Dublin, 1921.
A city at w*r.
This is the story
of men and g*ns.
Hard men, brave men.
Violent men.
The story of the w*r
between the Black and Tans
and the Irish Republican Army.
It is 1921.
A year of total w*r.
A year of decision.
Come on, boys.
Leave it. Drop it.
Stop! Stop, I tell you!
All right, mick. You've done
your running for the day.
- Well, well. Joe Cullen.
- That's right.
That means O'Leary's
around here somewhere.
- The girl said they were both in on it.
- It was a girl, was it?
Pretty, I'll wager,
and eyes blue and innocent.
We'll find her and stop
her blabbing for good.
Not you, my lad.
You've only got till dawn.
Put him in the lorry.
Hurry up, men.
Get him in the lorry.
Please, sir. Please.
Get after him!
Head him off this way!
What's your name?
Kerry O'Shea.
Can you identify yourself?
You two, come with me!
- Your parents?
- Yes.
This says you're American.
My mother d*ed last year. I brought her
back to Ireland to rest beside my father.
You've been here ever since?
Rather a long visit, isn't it?
I'm a medical student
at the College of Surgeons.
Ah. On Cork Street.
- St. Stephen's Green.
- Name of the chancellor?
Maitland. Sir Robert Maitland.
Go on! Get after him!
- Who are you?
- She's a friend of the family.
- We found these under the wall, sir.
- That'll have been O'Leary.
Oh! Thank you.
It is a small thing to do
for Cathleen O'Shea,
whose son once showed Eileen
O'Leary a very great kindness.
It'll be the f*ring squad
if they catch him.
Like it was for
Joe Cullen this morning.
Hey, Kerry! Where were you
off to so early this morning?
Shh. Never mind about that.
Well, a fine roommate
you turned out to be.
Why?
Not a friend of mine
who isn't talking about
the American lad who struck
a blow for the cause yesterday.
Among the brave dead
in Glasnevin cemetery.
And who is the last
to hear of it? Meself.
For a very good reason. I wasn't
striking any blow for any cause.
Well, what was it, then? To make
monkeys out of the Black and Tans?
Eileen O'Leary on her knees beside
you while her man gets over the wall.
It was just instinct. I didn't
have a chance to think.
Ah, because you knew
it was right.
Look, let's forget
the recruiting speech, huh?
You followed the fine
instincts of a true Irishman.
American.
Irish-born of Irish parents.
Paddy, I'm not going to join
the organization.
I told you that. I got all the
fighting out of my system in France.
What you're saying is that
you don't believe in the cause.
Let's just say I don't believe
v*olence ever solved anything.
But my heart's with you.
What'll it take, man, to make you
realize that your heart isn't enough?
Ah, it must be a grand thing
to be an American,
with your w*r for
independence already won.
Here comes Lenihan.
Now, before resuming
the subject of mitral stenosis,
M" Mr. Leonardo da Vinci
O'Connor
please remove his latest
work of art from the blackboard?
And I'd like to remind Mr. O'Connor
and other members of the class
who apply more zeal to their politics
than they do to their medical studies
that there's a splendid course in political
science being offered at University College
and all are free
to transfer there.
Now, as to mitral stenosis...
This, gentlemen,
as we learned yesterday,
is an almost stone-like hardening
of the leaflets of the mitral valve.
These leaflets,
these valve leaflets,
ordinarily are soft and pliable,
permitting a free flow of blood
through the area.
When the hardening occurs,
the flow of blood is stemmed.
The surgeon's problem is
how to widen the aperture.
Unfortunately, no one has yet
devised a satisfactory technique.
However, medicine is looking
hopefully toward the researches
of a young man at this college,
a student of natural history
who will undoubtedly find the answer
in avid pursuit of what he does best.
Bird-watching.
If you were my surgeon, Mr. O'Shea,
and I were on the operating table
with my life in your hands,
I would not rest easy,
anesthetic and all, if a pigeon on a
windowsill had more of your attention
than my exposed insides.
And now, gentlemen, if we are finally
decided why we are in this classroom,
the subject, as you may
recall, is mitral stenosis.
A man's nothing, he's nothing
unless he believes in something.
- I do believe in something.
- What?
"Paddy, tonight I believe in a red-headed
girl 5 '4" tall in her bare feet.
And I mustn't keep
the poor darlin' waiting.
You're hopeless. Hopeless.
Will you have a drink,
your honor?
We'd reports
O'Leary was in here.
O'Leary? O'Leary.
The name has a lot of use
in Dublin.
Would it be Sean O'Leary
you're meaning, or Liam, perhaps?
Maybe the gentleman is
searching after Seamus O'Leary,
who had his stable
b*rned down on him
and was left without
a roof for his poor old horse.
That's enough of that.
Perhaps you'll do me the honor of having
the pint I poured that his lordship refused.
Waste not, want not.
Cheers now. Good luck.
Doesn't that make
your blood boil?
Oh, now, Paddy.
Oh, and a man can't enjoy a
harmless pint without being spied on.
Hey, you better save your voice.
You got a report
to read tomorrow.
And don't wait up for me.
You know, for a man of peace, you devote a
great deal of time to the battle of the sexes.
It's merely the study of the human
figure. Very important for a doctor.
Mr. O'Shea,
has it occurred to you
that when you're a doctor, you
may have a male patient or two?
No. But if I do, I'll just turn them over
to my good friend, Dr. Patrick Nolan.
I wonder...
I wonder what Terence O'Shea would
think to hear his own son talk like this?
And him among the leaders when
they captured the hall of records.
And what did he get for it?
A b*llet in his spine.
No, Paddy, let's just say that one
O'Shea is enough for the cause.
Hey! You want us
to widen the streets for you?
Come on!
Come on!
Come on!
Are you crazy, man?
- Get out of it, man. I'm done.
- Come on, boy.
Come on, boy.
It's Paddy Nolan. He's hurt.
He told me to bring him here.
'Tis one of the boys.
'Tis the nice-looking ones
always get hit first.
Well...
One doctor to another?
It's gonna take a surgeon.
Get Lenihan.
Lenihan?
Yeah.
I know where he lives.
I'll go.
Hang on, boy, huh?
Hang on, huh?
On my oath, I swear
to fight for the republic.
Careful. Careful, Tracy.
That Tan nearly saw you.
Shh. Easy.
No, no. No, no.
- Let me take this one.
- Shh. What's keeping them?
- It's a long ways off.
- There, how's that for a sh**t?
What's all this?
What's all this?
- Where's Mary?
- She's gone for help.
I want her to stand aside
from the troubles.
- And you, too, you old hag.
- Shh!
- I told you to stay out of this.
- Clancy, the poor lad was hurt.
Don't, Clancy.
Teach you to listen
when I tell you something.
With me brother dead for the cause,
would you have me turn the lad out?
Suppose the Black and
Tans come in? What then?
I always done what you wanted.
You know how I feel about you.
Oh, so you remember.
Hurry now.
Regular fancy dan waiting
for you at the hotel.
Lonely he is and spoiling for a
touch of feminine companionship.
Sorry about the redhead.
You were a poor student,
Paddy Nolan, but a good soldier.
It doesn't matter what your
epitaph is when you're dead at 23.
Yes, it does. It does matter.
I'll send a priest and some
men by before morning.
The Tans will be coming to
your place to ask questions.
- They're probably there now.
- Why?
I dropped my textbook.
It has my name in it.
Well, you'd better come with me.
We'll keep you at
headquarters for a while.
All right. Stop all the fussing.
You look grand enough.
Don't come back... ever.
And not a word.
You're keeping no appointment
tonight or any other night.
I didn't know what else to do.
With me brother dead for the
cause, how else could I look after her?
Find some other way.
Others have.
We're fighting to keep
Ireland a fit place to live in.
- Everything ready?
- Just waiting for the word, Commandant.
And remember, the second the
car turns onto the Curra Road,
you make your move,
but not until then, hmm?
We've got to get those plans. We've got to
find out what they're up to at Dublin Castle.
We'll get them for you,
nice and easy.
- Mmm. Dermot?
- Sir?
You, uh, you'll go in Paddy
Nolan's place. He was k*lled tonight.
- Are you ready, Jim?
- I am that.
Well, get on with it, then.
We've lost enough time.
- Corby?
- Yes, Commandant?
You, uh, you take Foley with you.
Go to Agnes Madigan's place.
- Paddy's lying there.
- What'll we do with him, sir?
Phoenix Park. Arrange
for some boys to find him.
Is that how you
bury your heroes?
It's no more than he'd expect,
or any of us dead for the
cause. We're fighting a w*r.
When you were fighting
your w*r in France
and a friend fell beside you,
did you stop to shed
great tears over him?
Was that why
they gave you medals?
If we could, we'd bury him at Glasnevin
with Parnell and O'Connell and the rest.
With the flag of the republic
draped over his coffin, and flowers,
his favorite hymn being sung,
But... we're underground.
We have to take death as it
comes, ugly and friendless.
It's the living
we have to think about now.
There are two courses
open to you, O'Shea.
One is to join us,
join the organization,
help us in our fight.
And the other?
To get you out of Ireland,
back to America.
I've done all the k*lling
I intend to do.
O'Leary, our young friend
could do with a drink.
He was in it with Paddy tonight.
Was it bad tonight, lad?
All the years gone by,
all the dead,
and how far have we come?
Ah, well.
The day's coming.
O'Shea...
The General would
like to see you.
Well, you're Kerry O'Shea,
are you?
You're right, Sean.
He does look like him at that.
Taller than Terence was,
though, wouldn't you say?
But with the same stubborn
look around the eyes.
Oh, a stubborn man
your father was.
We used to fight like corner
boys when we were children,
Though many's the time we fought side
by side when we were grown up and...
had something real to fight for.
I've in mind the last time,
the day of the raid,
when your father got the b*llet
that was intended for me.
He'd have bled to death right
there on the cold marble floor,
if the commandant here
hadn't carried him out.
Slung him over his shoulder,
like a fireman
with the b*ll*ts
whistling around him.
I found him wandering
along the canal, General,
in a daze like.
He was gabbling to himself,
but I couldn't make out
what he was talking about.
- Well, McGrath?
- I done what was asked, sir.
I k*lled her.
I knocked, and...
she opened the door herself.
Lovely, she was.
All dolled up,
and her eyes shining.
“Hello, Timmy," says she.
Just like that.
Then I... I felt the g*n,
going off in me hand,
and I had to shout Joe Cullen's
name so she'd know why I was doing it.
She looked so lovely.
Then she fell.
A good man is dead
because of her.
Where were you going
when Monaghan found you?
Anywhere...
Away...
to get rid of the sight of her.
I done what was asked!
That's enough!
Do you want to resign?
Is that it?
Are your parents alive, McGrath?
Very well,
we accept your resignation.
As long as we know where
to send your body.
You swore the oath. You know
the rules of the organization.
Once in, never out.
Course, you can always
withdraw your resignation.
Would you care to do that, now?
Yes, sir.
These things are not pleasant,
but they have to be done.
You see...
we are hopelessly outnumbered.
You've done us
a service, O'Shea.
We owe you something in return.
You'll stay here until
the commandant
can arrange to get you
safely out of Ireland.
If that's what you're wanting.
Remember who you are. Kerry
O'Neal, County Cork, farmer.
It's only herself
of Fitzhugh castle.
Good morning, Cassidy.
Good morning, Lady Fitzhugh.
Is it to Dublin you're headed
this fine day?
I have not missed the rose show at
Dublin Castle for 30 years, Cassidy.
I should think
you would know that by now.
Oh, the rose show, is it? Then you'll be
seeing a more fragrant aspect of the city
than a farmer gone
there to buy a calf.
A pleasant journey,
to your ladyship,
and it's a prize I hope
you'll be bringing back.
The grand prize,
if I am any judge, Cassidy,
Or if the judge is any judge.
Sean, you made good time.
Chris Noonan, Kerry O'Shea.
Oh, yes. Yes, headquarters
told us to expect another calf.
- He looks a good one.
- He's for the boat.
Unload the truck.
Hi, Tom.
Right, Willie.
Willie, I don't think the commandant
will like what he finds in there.
Noonan will look after you
till the boat comes.
Well, I don't know when
that will be exactly, O'Shea.
The boat's a hit-or-miss affair.
Of course, it's hard to keep to a
regular time-table in our line of work.
Get out.
I'll tidy up a minute,
if you don't mind.
Help the others with the truck.
Is it a squad you're commanding
here, Chris Noonan,
or the club for
the g*ng of corner boys?
Ah, sure.
Sure, there's no harm in Kitty, Sean.
May I remind you
you're all on the run?
Every man here rates a f*ring
squad the minute he's caught.
Well, I usually find, Sean,
it's that sort of a man who's most
in need of a woman's company.
Her kind?
And what kind would you suggest
for the poor boys, Commandant?
Is it those ladies
from the organization
that pour tea and make speeches
you'd be wishing on them?
They've taken the oath.
- They can be trusted.
- Trust them you can.
I trust my own darling brother
with any of those skinny frumps
down a dark lane and no moon.
I've taken no oath, but it's
better than tea and three cheers.
Kitty Brady will be giving
for any brave boy who has,
and what has the commandant
to say about that?
I'm warning you...
keep away from here.
Is it another one, then?
With hardly a trace of fuzz on his
cheek and marked for an early grave?
If you're lonely in Ardfalla, the boys
will tell you the way to Donovan's pub.
Well, I'm afraid I don't
qualify for your kind offer.
- And why not?
- I haven't taken the oath.
Well, perhaps for you,
I could find some
personal reason.
Cassidy's taking me back
to Dublin.
I'm operating this afternoon.
Sorry you'll have to miss it.
When you get back to America,
keep on with your studies.
You'll make a doctor one day,
a good one.
Uh, about my father.
This may be a little late,
but thanks.
You know I've worked for a year under
that man and I still can't figure him out?
Yes, he's a deep one,
all right, our commandant.
Well, I mean, saving life on the
one hand, having to k*ll on the other.
Must be hard for the man himself
to know what he is sometimes.
- Hello, lads.
- Hello.
Well, the, uh, the lean and
hungry look is Willie Lafferty.
Mike O'Callaghan's
our young Marconi.
I think you've met O'Brien,
Terence O'Brien.
Leaving Tommy Connor,
on guard duty.
I generally give him
the day shift, because, uh...
Well, his mother thinks he ought
to be tucked up in bed by dark.
Now, let's see where
we can settle you, O'Shea.
I think you can bed down over
here in this corner, couldn't you?
You'd be resting
on a brave man's pillow,
so you will.
Aye, Johnny McCartin
won't be needing it now.
Well, I hope you're big
enough to fill Johnny's boots.
I'm afraid I won't get
a chance to try.
He doesn't belong to the organization.
He's only here till the boat comes.
Why is that, now?
He looks like a fighting man.
Or is that just on the outside?
- That's enough, O'Brien.
- No, no. It's all right.
Let him talk.
Well, I'm just
thinking... I'm just thinking,
needing men the way we do,
this fella looks
strong enough to carry a r*fle.
Or is he afraid he'll leave an empty
bed behind the way Johnny did?
- Oh, leave him alone, man.
- He must have his reasons.
His what?
- His reasons.
- Oh, reasons.
Oh, he has his reasons,
all right.
And I believe we'd see those
reasons if he took his shirt off
and showed us where
his spine used to be.
I think you've said enough now.
Listen to him now, huh?
Just now he was looking like a fighting
man, and now he's talking like one.
Ah, but I'm thinking...
When it comes right down to it,
it wouldn't take much more
than a... Well, than a breath
of wind to blow him over.
Just a little...
Little breath of wind, huh?
To blow you over, huh?
When that boat comes,
I'll be on it.
♪ Eileen Oge ♪
♪ There's good fish In the say ♪
♪ But there's none of them ♪
♪ Like the pride of Petravore ♪
- Do you mind company?
- No.
I wouldn't let O'Brien
get you down.
Do you think I'm running out?
No, not at all. Why should I?
After all, it's not your fight,
is it?
Besides, as far as you're concerned, by
tomorrow night it'll all be ancient history.
Old Doyle will come puffing
over from the lighthouse,
and that'll mean your boat's
just rounding into the cove.
It's a beautiful spot,
just across the hills there.
I go there meself sometimes
whenever I can, do a bit of work,
just to keep me hand in in
case the k*lling should ever end.
- What is your work?
- Slim volumes of sensitive verse.
- You're a poet?
- Oh, worse than that.
They're in Gaelic.
Highly satisfying,
but of course,
completely unprofitable.
Hmm. You look startled.
Well, you... you don't exactly
expect to find a poet with a r*fle.
No. Well, patriotism taps
at all sorts of doors, O'Shea.
It must have been a bit
of a shock for the enemy, too.
I mean, who could imagine
the odd grubby fellow in the
attic over Molesworth Street
looking for internal rhyme,
in Gaelic, too, mind you...
Could be the same dirty rebel
who led the ambush at Bray?
And a few more before that.
Unfortunately, my twin personality
was brought to their attention,
and here I am...
On the run.
Oh, it's not a bad sort
of life, really.
I've even come to be
something of a farmer.
Chris!
Chris Noonan!
You're wanted inside.
O'Sullivan's after
breaking out of Dublin Castle.
- What, Liam O'Sullivan?
- Yeah.
- Are you sure?
- It's coming through now.
Here, you take over, Willie.
Liam O'Sullivan, is it?
Mind you, the English will be
hot on his heels and no mistake.
Well, not too hot, I hope.
- Because he's heading this way.
- Is he all right, do you know, Tommy?
- Is he in good health?
- Didn't say.
He was spotted when he
let himself down the wall.
They lost him in the crowd
visiting for the rose show.
Ah, 'tis a famous shipmate you'll
be having. One of the leaders.
Well, lads, it's done. Lady Fitzhugh's
bringing back the grand prize.
Lady Fitzhugh?
All sorts of doors, O'Shea.
Now, boys, tomorrow,
when the village bell strikes twelve noon,
Lady Fitzhugh will drive
up to Donovan's pub
and ask directions for the road
to the beach.
Now, it just happens we're
headed for a dip ourselves
and we go along with her
to show her the way.
We detour into the woods
of Kilmacolm,
and Liam O'Sullivan steps out
of the boot of her Rolls-Royce
into the more plebian vehicle
of one Tom Cassidy,
and Lady Fitzhugh purrs
her happy way to the Irish Sea.
Bless her darling old soul.
Quality, she is. Real quality.
No weapons.
No, we're all just standing
at the bar,
- drinking like villagers.
- No weapons?
Now, what kind
of an order is that?
Just in case anything slips up.
We don't reveal there's
a squad in the neighborhood.
He wired again, Chris.
The commandant to you.
He wants an answer.
Sullivan's hurt. Chest wound.
Lenehan's patching him up.
It'll be a rough journey. He'll
need attention straightaway.
O'Shea, if you say no,
there's not a man here who'll hold
it against you. I promise you that.
Tell him I'll go.
Well, anyway,
you're different from the rest.
How?
Well, a whole day gone by and
me looking for you to show up,
or didn't you notice me?
- Yeah, I noticed you, Kitty.
- Did you now? Well, that's better.
They say you were
studying for a doctor.
You've the kind of hands
to bring comfort to a body
and make them forget their pain.
Well, some of my teachers
didn't have quite your perception.
Perhaps you'd like to try
out your learning sometime.
If a poor girl needed your help,
a girl with a deep pain
in her chest, say,
and in real need of care.
- Is there something in the wind?
- Shh.
She's a clever old girl. She'll give
them a run for their money all right.
Must you occupy
the entire street, Captain?
I'm sorry, Lady Fitzhugh. I
must search your car. Orders.
Whose orders, may I ask?
Dublin Castle, ma'am.
Every southbound car. Sergeant?
Dublin Castle, indeed.
General French will hear
from me about this.
I'm sorry, Lady Fitzhugh.
Do you want to look in the glove
compartment for concealed weapons?
I don't think
that'll be necessary.
Hurry it up, Sergeant.
This is locked, sir.
Have you the key
to the boot, Lady Fitzhugh?
- No, I'm afraid I have not.
- Where is it, then?
I have not the slightest idea.
Would you like to accompany
me home? It may be there,
and if it is not at home,
we can telephone the
Rolls-Royce people in Dublin
and have them send one out.
I'm sure General French would
give one of his dispatch riders to them,
if he knew it was for me.
I think we can forget it,
Lady Fitzhugh.
Sir!
Stand back!
Get him out of there.
You're mixed up
in a bad business, ma'am.
- Johnson.
- Sir!
Move over.
Dublin Castle.
Sergeant.
Stand up. Sergeant.
Still working with Cassidy?
I... I am indeed, sir.
Learn something from him.
- Stay out of politics.
- Indeed, sir.
On your feet.
Captain.
Don't you want
to search me, Captain?
You're not hiding a thing, miss.
Hold it there!
British army issue.
Where'd you get it?
Do you know Lady Fitzhugh?
Or the late occupant of her
luggage compartment, huh?
Take him to the barracks.
Get a move on.
Well, why not?
Why not?
Better him than me.
He wasn't even one of us.
Give us another drink, will you?
How many men in your squad?
Where are they hiding?
What's the name of your leader?
Where were you taking
Liam O'Sullivan?
Revive him. He'll talk.
Is it running all right?
Two months in the wood
hasn't harmed her a bit.
- Purring like a kitten, she is.
- Oh, fine.
Cassidy, O'Brien,
see to it that
this place is stripped clean.
Not one sign left
that we've ever been here.
Everything goes
to the lighthouse.
After what happened today, the Tans
will be turning Ardfallen upside down.
Here you are, sir.
I only hope we can get
O'Shea out before they break him.
Oh, he'll not break, Sean.
Chris, we are not dealing
with British regulars.
We're dealing with Tans.
And, need I remind you,
O'Shea knows more than
any man in your squad.
He's been to the hideout
in Dublin.
He's talked to the General.
Well, I still say he can take
anything they have to offer him.
You believe that much in him,
do you?
And do you not, Sean?
Can't afford to.
All right, let's get started.
- Evening, corporal.
- Evening, sir.
Captain Healey,
headquarters battalion,
here to take the prisoner
to Dublin Castle.
That's all right, sir.
We had word you was coming.
We've come for the prisoner.
Right, sir.
Prisoner. Quick.
It wasn't me. I swear it wasn't.
His name.
Smithson. Colonel Smithson.
Colonel Smithson.
That's for standing by
and watching it happen.
Chris.
Set him on the table
for a moment, Chris.
All right, far enough.
All of you inside fast. Fast.
From Dublin Castle
to pick up the prisoner.
- Your men just got here, sir.
- What?
In the lorry, sir.
- You bloody idiot. Open that gate.
- Right, sir.
Duck!
I'm sorry, Kerry, but I've got to ask
you. A great many lives depend on it.
Did you tell them anything?
Are you sure? Nothing at all?
Well, we've got his name,
the man who did it,
and we'll pay him back for you
10,000 times over.
You were right, Chris.
I should have known.
Get the truck, Cassidy.
I'll be going back to Dublin as
soon as I get O'Shea patched up.
Right, Commandant.
Commandant!
- What is it?
- Boat's coming in.
Right, Doyle.
Bring my kit.
Over there.
Some whiskey, Chris.
Thank you.
Here, Kerry lad.
Commandant? Commandant.
It's Doyle.
See what he wants.
It's getting to be a habit
of yours, helping the O'Sheas.
For the last time,
the boat's waiting.
I'm not going.
You need men, don't you?
You know what that means?
The oath.
Once in, never out.
You'll see blood flow.
I can taste my own right now.
It's the boat, Sean.
Tide only gives them
a few minutes.
The captain's worried.
Tell him no passengers.
It's not too much for you, huh?
Oh, no. No, I'm fine.
- It's not a very busy thoroughfare, this.
- Of course.
That's its principal
charm for us.
Oh, once a year or so,
somebody strolls this way.
A pair of lovers, perhaps.
A poet in search of a rhyme.
The rest of the time
it belongs to the gulls.
Chris,
when am I gonna be needed?
Ah, now listen,
you've only been a week.
You mustn't start trying to run
before your legs can carry you.
Well, the thoroughfare's
getting a little busier.
Tommy Connor told me
you were here.
- Ah. And who told you about the lighthouse?
- Cassidy sent me.
- Why didn't he come himself?
- He's being watched.
Like every man in Ardfallen.
The Tans are raking the whole county looking
for the men Lady Fitzhugh was to meet.
They're offering a reward
for your names.
Yes, well, rewards were
offered before and nobody talked.
They might this time,
Cassidy says.
Well, why this time?
The Tans are saying that
unless you're all turned in,
they'll take a hostage
from every village.
That sounds like
Colonel Smithson, all right.
I better get word
to Lenihan at once.
Will you look at what the murdering
scum have done to you now?
From the moment they took you,
I never stopped
thinking about you.
Praying that you wouldn't
know too much pain.
- I thought about you too, Kitty.
- About me?
Mmm-hmm. When I thought
I couldn't stand it anymore,
I knew I had to get my mind
on something else
or tell them what
they wanted to know,
so I tried to think
of something beautiful,
- and I thought about you.
- Well, you... You don't have to say that,
- if it isn't true.
- But it is true.
It could have been anyone.
It's just that I was the last
woman you happened to see.
Well, whatever it was, Kitty,
I'm very grateful.
The court has no taste
for imposing a prison sentence
on a woman of the defendant's
age and position.
A woman, too, who bears a title
which has been a symbol
of all that is fine in Irish life
since the days
of the Norman conqueror.
But the defendant's
refusal to cooperate
leaves me no alternative.
Far from expressing regret
for her action, she has boasted,
both of her membership
of a seditious group
and of her attempt to spirit
the man Liam O'Sullivan,
an avowed rebel, out of Ireland.
Yes, that is quite accurate.
It has been brought to my notice
that your ladyship has refused food
from the day of your arrest,
in an effort to focus attention
on what you insist on calling.
Ireland's fight for freedom.
May I suggest
that a hunger strike
in a person of your years is a
needlessly rash undertaking.
The Crown, I assure you, will
not be intimidated by the gesture.
I will have my next meal.
In my home, Fitzhugh castle.
Before I pass sentence, has
the prisoner anything to say?
Yes. Indeed I have.
What is an English judge
doing in an Irish court?
The sentence is two years'
imprisonment in Mountjoy Jail.
It was something to see,
that wonderful old lady
with a spine like a ramrod,
willing to die for her beliefs.
But the General isn't going
to let her die.
Lady Fitzhugh's next meal
is going to be in her home,
Fitzhugh castle,
where she belongs.
You mean we're going to
take her out of Mountjoy?
Oh, O'Brien, if you weren't
such a superb man in a fight,
I'd have you committed.
We could as easily raid
the Bank of England itself.
Well, how then, Sean?
An idea given to us by our
good friend, Colonel Smithson.
A hostage to be returned
when Lady Fitzhugh is released.
That's a grand idea.
Now, would you consider...
Would you consider
the daughter of Sir Arnold
Fielding a fair exchange?
- The advisor to the m*llitary governor?
- Aye.
That's big game.
Oh, they'd sit up and bark
like they're bulldogs
if we got our hands on
an English rose like that.
Ah. Well, I wish I could
come with you, my dear.
But I'm afraid the Prime Minister
wouldn't understand about your filly,
and he is waiting for my report.
Well, I'll put a pound
on Brian's Daughter for you.
That'll have you there
in spirit, at any rate.
Good luck.
Good bye, Father.
Makes me happy to see you
getting on again, Jennifer,
enjoying yourself.
Sorry to put you to all this
trouble, Captain Flemming.
Trouble, ma'am?
I'm sure the army has more
important duties for its officers.
I can't think of any, ma'am.
Right you are, sir.
Giddup. Giddup there.
Sorry, sir. The donkey
has the right of way.
Don't do anything
foolish, Captain. Over.
I'll do anything you say.
Just let Mrs. Curtis go.
I'm sorry, Captain. It happens
to be Mrs. Curtis we want.
Roadblock ahead.
I hope we understand
each other, Captain.
Oh, it's you, Captain. I
won't keep you long, sir.
Thank you, Sergeant.
Anything wrong with Ernie?
Had the night off.
High as a kite.
So was I.
We'll be missing the first
race at this rate, Captain.
Would you mind, Sergeant?
- We're in rather a hurry.
- I quite understand, sir.
All right,
let Captain Flemming through.
Ernie's been up to
his tricks again.
The Captain's got
a driver from the 28th.
28th? That's funny.
- What's so funny about it?
- Well, the whole lot pulled out last month.
India. Must've left
one bloke behind.
Blimey.
Hey, there, stop that car!
Aim low. Aim for their tires.
Stem the bleeding.
Get out.
You can make your way back
to Dublin from here.
And tell Sir Arnold,
the day Lady Fitzhugh is
returned to her home for good,
he'll see his daughter again.
Have you men no feelings?
Can't you see Mrs. Curtis
needs medical attention?
Now, there's no need
to worry, me lad.
She'll have the best surgeon
in the college tending to her.
Give your tongue a rest.
Why don't you give him
my address, too?
You've just cost
the Captain his life.
Cassidy, get the truck.
Must have been a ricochet.
Half an inch higher, and it
might've pierced the jugular vein.
- Hit the clavicle?
- No.
I appear to have been lucky.
This is going to be painful.
The only thing we have to offer in the
way of an anesthetic is some whiskey.
I don't believe Lady Fitzhugh
was bargaining for her comfort.
As you wish.
I think you'd better hold on,
Mrs. Curtis.
There, that should do it.
Clean dressing every day
and watch out for any signs
of infection.
I suppose this makes you
both feel like doctors again,
instead of murderers.
Well? How is she?
Oh... She'll be fine.
By the holy, they're burning
up the airwaves tonight.
Turning the city upside
down, they are, for our guest.
It's a bad day for herself
all 'round.
Her horse got
beaten by a length.
What's troubling you, Kerry?
The captain?
sh**ting your enemy
on a b*ttlefield is one thing,
but an unarmed man
on a peaceful hillside.
It was his life or mine.
Yeah, but we were gonna
execute him.
What would you have me do?
Send him back to Dublin
knowing what he knew?
How long do you think it would've been
before they were pounding on the doors
of the College of Surgeons?
Oh, Kerry...
in time, you'll come
to believe as we do.
We're not fighting faces.
We're fighting uniforms.
Row after row.
Standing between Ireland
and freedom. Remember that.
And forget pity and mercy.
Those are peacetime words.
Used to soften and weaken us.
I don't think any w*r is worth
winning if you forget mercy and pity.
It's curious.
Seeing you staring out
over the quiet water,
the turmoil within you.
It could be 30 years ago, and young
Terence O'Shea standing there instead.
You're that much like him.
Oh, I don't mean the way you
look or the words you speak,
but what's inside you.
k*lling didn't come
easy to him, either.
Even for the cause.
But when the time came
and it had to be done,
his g*n fired faster than mine.
Kerry, you're every bit the man
your father was. We need you.
Step into his place.
Stand by my side,
till we've won.
Well, gentlemen, it all comes
down to these two scraps of paper.
A letter from the rebels,
demanding a prisoner exchange,
and from the doctors,
at Mountjoy Jail,
a report that Lady Fitzhugh
continues to refuse nourishment,
and will probably live
no more than a fortnight.
Why not send
the old girl home, sir?
Surely if we keep an eye on her,
she can't do us any more harm.
Except that it makes
us look like idiots.
If you want my opinion...
- If I may, General.
- Yes, of course.
I want it clearly understood that I am
only here as a representative of the Crown.
- Not as a father.
- Thank you, Sir Arnold.
It seems to me that
if we knuckle under now,
It's a dreadful loss
of face for England.
I'm not sure that that would
be quite as bad as the drubbing
- that our prestige is taking.
- Prestige.
Do you wish to elaborate on that
exclamation, Colonel Smithson?
What do you think
happens to our prestige
if we let ourselves be beaten
by a senile old woman
and a pack of cutthroats?
My men were sent
to Ireland to do a job.
We took over what was left
of the Royal Irish Constabulary
and made it into a force to be
reckoned with, the Black and Tans.
I grant you we're not all
graduates of Sandhurst
and members of fashionable
regiments as you gentlemen are.
I have a job of work to do,
and I'm going to do it, my way.
Most eloquent, Colonel Smithson,
but the point of the discussion
seems to have escaped you.
What we're looking for is a way
to return Mrs. Curtis to her father.
I'll find your daughter,
Sir Arnold,
if I have to burn every
house in Ireland to the ground.
It's the only language
these people understand.
- Beg pardon, sir.
- Yes, what is it?
Telephone for Colonel Smithson.
Oh, not now. I'll take it later.
But it's important, sir.
They've found Captain Flemming.
There's a bare chance
he might live.
He's lost a great deal of blood.
- I must talk to him.
- He's very weak, Colonel.
He's also a soldier.
Captain Flemming.
Captain Flemming.
Who sh*t you?
We've got to find out.
So you see, gentlemen, what
appeared to be a routine appendectomy
turned into something
a lot more complicated.
But you may profit
by what happened here today.
Whenever you operate,
keep an open mind.
Always be prepared
for the unexpected.
And make certain that your patient
doesn't recover from your surgery
only to die of a
condition you overlooked.
Which of you is Sean Lenihan?
Nurse, advise the officer,
this is not a public house.
Every minute he and his men
remain in this operating theater,
the patient runs a risk
of fatal infection.
Captain, you'll have to wait
In the corridor.
As long as there's
no other exit.
As I was saying, gentlemen,
in surgery, as in many
another walk of life,
one must always be
prepared for the unexpected.
Just a minute.
Remove your mask.
Now, then, gentlemen,
Sean Lenihan.
Remove your masks!
Summers.
All right, sir.
This way, sir.
The ambulance is waiting.
You two, second floor. Every
room. This floor, work your way back.
Summers, come with me.
Well, Sean, looks as if
you'll have to stay here
in the dark for a while.
Along with the rest
of the moles.
Well, it had to come one day.
Now, what about our plan
for Colonel Smithson?
He's an elusive man, our colonel,
but I think we've got him this time.
Ashtown Dock, the 10th.
He'll be there to see
Lord Crandall off to England.
Mmm-hmm. I'll come out
of the dark for that.
And with Smithson
out of the way, perhaps we can all
walk in the Dublin sunshine again for good.
What makes you say that?
There's great news, Sean.
Peace feelers from
Number 10 Downing Street.
They're talking treaty.
What kind of treaty?
Peace with honor.
A republic.
A free state. Dominion status.
Is that what we've
been fighting for?
Sean, both sides
must bend a little.
We'll be ruling ourselves
at last after 700 years.
But still tied to England's
apron strings.
That's not peace.
That's surrender.
It's a start.
The republic will come later.
I warn you, five out of ten men
in the republican army
will spit at peace
on those terms.
If you sign that treaty, it'll
be Irishman against Irishman.
Civil w*r
bloodier than this one.
And where would you stand, Sean?
Damn well you know.
We've fought shoulder
to shoulder for so long.
Wouldn't like us to end up
pointing g*ns at each other.
Then don't settle for
anything less than a republic.
Why do you think they come
crawling to you with their peace feelers?
Not because of the mass meetings,
the pamphlets, or the poets crying aloud
about the Black and Tan tyranny
and Ireland's suffering. No.
Because we've got
them on the run.
We're b*ating them at their own game with
the r*fle and the revolver and the b*mb
and the crackling of the flames.
The only thing to do about
any w*r is to end it
with dignity and honor.
It'll be a fair treaty.
A general amnesty, freedom for all
political prisoners, our own parliament.
What good is a republic if
there's no one left to enjoy it?
How much longer can we wade
through the blood of our own countrymen?
To the last man, we said.
Now, you think of that
when you pick up your pen.
Good morning.
Well, how you feeling today?
Any pain?
If you're asking as a doctor,
no pain.
Good. Let's have a look at it.
I can manage that myself
now, thank you.
Oh, that's a good sign.
You sound very cheerful
this morning.
Did you sh**t
another British soldier?
Hmm, that's coming along fine.
I think we'll just leave this on for today,
and tomorrow you can do without a bandage.
Little fresh air will do it
more good than anything.
Perhaps you can arrange
to have some sent in.
Perhaps.
By the way, was Captain
Flemming anything special to you?
Not until you k*lled him.
You might like to
know that he's alive.
He's in a hospital in Bray.
Oh, I'm so glad.
Fortunately, I'm not
the cr*ck sh*t I thought I was.
Why did you say fortunately?
This might surprise you,
Mrs. Curtis, but...
I don't exactly
enjoy k*lling people.
You trying to convince me that
you're civilized human beings after all?
Just because a man's a rebel,
that doesn't make him a savage.
Afraid I have good reason
to believe otherwise.
My husband wasn't quite
as lucky as Captain Flemming.
Yes, I...
I heard about that. I'm sorry.
But how generous of you to
extend your sympathy to the enemy.
And it isn't too much to hope
that you'll be sorry for me as well.
For you?
I've no illusions about what would
happen to me if Lady Fitzhugh were to die.
Tell me, how is it done
in the rebel army?
Do I face six brave
soldiers with r*fles?
Or do you draw straws
and let one man do the job and
conserve precious amm*nit*on?
You're just being held here
as an exchange hostage.
If Lady Fitzhugh were to die, you'd
be released immediately to your father.
Do you expect me
to believe that?
Why not?
Because I've seen
your commandant
and the look in his eyes.
You won't be harmed.
You're a soldier.
You'll do as he tells you.
You have my promise.
Why should you
promise me anything?
Maybe it's because I'm just
not a good enough soldier.
Any news yet?
No, not a whisper.
What are they waiting for?
You seem to be rather anxious
to get rid of our prisoner.
I don't like to see anybody
cooped up like an animal.
No, especially a raven-haired
beauty like that one, I'm thinking.
Don't be an idiot.
It's a lunatic way
of fighting a w*r.
Up in Dublin,
a silver-haired old lady
wasting away in a martyr's cell.
And here we keep a girl whose only crime is
that she's the daughter of an important man.
Oh, it's lunatic.
Tell me something, Chris.
Yes, what is it?
If Lady Fitzhugh dies,
what will Lenihan do?
Well, now...
I wouldn't think about that,
Kerry, if I were you.
Not until it happened.
Is she pretty, Cassidy?
Well, now, I'd be
a miserable Irishman
if I could admit to meself that
there was any such creature
as a pretty Englishwoman.
Well, it's the Irish newspapers that
call her "the beautiful Mrs. Curtis."
Will you, for the love of heaven,
not even think of her name?
Wouldn't your commandant
consider this against orders?
There's no specific order
against having a breath of fresh air.
What if I try to escape?
There's just one way.
I see what you mean.
You know, I've had a lot of time to think,
staring at my four walls this last week.
I've wondered about you.
You don't seem like the others.
Why?
For one thing,
you're an American.
Tell me, why did
you come to Ireland?
To study at
the College of Surgeons.
Aren't there plenty of good
medical schools in America?
Yeah, I guess there are, but
it was a wish of my mother's,
the school my father went to.
And what will you do
when it's over?
Go back to America
after I finish my studies,
and then I'll become a doctor,
I guess.
It's odd, isn't it?
Standing together at the top of a
lighthouse exchanging life histories.
It's as though we were at a dance
somewhere, and the world was at peace,
and you'd taken me out onto
the terrace for a breath of fresh air.
And the music was coming
from the ballroom,
and I was thinking, "Well, is
this young man going to kiss me?"
"And if he does,
what shall I do?"
Oh, it's all so hopeless
and confused.
We don't belong here,
you and I. You're a doctor.
You're not meant to be k*lling.
But we could get away.
I know my father would help us.
He'd see that you got safely
to America,
then I could join you there. Anyway,
just as long as we're together.
Please, take me away
from here, please.
Well, not bad, Mrs. Curtis.
Not bad at all.
For a second,
you almost had me fooled.
What did you expect me to do, stand
around waiting for your f*ring squad?
Oh, you're quitting so soon?
Oh, what does it matter now?
What difference does it make?
You got a pretty small
bag of tricks, don't you?
Or maybe I just didn't give you
a chance to drag them all out.
Tell me, just how far
would you have gone?
I would've done anything
to get away from here.
There's just one thing
wrong, though.
You couldn't have fooled me
even for a second,
if there hadn't been
something there to believe.
Oh, Kitty. You brought
the things, all right.
- That's very kind of you.
- Anything for the cause,
even if it's only
a few bits of cloth.
Mrs. Curtis, we've had
some clothing brought for you.
Meaning you expect me
to be here for a while?
Well...
We'll have her looking like a
barmaid in Donovan's pub in no time.
Well, nothing here fit for a
party at Buckingham Palace,
But they'll cover you,
and they won't hide the fact
you're a woman.
They'll be fine. Thank you.
Sean.
Weren't expecting you tonight.
Must be something big brings you
down from headquarters, Michael.
Big enough, eh, Commandant?
Just. Colonel Smithson.
Well, we leave here early in the morning.
There's lots of work to be done before then.
I'll make up a bed for you on
the second landing, Commandant.
Thank you, John.
Now, we've been blueprinting
every move for a week.
You'll be able to take your
positions without being questioned.
Now, this is Ashtown Dock.
Well, I'll be going.
It looks like only my clothes
were needed here tonight.
Here. Sailing time...
Well, wouldn't you know it?
It's the commandant himself.
There will be fireworks when
he sees me, you can bet on that.
But I don't understand. You're
both on the same side, aren't you?
That one's on no woman's side.
There are things about
that one, deep things.
But I'm not afraid of him.
It's going to take
split-second timing.
I'll be reminding you of that a
hundred times before the night is over.
One mistake,
and we'll be leaving our
own dead there, on the dock.
Chris, you had your orders.
What is she doing here?
Well, she's been a great help
to us, Sean.
She brought us
news of the hostages,
and, tonight,
clothing for the Englishwoman.
How long have you
been standing there?
And how much have you heard?
I heard nothing and I care less.
Well, we're going to
make sure of that.
You'll stay here
until we get back.
Yes, your honor.
Whatever you say, your honor.
All right, now,
once again.
I'm on top of the crane
over there.
I push my dolly from there
to the gangplank, only I, uh...
I don't quite make it.
And I'm here to see the gates
aren't closed till we get out.
And I'm over there
on the other side of the gate.
I'm waiting here
with the motorcar running.
That's me, a docker,
waiting to tie up a bowline.
I'm on deck there
by the gangplank.
I'm checking the cargo
as it goes up.
And I'm the dock foreman.
Now, remember. Remember, it's Colonel
Smithson himself who gives us the signal
when he says goodbye to
Lord Crandall and salutes him.
The minute, the instant, his
fingers touch the peak of his cap,
we give him our salute.
Oh, that's the part I love.
Him helping us like that.
All right, now, once more,
and then we'll get some rest.
No. They might
like some in there.
I'm pushing me dolly from here
to the gangplank,
only I don't quite make it.
Aren't closed till we get out.
And I'm over there...
It occurred to me
you might like some tea.
You must've been
reading me mind.
Oh, uh, I thought you might like
some, it being so late and that.
Are they still at it?
Oh, they are. They are.
And if I know them meself,
they'll be at it for hours yet.
Must be important.
There's only one thing
they talk about in Ireland,
when there's more than
one man around a table,
and a pot of tea between them,
and that's the fine, soft
talk about the taking of life.
It means there's a raid coming up or an
ambush or a burning, more bloodshed.
And a few less men to talk
and drink tea the next time.
Will they all be going?
Well, they'll probably leave
old Doyle to keep an eye on us.
But the rest will be going
and Kerry O'Shea with them.
Now, you don't really think
that was too clever of me?
The way you were both trying
so hard not to look at each other.
And it all there in your faces
for anyone to read.
Women are fools,
aren't they, Kitty?
If it was me, I wouldn't waste a
heartbeat on a single one of them.
Why should I? And my
heart broken over and over
when the news is brought
back about an execution.
Or a body in a ditch
or rotting away in some jail.
Oh, no.
That's not for Kitty Brady.
Are you trying to frighten me
out of my wits?
Now, where do you think
you're going to?
To the beach,
that's all, for a swim.
Oh, for a swim.
Or maybe planning to meet
Kerry O'Shea, huh?
If I was, he'd have to get
past you, wouldn't he?
Now, I give you my word
I'll be back.
Well, now, if you were to give
me a little more than your word...
Why not?
How long have you been
watching me?
Just long enough to make sure
you're not thinking of leaving us.
Is that what you told
yourself, Commandant?
You were just playing
watchdog and nothing else?
What else could there be?
"What else could there be, “
he says. So pure and noble.
Don't you think I've seen you
looking at me with your hot eyes,
wanting to put your hands on me?
Isn't that the truth, now?
Wasn't it just Kitty Brady who brought
you here and not your precious plans?
Why did you never try,
Commandant?
Were you afraid the others
might know and think less of you?
Well, they wouldn't know now.
We're alone with only
the wind and the sea.
So what's to stop you,
Commandant?
Get away from here
and don't come back
and don't ever say
a word about us,
about the squad.
If you do, I'll find you.
- Did anyone see you?
- No. What is it, Donovan?
Was it the Tans?
They came busting in here
and wrecked me place.
And they b*at me up for a liar when
I couldn't tell them where you were.
Me?
What did they want me for?
They searched every cottage
and farm in Ardfallen.
Now, you and the boys at
Cassidy's were the only ones gone,
so they'll know now that you've
something to do with them.
What am I going to do, Donovan?
I'm not strong. And I
know what they're like
when they want
to find out something.
- I might tell them.
- Kitty, keep a hold of yourself.
Now listen. It'll be all right.
Now listen, first thing tomorrow,
McSweeny comes by to deliver the stout.
He's a good man. He'll take
you to Dublin with the barrels.
- Go to Ashtown Dock.
- Ashtown Dock.
Take the Liverpool boat.
My sister's over there.
You can stay with her
for a while.
- No, no, Donovan.
- Don't be a fool, child.
You'll need the money for
your ticket. Boats aren't free.
God reward you, Donovan.
Ah, sure, it's little enough to
pay the Tans back for all this.
You're going.
Doyle will look after you.
There will be k*lling,
won't there?
Yes.
I have a feeling we'll
not see each other again.
Does that matter?
I don't know.
I'll be back.
Sean, is it true?
What Michael just told me?
What did he tell you?
That this might be
the last ambush.
There's talk of a treaty.
Treaty.
The talk of traitors
willing to sell Ireland out
to the enemy.
There will be no treaty.
No treaty until we get
what we been fighting for.
We'll keep the flames crackling till
we've k*lled every traitor on Irish soil.
But we haven't got all day.
He doesn't want it to end.
Well...
he's always had his eyes
fixed on the future, Sean...
Maybe he's forgotten
how to look right or left.
Like many others.
Steerage to Liverpool.
Thank you.
Just a moment, miss.
What you want?
Don't move.
Well, Kitty.
I trust it wasn't too uncomfortable
riding among those barrels?
I haven't done anything.
Where are the others?
What others?
Were they finding it a little
hot for them in Ardfallen? Huh?
Perhaps they're all taking a
sea trip to find a cooler spot.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
I was only going up...
I tell you...
I tell you I'm alone.
- I only came here to go to Liverpool.
- Arrest that man.
She's turned us in.
What'll we do?
Smithson.
Ambush.
Get back! Get back in the car!
Draw their fire!
Don't sh**t!
I... didn't tell them.
I...
I didn't.
Come on, Sean!
Sean.
Aye, look. Like a
ghost out of the night.
I thought you were done for.
Hey, Dermot, get some whiskey.
Come and sit down.
Here, lad, take these.
Here, take a good sip
out of that now.
How many did we lose?
O'Brien, Tommy Connor.
And Kitty Brady.
Yes. It was bad.
But it's all over now.
- Over?
- Yes, it's the truce, man.
Just waiting for
the General's signature.
Tomorrow, we're all free.
Free to vote for the men
of our own choice.
Aye, and against them
If we wish.
Oh, it's you, O'Shea.
Well, I'm happy you made it.
General,
tell him about the truce.
I'm off to London
with a safe conduct.
By dawn, the fight will be over.
Michael, go down to the
lighthouse, fetch Mrs. Curtis,
return her to her father.
I'll do that, General.
This day has been
a long time coming.
Michael, I'm gonna go with you.
If you like, lad.
Michael, its headquarters
about Lady Fitzhugh.
Mrs. Curtis?
Get up.
What is it? What's happened?
Lady Fitzhugh is dead.
Sean...
this can't bring
Lady Fitzhugh back.
We have no choice.
Let go of me, Willie.
The commandant and the woman.
- Where?
- On the hill.
Lenihan!
I know how you feel about her.
You shouldn't have
come to see it happen.
It isn't going to happen.
There's a truce.
They've gone to London
to negotiate a treaty!
If they sign, they'll
die like anybody else.
And you'll fight a w*r of your
own! Your own private little w*r!
If I have to.
Just to keep the b*ll*ts flying!
You've forgotten
what you're fighting for!
It isn't Ireland or freedom
or any of those fancy words
you use to excuse yourself.
It's just k*lling now.
For the sake of k*lling!
I'll need men. We'll go to the
west and build a new army.
Are you with me, Noonan?
Aw, Sean,
a treaty could mean peace.
Lafferty.
O'Callaghan.
Tom. Tom Cassidy.
You're traitors, traitors all of
you, but I'll take care of you
when the time comes.
Right now, Ireland
owes a debt to Lady Fitzhugh.
You wouldn't be thinking of
sh**ting me, would you, Kerry?
Don't make me do it.
Was I mistaken in you?
I thought you were a soldier.
I'm not going to fight your w*r!