Free Dan Breen and the IRA by Joe Ambrose

Unlike dynamite, gelignite does not suffer from the dangerous problem of sweating: the leaking of unstable nitroglycerine from the solid matrix.
    The Soloheadbeg gelignite – over one hundred pounds (forty-five kilos) of it in three wooden cases – was initially hidden in a ditch by the roadside at Lisheen Grove – Treacy and Breen’s old meeting place – and covered with leaves. They dumped the horse and cart elsewhere, and scattered a few sticks of gelignite nearby as a decoy.
    From the Tuesday of the ambush until the following Friday – 24 January – the boxes were left untouched. A small team of local Volunteers and Cumann na mBan women observed and guarded the concealed booty from a distance. Larry Power from Donohill and Norah O’Keefe, Breen and Treacy’s good friend, organised this.
    On one occasion a military truck drove right up to the hiding spot and broke down. This false alarm led to the decision to move the explosives somewhere less vulnerable. On the Friday night, Tom Carew (subsequently intelligence officer of the Third Tipperary Brigade) and his brother approached the explosives dump driving a cart loaded with timber. The brothers put the three cases on the driver’s seat, covering them with an overcoat. Carew then lit his pipe and drove off at a leisurely pace. As they moved away from the Grove several military vehicles passed them, stopping Carew because he had no lights on his cart. He told them there was no need for lights as there was a full moon.
    Carew then hid the consignment – covered with hay – in a mangold pit on his farm at Golden Garden, near Cashel, until a more secure hiding place could be dug on a part of his land where cattle foddered. All soil and sand was removed from the pit and thrown into a nearby stream. The boxes were then inserted into the hole. Alternate layers of clay and stones were placed on top of them, and finally, the topsoil was replaced.
    There the booty rested until, one day, fourteen lorries showed up at Golden Garden. Over 200 RIC men and soldiers spread out, armed with spades, picks and long spikes. They also had meticulously detailed maps of the farm. The raid that followed went on for hours.
    â€˜When it started,’ Desmond Ryan reported in Seán Treacy and the Third Tipperary Brigade , ‘Carew was out working on the land and managed to conceal a revolver and get rid of some ammunition. As he entered the house he was placed under arrest and armed guard along with the other members of his family.’
    The British forces carefully scrutinised and probed the entire farm. Carew, alert to the fact that he had probably been the victim of a well placed informer, could hear excited shouting going on all around the farmhouse.
    Eventually, down by the stream, a shrill whistle was blown and there was animated yelling. Virtually every one of the searchers dashed to the scene, leaving only a handful of men to guard the Carew family. ‘On the very spot where the dump had been sunk,’ wrote Ryan, ‘the raiders were working furiously, spades, picks and spikes all in action.’ The spikes were thrust deeply into the exact place where the boxes were buried. It subsequently emerged that a spike had even struck one of the boxes and broken off a splinter of wood from its lid.
    Amazingly, the men failed to discover the boxes and eventually the search was called off. The gelignite rested easy at Golden Garden until the following November, by which time the tentative war which its capture initiated was getting into full swing.
    Around 10 November one box was sent to the south Tipperary brigade HQ, one to the Tipperary town battalion and one to the Rosegreen district. It was first used during an attack on Drombane Hall in January 1920.
    â€˜Shortly before the Truce, what was left of the gelignite taken at Soloheadbeg was used to destroy Ballydrehid and Alleen bridges,’ said Tadgh Crowe. ‘Ballydrehid Bridge