AS EASTER DREW near, Liberty Hall became a hive of activity: preparations for the rebellion were in hand. Beneath the ground floor of the union building, men worked secretly, making bullets, grenades and bombs, stockpiling a large arsenal of weapons. Only a few weeks earlier the DMP had raided the union’s shop, where Rosie and Helena worked, and everyone had been terrified they would find the hidden arms supply.
‘They’ll be back,’ warned Helena ominously.
James Connolly and Michael Mallin had called all members of the Irish Citizen Army together, asking them ‘Are you prepared to fight for Ireland’s freedom?’ and ‘Are you prepared to fight alongside the Irish Volunteers?’
‘Yes!’ answered Nellie proudly, aware that she was pledging her commitment to fight in the rebellion that would soon begin.
William Partridge had often suggested to James Connolly that they fly the green flag of the Irish Republic over Liberty Hall.
‘Wouldn’t it be a grand thing to have the green flag flying there proudly for the entire world to see?’
Now Connolly finally agreed that the time had come for the flag, the symbol of Irish freedom, to fly over the union building and the date was set for Palm Sunday, the Sunday before Easter. Notice of the event was printed in the Workers’ Republic.
When the day came, Nellie joined the thousands of people gathered in the April sunshine. Beresford Square was packed, as were Butt Bridge and O’Connell Bridge. Tara Street and all the roads around were blocked, with huge crowds of people lining up along the quays and the river, everyone craning to witness the momentous occasion of a green Irish flag without the crown being flown over such a public building.
The Citizen Army stood in formation on three sides of the square outside Liberty Hall, Nellie joining her friends in the women’s section. The Boy Scouts and the Fintan Lalor Pipe Band stood all together in the warm open air. James Connolly, in his Citizen Army uniform, smiled as he, Commandant Mallin and Countess Markievicz took in the huge crowds that had come to witness the event despite rumours that the army might intervene to prevent such a display of nationalism.
Great care had been taken in choosing the colour-bearer who would have the honour of raising the flag and Connolly had finally picked sixteen-year-old Molly O’Reilly, a member of the Women Workers’ Union and the Citizen Army. Molly, who lived on Gardiner Street, had helped Nellie in the soup kitchens during the Lockout and Nellie believed that the choice of such a bright young woman demonstrated James Connolly’s and the union’s regard for both women and the working class.
Molly was escorted by a colour guard-of-honour. Everyone fell hushed as she stepped forward and James Connolly officially handed her the green flag while the guards presented arms and the buglers sounded the salute. Captain Kit Poole and a guard of sixteen men then escorted her as she carried the flag into Liberty Hall.
Nellie held her breath, the crowds silent, until a few minutes later a radiant Molly appeared up on the roof. Everyone watched as the flag was hoisted and began to unfurl, catching the wind and blowing proudly in the clear blue Dublin sky, the green flag of Ireland with its golden harp flying there for everyone to see.
A huge roar erupted, the crowds bursting into tumultuous applause and cheering, hats flung in the air. Nellie herself was overcome with emotion, tears filling her eyes. Looking around, she could see that the men beside her were equally affected, as were many others in the crowd.
The pipe band began to play joyfully as the cheering and celebrations continued. Connolly ordered the Citizen Army battalion to present arms as the bugles sounded again, then he asked all those present to be prepared to give their lives if necessary to keep the Irish flag flying.
Looking up, Nellie thought of the regiments of young Irish soldiers that passed by Liberty Hall on their way to being shipped out to fight in the war. For many, this fluttering green flag might be one of the last sights they had of the country they loved.
That night Connolly called them together to tell them that the ‘Rising’ would happen next week. He instructed them in ways to occupy and burrow through buildings, and to fight from the rooftops.
‘The odds are a thousand to one against us,’ he explained gravely.
Looking into his brown eyes and seeing the sincerity, courage and integrity there, Nellie knew that she, like everyone else, was ready to follow James Connolly and fight.