"FOR VALOUR"
STORIES OF OTHER V.C.'S, INCLUDING MICHAEL O'LEARY, WHO UPHELD
IRELAND'S TRADITION OF GALLANTRY
In order to be able rightly to appreciate the honour and glory of the
Victoria Cross, it is necessary to know the conditions regulating its
bestowal. A tradition has been established in the Services, though
there is nothing in the institution of the Victoria Cross really to
warrant it, that the decoration is to be given only for a deed not
done under orders. The deed must be a signal one in every
respect--exceptionally daring, and difficult, of the highest military
value, particularly in the saving of life, and, with all this,
absolutely voluntary.
Nevertheless, it will be noticed that in none of the deeds of all
these bold, brave, and intrepid Irishmen is there the slightest
suggestion of seeking fame and glory at the cannon's mouth. "I almost
gasped," said Private Dwyer, "when I was told I was awarded the V.C."
Each of the others appears to have been likewise unconscious of his
heroism. He did not go and do what he did, thinking of being mentioned
in despatches or decorated. He was concerned only about doing what at
the moment he felt to be his duty. Fame and glory were probably never
farther from his thoughts than at the very time he was winning them
for ever. For the roll of the Victoria Cross, on which his name and
deed are commemorated, is imperishable; and his glorious memory will
shine as long as Great Britain and Ireland endure.
For sheer daring, contempt of risks, resourcefulness, and
extraordinary physical powers, a high place must be given to the
action by which Corporal William Cosgrave, 1st Royal Munster
Fusiliers, won the Victoria Cross in Gallipoli. It took place on April
26th, 1915, the day after the famous landing of the Dublins and
Munsters at "Beach V," when the survivors of these battalions were
advancing to the attack on the Turkish positions on the heights of
Sedd-el-Bahr. The first defensive obstacles encountered were barbed
wire entanglements of exceptional strength and intricacy, behind which
was a trench of enemy riflemen and machine-guns. "Those
entanglements," says Sir Ian Hamilton, "were made of heavier metal and
longer barbs than I have ever seen elsewhere." A party of the Munsters
were sent forward to cut them down, but the men's pliers had not
strength and sharpness enough to snip the wires. Then it was that
Cosgrave, a giant in stature and vigour--6 ft. 5 in. in height and
only twenty-three years of age--"pulled down the posts of the enemy's
high wire entanglements single-handed, notwithstanding a terrific fire
from both front and flanks thereby greatly contributing to the
successful clearing of the heights," to quote the official record. The
deed has a distinction peculiarly its own, for it is the only thing of
the kind to be found in the long roll of the Victoria Cross.
Cosgrave was wounded in the bayonet charge which subsequently carried
the trench. A bullet struck him in the side, and passing clear through
him splintered his backbone. He was invalided home to Aghada, a little
fishing hamlet in County Cork, where he was born and reared and
worked as a farm boy until he enlisted in 1910. Seen there, he told
the story of his exploit, as one of the party of fifty Munsters
ordered to rush forward and remove the entanglements:--
"Sergeant-Major Bennett led us, but just as we made a dash a
storm of lead was concentrated on us; Sergeant-Major Bennett was
killed with a bullet through his brain. I then took charge and
shouted to the boys to come on. The dash was quite one hundred
yards, and I don't know whether I ran or prayed the faster. I
wanted to succeed in my work, and I also wanted to have the
benefit of dying with a prayer in my mind. Some of us having got
up to the wires we started to cut them with the pliers, but you
might as well try to cut the round tower at Cloyne with a pair
of lady's scissors. The wire was of great strength, strained
like fiddle strings, and so full of spikes that you could not
get the pliers between. Heavens! I thought we were done; I threw
the pliers from me. 'Pull them up!' I roared to the fellows; and
I dashed at one of the upright posts, put my arms round it, and
heaved and strained at it until it came up in my arms, the same
as you would lift a child.
"I believe there was great cheering when they saw what I was at,
but I only heard the scream of bullets and saw dust rising all
round me. Where they hit I do not know, or how many posts I
pulled up. I did my best, and the boys that were with me did
every bit as good as myself.
"When the wire was down the rest of the lads came through like
devils and reached the trenches. We won about 200 yards' length
by twenty yards deep and 700 yards from the shore. We met a
brave, honourable foe in the Turks, and I am sorry that such
decent fighting men were brought into the row by such dirty
tricksters as the Germans."
In Sir Ian Hamilton's despatch describing the storming of "Beach
W"--close to "Beach V"--by the Lancashire Fusiliers, there are some
striking passages relating to men of the battalion who rushed forward
to cut passages through the entanglements. "Again the heroic
wire-cutters came out. Through glasses they could be seen quietly
snipping away under a hellish fire, as if they were pruning a
vineyard." For his gallantry in this undertaking Private William
Keneally, one of the many Irishmen in the Lancashires, got the
Victoria Cross. The distinction is greatly enhanced by the fact that
Keneally was selected by his comrades in the ranks as the one among
them best entitled to it. The official record says:--
"On April 25th, 1915, three companies and the Headquarters of
the 1st Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers, in effecting a landing
on the Gallipoli Peninsula to the west of Cape Helles, were met
by a very deadly fire from hidden machine-guns which caused a
great number of casualties. The survivors, however, rushed up to
and cut the wire entanglements, notwithstanding the terrific
fire from the enemy, and, after overcoming supreme difficulties,
the cliffs were gained and the position maintained. Amongst the
many very gallant officers and men engaged in this most
hazardous undertaking, Captain Willis, Sergeant Richards, and
Private Keneally have been selected by their comrades as having
performed the most signal arts of bravery and devotion to duty."
Precedents for the choice of a comrade by his fellows to wear the V.C.
on their behalf are to be found in the records of the Indian Mutiny,
and it is an interesting fact that in each case the man chosen was an
Irishman serving in an English or Scottish regiment. In September,
1857, the Cross was awarded to Private John Divane, of the 60th King's
Royal Rifles, for successfully heading a charge against the trenches
at Delhi. Divane was elected by the privates of his regiment for the
distinction. In November of the same year Lance-Corporal J. Dunley,
93rd Highlanders, the first man of the regiment to enter the Secundra
Bagh with Captain Burroughs, whom he supported against heavy odds, was
similarly chosen by his comrades for the V.C., and likewise Lieutenant
A.K. French, 53rd Regiment, who showed distinguished gallantry on the
same occasion, was elected by his brother officers to wear the
decoration.
Keneally was born in Parnell Street, Wexford, in 1886. His father,
Colour-Sergeant John Stephen Keneally, served for twenty-four years in
the Royal Irish Regiment. In 1890 Keneally's parents removed to Wigan.
The father got work as a miner in the Wigan coalfield, and the son, at
the age of thirteen, started in the same life as a pit-boy. William
afterwards joined the Army, served for six years, and on returning to
civil life worked again in the pits. On the outbreak of war he
rejoined his old regiment, the Lancashire Fusiliers, and was then one
of five brothers serving with the Colours. The brave fellow did not
survive to enjoy the honour of having the V.C. pinned to his breast by
the King. He was wounded on July 29th, 1915, in the course of an
attack on a Turkish position, which was repulsed, and was never seen
afterwards. "It is a matter of sincere regret to me," says the King in
a kindly letter to the hero's father, "that the death of Private
Keneally deprived me of the pride of personally conferring on him the
Victoria Cross--the greatest of all military distinctions."
For quite a different achievement the Victoria Cross was awarded to
Sergeant John Hogan, 2nd Battalion Manchester Regiment, an Irish lad
who was brought up at Oldham, Lancashire. On October 29th, 1914, Hogan
and Second Lieutenant Leach (who also got the V.C.) recaptured
unassisted a trench that had been lost by the regiment. Two attempts
to retake the trench in force having been repulsed, Leach and Hogan
voluntarily set out one morning to try to recover it themselves. The
trench was about sixty yards' distance from the nearest German trench.
It did not run in a straight line, but took a zig-zag course,
consisting of a number of traverses in this form:--
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| | | | | |
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+------+ +------+ +------+
Though it was held by the Germans, its connection with the other
British trenches was not cut off. Starting at one end of the trench,
Leach and Hogan drove the Germans out of each traverse, one after the
other, by putting their right hands round each corner and firing their
revolvers, while they kept their bodies concealed. It happened that the
Germans were armed only with rifles, and those weapons they could not
use without exposing themselves to the revolver fire of their
attackers. Thus favoured, Leach and Hogan advanced by crawling on their
stomachs, capturing corner after corner, and section after section,
until they got near to the other end of the trench, when they heard a
voice exclaiming in English, "Don't shoot; the Germans want to
surrender." The speaker was one of their own men, who had been taken
prisoner by the Germans when they captured the trench. Altogether Leach
and Hogan killed eight Germans, wounded twenty, and took sixteen
prisoners. It was a peculiar exploit, cleverly planned, and daringly
executed. The story of how Private John Lynn, 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers,
a County Tyrone man, won the V.C., is inspiring for its bravery and
endurance. Near Ypres on May 2nd, 1915, as the Germans were advancing
behind their wave of asphyxiating gas, Private Lynn, although almost
overcome by the deadly fumes, handled his machine-gun with very great
effect against the enemy, and when he could not see them he moved his
gun higher up on the parapet, which enabled him to bring even more
effective fire to bear, and eventually checked any further advance. The
great courage displayed by this soldier had a fine effect on his
comrades in the very trying circumstances. He died the following day
from the effects of gas poisoning.
"It's a long, long way to Tipperary," says the soldier's favourite
song. But, long as it is, Sergeant James Somers, 1st Royal
Inniskilling Fusiliers, brought there the Victoria Cross from
Gallipoli, when he came home invalided to stay with his parents at
Cloughjordan, in September, 1915. Naturally, the Tipperary village was
decorated, and the hero was received by Tipperary crowds, with bands
and banners; and, better still, War Loan stock to the value of L240,
subscribed for by as many as 1,500 of the local Tipperary community,
was presented to him at a public meeting by Major-General Friend,
Commander of the Forces in Ireland. At the meeting Mr. B. Trench,
secretary to the reception committee, made the remarkable statement
that out of a total of eighty Victoria Crosses then awarded for
services in the war eighteen had been won by Irishmen. "If the people
of Great Britain had done as well," said Mr. Trench, "they ought,
according to their population, to have received 220 Victoria Crosses."
Sergeant Somers is a well-built, good-looking young fellow of
twenty-one, full of high spirits, and was boyishly delighted with all
the attention paid to him in Ireland. His father was for several years
sexton in the parish church, Belturbet, county Cavan; and he himself
was a footman in Bantry House, county Cork, before he joined the
Inniskilling Fusiliers in 1912. Like Dwyer, of the East Surreys, he
got the V.C. for a daring bombing exploit. The official record of the
award is as follows:--
"For most conspicuous bravery. On the night of July 1st-2nd,
1915, in the southern zone of the Gallipoli Peninsula, where,
owing to hostile bombing, some of our troops had retired from a
sap, Sergeant Somers remained alone on the spot until a party
brought up bombs. He then climbed over into the Turkish trench,
and bombed the Turks with great effect. Later he advanced into
the open, under heavy fire, and held back the enemy by throwing
bombs into their flank until a barricade had been established.
During this period he frequently ran to and from our trenches to
obtain fresh supplies of bombs. By his gallantry and coolness
Sergeant Somers was largely instrumental in effecting the
recapture of portion of our trench which had been lost."
Recounting his experiences, Sergeant Somers said that the Turks
advanced to the trenches and compelled the Gurkhas and the
Inniskillings to retire. He alone stopped in the trench, refusing to
leave. He shot many Turks with his revolver, killed about fifty with
bombs, and forced them to retire. The enemy, however, rushed into a
sap trench, and he commenced to bombard them out of it, but twice he
failed. Just before dawn he stole away for the purpose of getting men
up to the trench to occupy it. Some of the officers said it was
impossible to put the Turks out; but Somers returned to the position,
taking with him a supply of grenades, under rifle and Maxim-gun fire,
and eventually succeeded in bombing the Turks out of the sap trench.
He had one narrow escape on the morning of July 2nd--a splinter struck
him across the spine, but he rained in the bombs until he fell from
loss of blood and fatigue in the afternoon. By that time, however, the
trench had been recaptured. The Turks retreated crying, "Allah!
Allah!" and "We gave them La La," said Somers with great glee. Somers
tells all about it with great enthusiasm, and constantly recurring in
his stories is the phrase, "I did my duty," or "General Sir Ian
Hamilton told me when he made me King's Sergeant on the field that I
did my duty"; and again, "I want to get back to duty." That was the
main idea in this young Irishman's mind.
"For helping to bring the guns into action under heavy fire at
Nery, near Compiegne, on September 1st, 1914, and, while
severely wounded, remaining with them until all ammunition was
exhausted, although he had been ordered to retire to cover."
This is the brief and cold official account of the thrilling deed for
which the Victoria Cross was given to Sergeant David Nelson, L
Battery, Royal Horse Artillery, a native of Derraghlands, Stranooden,
county Monaghan. In all retreats the artillery is seriously
handicapped, and it was so with the British artillery in the retreat
from Mons. Still, they made many a gallant fight. One which stands out
most conspicuously is that of L Battery, which fought for hours with
one gun, and although outnumbered eight to one, succeeded in silencing
the German artillery.
The battery of six guns had camped for the night by a farmhouse. At
dawn, as they were watering their horses before continuing the
retirement, they were shelled by a German battery of eight guns posted
on a height overlooking the farm, not 700 yards away. This hill had
been evacuated during the night by French cavalry without having given
notice to the British. So fierce and destructive was the fire of the
Germans that four guns of the L Battery were disabled, and many of the
men and officers were stricken down within a few minutes. The
survivors rushed to the two other guns and brought them into action.
The fifth gun was quickly silenced by the killing of its entire
detachment. It was the sixth gun, served by Nelson and three other
men--Sergeant-Major Dornell, Gunner Derbyshire, and Driver
Osborne--that, despite all the painful and distracting incidents
happening in the farmyard, was worked with such speed and cool and
deadly accuracy that the Germans were compelled to depart. The British
gun was crippled and almost completely shattered, but it was saved.
All the heroic gunners were badly wounded, and all were decorated.
Nelson had one of his ribs so crushed in that it pressed upon his
right lung. On his recovery he was promoted to a second lieutenancy.
The official record of the services of the 1st Canadian Division in
Flanders shows that the late Company Sergeant-Major William Hall, 8th
Canadian Infantry, who won the Victoria Cross near Ypres, was a native
of Belfast. Hall was awarded the coveted distinction in the following
circumstances: "On April 24th, 1915, in the neighbourhood of Ypres,
when a wounded man who was lying some fifteen yards from the trench
called for help, Company Sergeant-Major Hall endeavoured to reach him
in the face of a very heavy enfilade fire which was being poured in by
the enemy. The first attempt failed, and a non-commissioned officer
and a private soldier who were attempting to give assistance were both
wounded. Company Sergeant-Major Hall then made a second most gallant
attempt, and was in the act of lifting up the wounded man to bring him
in when he fell mortally wounded in the head." Sir Max Aitken, M.P.,
who has written the official record, states that Hall was originally
from Belfast, but his Canadian home was in Winnipeg. He joined the 8th
Battalion at Valcartier, Quebec, in August, 1914, as a private.
Finally we come to the epic of Michael O'Leary, of the Irish Guards,
which remains the finest and most amazing feat of the war. I remember
well that afternoon of Friday, February 19th, 1915, when the
announcement of the award of the Victoria Cross to O'Leary was given
to the public. It was sent out in the afternoon, so that it first
appeared in the evening newspapers. The record was one of a dozen,
each of which told a tale of thrilling adventure. Yet all the London
evening papers with one accord seized upon the exploit of O'Leary's
capture, single-handed, of two enemy barricades--thus saving his
comrades from being mowed down by a machine-gun--and killing eight
Germans in the process, as the "splash" line for their contents bills.
"How Michael O'Leary Won the V.C." "How Michael O'Leary, V.C., Kills
Eight Germans and Takes Two Barricades." "The Wonderful Story of
Michael O'Leary, V.C." Thus the streets of London flashed and
resounded with the name of Michael O'Leary--that name which sounds so
musically, and so irresistibly suggests the romance and dare-devildom
of the Irish race, and under its spell people rushed to read the story
of his deed. What appealed to the imagination was the touch of
strangeness and fantasy in the exploit. How curious it all is, when
one comes to think of it! As one is walking along a London street a
name suddenly emerges out of the unknown, and lo! it is fixed in the
memory with a halo for ever.
It was in the brickfields at Cuinchy, on February 1st, 1915, that
Michael O'Leary won his enduring fame. Taken by surprise, the
Coldstream Guards had lost a trench and failed to recapture it. The
Irish Guards, who were in reserve, were told to have a try. No. 1
Company, in which O'Leary was Lance-Corporal, formed the storming
party. They were only too glad of any excuse to get out of the mud and
slush of their trenches. Before the main body advanced across the open
ground--a brickfield, with here and there a stack of bricks--O'Leary,
who, in fact, was off duty, and need not have joined in the attack at
all, slipped away to the left towards a railway cutting. He had set
out spontaneously on his own initiative to give the enemy a bit of a
surprise. What would be the nature of the surprise, O'Leary himself
did not quite know at the moment. It would all depend upon the
development of the situation and the actual circumstances when the
time came for him to decide. But for days before as he lay in the
trenches he had brought his powers of observation into play, and
having grasped all the essential details of the geographical
situation and the military position, he reasoned out a plan with
himself.
According to that plan, the first thing he had to do was to get into
the railway cutting on his left. This he did with all speed, and very
soon afterwards he re-ascended to the top of the embankment and found
himself almost in a direct line with the first German barricade, one
of the brick stacks, about twenty or thirty yards square, and about
twenty feet high and solid. With five shots he killed as many of the
German defenders. Then seeing the headlong and irresistible dash of
his comrades across the field he came to the conclusion that the
remaining Germans had no chance of escape. So he quickly disappeared
down the railway cutting once more, and again came up to the top on
the right front of the second German barricade. Here there was a
machine-gun. In fact the officer in command had just slewed round the
gun on the Irish Guards still busy at the first barricade, and had his
finger on the button to let go the hail of lead upon them when he was
dropped by a bullet from O'Leary's rifle. Michael also shot two other
Germans, and the remaining five surrendered by putting up their hands
to the deadly, unerring marksman on the embankment.
Thus it happened that when the No. 1 Company of the Irish Guards got
to the second barricade without a single casualty, instead of, as they
had expected, serious loss of life, their surprise was turned into
amazement on seeing O'Leary there before them in sole and complete
possession of the place, with a German machine-gun and five prisoners
as spoil. "How the divil did you get here, Mike!" Such was the
exclamation of O'Leary's intimate comrades. Mike only realised that he
had done something of importance and value, as well as of splendid
gallantry, when officers and men crowded round him to shake his hand.
The commanding officer, Major the Hon. J.F. Trefusis, promoted him
full sergeant on the field.
There must always be an element of chance or luck in such an abnormal
achievement. But it is the man that is the thing. All the good fortune
in the world would be without avail if the man were not of an
exceptional type, possessed of perfect courage, marvellous
self-confidence, and supreme resolution. Not less wonderful than what
O'Leary did was the deliberate and efficient way in which he
accomplished it. He knew that death might come at any moment. But he
put the fear immediately aside lest it might in the least unnerve him
in the pursuit of his purpose. Everything showed that he was in full
possession of all his faculties.
What the United Kingdom thought of the deed was expressed by London in
the tumultuous welcome which it gave to Sergeant Michael O'Leary,
when, in his war-stained uniform, he drove through the streets with
Mr. T.P. O'Connor, to speak in Hyde Park on Saturday afternoon, July
10th, 1915. There was terrific crushing and rushing on the part of
hundreds of thousands of people eager to catch a glimpse of the
hero--a slim youth of twenty-five, in khaki, with fair hair, and a
pleasant smile lighting up his blue eyes and freckled face. No wonder,
indeed. As Conan Doyle, the novelist, remarked: "No writer of fiction
would dare to fasten such an achievement on any of his characters."
And only a few years before Michael was helping to mind his father's
stock on a little farm at Inchigeela, County Cork. So they made him an
officer, Lieutenant O'Leary, of one of the Tyneside Irish battalions
of the Northumberland Fusiliers. And rightly so, for he proved himself
to be possessed of all the qualities of a leader--observation and
reasoning, quick to receive impressions, and quick to act upon
them--resource, daring, and yet discretion, coolness and self-mastery
in an enterprise of difficulty and danger. The two most damnable
drawbacks on the field of battle are unpreparedness and slowness in
officers, and stolidness and lack of initiative in men.
Well, Michael himself was never able fully to appreciate the gallantry
of his action. What could be more modest than his letter to his father
and mother on the subject:--
"Dear Parents--I know you will be glad to hear that I am awarded the
Victoria Cross for conspicuous gallantry in the field. Hoping all are
well, as I myself am in the best of health. From your fond
son.--Michael."
There is the same simplicity, with a touch of humour, in the remark he
made when being seen off at Victoria Station after all his
glorification in London:--"It's glad I am to be going back to the
trenches for a bit of a rest." And the only man in the whole wide
world to show any desire to disparage Michael's exploit was Michael's
father himself. The old man was asked if he was surprised at his son's
bravery. "Surprised, is it!" he exclaimed. "What I am surprised at is
that he didn't do more. Sure often myself I laid out ten Irishmen with
a stick coming from Macroom Fair when I was a gossoon like
Mick--Irishmen, mind you, an' stout hearty lads at that same. An' it
was rather a bad fist Mick made of it that he could kill only eight
Germans, and he having a rifle and bayonet." How is that for the old
Irish spirit?
THE END
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY AND SONS, LTD.
BRUNSWICK STREET STAMFORD STREET, S.E. AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.
_Mr. John E. Redmond, M.P., and Mr. R. Barry O'Brien have issued an
address in behalf of the Irish Nuns of Ypres, some extracts from which
we publish below._
THE IRISH NUNS OF YPRES
AN APPEAL
The story of the Irish Nuns of Ypres is bound up with the story
of Ireland. They represent not only a religious Order, but the
national ideal as well. They stand for Faith and Fatherland.
More than two hundred years ago an Irish Benedictine Community
of Nuns was established in Big Ship Street, Dublin. Then came
the war of the "Revolution" and the renewal of the international
struggle between England and Ireland....
The Dutchman whom the English made King offered security to the
Irish Benedictine Nuns, should they elect to remain in their own
land; but, as if visions of the future passed before them, they
trusted him not. They sought an asylum beyond the seas, where,
amid the vicissitudes of fortune, they ever turned their
thoughts to Ireland, and in the days of her agony ceased not to
pray for her redemption.
They took up their abode in Belgium; they made Ypres their home;
and their convent, in its turn, became the refuge of many Irish
exiles driven by injustice and oppression from the land of their
birth. Wars swept over Europe. Belgium was desolated, even as
she has been desolated to-day. Irish soldiers, too, played their
part in those wars as they play their part in the struggle which
is now convulsing the world--the part of valour and renown.
Fifteen years after the Irish nuns had settled in Ypres a great
battle was fought at the other extremity of Belgium, on the
famous field of Ramillies. In that fateful fight the Irish
Brigade, in the service of France, held the village of
Ramillies. The fight surged and raged around it, but the Irish
kept their ground. Two of the flags which they had taken from
the foe were deposited in the Irish Convent at Ypres, and a part
of one of these flags was preserved by the faithful Irish nuns
down to our own day....
Once more war clouds gathered over Europe. Once more Belgium
was fated to become the victim of calamities which she did not
provoke. The armies of Germany wantonly invaded her territory
and cruelly devastated her homes. Ypres was bombarded and
destroyed. The Irish Convent, often destined to escape the fury
of the storm, now perished in the general ruin. The charred
remains of its hospitable walls alone recall the historic
memories with which its name shall for ever be associated.
Penniless, bereft of everything except the hope and
determination to retrieve their fortunes, the nuns fled from
Belgium and took refuse in England....
In their trouble, anxiety, and distress they sought counsel with
Irishmen to aid them in considering the best way of finding a
suitable home in the old land. Providentially such a home
offered itself in Merton House, Macmine, County Wexford.
Recently the Mother Prioress and one of the nuns visited the
place, and were pleased with it. Acting on the advice of their
friends they resolved to purchase it. We now venture to appeal
to Irishmen and Irishwomen in Ireland and abroad to help us in
collecting the necessary funds. We make this appeal with
confidence.
The nuns have told the story of their flight from Belgium in the
book, _The Irish Nuns at Ypres_, published by Messrs. Smith,
Elder, of London. The tale is an epic which will live in the
history of those fearful times to the honour of the religious
Order and the glory of womanhood. Fidelity to religious and
national ideals has been their badge of distinction in every
eventuality. They shall have their reward. The heroism, the
self-devotion, the religious faith, the Christian zeal and
charity of those Irish nuns in a terrible crisis in the history
of the Order will, we venture to say, command universal respect
and admiration, mingled with pity for their fate, and an earnest
desire, among all generous souls, to help them in retrieving
their fortunes.
J.E. REDMOND, M.P.
R. BARRY O'BRIEN.
Subscriptions to "The Irish Nuns of Ypres Fund" will be received
by J.E. REDMOND, M.P., Aughavanagh, Aughrim, Co. Wicklow; R.
BARRY O'BRIEN, 100 Sinclair Road, Kensington, London; the Right
Rev. ABBOT MARMION, O.S.B., Edermine, Enniscorthy; Mr. M.J.
O'CONNOR, Solicitor Wexford; and the _Freeman's Journal_,
Prince's Street, Dublin.
_February, 1916._
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End of Project Gutenberg's The Irish at the Front, by Michael MacDonagh