s eight by eight tombs (concrete graves)

where you barely see the light of day,
Where in the winter, the long dark winter, the body

knows the piercing bite of cold,
And the wind (not draught) chills the heartiest man

and tames both brave and bold,
Where a man is forced to lie upon a mattress damp

and dirty upon the freezing concrete floor,
Naked apart from some filthy rags (the heart cries

out) the body asks”Dearest God! How much more?”
But there’s more in abundance for I’ve seen sleet

and snow come through the window bars and water

turn to ice,
And men in their dozens collapse with chills and

wetand tell you when they fell the cock crowed more

than thrice
For I’ve given more than passing thought to those

who sit upon opportunity (like vultures watching,

watching me)
And I know if it were politically expedient before,

the cock could crow again, set those poor men free!
Sleepless night preceded sleepless nights and

dreamless sleep preceded endless endless nightmare,
For day and night are perpetual wrought with hell

and there’s torture ,pain and torment everywhere
Time comes and time goes, but it really hasn’t went

at all, it’s trapped in here with me,
And if there were comfort to be found in these

dirty mutilated scared and filthy walls, I’d find

lots of sympathy,
But all there here, are contrasts, all evil and

cowards, cringing cowards beat men to pulp,
While prison doctors say “self-inflicted” (lick

your wound, my men) well, dare you call upon them

to consult,
They shear our heads and beards and with

disinfectant and the heavy brush, they wash out

every crack,
They try to scrub the P.O.W from your mind and

imprint the tag of criminal upon your back,
Doctors, Governors, chiefs and screws, there’s no

god’s amount of hypocrites to be found,
They who go to church on Sundays saying “Lord, I

love thee, Lord”as they kneel upon the ground,
And they celebrate the consecration of wine into

his precious blood, within that sacred cup,
Then they throw it right back into his face (when

only going their job) they beat the naked up,
Summer, two have gone and three more may well be

born and come to be,
But the sun will never bronze the ghostly skins of

the ghosts in this eternity
But the tombs will turn to ovens and a stifling

stench will cut the air.
From the decaying waste and urine, from the

putrifying rubbish thatlies strewn everywhere
Then they come, the pests and germs and crawling

things,to squat amongst the stinking mess
Creeping into your beard and hair, into the very

rags that you possess
And flies, Lice and Maggots breed from flies that

have already bred
(Stand up those who have rose in the morning, with

a hundred maggots in their bed)
The Brave, I’ve heard men say “would be more

preferable” (and perhaps that may be true)
For in this hell, you’re buried alive and there’s

nothing you can do,
“Will these legs ever run again, will these eyes

ever feast upon delight?
Do lovers still walk hand in hand, do the stars

still sparkle high up in the dark each night?
Is the foliage green or brown? Does the texture of

a leaf still feel the same?
Are there children in the morning? Will I see these

things again?”
Perhaps! Yes, Perhaps my eyes, my mind and heart

may live again to see,
But only when I leave this panoramic view of

darkness for the golden dream of liberty,
But do not misconstrue this, when I say “sometimes”

I care not what may be,
For torture is the devil I have faced, I care no

more just what they do to me,
And yes, there’s gaol, There’s gaol and there’s an

eternity,
and a hell that burns the very soul and flesh

But stand up those men who live in the greatest

hell,
The H Blocks of Long Kesh!!!

Marcella P.O.W —

POSTED ON BEHALF OF :  Derry Sceal

 

Francis Hughes pictured with fellow IRA volunteer Ian Milne in the 1970s.

Francis Hughes pictured with fellow IRA volunteer Ian Milne in the 1970s.

A true guerilla fighter – Francis Hughes (Ian Milnes Tribute to his comrade)
– ON Good Friday 1977, a car-load of RUC men who overtook and flagged down a car travelling along the Moneymore Road in South Derry, were suddenly confronted by armed IRA Volunteers, Two RUC men were killed and one injured in the ensuing shoot-out, and the Volunteers withdrew safely from the area despite a further shoot-out a hundred yards up the road.
– This typically daring operation was one among many during several hugely successful years of republican activity in South Derry. Which enemy forces correctly believed was masterminded by Francis Hughes. The RUC subsequently took the extremely unusual step of issuing a ‘Most wanted’ poster of three republicans from the South Derry village of Bellaghy: Francis Hughes, Dominic McGlinchey and lan Milne — describing them as their ‘most wanted men in the North’.
– Here, one of the ‘wanted’ trio, Ian Milne, now on the blanket protest in H-Block, describes Francis Hughes, the republican he knew both as a fellow activist and as a good friend.

[Pic not very clear]

POSTED ON BEHALF OF :  Irish Republican History & Remembrance.

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Óglach Sean Boyle (1st February 1975) South Armagh Brigade. Óglaigh na hÉireann.

Photo: Óglach Sean Boyle (1st February 1975)<br />
South Armagh Brigade.<br />
Óglaigh na hÉireann.

Óglach Sean Boyle (1st February 1975)
South Armagh Brigade.
Óglaigh na hÉireann.

POSTED ON BEHALF OF :  Irish Republican History & Remembrance.

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Óglaigh Marian and Dolores Price, Republican prisoners in Armagh jail in the 1970s.

Óglaigh Marian and Dolores Price, Republican prisoners in Armagh jail in the 1970s.
— [The photograph was taken with a camera smuggled into the prison and is part of a series of images given to Belfast Exposed]

POSTED ON BEHALF OF :  Irish Republican History & Remembrance.

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2 Feruary 1981) Óglach Liam Hannaway. Belfast Brigade, 2nd Battalion. Óglaigh na hÉireann. I R A.

2 Feruary 1981)
Óglach Liam Hannaway.
Belfast Brigade, 2nd Battalion.
Óglaigh na hÉireann. I R A.

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