Riot Incident

Written on the 3rd October 2006

There has been a lot of media crap as usual … talk and lies.

But my side has yet to be told!

On Sunday 13th August I had taken just about enough bollocks from the Cannibal Maudsley. He had finally got into my head. He’s two cages away from my cage and all he does is wind me up with his pathetic behaviour: banging his walls, playing his opera music loudly, whistling like a prat and continuously pushing his shit-house flush button.

The question you need to ask yourself is would he be doing all this if we were not in isolation? Would he be so fast to wind me up if I was opened up at the same time as him? He may well be a multiple killer, but to me he’s a gutless coward and in a straightener (fist fight) he would crumble. I don’t need a blade or a gun.

Anyway, he finally got his way under my skin and I lost the plot … after five years of no violence and good behaviour.

I went out on the exercise yard and called it on with the screws. I was full of anger and months of frustrated madness that Maudsley had put into me. I stripped off to my shorts and covered myself in margarine, something I used to do regularly in Broadmoor in the 1970’s before a punch-up with the screws (they can’t grab me, see? I slip out of their grip).

For five hours they left me out on the yard, then crashed in with a fast team of mufti squad, some with canisters of pepper spray. That took me by surprise … and that was that!

I was blinded for hours and my lungs were on fire!

Next day I was put in a van Full Sutton, York.

Then, on 26th August, 9th and 23rd September it kicked off again in the yard (note: all three were on a Saturday).

Ask yourself “Why?” They were up to their silly games as usual. It was Bronson month. They were wanting it and they got it!

Saturday 26th August

I was out on the yard, doing my one hour of exercise in the sunshine. When you’re in solitary you are allowed one hour on the yard … it’s prison rules … and my one hour is my freedom under the sky. Rain, sun, snow or wind – I love it. I am at my most happiest, doing my press-ups, my sit-ups. I’m jogging. I’m happy.

Then, after 40 minutes ten screws and 2 dogs come to take me in. It’s a set-up because they know I’m not going to go in before my hour is up. Now I’m angry; I’M MAD. Fuck off, they are wanting to get this reaction from me. Next there are 20 mufti … shields, the lot! They demand I come in. I demand that they fuck off.

“CRASH!” it’s on.

What am I supposed to do? All I know is one way to defend myself and that is attack … fight.

So who is right, who is wrong? What about the prison rules regarding my right to one hour of exercise?

9th and 23rd September

Identical incidents! 40 minutes exercise! They know the reaction they'll get and they want me for sure!! You could say it’s a hat trick, but it’s a hat trick that I didn’t call on … and that’s how prison DOES fuck you up.

Sure, I managed to get some of my own body shots in, but how do you penetrate 20 riot mob dying for a fight. These are mostly young, fired up screws, full of aggression … and I am “Bronson”. They want me badly, just to brag that they did Bronson!

But the silly saps don’t realise that they have done nothing to me that hasn’t been done to me countless times before over three decades. Plus I’m now a 54 year old man, so it’s not really a brave act, is it? On the street it’s called bullying, but with me it’s called “Get him boys!”

My life in Full Sutton was a disgrace. I didn’t even have a window to open; my food was shoved through a dog-flap in the door; I was double cuffed up to have a shower or phone call. After the third yard battle my door stayed shut until I was moved back to Wakefield ... that’s FIVE days – no shower! No yard! Nothing!! My incoming mail was messed with and my outgoing mail probably went into the bin (I have proof of all this.)

It really WAS “Bronson Month”. My body was black and blue. I had to have x-rays on my back and foot and I was pissing blood again.

But what disgusted me most is that my legal team are still investigating a serious assault that took place on me three and a half years ago at Full Sutton. They have photographic evidence, doctors’ reports, statements, etc. so why or how could I be sent back there? It really defies all logic.

Also, all of the three yard incidents are on CCTV and my lawyer wants copies so he can see the brutality inflicted upon me.

The Wakefield one I can put my hand up to. I should have been a bigger man and not reacted as I did. For that I was wrong. I called it on, I take the consequences. But, can Full Sutton admit that they called it on? I doubt it. They even nicked me, denied me a plea, denied me any representation and even denied me to be present at the internal adjudication. So I’m guilty before it starts, which suits them, and I lost 56 days canteen and spends. That is the sort of hypocrites they are. My lawyer, Richard Charlton, will also challenge that!

So, why was it “Bronson Month”? Could it be to try to destroy my appeal? Well, that’s it in a nut shell: “Look at the violent man, Your Lordship. He’s a danger to society!”

Well, this time it has not worked. The campaign goes on and it don’t stop until I’m home!