O'Reilly The Mole
An SAS man was sent to south Armagh to try and rout the IRA active service
unit in a small village near Crossmaglen. He was to make contact with a mole called
O'Reilly, and the password was: 'Isn't it dreadful weather for June?'
So, he was dropped by helicopter two miles from the village in the early morning,
and he walked there across the heathery hills, to arrive just as the shops were
opening. He thought he would start hunting for his contact by looking for any
shops called O'Reilly's. But as he walked down the single street, all he could
see was O'Reilly's Butcher, O'Reilly's Chemist, O'Reilly's Hardware Store, O'Reilly's
Stumped, he walked into O'Reilly's pub, which was open despite the early hour.
O'Reilly the publican was leaning on the well-polished bar, and the SAS man ordered
a pint of stout from him. The two of them chatted away, and the publican was so
friendly that after a while the SAS man wondered if, after all, this could be
the O'Reilly he was looking for.
'Actually, the reason I'm here,' he said tentatively, is to... ah... look for
an old friend called O'Reilly.'
'Ah, well,' said the publican, 'as you can see, they're all O'Reillys around here.
Which one was it you were looking for?'
What the hell, thought the SAS man. In at the deep end, and all that... So he
leaned across the bar and whispered: Isn't it dreadful weather for June?'
'Ah yes,' said the publican, 'It was O'Reilly the mole you were looking for.'