The Big Breach - Index of

The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comWe were re-released ten minutes or so later and life re-started asnormal. Back at the shower blocks, with my towel over my shoulder, Ilooked more carefully at the light-switch. Engraved just under thebutton were the words `General Alarm'.`You daft cunt,' Dobson grinned broadly at me in the lunch queue andexplained, `them buttons is only for when a scrap breaks out or sommit.You'll get a week in the segregation block if they catch you meddlin'with them. On yer own in an empty cell, no mattress except at night,exercise on yer own so no cunt to talk to the whole day, nowt te read`cept the effin bible, does yer fuckin' head in.'Every day we were entitled by prison regulations to an hour of`association' which alternated according to the day between mornings orevenings. Our cell doors had to be locked behind us to preventprisoners congregating out of sight of the screws and the upperlandings were closed down, so all 100 prisoners on the spur crowded onto the tiny lower floor. We could take it in turns to play pool ortable-football, queue to use the telephone or sit around on the floorand chat over a cup of tea. There were ten or so comfy chairs in frontof the television, so there was a scramble to get a seat and then afierce debate about which channel to watch. Popular programmes werepolice dramas such as The Bill (called `training videos' by Craggs) andBBC's Crimewatch, watched eagerly to see if any friends were featured.The undisputed favourite, however, was Top of the Pops, transmitted onFriday evening, though we could only watch it every second-week whenthe association times coincided with the programme.On weekends we had the luxury of four hours of association each day,two in the morning and two in the evening. We were entitled to an hourof exercise a day in the bare concrete exercise yard, as long as it wasnot raining, and on Sundays we got a double-session if the screws werefeeling generous. But there were few other opportunities for A-catprisoners to get out of their cells. Being banged up in a cell for upto 22 hours a day was tedious and unrelenting. Even with a good book itwas difficult to forget that even the most basic liberties, such asbeing able to get up and make a cup of tea, had been taken away. A-catswere restricted even when unlocked from our cells. Every move out ofour door, whether to take exercise in the yard, queue for a meal ormake a phone call, was noted in a small black book held by Mr Richards,the evercheerful senior officer in charge of our spur. We had to put informal, written requests for trivial things. A haircut, or growing amoustache, required written permission from the Governor. Even trimmingtoenails required an application for the nail clippers and supervisionby a screw. My status as an A-cat prisoner was a mystery and a joke tothe other prisoners. Even Mr Richards couldn't understand the logic.`They're taking the bleedin' piss puttin' you on the book,' he laughed.`You've never been in jail, no previous record, a white-collar crimeand they make you A-cat! Somebody's got it in for you up on high, Ireckon.'The morning of 10 November had been set as the date for my second bailhearing at Bow Street Magistrates court. Two screws woke me at 6 a.m.,strip-searched me in the cell, escorted me to reception, ordered me tostrip again while they x-rayed my clothes, led me in handcuffs to theprison van and locked me into one of the cubicles. `We're a bit earlyfor the police escort so you'll have to wait,' the screw said throughpage- 176 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com