1 Wilmount, Killiney, Co. Dublin. May 7, '16. My dear Mother, After 24 hours' sleep, I feel able to write to you,
and you will be glad to hear at first-hand that I am none the
worse for my experience of active service. JosieOne wrote
and telegraphed to you several times, but nothing could get
out, or, in, as you know. No one seems to know how one of
your wires got through. The whole thing came on us like a
thunderbolt on Monday, and out here we could not guage the
seriousness of the rising. As I could not get in on Monday
night, I went down to the Dalkey Police Station to see if they
wanted special constables, but all the police were in barracks
and seemed to be taking matters with a light heart. They
assured me that everything would be quiet in the morning, so
I went home to bed, and cycled in early on Tuesday morning
in mufti, riding quite unconscious of danger down one side of
Stephens' Green, which was in the hands of the rebels.
I was the only living thing in the street at the time, and
I went along slowly to get a good view of the barricades.
Rifle firing from the Sh Helbourne Hotel into the Green, the
sight of a dead horse at the corner, and a crowd more or less
sh e eltered in Merrion Row, (which runs into Stephens' Green) 2 gave me the first impression of danger. There were no police or military to warn people from
straying into side such places, and I was to see later how
idiotically contemptuous of rifle firing the crowd is until
someone gets hit, and even then how quickly the effect is
overpowered by morbid curiosity. I went straight to Trinity
College, and found a dozen others arguing with the porter,
who would not budge from his orders to admit no one. Nor
would he send a message to head-quarters at the front gate
facing College Green, so we gave it up for the time and
wandered about for a bit to see how things were looking.
There were crowds of foot passengers quite orderly, and not
in the least understanding the situation. Shots were being
fired here and there, especially between Dublin Castle and
the rebels in the Daily Express building just across the road,
but the entire absence of any armed person in the streets
produced a feeling of unreality, almost of deliberate drama,
in the beholder. For instance, the huge breadth of Sackville
Street at the G.P.O. was spanned by a strand or two of barbed
wire, and one callow youth in the uniform of the Sinn Fein
(pronounce 'Shin fane') army was leaning on his rifle
chatting to a knot of people while keeping the wire inviolate.
One windowThe windows of the G.P.O. were smashed, mail-bags, office-
furniture and miscellanea, formed cover for the defenders, and
some of these could be seen more or less at their ease 3 looking down upon us, just as if they were awaiting the arrival
of some royal procession. In Sackville Street there was no
shooting, and the crowd laughed and talked gaily. A few shops
had been looted to the last article, but it seems only those
into which the rebels had forced an entrance for purposes of
defence. At that time the mob had not taken the initiative. My friend and I returned to the Collage gates and obtained
admission at about 11 a.m., and until the following Sunday I
left it only once, and that for the purpose of guarding
prisoners at the Custom House, just opposite the famous
Liberty Hall, now blown to bits. The duty of the O.T.C. re-inforced by stray soldiers
of all kinds --- Anzacs, Canadians, A.O.C., South Africans,
R.I.R., R.D.F., Manchesters, and others who had fled from
the streets on Monday night --- was to hold T.C.D. which
happens to occupy the next most important strategic position in
the City. When the rising occurred about midday on Monday
afternoon and night there were never more than 40 to 60
armed men in the garrison. The military acumen of the rebel
leaders may be judged from the fact that they did not make
any serious attempt to capture the position. If they had
done so the rebellion might have been a much more serious matter. During the afternoon of Tuesday, the first regiment of
soldiers arrived from the Curragh and you may imagine that we 4 cheered them as they entered the gates. From that time the
College was the scene of the greatest military activity, and
at one period later in the week a whole brigade with cavalry
and artillery billetted and bivouacked within the walls. The
actual defence of the College was left in our hands and we
had a strenuous ten days of manning windows and roofs and
mounting guards. A machine gun and a party of sharp-shooters
on the roof did good execution down Sackville Street, and
T.C.D. may de said to have saved the banks and business
premises of the most important thoroughfares of Dublin. Only
one shop within range of our rifles was looted and I shall never
understand how the riff-raff of the streets could brave the
hail of bullets - even though most of them were fired high -
in order to steal boxes and sacks full of fruit and vegetables. The College buildings are high and formed a perfect
protection from the enemy's bullets, but it was not a pleasant
experience to do guard duty in the various quads, while rifle
and machine gun fire was going on briskly overhead, but I
got used to it in a short time. I know now what a diet
of bully beef and biscuits means, for we had them three times
a day almost the whole time, very rarely seeing bread or
butter, and meat of the uncanned variety only once. Even
jam was scarce, and after the first two days there were no
potatoes. That was nothing, but we all felt the want of
sleep, as the garrison was not strong enough to permit a
proper system of reliefs. For five nights I slept something 5 less than ten hours, and that of course with all clothes and
equipment on. But what is that compared with one spell of
duty in the driest trench at the front. If the rebels had
possessed anything heavier than a machine gun we should have
slept still less. The madness of it all! But was the plan mere madness?
I do not believe it. The rebels were convinced, in my
opinion, that they were taking part in a great German push
by sea and by land, and you will find that they had good
reason for their belief. The rebels adopted defensive
tactics from the beginning, and they gambled upon (a) a
general rising of the populace, (b) German assistance
arriving before the British could send enough men from
England. They hoped that the German Navy, or the Submarine
part of it, would deal with the transports, and that the paral-
ysis of Dublin would be followed immediately by a rebel
occupation of every important town in the country. We call them madmen now because they did not succeed,
but we shall not know for a long time how mad they really
were. If it were not for the wanton burning of Sackville Street,
the city and the country would have suffered no more than trifling
inconvenience, and a few hundred casualties, but that immense
act of arson has ruined Dublin for the time. I saw the fire,
and it will never fade from my memory. No photographs can
reproduce the awful devastation which it wrought, nor any 6 writing the misery which it leaves behind. Nevertheless, this rebellion has done no one good thing in
that the reality of war has been brought to our doors, and
I shall have more hope for Ireland from now on. Perhaps if
the rebellion had flared up in the provinces before it was
suppressed, the ultimate result would be happier, but in the
Dublin area at least the people will turn from the pleasure
of making profits out of the war to the sterner task of fighting
adversity. There is still an O.T.C. garrison in T.C.D., but the
business men are being relieved, and I gave up my rifle on
Friday, after 9 days continuous duty. It is said that
T.C.D. saved the city, and I am proud to have been one of
the garrison. Luckily the long range shooting of the rebels
was poor while ours was fair to good, so that we suffered
no casualities.