"Banna Strand" (also known as "The Lonely Banna Strand" - "The Ballad of Roger Casement" is a different song) is an Irish rebel song about the failed transport of arms into Ireland for use in the Easter Rising. Authorship of the song is unknown. The final verse was written by Derek Warfield of the Wolfe Tones in 1965 when Roger Casement's remains were finally returned to Ireland.
The first and second verses were re-written in 2016 by 'Tintean' a Kerry-based folk group, to provide a more factual and historically correct depiction of events.
'On the twenty first of April, good Friday at the dawn.A German boat was seen to float outside of Carrahane.'With twenty thousand rifles, all ready for to land.'And waiting for a signalfrom the shores of Banna Strand. A motor-car was dashing through the early morning gloom.A sudden crash, and in the sea, they went to meet their doomThree Irish lads lay dying there, just like their hopes so grandThey could not give the signal nowfrom lonely Banna Strand.
'No signal answers from the shore,' Sir Roger sadly said,'No comrades here to welcome me, alas! they must be dead;But I must do my duty, and at once I mean to land,'So in a boat he pulled ashoreto lonely Banna Strand.
The German ship was lying there, with rifles in galore.Up came a British ship and spoke, 'No Germans reach the shore;You are our Empire's enemy, and so we bid you stand.No German boot shall e'er pollutethe lonely Banna Strand.'
As they sailed for Queenstown Harbour, said the Germans: 'We're undoneThe British have us vanquish'd: man for man and gun for gun.We've twenty thousand rifles here, that never will reach land.We'll sink them all, and bid farewellto lonely Banna Strand.'
The R.I.C. were hunting for Sir Roger high and low,They found him at McKenna's Fort, said they: 'You are our foe.'Said he: 'I'm Roger Casement, here upon my native land,I meant to free my countrymenon lonely Banna Strand.'
They took Sir Roger prisoner and they sailed for London Town,Where in the Tow'r they laid him, as a traitor to the Crown.Said he, 'I am no traitor,' but his trial he had to stand,for bringing German riflesto lonely Banna Strand.
'Twas in an English prison that they led him to his death.'I'm dying for my country dear,' he said with his last breath.He's buried in a prison yard, far from his native landAnd the wild waves sing his Requiemon lonely Banna Strand.
They took Sir Roger home again in the year of sixty fiveAnd with his comrades of sixteen in peace and tranquil liesHis last fond wish it is fulfilled for to lay in his native landAnd the waves will roll in peace againOn the lonely Banna Strand.