Polmaise: the Birth of a Militant Nat.

"Look son for the last time, I'll no be buying oor cooncil hoose, I don't gie a fuck, whit I can get it for. I did the scaffolding on this hoose, when we built it in the 50's."

It's 1984 and my Da is just back from a day of solidarity picketing at Polmaise Colliery near Stirling. I was telling him over dinner that my friend Barry's Dad had just bought his council house, which had sent him off on a rant, much to the amusement of ma brother and annoyance of my Maw, who was already raging that he arrived back home with a black eye and 'puddin lip'.

"Come wi me the morra tae Polmaise and I'll show you why we can never trust they Tory Bastards." My Maw stuck her heid in the door at that moment, I nodded at ma Da and made myself scarce.

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"Right, do not fuckin leave ma side noo"  Da said just before we got oot of the car outside his mate Billy's house in Stirling.

It was just getting light as we made our way through backstreets and alleyways, people eyeing us warily as we passed them. I was about to ask if it was much further, when we rounded a corner to be met by around two hundred other men standing in a field. My Da tied a scarf around my face and put my hood up. As he started to do the same he said "stay close by, don't tell anybody your name, there's polis in amongst us, when it kicks aff, don't be feart to run, I'll be right behind ye."

I thought to myself, I'll no be fuckin running, there's no a polis in sight, fuckin wankers.

"They're Coming!" people shouted in a kind a relay, as the men split off to cover both sides of the road. Tension filled the air as a glare of headlights filled the streets. A fleet of polis vans led the way then stopped.

An eerie silence settled. The police armed with riot gear entered from both sides, thumping their shields with their truncheons, my first thought was the movie Zulu. Tensions rose further as the polis formed up facing the crowd.

"Scab! Scab! Scab"! As the lorries made their way down the road, the crowd surges forward and we're met by the shields and batons of an over eager police. One of our own broke the ranks and as the polis moved to intercept, more miners broke through, then all hell broke loose as the polis just hit everything that moved, my Da must have seen the fear in my eyes and pushed me away towards a side lane. In 10 minutes it was over, the horses and reinforcements arrived and restored order.

As the Yuill and Dodds wagons moved past, the drivers were giving us the wanker signs, "Scabs!" I shouted, A shield to the face, quelled my momentary bravado.

"Let me see yer face son" my Da said. "I'll be fine Da." secretly hoping for a shiner to match his.

"Now do you see why I won't buy oor cooncil hoose?, Thatcher has declared war on the working class, it's her plan to sell off all public owned facilities or shut them down. It's a war we must win lad, or face total wipe out of the working class."

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