The Squad by T. Ryle Dwyer Read Free Book Online

Féin a strong voice in policy matters and by debarring members of the cabinet – other than himself and Griffith – from membership of this committee. He undoubtedly had Collins in mind when he explained the standing committee’s consultative role. He said, for example, that if a minister decided that the Irish people should no longer pay income tax to the crown, the proposal would need the approval of the standing committee, or it would be dropped.
    Collins had been arguing in favour of such a scheme within the cabinet, but he had come up against the resolute obstinacy of Brugha. De Valera, as was his wont, had assumed a detached position in the dispute, but his remarks at the árd fheis certainly leaned towards Brugha’s more cautious position on the issue. Collins was busy lobbying for the election of his friend and IRB colleague, Harry Boland, as one of the joint national secretaries of Sinn Féin. When it was all over and Boland had won, Collins seemed quite pleased with himself.
    Collins was a young man in a hurry, operating at break neck pace in at least three different spheres. Within Sinn Féin he was trying to strategically position IRB colleagues, in his ministerial capacity he was charged with organising the national loan, and, as director of both organisation and intelligence in the Volunteers, he was preparing to initiate a war of independence.
    On the night after the árd fheis, detectives of the DMP were given a very public warning. Volunteers raided the home of Detective Sergeant Nicholas Halley, and held up Detective Constable Denis O’Brien in the street, binding and gagging him. O’Brien, a native of Kanturk, had been particularly active in the DMP, especially against his fellow Corkmen in the city. Neither man was hurt, but it was a warning to them and their colleagues that the Volunteers could and would strike at them in the streets or in their homes.
    When O’Brien was brought to Dublin Castle to explain what had happened, Detective Superintendent Owen Brien asked why he had allowed himself to be tied up.
    ‘I would like to know what anyone else would do in the same circumstances?’ O’Brien responded. He later told Broy and some colleagues, ‘They were damned decent men not to shoot me, and I am not doing any more against them.’
    Addressing the dáil next day, 10 April 1919, de Valera advocated moral rather than armed resistance. Collins wished to kill those police who did not heed the warnings to lay off, but de Valera instead called for the ostracism of all policemen, whom he accused of ‘brutal treason’, because they were acting as ‘the main instruments’ in keeping the Irish people in subjugation. ‘They are spies in our midst,’ he added, echoing the sentiments of Collins. ‘They are the eyes and ears of the enemy.’
    Of course, some of these detectives were becoming invaluable to Collins. Broy was particularly friendly with Detective Sergeant Joe Kavanagh, who was working out of Dublin Castle. He was godfather to Kavanagh’s eldest son. Kavanagh ridiculed Detective Super-intendent Owen Brien as ‘Butt’ Brien. ‘Get your faces ready for the Superintendent’s joke, boys,’ he would say as Brien was about to enter a room. ‘I did not know that Joe hated England, in addition to hating the officers, but I knew that we were such friends that I could trust him,’ Broy said. Collins had asked him about Kavanagh only once or twice. One evening while walking in Stephen’s Green Kavanagh and Broy suddenly realised that they were both giving information to Collins. ‘I told him about Mick’s visit to No. 1 Great Brunswick Street,’ Broy explained. ‘He nearly fell, laughing, knowing the mentality in the G Division office and knowing Mick. He got me to tell it to him a second time, and he laughed so much that people looked at him as if he were drunk or mad. He asked me what did Mick look like in the office, and I said he looked like a big plain-clothes man going out on