An Cosantóir

www.military.ie THE DEFENCE FORCES MAGAZINE | 29 were worn down and defeated by the professional soldiers of superior British forces. Their surrender, on Saturday 30th April, came as no surprise; a static force, outnumbered, with poor armaments and supplies, and inadequate food for sustenance. Those who survived and could walk were marched along the quays and out to Richmond Bks (while being harangued by hostile crowds of onlookers), where they were sorted into ringleaders and others. On 2nd May, my grand- father, among the large group of 'others', was marched to the North Wall and put on a cattle boat bound for Liverpool. Initially, Ted was in a cell on his own in Knutsford Gaol, where he quickly learnt Morse code to swap messages with adjoining cellmates (Robbins, p23). From there he was transferred to Frongoch, 'the University of Revolution' for Irish nationalists. My granddad's contribution was of the musical variety. I don't know if he got his hands on a set of pipes but I know he loved to sing and play the piano and also tried his hand at play-writing and performing. I have the record of his appearance before the Sankey Com- mission, set up in Pentonville Prison, London, after the Rising, which interviewed all Irish rebel prisoners. My grandfather was among the many that refused to sign an undertaking to cease fighting in order to secure early release. He remained in the cold, damp Frongoch detention camp until it was finally liquidated and the remaining inmates repatriated to Ireland in December 1916. He continued his membership of the ICA on return to Dublin, from 1917 to 1919, while working as an apprentice glass decora- tor and cutter. In 1919, his ICA membership translated into active service with B Company, 3rd Battalion, Dublin Brigade, IRA. While detailing his activities during the War of Indepen- dence is still a work in progress, family sources indicate he was engaged in an attack on the Broadstone Train Depot, and, along with his brother, Anthony, was part of the controversial attack on the Customs House. Anthony, an engineer, was one of the team assigned to cutting communications, which they did ef- fectively but for one secret line to Dublin Castle that they were unaware of and which was used to alert the Crown Forces. The rest, as they say, is history. Anthony escaped by hiding in a Guinness barge moored close by; how appropriate, given the earlier family connection! My grandfather ended up as a prisoner in Rath Internment Camp in the Curragh. (I have his sketchbook of the time, which contains a number of drawings of the buildings, since raised to the ground.) Eamonn subsequently joined the National Army in 1922 after the Treaty. He was a corporal piper and family lore has it that he was the lead piper when the National Army marched into Beggars Bush Bks shortly after the British had vacated it. My granddad was a Collins man through and through and was devastated by the news from Béal na Blath. Granddad was one of many demobilised in 1924 and resumed work as a crystal and stained-glass worker with the Dublin Glass & Paint Company, becoming foreman in the 1940s and a master of the 'Brilliant Cut', a particularly tricky procedure in glass-cut- ting terms. His wedding presents to family members were often mirrors displaying examples of that technique. My grandfather was both a socialist and a devoted Roman Catholic but didn't get involved in politics, preferring to pursue his love of Irish music and amateur dramatics, which he did through feiseanna at the Fr Mathew Hall. During The Emergency, he served as a sergeant under Oscar Traynor in the 26th (Veterans) Battalion, and loved being back in uniform! My jigsaw of Eamonn 'Ted' Tuke is not yet complete; but the outline is at last becoming clearer, if more complex. Letter of resignation from Guinness, St. James Gate Brewery. Signatures of the St. Stephen's Green Garrison of the 1916 Easter Rising. Ted Tuke's medals and insignia.

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