In the course of that fight I lost nearly all my old brothers-in-arms. Even in the war against the Black and Tans Tipperary suffered less heavily. Dinny Lacey gave his life for Ireland; so too did Jerry Kiely, “Sparkie” Breen, Paddy Dalton, Paddy McDonough, Mick Sadlier, D. Ryan, Liam Lynch, and several others with whom I had campaigned in the old days. They were noble and courageous soldiers, true and unselfish comrades. Ireland will miss such men as these. They might be with us still if the agreement made in Limerick between Liam Lynch and Mick Brennan had been kept by the Free Staters. That agreement might have saved the soldiers of the south from turning their guns on one another. No one can say that the Republicans have a particle of responsibility for the breaking of the 1922 Treaty of Limerick. I shall conclude my story with an account of the circumstances that led to my capture. When Liam Lynch was killed in County Waterford in the early spring of 1923, Austin Stack, Frank Barrett, David Kent, Sean Gaynor, Maurice Walsh, George Power, and several others of us who were together in the neighbourhood decided to make our way to the Nire Valley to attend an important meeting that had been called to discuss certain peace proposals. We reached Melleray at 1 o’clock next morning, and had a much needed rest and some food. At 5 o’clock we resumed our journey towards Cappoquin, and after an hour’s march we crossed the road, for we were anxious to keep to the fields as much as possible. Just after we had crossed the road, and were advancing up a hill heavy fire was opened on us from three sides. We at once took cover, but as the firing became more intense we decided to get away as best we could. In the confusion we became scattered. I never met Austin Stack from that day until I met him four months later in Mountjoy, where we were both prisoners. I fell in with Maurice Walsh and Andy Kennedy, and we decided to face for Newcastle, near Clonmel. When we arrived there we found to our amazement that the place was held by a strong party of Free Staters. We had to remain for two days on the hills, as the Free State troops had brought up huge reinforcements to sweep the district. There was heavy snow on the ground, but we could not venture into any place of shelter. After two days we slipped through the lines, and I headed for my old haunt, the Glen of Aherlow. I reached a dug-out on the Glen and almost collapsed from exhaustion and hunger. I slept almost as soon as I lay down. From that sleep I was wakened by the heavy tramp of marching men above. I jumped out and looked into the barrels of several Free State rifles. I had no option but to surrender. I am not a soft-hearted man. I have gone through too much to feel it an easy job to weep; but my pride alone kept me from crying like a child that day.