That phrase alone sets this monument apart from the generality of rural commemorative stonework. The structure is enclosed by a cast-iron turnstile and railing, which gives the whole arrangement an oddly formal, almost ceremonial quality for something built at the edge of a country road.

The monument was erected around 1925 to commemorate Fr Michael Griffin, a local Catholic priest whose death became bound up in the violence of the early 1920s in Ireland. A cenotaph, strictly speaking, is a memorial to someone buried elsewhere, and that detail carries its own weight here: the site is a place of remembrance rather than interment. Built from limestone blocks, the central element carries both inscribed plaques and religious iconography, while flanking U-plan walls extend on either side, themselves bearing inscribed text. The whole sits on a concrete platform approached by steps. The quantity of lettering across the plaques is notable, giving the structure much of its character; this is a monument that speaks, quite literally, at length. It was renovated in 1992, and the chamfered coping and tapered stops to the front of the flanking wall suggest the original builders were working within a recognisable tradition of nationalist memorial architecture found in various forms across the Irish countryside.