Memoirs of Connie Francis Neenan 1916-1920s, 1939-1940

deserted section of town, the job should prove fairly easy. This then was the plan I discussed with Father Eddie and, he right away agreed to get in contact with Tom Hales in the confession box and disclose to him all the details of our plan. Tom, in turn, would have to make the necessary arrangements to organise his side of it. This too, should not prove too [50] difficult as the friendly warder, escorting the prisoners to confession on Saturdays, allowed them full freedom inside the Chapel. Arranging for all the details took some days, of course, but on Fr. Eddie's next visit to Tom, all preliminary work was completed and then the whole plan was cemented, both, for the inside and outside operations. All was set and, again with the boys from C. Company Cork, ably assisted by Sean Cleary, Frank Thornton and myself every detail was once more discussed and gone over. Then, suddenly on Friday, I got an urgent SOS from Fr. Eddie. He had paid a visit to Pentonville only to find that Tom Hales and some other Irish prisoners had been moved to Parkhurst Prison on the Isle of Wight. I contacted Sam and Frank right away and on meeting them, I had to give them the bad news. That ended all our hopes and plans of helping Tom. In this connection it is interesting to mention how Father Eddie managed to be so extraordinary successful in aiding us: he continuously maintained a strongly pro-British attitude and did it so convincingly that none of the Prison officials ever even suspected him. It was only through a stroke of sheer luck, however, that Father Eddie could continue his invaluable help to us. The great danger started when his brother Jack in Cork suddenly began to send him, daily, the Cork Examiner which always reported in great detail the killings of Black and Tans and of other British agents. To make matters worse still, his brother would draw a big circle in red ink around such news items with an arrow pointing to the top of the page where he would write in block lettering, right on the margin "THESE FELLOWS GOT WHAT THEY DESERVED!" Fortunately for Father Eddie, as also for the prisoners he so actively helped, the newspapers he got were not censored, for some strange reason, and consequently, the dangerous comments had not been detected. Father Eddie asked me in all urgency to go to his brother, immediately, and as soon as I got back to Ireland and to ask him to PLEASE stop writing there comments and sending Irish newspapers. (Incidentally, Father Eddie could always get these papers in London.) Of course, I complied with his request and, fortunately, my warning came in time and Father Eddie was never found out. After the planned escape for Tom Hales had failed, Peter and Florrie O'Donoghue left that week to return to Ireland. Frank Thornton sent me to Liverpool together with Tadg O’Sullivan, as the latter would not travel via Holyhead or Rosslare. Tadg had [51] to be extremely careful since he was badly wanted and hunted by the British. Warning Tadg that he was not to talk at all, and that I do as little as possible, Frank handed me the travel money; this being the first time it ever happened, I couldn't help laughing. At King's Cross St. Pancreas, I slipped the conductor two shillings and asked him whether the train went all the way to Victoria and how long it would take. Right away he told us that he was on duty on that train and, very solicitously, put us into a first class carriage, where we had all the comfort and privacy we could possibly wish for throughout the entire journey except for the brief "disturbance" when we ordered tea!... Ever so often, Tadg would collapse in helpless laughter at the idea of the two of us, ex-prisoners on the run, yet, here we were flying through the English countryside, stretched out in a first-class carriage with our third class tickets!! Arriving at a place called Quinns, Vauxhall Road, we met several obvious sympathisers, one of them questioning me persistently if we knew Sandow. We, however, steadfastly sticking to the false names we had mentioned, insisted that we had not known him personally. That night we were to stay with some local friends who got scared at the last minute, consequently, we had to spend a very uncomfortable night sitting up in chairs. Finally, morning came, and we went on to Bootle, our escort being a man of the local unit there and, that night, stayed with a family by the name of Foley, who came from Castletownroche originally. Still and even then, we continued to use false names and never disclosed our identity to anyone. After a few days running around in Liverpool, delivering the assignments given us by Frank Thornton and Sam Maguire, we went down to the docks and boarded a coal boat at 8 a.m. where Dan Hannigan, who was with us then, was giving forth on the wonders of Constitutionalism and on the havoc that physical force had wreaked in Ireland. I suspected right away that his tirade was meant for the benefit of someone present, and learned later it was a local Union leader who was standing near us. While Dan kept him occupied, we got up to leave and say good-bye. The ruse worked and another man then took us down below where the combined smell of oil and coal added discomfort to the already stale atmosphere.

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