After the election we had more time to review our position. The results had cleared the air; the people had by an overwhelming verdict given us moral sanction to drive the British forces out of Ireland. But the election work had had a serious effect on our army. Many had ceased to be soldiers and had become politicians. There was danger of disintegration, a danger which had been growing since the threat of Conscription disappeared a few months earlier. I was convinced that some sort of action was absolutely necessary. Over and over again I discussed the matter with Sean Treacy. I knew that if we once showed them the way, there were plenty of fine fellows on whom we could rely. Sooner than we expected the opportunity came. Let me introduce my readers to the first authentic account of the affair known as “The Soloheadbeg Outbreak,” or, as the hostile Press persistently titled it, “The Soloheadbeg Murders”; for those who read the newspaper versions of our struggle with England must bear in mind that every newspaper in Ireland was hostile to our policy, and so remained to the end, though a few of them lost their bitterness towards us as the campaign progressed. It must also be remembered that even when the “Great War” ended the British Press Censorship was continued in Ireland for over a year. CHAPTER VI. SOLOHEADBEG. At the beginning of January, 1919, we received information to the effect that a quantity of explosives was to be conveyed to Soloheadbeg Quarry for blasting purposes. The consignment, we knew, would be guarded by armed policemen, as was always the rule at that time. I spoke to Sean about it. “Here is our chance,” I said, “let us start the war soon, or the army will lose heart.” I knew we had but a very small number of men with determination enough for such a job, but I knew too that the number would increase with time; and, in any case, it is quality, not quantity, that counts in guerilla warfare. We discussed the proposal for a long time. Finally we decided to disarm the guard and seize the explosives, for, as Sean said, there was nothing we needed more at that time than guns and explosives. We made a careful survey of the locality. We selected the spot for our first ambush. We knew every inch of the ground, we had been born and reared in the vicinity, and Sean’s own farmhouse was not a stone’s throw from the quarry.