Verse transcribed by Sean Whelan (Enniscorthy, Wexford), Tintown Camp, 'on the second day of the fight for freedom':

'Oh God! to have fought, to have won, to have died
Defending the old flag
By sweet Slaney side.

Quote from Terence MacSwiney transcribed by Joe Harrington, Internee 3544, Tintown Camp No 3:

'No physical victory can compensate for spiritual surrender'

Verse transcribed by Paddy Quinn (Kildare), Hut 11, Rath Camp:

'We're getting darn little to eat or drink
We're getting darn to ware
And we're all living wild now here in the clink
On the Curragh of Kildare
The margarine question is being discusted
And our own quarter of bread is now dry
If it is not soon settled our axles
will rust and then sure I'm damned, we must die.

Verse by T. P. Duke transcribed by Tomás Ó Dúigh (Clare), Rath Camp:

'The Strike
Act 1
A rush. A cheer. A bursting of doors
with bedboard or with spike
Locks flying in Air, Ah! it's the
Boys in camp have gone on strike
The Guard called out their wind is up
in vain they bawl and shout
but the Boys don't seem to mind them
in groups they walk about.'

Signatures of P. Ó Maille and Domhnall Ó Chaomh (Tipperary), at Tintown No 3 Camp.

Note by P. Ó Rioghardán, Tintown No 3 Camp:

'Did you hear anything? Yes. They can't keep us long now.'

Verse transcribed by Frank McGuinness (Kilbeggan), Hut 31, Rath Camp:

'Our Flag

We raised it up - no foot shall back
A step upon the forward track
For tis not in the days of wrath
When woe and darkness haunt our path
It is not when the gallows tree
Is decked with fruits of liberty -
That we should bend the knee or pull
Thee down 'Our homes beautiful'.

Verse transcribed by P. Bracken, Internee 3362 (Clonaslee, Laois), Hut 12, Tintown Camp:

'Remember me when this you see
Remember me forever
And don't forget the days we spent
in Tintown together'

Verse transcribed by M. Galvin, Tintown No 3 Camp:

'Silent and cold thou art now at rest
'Neath the sanctified sod, in the land thou loved best
Thro' tears and thro' sighs we think of the same
That the traitors have placed on Ireland's fair name
Oh! Rory O Connor thy name and thy story
Are engraved in our hearts and crowned there with glory.
Tho' thy pulse has stopped beating thy shade is to-day
With the loved ones who perished that old
Ireland might say
Tho' grim death awaits us we'll have not a sigh
For our own motto is Freedom for that Freedom we'll die
On the green sod of Erin, our life's blood will flow
Until Ireland a nation conquers the foe.'