The Irony of the Conflict in the North

There was a man named Nolan from Bally-binaby, a village square on the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland, of the British Empire. One side of the town is in Free Ireland, and the other is in the Province of Occupied Ulster. Nolan lived in the Republic's side of the town, the local pub sat right on the line, and the village constable lived and worked on the British side of town, so he was part of the Ulster Constabulary Department. Now this man named Nolan was in the IRA in the 1970s during the early part of the Troubles, he was caught smuggling weapons into Northern Ireland, and held in jail as a political prisoner for six months in Belfast. He was eventually released, but under the restrictions that he would never cross the border into Northern Ireland again, under threat of further, more extensive incarceration if he was caught doing so. The local constable of Bally-binaby, was therefore assigned to assure he stayed on the Republic's side of the village, so for the next twenty years, every time the Sinn Feiner Nolan wanted to go to the pub, he had to call up his good friend, the constable, and let him know he was going down for a pint, and could the constable come down to monitor that he did not cross over to the side of the bar belonging to the British Empire. And so, every evening after dinner, the two good friends would meet down to the pub; Nolan sitting at the northernmost bar stool of the Irish Republic, and the constable sitting at the southernmost bar stool belonging to the British Empire, and they would drink their Guinness and Tennants together.