The unrest begins on August 12 with the Battle of the Bogside in Derry’s predominantly CatholicBogside district. Tensions have been building for over a year due to long-standing nationalist grievances, including political discrimination and gerrymandering that has kept the city under Unionist control since 1925. The violence erupts during the annual Apprentice Boys’ march, when Protestant marchers pass through the Catholic area, provoking clashes with residents.
On August 13, nationalist protests spread to other towns, including Belfast, Armagh, Dungannon, and Newry. In Belfast, seven people are killed and hundreds wounded, with many Catholic civilians shot by police. Loyalists attack Catholic homes, and both republican and loyalist paramilitaries are involved. Over 150 homes are destroyed, and 1,800 families are displaced.
By August 14, the British government deploys 300 troops from the 1st Battalion, Prince of Wales’s Own Regiment of Yorkshire to County Londonderry, replacing the exhausted RUC. The move is initially welcomed by some residents, but it remains clear that the violence has not been contained. The deployment marks the start of Operation Banner, the British Army’s long-term presence in Northern Ireland.
The riots and protests are widely regarded as the beginning of the Troubles, a 30-year conflict. The British Army’s presence, the establishment of peace lines to separate Catholic and Protestant areas, and the Republic of Ireland’s call for a United Nations peacekeeping force reflect the deepening crisis.
In short, August 14, 1969, is the day British troops enter Northern Ireland to restore order after days of nationalist-led protests and riots, events that define the region’s political landscape for decades.
The killing is widely seen as a political act, with Dunne and O’Sullivan claiming to have acted in defence of Irish nationalist principles, blaming Wilson for the “Orange Terror” and the deployment of the Ulster Special Constabulary (USC). Some historians suggest the assassination may have been intended to pressure Michael Collins to attack the Four Courts garrison, though no conclusive evidence of orders was ever established.
After the shooting, Dunne escapes but O’Sullivan is captured by a hostile crowd. Dunne attempts to rescue him but is himself arrested after wounding two police officers and a passerby. Both are tried quickly, found guilty after just three minutes of deliberation, and sentenced to death by Justice Montague Shearman.
Despite petitions from 45,000 people and appeals from figures like George Bernard Shaw, both men are executed on August 10, 1922, and buried within the prison grounds.
The executions are a major political flashpoint. It is only after the abolition of hanging that the law is changed and Joseph’s brother, with the assistance of the Irish National Graves Association, is able to arrange for the bodies of the two men to be repatriated to Ireland.
Dunne’s trial speech, reprinted in the Irish Independent, remains a notable piece of republican political rhetoric, framing the act as a necessary stand for Irish rights.
(Pictured: Joseph O’Sullivan (left) and Reginald Dunne (right))
Burke is born into an influential Drogheda family, the Burkes of Duleek Street. His father, also named Christopher Patrick Burke, is a gas works secretary, and his mother is Mary McQuillan. The family lives initially on Coola Street before moving to Duleek Street after his father’s death in 1906.
Raised in a well-off household, Burke’s early years are shaped by the nationalist and cultural revival movements of the time, including the Gaelic League, which fosters physical resilience and republican ideals. His family connections, including to fellow revolutionary Thomas Burke, provide him with early exposure to Sinn Féin and Irish Volunteers activities.
Burke operates under the nom de guerre “Seán Jones” (also “Seaghan Mac Seaghan”) and is captured on at least one occasion by British forces, later released in a prisoner exchange.
During the Irish Civil War, Burke undertakes a 23-day hunger strike, reflecting his continued commitment to republican resistance against the Irish Free State.
In 1932, Burke is brought to court by his older brother, Michael, after assaulting him in the family home on Duleek Street, Drogheda. The house had been left to Michael in the will of their aunt Jane McQuillan, who died in 1919, leaving the premises to him, but requiring his mother and two sisters, Mary “Maise” and Christina Mary “Tena”, to be supported there. However, Burke insists on living there, along with his brother Joseph, leading to a family dispute. The Justice rules that the will gives Michael Burke the ownership of the house and the tenants subject to the charges set out in it. He fines Burke five shillings.
After this, Burke goes into the dairy business with his brother Joseph, and builds a house on the family farm in Bryanstown, County Meath. He dies from coronary occlusion at the age of 65 in his home on June 23, 1964. His sister, Christina Mary “Tena” Burke is present at his death. His requiem mass is celebrated at St. Mary’s Church in Drogheda. His republican comrades attend the funeral, and the Mayor of Drogheda and members of the Drogheda Corporation walk in the cortége wearing their robes of office.
Burke’s contributions to the IRA’s armament production and his steadfast republican stance cements his place in Irish revolutionary history. His life bridges the technical skills of a craftsman with the political resolve of a nationalist leader, making him a notable figure in the struggle for Irish independence.
Brennan is the second of two children to Patrick Brennan of the Catholic parish of Beauparc and Catherine Brennan (née Rourke). Little is recorded of his early education, but he develops a reputation as an intelligent and articulate public speaker. At age 18, he begins working as a clerk at Murtagh Bros., a Dublin-based bakery, alongside his uncle James Rourke. Through his connections with Patrick Egan, he and his uncle join the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) and become active in election campaigns and nationalist organizing.
By 1877–1878, Brennan has become the civil secretary of the Leinster IRB and honorary secretary of the Dublin Mechanics Institute. In 1879, he plays an instrumental role in establishing the Land League of Mayo, acting alongside Michael Davitt and Patrick Egan. When the Irish National Land League is formally founded in October 1879, Brennan is appointed assistant secretary, effectively helping manage the League’s operations and campaigns for tenant farmers.
Brennan is known for his eloquence at public rallies, often linking land agitation to Irish nationalist objectives and espousing radical, egalitarian ideas. During the Land League’s activities, he faces trial for encouraging non-payment of rent but is not convicted. He later takes on the duties of national secretary after Davitt’s arrest and authorizes the issuance of the “No Rent Manifesto” from Kilmainham Gaol in 1881, a pivotal document in Ireland’s land struggle.
Following internal shifts in Irish nationalist politics and limitations placed on his influence by Charles Stewart Parnell, Brennan emigrates to the United States. He works for Patrick Ford’s Irish World newspaper in New York City, critiquing aspects of the Irish Parliamentary Party (IPP) and emphasizing non-violent republican principles. By 1883, he settles in Omaha, Nebraska, partnering with Patrick Egan in the Omaha Mortgage Company, specializing in real estate, investment, and insurance. He becomes a respected businessman and seeks to maintain connections with the Irish American nationalist community.
Brennan never marries and eventually dedicates himself to business in Omaha. He passes away on December 19, 1912, in Omaha, Nebraska, having left a lasting impact on Irish land reform efforts and the nationalist movement. He is buried in Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in Omaha.
Brennan is remembered as a founder and key administrator of the Irish National Land League, a signatory of the “No Rent Manifesto,” and a prominent voice in the Irish republican movement. His advocacy helps shape the course of land reform in Ireland and fosters Irish nationalist sentiment both domestically and among the diaspora.
Sources confirm that his activism, speeches, and organizational skill were central to the Land League’s influence, and he remains a notable figure in 19th-century Irish political history.
Mitchel, a writer for The Nation and founder of his own journal, United Irishman, openly preaches rebellion against England. Convicted of treason in 1848, he is sentenced to fourteen years transportation in Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania). In 1853, he escapes to the United States, where he publishes his Jail Journal. While in the United States, he is editor of the Richmond Examiner and a strong advocate of Confederate rights and champions slavery. He is imprisoned for several months following the end of the American Civil War.
Mitchel’s return visit to Ireland is prompted by political developments in the Irish Parliamentary Party (IPP), which has nominated him for seats in Cork City and Tipperary without informing him. His well-known skepticism toward constitutional “moral force” agitation makes it uncertain whether he will accept the nomination, but the nomination proceeds anyway.
Mitchel’s return is unexpected, yet is met with public acclaim. Upon arriving in Queenstown (now Cobh, County Cork), he is met by a large crowd, and when he reaches Cork, a procession of ten thousand people escorts him to his hotel. This demonstrates the respect and support he still commands among Irish nationalists, despite his exile in the United States since 1853.
Mitchel then goes to Newry, his native town, where he stays for a few months to recuperate his health and await any opportunity to be elected to Parliament. However, no parliamentary vacancy arises during his stay, and he eventually returns to New York City in October 1872.
Mitchel’s return is part of a pattern of political activity in his later years. In 1875, he is again nominated for Tipperary, elected without opposition, and declared an abstentionistMP — but his election is overturned by the British government on the grounds of his previous felony conviction. He dies in March 1875 in Dromolane, County Down, in the same house where he was born.
In summary, July 25, 1872, marks the beginning of a brief but politically charged visit to Ireland for John Mitchel, a figure remembered for his uncompromising republican stance and his role in the Young Ireland movement.
On July 21, 1920, the Belfast Shipyard Expulsions take place as thousands of Catholic workers and socialists in Belfast’s shipyards are attacked and driven from their jobs following Edward Carson’s speech on the Twelfth at Finaghy during the annual industrial holiday. This day marks the first day back at work after the holiday, and the violence erupts in the shipyards, particularly in the Harland & Wolff yards.
The disturbances are part of a wider Belfast pogrom in 1920, rooted in sectarian tensions between unionist and nationalist communities. The Twelfth of July celebrations in Finaghy have been a focal point for nationalist and socialist mobilisation, and Carson’s speech is seen by many Catholic workers as inflammatory, stoking fears of reprisals.
The targeted groups of the expulsions include Catholic workers, trade unionists, and socialist activists, many of whom are from the working class “plebeian” strata. Reports describe beatings, assaults, and intimidation in the shipyards, with workers being pushed out of their posts or forced to leave premises. The expulsions disrupt shipbuilding operations, as skilled labour is removed from the workforce overnight. The events reinforce sectarian divisions, with unionist groups and some employers using the violence to assert control over the workforce.
By July 1920, newspapers are the main source of news, with current affairs often appearing on later pages. Coverage in papers such as the Belfast News Letter, Belfast Telegraph, The Irish Times, and Freeman’s Journaldescribe the expulsions as part of a broader outbreak of violence, but without the front-page headlines typical of later conflicts. The absence of radio broadcasts means that news is spread through print, handbills, and word of mouth.
The July 21, 1920, expulsions are a turning point in the sectarian conflict in Belfast, marking a shift from political mobilisation to direct, violent confrontation in the industrial heart of the city. They reflect the deep entrenchment of sectarianism in the shipbuilding industry and foreshadow further violence in the years leading up to the Irish Civil War.
On July 14, 1910, the Irish Socialist Federation (ISF) in New York City hosts a farewell dinner for James Connolly, marking the end of his time as its leader. This event is a significant moment in his career, as he had been instrumental in founding the Federation on March 29, 1907, and has been its driving force in organizing Irish socialist and trade union activity in the United States.
By 1910, Connolly has been active in the socialist movement in the United States for several years. He initially joins the Socialist Labor Party of America but becomes a full-time organizer for the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) from 1905 to 1910, aligning with its syndicalist approach. His work with the Irish Socialist Federation has been central to building a network of Irish workers in America, linking them to socialist principles and Irish nationalist aspirations.
The July 14, 1910, dinner is a public acknowledgment of Connolly’s contributions and a symbolic send-off as he prepares to return to Ireland. Upon his return, he takes on a major role in the Irish Transport and General Workers Union (ITGWU), first in Belfast and then in Dublin, and later becomes acting General Secretary and Commandant of the Irish Citizen Army (ICA).
The political and labor impact of the event underscores Connolly’s growing influence in both the Irish socialist movement abroad and the domestic labor struggle. It reflects the Federation’s commitment to supporting Irish socialist leaders and their work in the United States and Ireland. It is also remembers as a key moment in Connolly’s transition from U.S. organizer to a central figure in the Irish labor and republican movements.
In short, the July 14, 1910, farewell dinner is both a personal farewell and a political milestone, highlighting Connolly’s role as a bridge between Irish socialism in the United States and the emerging labor and republican movements in Ireland.
Wilson begins his priestly career as a hospital chaplain, where he becomes aware of the systemic neglect and exploitation of women. This experience shapes his later advocacy for marginalized groups. In 1966, he is assigned to St. John’s parish in Ballymurphy, a heavily working class and nationalist area. Confronted with poverty, deprivation, and social neglect, he rejects a purely clerical role and chooses to live among his parishioners, earning deep community trust.
Wilson facilitates grassroots initiatives such as the Springhill Community House and the Conway Education Centre, establishing spaces for alternative education, vocational training, small business incubators, and cultural engagement. These efforts emphasize the empowerment of local communities, adult education, and economic development, drawing inspiration from liberation theology and Worker Priest models.
Wilson’s ministry coincides with some of the most violent years of the Northern Ireland Troubles. He provides support to families affected by violence, offers shelter and practical assistance, and maintains dialogue channels between republican and loyalist communities. He criticizes the Catholic Church for its detachment from the struggles of working class Catholics and refuses to condemn paramilitary groups acting as “alternative police and armies,” reflecting his nuanced approach to community protection and justice. Alongside figures like Fr. Alec Reid, he is instrumental in mediating discussions that contribute toward the peace process.
Wilson’s work earns widespread admiration for his courage, humanity, and commitment to justice. He hosts Mother Teresa in west Belfast, helping to establish charitable outreach in the community. Despite periods of estrangement with his bishop and being barred from celebrating Mass in churches, he continues his ministry at home and through community projects.
Wilson is also a prolific writer, recording diaries, pamphlets, and weekly columns, later commemorated in the documentary “Fr. Des – The Way He Saw It” narrated by Stephen Rea, and in theatre productions celebrating his life. PresidentMichael D. Higgins and countless individuals recognize his significant role in civil rights, education, and peacemaking.
Wilson dies in Belfast on November 5, 2019, at the age of 94, leaving a lasting impact on Belfast and a model for socially committed clergy worldwide. His approach to ministry stands as a testament to living faith in solidarity with marginalized communities, emphasizing education, dialogue, and justice over institutional authority.
The institutions Wilson helps create, notably the Springhill Community House and Conway Mill, continue to support education, enterprise, and community engagement in Belfast, embodying Wilson’s vision of an empowered, inclusive society. His life remains an inspiration for those committed to social justice, peacebuilding, and community-centered ministry.
Wilson is remembered as a priest,educator, community activist, and mediator, whose dedication to the underprivileged and commitment to peace has left an indelible mark on Northern Ireland.
The unrest was triggered by the Orange Order’s permission to march its traditional route through the Garvaghy Road in Portadown, County Armagh, a Catholic/nationalist area, as part of the annual Drumcree parading dispute. The Orange Order, a Protestant fraternal organization, has marched this route since 1807 to commemorate the Battle of the Boyne. For decades, Catholic residents object to the route, seeing it as a sectarian provocation.
The decision to allow the march comes after death threats from loyalistparamilitaries to target Catholics if the parade is stopped. This concession outrages nationalists, who also resent the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC)’s aggressive policing of protesters.
On July 6, around 1,000 Orangemen march under a sealed-off Garvaghy Road, with about 1,500 RUC and British Army personnel present. The next day, mass protests erupt in areas like North Belfast, Lurgan, and west Belfast’s Lenadoon district. Rioters hurl stones, petrol bombs, and other projectiles at security forces, while Republican paramilitaries engage in gun battles with police.
Security forces responded with plastic bullets and other riot control measures, firing over 2,500 plastic bullets at rioters. A 13-year-old boy is critically injured after being struck by one. Hundreds of vehicles are hijacked, set on fire, and used to block roads in Belfast, Newry, Armagh, and Dungannon. The RUC and British Army have to withdraw entirely from some nationalist areas of Belfast.
One civilian is killed in the rioting and over 100 people are injured, including 62 RUC officers and at least three soldiers. One hundred seventeen arrests are made and some armoured vehicles are either damaged or destroyed. An indirectly related incident sees a loyalist Ulster Defence Association (UDA) member killed by a pipe bomb he is handling.
The riots highlight the fragility of peace efforts and deepen divisions over parading rights. The episode leads Secretary of State for Northern IrelandMo Mowlam to urge Orange leaders to reroute future marches. For the Provisional Irish Republican Army, the riots are its last major action in a 27-year campaign. It declares its final ceasefire on July 19, 1997.
The 1997 riots are the last widespread sectarian violence in Northern Ireland before the Good Friday Agreement, underscoring the unresolved nature of the Drumcree dispute and the challenges of achieving lasting peace.
(Pictured: “Drumcree, The Garvaghy Road July 1997” by military artist David Rowlands, oil on canvas, owned by the 1st Battalion (The Cheshires) The Mercian Regiment which depicts British soldiers during the rioting on Garvaghy Road)
Barry returns to Bandon in early 1919. He describes in his guerilla days in Ireland a Damascus-like conversion to Irish nationalism on hearing of the Easter Rising while with the Mesopotamian expeditionary force, but he is only accepted into the IRA with considerable caution. Initially tested in intelligence and training work, in mid-1920 he takes charge of the new brigade flying column, which is used both to train officers and to stage offensive actions.
Barry adapts his military experience successfully to the demands of guerrilla warfare, becoming the most famed of column leaders during the Irish War of Independence. In his memoirs, he pours scorn on the obsession of many with military titles and orthodox procedure, complaining of a “paper army.” He stresses the need for spontaneity, initiative, and knowledge of local conditions. “The reality,” he writes, “was a group of fellows, mostly in caps and not-too-expensive clothing, wondering how to tackle their job and where they would sleep that night or get their supper.” (The Reality of the Anglo–Irish War (1974)). He well realises that the war’s character does not permit any close control from the IRA’s GHQ in Dublin, hence increasing the importance of local leaders. His tactics put strong emphasis on speed of movement and on the need to attack the enemy at his weakest point. The column’s ambush successes are small in number but among the best-remembered of the war. He admits, however, that his own and his column’s lack of experience with mines frequently weakened their offensives.
The column’s first successful ambush is at Tooreen on October 22, 1920, followed on November 28 by the dramatic ambushing of a patrol of auxiliaries at Kilmichael while traveling from their Macroom base. A column of thirty-six men, divided into three sections, kill sixteen auxiliaries, with one captured and later shot, suffering two fatalities of their own. Controversy has raged since over whether a false surrender by the British force caused the brutality of some of the deaths. Together with the Bloody Sunday killings of a week earlier in Dublin, Kilmichael has a profound effect on the British military and political establishment, with the declaration in December of martial law for much of Munster and the implementation of wide-ranging internment, together with the authorisation of official reprisals.
After a short period in hospital with a heart condition, in early 1921 Barry leads unsuccessful attacks on Kilbrittain, Innishannon, Drimoleague, and Bandon barracks. The seizure of Burgatia House, outside Rosscarbery, in early February, and the successful resistance made there to British troops, wins much publicity but has little military significance. He is a leading figure in the brutal final stage of the war in the first six months of 1921, which sees widespread shooting of suspected spies and destruction of loyalist property. By March 1921, his flying column, with 104 men, is easily the largest in Ireland, and an explosives expert, Capt. McCarthy, has joined them.
The protracted engagement between Barry’s column and encircling British forces at Crossbarry on March 19, 1921, comes at a time when large-scale sweeps are making life increasingly difficult for the IRA. It consists of a daring and courageous breakout. Crossbarry is the largest action of the war, and Barry is to regard it as even more important than Kilmichael. Soon afterwards, Rosscarbery barracks is successfully attacked by a Barry-led party, representing one of the few successful such initiatives in 1921. Isolated triumphs, however, cannot hide the fact that pressure is increasing on the column, and he becomes increasingly critical of inactive regions. He is later to say that all County Kerry does during the war is to shoot one decent police inspector at Listowel Racecourse and a colleague of his. He is strongly critical also of the lack of assistance from GHQ and of the divisionalisation policy. He visits Dublin in May, travels around with Michael Collins, and is present when two American officers demonstrate the Thompson submachine gun. He is more aware than most of his 1st Southern Division colleagues of the scarcity of arms and ammunition at the war’s end.
During the truce, Barry becomes liaison officer for Munster, riling the British by insisting on his military rank, and criticising the IRA liaison men in Dublin for being overly deferential. He joins the overwhelming majority of the Cork IRA in opposing the Anglo–Irish Treaty but plays a characteristically maverick role throughout the treaty split. His independent attitude is heightened by his dislike of Liam Lynch, the republican IRA’s Chief of Staff, and his continuing respect for Michael Collins. He shows impatience at the long-drawn-out peace initiatives. In March 1922, therefore, he advocates armed confrontation with pro-treaty units over the occupation of barracks in Limerick, and on June 18 he submits a resolution, which only narrowly fails, at the army convention, giving British troops seventy-two hours to leave Dublin.
At the beginning of the Irish Civil War, Barry is arrested entering the Four Courts disguised as a woman. He escapes from an internment camp at Gormanston in early September 1922. For the rest of the war his actions mirror its confused nature. In late October 1922, he leads successful raids on the small towns of Ballineen and Enniskean, and later on Inchigeelagh and Ballyvourney. In December his column takes Carrick-on-Suir, demonstrating the weakness of the Free State army, but his talk of advancing on the Curragh and of large-scale actions does not materialise. There is no evidence that he is acting in accordance with any coordinated plan. By February 1923, he realises that the Republican IRA cause is hopeless and he is involved with Fr. Tom Duggan in efforts to get 1st Southern Division to declare a ceasefire. He journeys to Dublin to put pressure on the intransigent Lynch in this connection, telling Lynch, “I did more fighting in one week than you did in your whole life.”
Barry avoids capture in roundups after the war, remaining on the run until 1924. Unlike many republicans, he does not turn to constitutionalism, remaining strongly militaristic. He is always an unreconstructed republican, though by no means a naive one. In 1924 he becomes attached to Cleeves Milk Co., based in Limerick and Clonmel, and from 1927 to retirement in 1965 is general superintendent with the Cork harbour commissioners. He strongly advocates preserving the independence of the IRA army executive during the republican split of 1925–27. He is instrumental in continuing the drilling of IRA members and is a strong supporter of armed opposition to the Blueshirts.
During the 1930s Barry is arrested at various times for possession of arms and seditious utterances. He promotes an attack against a Freemasons’ meeting in Cork in 1936 and gives the orders for the killing on March 4 of that year of Vice-AdmiralHenry Boyle Somerville. He is opposed to the use by Frank Ryan of IRA volunteers to support the republican cause in the Spanish Civil War and to the proposals of Seán Russell for a bombing campaign in England. To maintain the link with traditional republicanism, he is elected IRA chief of staff in 1937. His plan, however, for the seizure of Armagh city, as part of a direct northern offensive, quickly collapses due to a leak of information, and he soon resigns his position. He forcefully attacks the bombing of English cities in 1938, regarding attacks on innocent civilians as immoral and counterproductive. He enlists in the National Army on July 12, 1940, only to be demobilised a month later. In 1946, he stands as an independent candidate in a by-election in the Cork Borough constituency, finishing at the bottom of the poll. He is more comfortable the following year touring the United States on an anti-partition platform.
In 1949 his Guerilla Days in Ireland is published. It proves a best-seller and has frequently been reprinted. It is well written in a forceful and direct style, one memoir needing no assistance from a ghost writer. Age does not mellow him: lawyers and bank managers are threatened by him over matters relating to his own column, and in 1974 he publishes a fierce pamphlet, angry at perceived slights in the Irish War of Independence memoir of Liam Deasy. He does strive to achieve a public reconciliation with Collins’s memory by unveiling the memorial to Collins at Sam’s Cross in 1966. On the outbreak of the Northern Ireland crisis in the late 1960s, he takes a militant line, castigating the argument that the Six Counties can be brought into the Republic by peaceful means, and asking when had peaceful means existed there. At the memorial meeting in Carrowkennedy, County Mayo, in 1971, he claims that there is a perfect right at the opportune time to take the Six Counties by force. He remains opposed to IRA bombing of civilian targets.
Barry dies in Cork on July 2, 1980. He is buried in St. Finbarr’s Cemetery, Cork. Early in the truce of 1921 he marries Leslie Price, one of the most active of Cumann na mBan members during and after the rising. They have no children.
While Barry always remains an influential figure in republican circles, he will be remembered best as the pioneer of guerrilla warfare, the hero of Kilmichael and Crossbarry. His military flair, individualism, and ruthlessness are well suited to the 1919–21 conflict. After that, his strained relations with colleagues and his lack of flexibility reduce his importance. While his life after the revolutionary era appears anti-climactic, he retains much of his charisma. In later years, he is ever willing to remind politicians and historians how far Ireland has retreated from republican ideals. He is often prickly and autocratic yet could be generous to old colleagues of either side of the treaty split. He is arguably the most intelligent but also the most intolerant of the revolutionary leaders.
(From: “Barry, Thomas Bernadine (‘Tom’)” by M. A. Hopkinson, Dictionary of Irish Biography, http://www.dib.ie, October 2009)
