71. Monday July 23rd, 1984.

I had an early start to the day, getting up at 3.30am so I could get to the Armstrong Hall for 4.30 and get a lift to Tow Law. My first day back since May and it was a big disappointment. Apathy was rampant and there were only about 100 pickets. Just a bit of loud shouting when the lorries sped in. The ‘highlight’ of the picket was when someone threw an egg at a copper and missed by a mile.

The order came through to call in at the Philadelphia Workshops near Houghton le Spring where there was a picket to try and stop COSA staff from going into work. I had a run in with a vicious pig who really pushed me hard in the chest for no other reason other than I was facing him! I went for him but some lads came to my rescue and we got away from the front. Time to go home.

This afternoon I got a phone call from Gary telling me that a coach was leaving from the hall to go to Scotland and that 55 men were required. I rang the union and volunteered and was told to report to the hall at 5.30pm with a sleeping bag.

I went down to the Women’s Aid Refuge and told Kath I was off to Scotland again. She seemed resigned and warned me not to get arrested. She told me to be careful and ring her to let her know what was going on.

We arrived at Dalkeith Strike Centre at 9.30pm and it was a much more relaxed journey than the one we had last month. We only stayed a few minutes whilst details of accomodation were picked up. We were to be in Arniston and Penicuik but a bit of a row broke out because the people in Arniston wanted the lads who had stayed there last week to return. This caused the lads who hadn’t stayed there to think it was the best place to stay and demanded that the ‘rubs be put in’. I couldn’t be arsed to join in such a petty squabble so I volunteered for Penicuik. The SWP already had a few members there so I wanted to experience something new, and meet more people.

After dropping off half the lads in Arniston we headed for Penicuik, stopping off at Shottstown Miners Welfare for a piss. I wasn’t too surprised to see the two union officials from Westoe, sent to help co – ordination, were with us, leaving no one in Arniston to co – ordinate with. We spotted none other than Mick McGahey sitting at a table full of empty whisky glasses. A lot of the lads were excited to see him but not me. I’d met him before and also heard loads of tales.

We were given soup and bread, and a free pint, and as we were eating Mick came swaying over to give us a pep talk. His speech was slurred and it was sad to see a man who was once one of the top fighters in the NUM reduced to a drunken old man. He spoke of his hope of renewed talks bringing about a quick settlement, but when the men started to ask questions about the Incentive Scheme, the 4 day week and sacked miners he just put on his most sincere face and voice and promised us there’d be no sell out! He put enough money behind the bar for 2 pints for each man so we all cheered loudly as he left. He called back and said he was seeing Arthur in the morning and he would tell him what a fine body of men we are. Bullshit!

Exit Mick Senior, enter Mick Junior, a big lad with thick glasses, curly hair and a flair for organisation. Within minutes we had all been allocated places to stay and were on our way.

Dave Butchard, Micky Cunningham, Andy Halliday and me were all sent to the home of Willie and Marlene Forsyth. Andy got the couch because he’s ancient, over 50. Dave, Micky and me got the son’s bedroom, a bit cramped but fine. As I try to note this down ‘Butch’ is poncing round the floor in his silk underpants, a horrible sight, and I get a strong feeling we won’t get much sleep because Butch is as mad as a hatter. Anyway, the Forsyths have made us feel really at home so roll on tomorrow.

69. Wednesday July 11th, 1984.

I finally appeared in court in Bishop Auckland to face the heinous charge of ‘Obstruction of the Highway’ after being arrested at the start of May. This has been one of the tactics the Tories have used to prevent us from being effective, and it bloody worked. Bastards! I tried to defend myself but to no avail and was found guilty and fined the maximum of £50, with £30 costs, to be paid back at £1 a week due to my having no income. No real complaints because the pigs only lied a little bit. At least I don’t have to go back to Woodside and can resume picketing at Tow Law so it was well worth it!

62. Monday June 25th, 1984.

Since the disaster at Orgreave I’ve spent my time at Woodside Drift Mine. The best thing that can be said about it is that at least we kept a van load of pigs away from Tow Law. It’s given me the chance to build a good relationship with the pickets and sell Socialist Worker plus discussing the strike. We also played football but I ruined my shoes and have had to buy another pair for £4.99. No more football!

After picketing we had a dinner of fishcake and chips in the soup kitchen and it was there I learned I am one of 16 men pulled out of a hat to go on flying picket duty. The fact that over a 100 men wanted to go has caused a lot of resentment amongst the lads not chosen, especially those who’ve been active since day one. I still can’t see why the lodge can’t send all the men who want to go because they’re risking men just giving up and staying at home.

I was told to report to the hall for 6pm so I went home and flung some clothes into a bag, slung a sleeping bag over my shoulder then caught a bus down to Kath’s workplace. We had a coffee together whilst I buttered her up before telling her I was off again for a few days on a flying picket. She accepted this with a resigned look on her face and wasn’t as upset as I’d expected her to be. She must be getting used to it. We walked into town at 5pm and parted at the bus stop with a kiss.

At the hall I signed for my £32 and was told we’ll probably be home on Thursday. The only thing that Slater would tell us is we’re heading for Scotland so it was likely we’d be going to Bilston Glen where they have a lot of scabs, and also where a lot of Durham lads have already been arrested.

Typically we had to wait 2 hours for the coach to arrive and because we’d been paid a lot of the lads took the opportunity to have a pint or five, which made for a boisterous journey. As for the Manchester trip last month there were 4 pits represented; Westoe, Wearmouth, Herrington and Sacriston. The driver took a discrete route over the border because we didn’t want to be stopped by the pigs, and we had to make quite a few piss stops so we didn’t get to Dalkeith Miners Welfare until after midnight.

So here we are, lying on seats in the concert room after being fed a supper of soup and bread. The possibility of sleep is looking remote seeing as a pool competition is taking place (its 2.24am!)We’ve been told picketing starts at 5am and have been promised better accomodation later today.I bloody hope so because I am shattered!

53. Thursday June 7th, 1984.

Today has been a huge disappointment in terms of solidarity and as a result I have had my first ever experience of prison, though only for a few hours.

Sixty eight of us appeared at Bishop Auckland Magistrates court to answer charges relating to picketing at Tow Law over the past few months. The first cases to be heard were those men arrested at Deerness with the MP Bob Clay in April. Deerness is an entrance to the open cast site at Tow Law. I was arrested at Inkerman which is another entrance to the same site, which is huge.

Twelve men faced the bench, and when the first of them was again remanded on bail it was discovered that the bail conditions had been changed. They had been; ‘Not to go within two miles of Deerness’ but now they were;’ Not to go within a two mile radius of Tow Law’. This small change meant that the lads would no longer be able to picket at Inkerman as they had been because it was just over two miles away from Deerness, but NOT from Tow Law. The change caused uproar in the court and the magistrate adjourned the proceedings for 15 minutes so the lads could consult with their solicitor.

We held a mass meeting outside to decide what to do because six of the lads said they were going to refuse the new bail conditions. After a lot of debate and a warning from the solicitor that refusal meant prison, it was agreed we would all stand together. If one man went to prison then we would all go to prison. We piled into the courtroom to make our stand.

Frank Duffy from Murton Colliery was first up and he refused the conditions saying; ‘I can’t accept this. I’d rather be locked up!’ The female magistrate sentenced him to seven days on remand in Durham prison and he was taken down to huge applause from the pickets. He was closely followed by five others, including Keith Smoult and John Humble from Westoe. Unfortunately the six other lads lacked the courage of their convictions and accepted the new conditions. One of these was a Lodge committee man from Westoe who said he was ‘more valuable on the outside’.That’s a bloody laugh! Another Westoe lad, Steve Oliver, tried to refuse but the magistrate told him that his bail was unconditional so he had nothing to refuse.This gave us all a laugh and a bit of light relief. After that the rot set in and man after man accepted the bail conditions. I was determined to stick to my principles and go to jail in the hope it would get the planned protest back on track.

My name was called and I stood in front of the magistrate and was charged with Obstruction of the Highway with exactly the same bail conditions I’d previously accepted. My response was to say;’ I refuse to accept these conditions on the grounds that they are an infringement on my civil liberties and are a block on my ability to travel at will in a free country’. This was met with loud cheers of encouragement from the lads but pissed off the magistrate who threatened to have the court cleared. She advised me to reconsider my decision and consult with my solicitor. I refused her advice and she said she had no alternative but to remand me in custody for seven days. I was led down with my arm raised and my fist clenched to huge cheers from the pickets.

There were dozens of police beneath the court, obviously expecting trouble. I was searched and relieved of my few possessions then put into a cell with the six lads already sent down. They asked where everyone else was and I had to tell them it looked as if our protest was going to flop. We sat in the cell and expressed our anger and frustration at the empty words of our mates. Only one more lad had the guts to join us and he said there would be no more because the court had been cleared. He also told us that one of the most voiciferous supporter of mass action, a Wearmouth picket called Bob Robson, had phoned Tyne Tees Television and told them to come down and get a scoop. He also excused himself from the protest because he has a wife and two kids. That really pissed us all off because we have families as well but we’d all agreed to make a stand. If everyone had done what they said they’d do I doubt Durham could’ve coped with us all. We’ll never know.

Our solicitor came down and begged us to reverse our decision but we all refused and told him he was useless. He left in a huff and the next to try was one of the Durham Area Executive. He said he could understand the first six lads because their bail conditions had changed but me and the other lad were just being stupid. Frank Duffy said it was a pity the other 60 lads hadn’t been as stupid and we could have won a victory. Unity is strength. He also left and we settled down to wait.

We were all handcuffed and put into one of those long vans with individual cells inside. I looked out of the window and began to slightly regret my decision as I looked at people outside going about their business. I felt like I was starting a life sentence not a mere 7 days on remand, but there again I’ve never even visited a prison let alone been sent to one!

Inside Durham Prison we were strip searched and had to stand astride two benches whilst they shone a torch up my arse. It was totally humiliating. Then we were led inside to a reception area where we were questioned individually. I had perked up a bit and when asked my name I shouted ‘Strike’ defiantly, causing the prison officer to smirk. I gave my religion as Buddhist in an attempt at humour. It made Keith Smoult laugh. The warder wasn’t amused and said;’We’ll soon put an end to your piss taking son’. That shut me up, even more when he asked my occupation and I answered ‘coal miner’. He replied,’ Ex coal miner lad.Your Her Majesties prisoner now’!

We were put into a windowless room with a bench running along a wall which was covered with rules and regulations. I was reading them when my name was called again and I was led into another room. Another warder came in and told me I was being released and made me sign for my possessions. I asked him what was going on but he told me to stop moaning because there were hundreds of men inside who would love to be in my shoes.

I was taken into an office where a woman handed me a bail form to sign. I refused and asked to see my solicitor. I asked why I was being released and she said she didn’t know and told me to sign the form. I refused again and asked to see my solicitor. She got angry then and said I could see one when I got out. I felt very guilty that I was letting the other lads down but signed anyway. I was let outside into the bright sunshine with £1.64p, presumably my bus fare. I walked up the hill to Red Hills, the Durham Area offices and was shown into Jimmy Inskips office. Jimmy is an ex Westoe man and he got a shock when he saw me and asked if I’d escaped. I told him I’d no idea why I’d been released. he rang the lawyers but they didn’t know either but said they’d investigate. Jimmy gave me £3 for my bus fare home.

Kath was very upset when I got home and said she’s going to have a nervous breakdown with all the stress of worrying about me and doing her job. I tried to reassure her by saying the strike will soon be over. Trouble is I don’t believe it because there are no signs saying that. What a bastard of a day!!!

52. Wednesday June 6th, 1984.

I’ve spent the past week picketing at Woodside. I say picketing but we never, ever see anyone to picket. I think they just send us here to keep us out of the way because most of us are banned from Tow Law. I’m up in court tomorrow and will hopefully be dealt with and free to return to action at Tow Law. We just spend time playing football and enjoying the sunshine. To be honest its great to be breathing fresh air and getting a nice tan.

I have made one big decision and that is no matter what happens I am NOT going back down the pit, win or lose. I haven’t told Kath of my decision and don’t intend to until the strike is settled. I’ll find a job somewhere and can afford to take a lower wage because Kath’s job is going so well.

The events at Orgreave last week showed there is still fight left in this strike but I can’t understand why we are left at places like Woodside when we could be making a real difference elsewhere.Piss ups and breweries comes to mind when I think of our local leaders!

47. Monday May 21st, 1984.

I decided to try picketing at Woodside Drift mine near Consett, out in the wilds of County Durham in the hope it would be more inspiring than Lumley. It wasn’t, but it did give me the opportunity to agitate amongst the Westoe men present to attend the union meeting to be held on Wednesday. I also spoke to a lot of the pickets before they left for Tow Law and it looks as if the resolutions I am going to propose will be passed because they’re what the men want. They are;

1.Weekly union meetings.

2.Setting up a soup kitchen in the Armstrong Hall.

3.A cooker to be bought for the Women’s Support Group.

4.More pickets to travel away.

5.The Women’s Support Group to be helped financially by the Lodge.

6.A strike committee to be elected.

7.Pickets to be sent to the steelworks on Teeside.

The Women’s Support Group is doing very well, despite the animosity and unhelpful attitude of our own Lodge officials, hence the resolutions. The women have set up an office in the National Union of Seamen’s premises in Coronation Street, South Shields, and its from there that they’re distributing food parcels.Gary Marshall and me went down to visit them and gave them £300 we’d collected in Manchester, keeping the rest in reserve in case we need it. We offered to help out but the women refused, saying they want to stay independant. Fair enough.

Kath has been promoted to Warden of the Women’s Aid Refuge because her boss is taking six months leave of absence.It means a slight pay rise, more responsibility, and the chance of a permanant job if her boss doesn’t come back. It takes the pressure off me a bit because she is a lot happier.

46. Friday May 18th, 1984.

The days since Mansfield have been totally boring because my ban from Tow Law has meant I’ve had to picket at Lumley No6 Pit, which, despite its name is no longer a working colliery but a site where coal form open cast sites is stored and cleaned.

Each day there have been about 70 pickets present, mostly lads like myself who have been banned from Tow Law. The lorries arrive around 9.30 each day but no attempt is made to stop them. We just shout ‘scab’ because we are greatly outnumbered by the pigs, and I suppose lads don’t want to risk getting arrested again. It’s so disheartening and even when the pigs provoke us no one has the confidence to fight back. Like on Wednesday when one pig took offence at the ‘Stop the Police State’ placards we had lined up along a fence and ripped them up! Some of the older men actually told the pig he was right whilst the rest of us just glared at him. It’s so frustrating I’m beginning to wonder if it’s worth my trouble but I guess the answer is it is worth it because I can agitate amongst the younger lads for switching the picket to the steelworks on Teeside.

Tonight the Lodge Secretary, Walter Slater, reimbursed me for the Mansfield trip and told me not to organise any more trips because the Lodge can’t afford it! What a load of bollocks!

After talking with a lot of the pickets I’ve started a petition which demands that we have a union meeting. We haven’t had one for weeks and the Lodge officials give the pathetic excuse that they have nothing to say. Well, we’ve  got plenty to fuckin’ say, especially about picketing. The majority of lads I’ve spoken to have signed it and I’ve handed it in to a committee man. I also managed to sell 37 copies of Socialist Worker which shows that lots of lads are open to new ideas and keen to know what is really happening in this strike.

Unfortunately Ian Wilburn hasn’t been spotted since Mansfield and if the threats made against him have put him off then it’s a bloody shame!

38. Friday May 4th, 1984.

This mornings picket at Tow Law was quiet until 10am when 3 lorries approached the entrance. We tried the same tactic as yesterday and poured into the road and linked arms in front of the first lorry. Yet again there must have been over 200 men present but only about 70 of us were prepared to get involved whilst the idle bastards just stood and watched. It was those bastards who were responsible for 17 of us getting lifted this morning, not the pigs! Our bloody union officials should be there giving a lead and taking the names of those people not getting stuck in, and stopping their £2 picket money. If the buggers weren’t getting paid they wouldn’t turn up. Bastards!

As we moved onto the road we took the pigs by surprise. I was right in front of the leading lorry, swearing up at the scab driver for helping the Tories. It didn’t take the pigs long to organise themselves and storm into action, with me being grabbed violently round the throat from behind. Unlike yesterday there was no big Arthur to rescue me, and despite my vainly trying to put up a struggle I quickly found myself being forcibly dragged by two pigs into the site where two vans were waiting for us. I was thrown violently against the side of a van and a pig kicked my ankles and ordered me to spread my legs, just like they do on TV cop shows when they search people for weapons. This bastard added a knee into the small of my back as he roughly searched me. There was no bloody need for his violence as I’d done little to resist, but that didn’t stop him from pushing me hard into the back of a van. As I went in I heard Arthur’s voice saying, ‘There’s no fuckin’ need to be so rough ya bastard’. When he spotted me he said, ‘Ah thought we were going t’ see the week out young ‘un’. Before I could reply I landed hard on the metal floor of the van and hurt my shoulder. I hauled myself up and sat on the bench that ran down either side of the van. Within minutes I was joined by Ian Wilburn, who sat next to me, and pretty soon the van was full with six pigs and six pickets. Ian remarked how strange it was that within days the men who delivered the pies, and the one who raised the money for them were all arrested. I said that I hoped the bastards who had stood watching us getting arrested starved to death!

On our side of the bench were Ian, Micky  and me, plus three hefty pigs, and just before we reached our destination the bench collapsed beneath us and we burst out laughing. The pigs weren’t amused and accused us of breaking it deliberately. I blamed it on all the pies we’d eaten and that made us laugh even harder. We were almost hysterical when we found we were in CROOK police station. The puzzzled pigs glared at us.

We were taken from the van one at a time and made to queue outside the door until our turn came.Inside we were ordered to remove our belts and take everything from our pockets. I was asked my name, and yet again was told not to try and be ‘fuckin’ funny’. They must have checked me out because they soon started to take the piss with jokes I’d heard a hundred times before, stupid bastards!

After answering their routine questions I had to be photographed with the two arresting officers standing either side of me. They spoiled a lovely picture! A Polaroid camera was used and they assured us the photographs would be destroyed at a later date, lying bastards. I was taken to a cell and ordered to remove my boots and leave them outside. The smell from my socks even made me feel sick!

I was soon joined by two Westoe lads, Martin Quantrill and Mick Myers. They complained about my smelly feet but their farting did nothing to help. We talked about how we’d each been arrested before Mick and me were taken out to meet Tommy Callan, Durham Area NUM General Secretary, who took our names so he could get us legal representation. He also offered to inform our families but I refused because I didn’t want Kath to worry while she was at work, and I knew I’d soon be released. Tommy gave us a cigarette each to take back to our cell and told us we were to be charged with ‘Obstruction of the Highway’ and would be appearing at Bishop Auckland Magistrates Court at 2pm.

At 1pm we were put into the back of a police car and taken to Bishop Auckland where they put us in a cell beneath the court. The three of us were absolutely starving because we hadn’t eaten since early morning so we were overjoyed when the hatch in the cell door slid open and a pig asked us if we wanted pineapple on our gammon steak? I told him I was a vegetarian but he said,’That’s OK, you can just have the pineapple’. This made the lads howl with laughter but I wasn’t amused! The lads expressed surprise that the food on offer was so good, but they were even more surprised 20 minutes later when the hatch opened and a plastic plate full of stale meat paste sandwiches was passed through by a broadly grinning pig. All of us burst into laughter and rolled about the floor laughing at our own naivity.

My court appearance didn’t take long. The female magistrate tried to supress a grin as my name was read out, then remanded me on bail with the condition I was not to go within two miles of Tow Law until my court appearance. Martin and Mick got the same. We were given back our meagre possessions then released.

Nine Westoe lads had been arrested so Durham sent the Executive coach to take us back to South Shields. Back at the pit we were warned by our own officials not to break the bail conditions and left to make our own way home. Those bastards didn’t give a shit about any of us, or what we’d done for our union. I hate them!

Kath was upset when I told her about my day and said I should just stay at home. I had to remind her that I’d been shouting my mouth off about Scargill since he was elected and I couldn’t take a back seat. I don’t want to! I hope she understands but I’m not sure she does.

37. Thursday May 3rd, 1984.

 

Tonto Jackson was arrested this morning for having the misfortune to be standing too close to a lorry which had its windscreen smashed. The pigs just grabbed him because he was the nearest person to the crime. He’s been charged with using ‘foul and abusive language’ because he swore when the pigs roughly grabbed him.

After Tonto’s arrest we tried a new tactic, walking in front of the scab lorries at a snails pace, linking arms so the pigs couldn’t arrest us easily. It worked brilliantly but despite us shouting for more men, not enough of us were prepared to take part. The pigs charged into us and tried to break our ranks, and even though we put up a brave struggle we couldn’t stop them achieving their aim. I was linked in with Arthur Oxley from Vane Tempest Colliery. I know Arthur from Broad Left meetings and you couldn’t pick a better man to be standing next to in a fight because he’s well over six foot tall with a build to match. He was my saviour this morning because he refused to let go of me as I was dragged to the side of the road. The look on the young pigs face when he realised he was on his own with us was a real picture. Arthur said, ‘What are you going to do now son because you can’t arrest us both?’ He took the wise decision to let us go and beat a hasty retreat. The battle was over but the war isn’t won and I’m pretty certain the two of us will have to be on our guard from now on.

The pigs made 10 arrests this morning and the mood of the men seems to be getting more militant, thank god. The Westoe men are getting really wound up by the lads we’ve had arrested. The pies arrived a bit late because of Tonto’s arrest, and this has really done the trick in terms of ending Westoe passivity. You have to laugh.

Kath is very worried I am going to be arrested after I told her about this mornings events. I’ve told her not to worry because even if I am arrested I’ll only get fined. She remains unconvinced that what we are doing is lawful and this has caused even more friction between us. I feel she is allowing herself to be influenced by the media who seem to be engaged in a daily propaganda campaign against the NUM, and Arthur Scargill in particular. I feel she is coming round to our side but at the moment she still needs to be convinced we can win. We can win if we can convince the rest of the trade union movement of the justice of our fight. If only they would black coal and refuse to use imported oil. If only the scabs would see sense and that their jobs are at risk as well. If only NACODS would join us we would be guaranteed victory. It’s been 8 weeks and no sign of an end in sight so Tony Cliff has been proved right so far. This isn’t ’72 and ’74, mores the pity. Anyway, attitudes on the picket line seem to be hardening and Westoe has gained quite a few new pickets but we still need a lot more!

36. Wednesday May 2nd, 1984.

This morning  I suggested that we try the ‘Gandhi’ tactic of passive resistance and sat myself down in the middle of the road, loudly urging everyone to follow my example. Bloody predictably only about twenty or so of the lads followed my lead whilst the majority stood idly by and laughed at us, treating it all as a huge joke. The bastards watched as the pigs dragged us from the road and threw us into the mud on the verge! One of the Westoe Lads, Manny Benham, was thrown straight into the back of a police van because he had the audacity to answer back an inspector! That’s British justice  1984 style! At least the lad had the guts to try and do something different. It’s all getting very frustrating.