A FAMILY OF IRISH HEROES

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XLII, Issue 39, 7 October 1915, Page 49

A FAMILY OF IRISH HEROES

FATHER AND. SONS. ALL SOLDIERS. ? ; —* This is a very plain tale (writes Mr. James Douglas in the London Daily News). . It is told, in the first place, in order to catch the eye of his Majesty King George, so that due honor may be done to a very noble mother and to her very noble sons. It is told, in the second place, in-order that every man, woman, and child in these little islands and in their sister-lands all over the world may admire and emulate its ardor of -matchless self-sacrifice and simple duty, simply done by obscure and humble souls. It is told, in'the third place, in order that the English people, the Welsh people, and the Scottish people may, with a common gesture of reverence, salute the Irish people, that has bred a woman so very great and men so very gallant. In, the little town of Loughrea, County Galway, there lives an Irish mother whose heart is peopled with many sorrows. Her name is Mrs. Fury. She is a mourning widow, who deserves to be chiselled in marble like the mourning widows of the great Serbian sculptor, Mestrovic.

This is Her Incredible Story,

a story the like of which I have never heard or read in all the annals of war. Her husband, now dead, was a soldier in the Connaught Rangers, one John Fury. He served in that famous regiment for twentyone years, and died, full of years and honor, in 1903. . A year ago, on the second of August, Mrs. Fury gave all her sons to the cause of the Allies —no fewer than ten strong men. The story of her ten heroic sons is without precedent or parallel in the records of war, ancient or modern. Homer himself never had such a story to sing.

To begin with, there is Michael Fury, a reservist with nine years' service in lie Royal Irish Rifles. When the war broke out he went back to the colors, and at this moment he is fighting in Flanders. Another son, Edward Fury, is also a soldier in the Royal Irish Rifles. He fought in the desperate fight at Mons. He was severely wounded in the breast: and shoulder, and is now in a Dublin hospital. All her other eight sons followed in the footsteps of their gallant father, and enlisted in their father's regiment, the Oonnaught Rangers. I am told that one battalion of this renowned regiment has been completely wiped out in Flanders, and has been merged in the other battalion. Of Mrs. Fury's eight sons in the Connaught Rangers, five have died on the field of battle in Flanders. Malachy Fury was killed on April 7 at Ypres, Martin Francis Fury was killed somewhere in France or Flanders, no one knows where or when. Willie Fury was killed somewhere in France or Flanders, no one knows where or when. Henry Fury was killed somewhere in France or Flanders, no one knows where or when. W. J. Fury was killed somewhere in France or Flanders, no one knows where or when. The bare news of the death of these five sons came to their mother of many sorrows, together with a formal letter of sympathy from the King and Lord Kitchener. Mrs. Fury does not know how they died, or where or when. All she knows is that they gave their lives for Their King and Country, and the great good causesomewhere in France or Flanders. I have accounted for five of Mrs. Fury's sons serving in the Connaught Rangers. What of the other three ? One of them served in the Connaught Rangers in India. He was called up from the reserve and was invalided out of the service. Thomas Fury was a soldier in the second battalion of the Connaught Rangers. He fought in the great retreat from Mons, was captured, and is now a prisoner of war somewhere in Germany. John Fury, after serving for four years in the Connaught Rangers, was wounded at Givenchy. It was from the lips of John Fury that I heard the whole story of the Furys. John Fury is a handsome young Irishman, clear of

eye, and clean of limb. He is twenty-two years of age: 1 was a few days ago the guest of Colonel Lewin, D. 5.0., commanding the third battalion of the Connaught Rangers at Kinsale. There in the barracks he did me the honor of introducing me to John- Fury, a straight upstanding young warrior, with a.shattered arm. Very simply and very modestly John Fury told me the story of his wounds. > . :■ "-' ~. --'" "■» The Connaught Rangers were in the firing line at Givenchy. John Fury was chosen to carry under fire a message from his company officer to his commanding officer. He delivered the message and was coming back. The Germans threw a grenade into the trench. John Fury is left-handed. He instantly picked up the grenade and was in the act of throwing it back at the Germans when it burst, wounding Captain O'Callaghan, killing two men, and shattering John Fury's arm. 'Captain O'Callaghan,' said a brother officer, "has died since —we called him "Daisy" O'Callaghan.' As he told his story, John Fury stood up straight as a dart, with his left arm in a sling. There he was, still in the old barracks with his comrades, still suffering, still in . pain. Greatly marvelling at his stoical fortitude, I said to him:

' Did you know that you were risking your life when you picked up the grenade?'

His answer was a simple and soldierly answer.

would have been twelve or thirteen of us killed in the trench. I knew it was my duty.'

Could Words be Nobler ?

' I knew it was my duty.' In those simple words is crystallised the whole story of the gallant Furys. It is the story of the British army. It is the story of the Irish regiments in the British army. Private John Fury has received no reward for doing his duty. Nor does he ask for or expect any reward. But everybody who reads his story will -that if any soldier has earned the V.C., Private John Fury has earned it. For his own sake, for the sake of his famous regiment, for the sake of Ireland, for the sake of his brave dead father, for the sake of his heroic mother, and for the sake of his five dead brothers, I hope the King will pin it on his gallant breast. There is more to tell. John Fury has a sister. She is the wife of Sergeant O'Neill, who is also in the Connaught Rangers. What of old Mrs. Fury Her son told me that she refused to allow a word about her

sufferings and sacrifices to be printed in the newspapers. I hope she will forgive-me for telling her heroic story. Her son was asked if there was anything that could be done for him. His only wish was to be with his mother on the anniversary of the day in August upon which all the house went to the war. She was dreading that day, and he was afraid she would not live through it, and its tragic memories. It is not for me to say what the nation ought to do in order to show to Mrs. Fury and her sons its pride and its gratitude. It can hardly do too much. The telling of their noble story is enough. I know what the Germans would do if they had a story like it to cherish."