6. Appendix
6.1 Diary of Mrs. Patricia Heron
6.2 Letter from Mrs McG. to W.S.Howard
6.3 Final chapter of 'For the Children'
6.5 Títlepage of 'Coalfield Woman'
6.6 Map of the North East coalfield
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My dear Christopher
by the time you read this diary, you will be old enough to have your own opinions and principles and you will be reading about the 1984-85 N. U. M. Strike in your history books in school. You will not however read all the facts, and what realy happend. Louise my love you are 11yrs old now, and you may be able to remember some things, but Christopher you are only 4yrs old, so you will know nothing, it is for this reason I have kept a diary so you will be able to show your children what realy did happen.
It started in March-84, the strike, but even before that we all knew in the mining comunities that somthing would happen, when the Tory Government led by MAGARET THATCHER (The iron lady) made Ian McGregger chairman of the N. C. B. This man had already butchered the steel industry. Hence his nickname by Mr Scargill (The Butcher).
Mr Scargill was President of the N. U. M. a powerful union, to be feared by the Tory government. We got them out of power in 1974, led by Joe Gormley and they always hated us for that. Magaret Thatcher was only a member of that cabinet then, and she wanted Mr. Ted Heath, to fight us. I think it was then, that she made her mind up to be prime minister one day, and to make the miners suffer.
I have always tried to be honest with you and told you, to never be scared of asking questions. I hope you will never forget that piece of advice. Your dad was a `picket' he went on the picket lines, the day the strike started. I was left at home, sitting worrying about how we we could get through this fight. We had a `giro' for £16-30 pence from suplementy benifit and £13-70 pence family allowence. This was all we had to live on £30 out of that I was putting £1-50 per day into my electric meter, as I could not afford to pay my elevtric bill of £83 and the N. E. E. B. were going to disconect our supply. So I had to have a meter installed. So I usually spent about £9 per week on the meter. That left about £21 out of that I had to buy food for the four of us, your clothes and shoes, which you seemed to go through very quickly also I had to pay my insurence, you must keep those up. I also had to give Louise money for school every day, bus-fares and a few extra coppers in case she went over her allotted 45p free meal ticket at school. I have told you your dad was on the picket line, well you will have probably read about the vicious savage pickets, and the damage they did and also about, the pickets intimidating the scabs. But I wonder if you have read about the terrible beatens, and the intimidating the pickets suffered at the hands of our great police force. I hope one day you will read the true facts, about allgrove, where our brave young pickets were kicked to the ground and ripped apart by the police dogs. The mounted police charged in to the crowds of pickets and trampled our lads to the ground, the police also used there trunchens they were beating our lads over the heads and yet they were not stopped. These my dears are the true facts. I myself was a victim at the hands of the police on a women's picket line. I was pulled out the picket line and punched and thrown to the ground. I lost conciousness, when I came round there was policeman on top of me, a friend of mine tried to pull him of me she was thrown to the ground too. I tried to make a complaint about his behaviour, but lucky for him he had no number on his jacket. So I could not as you had to have a number. So after you have read the fairy-tales in your books, spend a few minutes reading this diary and make your own conclusions. I was also a chairperson of a miner's wives group Houghton-Newbottle Fenchouses. I and a grand group of ladies, [here six names follow, also a list of four women whose husbands were strikebreakers].
There were some other women, who worked with us, but I don't want to say much about them as they went back to work. And they were N. U. M. members, and I did feel a bitterness to-wards them. But there names are wrote down as they were there when we started our kitchen up Newbottle-Church hall. I suppose they had there own reasons for going back. It is them who must live with there concious. Our next door neighbours were scabs, [. . . ][they] had a lot of harrasment rom there youngest daughter D[. . . ] but I told L[. . . ] it was her who could hold her head up high, and one day I don't know when that may be, D[. . . ] will be made to remember her father was a scab. If this diary sounds bitter to you I am sorry my son, but you must remember, we were fighting a hard fight, and our union was split down the middle by the Nottingham Scabs. They did not support us. From the very beginning thy made it clear they would not help us. I must be fair also and say there were some very brave Notts miners who did come out on strike with us. And they suffered terrible and we coud only stand by and do nothing as we were fighting our own battle up here. It is now January 1985 and we have been on strike nearly 11 long cold months and I fear the end may be at hand. The government has just sat back and watch the miners drift back to work and I fear there waiting game has paid off, already there is half the workforce in Herrington pit where your dad is a striking miner. I don't know how this strike will end but I do know this if you believe in a principle, then you must always stand by it, never be afraid to stand up and say what you think always be true to yourself. If you turn out to be half the man your dad is I know you will be a good and fine person. Louise my sweet one, you went through this strike while you were a young girl of 11yrs, you went with-out a lot of things, new clothes, money in your little purse, and yet you hardly complained, because you knew how we were struggling. I can only say I thank you from the bottom of heart for being so understanding. You have grew up a lot in those 11mths. I have wrote about. I will close this letter to you now. I don't think I will be writing any more in my diary as I think the strike is nearly at an end. I think we have been beaten by this uncaring government.
I love you, my dear children, always remember that. And remember we tried to make a better future for you.
From your everloving mother.
Patricia Heron. `Mrs'
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Dear Sir,
To me the miners are among the Bravest and toughest men in the country. I am now nearing sixty years of age I am the daughter, wife, and mother of miners. My first recolection of my father was a big jolival man with a small stump sticking out from his right shoulder I used to say when small `dad? where is your arm. 'he used to laugh and say I dropped it down the sink, his workmates who went to hospital with him after he had been trapped down the pit said he carried his right arm in his left hand hanging on by soft flesh, the bone had been severed right through he did'nt make any fuss. he lived until he was sixty two. My husband and his brother left school at fourteen went straight into Pit House right on a hill at the top of our village it is'nt there now, it was a large Pit in those days miners travelled miles to work there. The pit was privately owned by a firm called Straker and Love the work was dangerous and frightning for young lads my husband was ordered to do a job one day underground he did'nt want to do it so was sent to the managers office, You do it he was told or we sack you father what could he do his father was the breadwinner. When my husband was nearly eighteen war broke out he left the pit with his brother who was a year older his brother went into the R A F, he joined the army. his brother died of war wounds aged twenty three his war grave is in our local cemetery. My husband fought abroad he was wounded in the arm and hand, he was in a big assualt on an island which was occupied by the Japs the war ended ten months later our lads still held the island. He came home and went back to Pit house. We were married and lived in a colliery house with one bedroom, he used to work a shift where he came in from work two in the morning I would have the tin bath on the floor water hot in the set pot a Jam pudding ready for him, I always washed his back all you could see was the whites of his eyes his whole body even his eyelids and eyelashes was covered in thick black dust he used to nearly always fall asleep in that little bath-tin he ached from top to toe some nights I used to help him upstairs to bed he was that exhausted as he was on what they called Piece Work he finished the Pits as a deputy he is now nearly sixty five. My son has jaust been moved from Epleton to Murton as his pit has closed. He stayed out all through the strike and marched back behind his banner. He went picketing all through the strike (peacefully). Iwill tell you about an incident, my son and his mates set off at day-light one morning in the Picket van my lad Mick is Six foot two sixteen stone, Charlie is a six footer heavier still, the there was Mushy Tucker Ken Ray. they were on decent terms with our local bobbies, they al had a bit push and used to laugh about it police as well this particular morning they were driving along on their way to an open-cast. two Police cars waved them down out stepped Police no numbers on their shoulers they all had southern accents, out they shouted, line up along this pavement and don't even move your eye-balls. They then stripped the van, cushions thrown out flasks thrown across to other side of road with there sawndwishes. Now then this little copper said to his men any of you want a piss and pointed into the van before I let these F back in they all walked back to their cars laughing. My son and his mates could have had them for breakfast, but what would the headlines have been, Miners attack Police; Police only doing their duty. that to me was another kind of bravery by not letting these Metropolitan Police Provoke them. When Thatcher and McGregor call the miners the enemy within I fill with hate. I am proud to have known my three miners. God Bless All Miners this country is a better place by having men like them in times of stress and times of peace.
Yours Truly
D. McG.
PS My men don't know I have written to you they would not approve.
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We like rallies best. On March 23rd we marched in pouring rain through the streets of Newcastle in protest at Margaret Thatcher's visit to Tyneside. This day we will truly never forget; we have a beautiful little girl to remind us always. Elaine Elliott was born, bringing with her so much love it makes us almost, and I stress almost, envious.
We went along to Blyth recently to help fight the proposed closure of Bates Colliery. Sadly it was discovered that morning that we wouldn't be able to use our banner again. I'd had it standing upright in the garage beside the door and until then hadn't known that the rain we'd been having had actually soaked it. This had made the ink run and it was really shabby. So Bates really was the last rally for our original banner.
With great determination we set about making a new banner; do we sound like a group giving up or giving in? We had our photograph taken making the banner and it was about to have its first proud airing at the Northumberland Miners' Picnic in Bedlington on June 8th. We had our photographs taken at this rally not only with our new banner, but alongside the Brenkley N. U. M. banner.
We have a busy summer programme ahead of us. After speaking at a local meeting of the National Assembly of Women we are hoping to affiliate our group to this organisation. We have rallies against pit closures to attend, fund-raising to continue, speeches to make. Our fight goes on and on.
It is 25th June, 1985 and it is ironic that I am concluding my story today because today the N. C. B. have announced the proposed closure of Brenkley Colliery in the summer of 1986 (at the rate the N. C. B. are closing pits we cannot see it even lasting that long).
We are realistic; if there is no coal, and there isn't at Brenkley, our men cannot dig it. One thing is certain. Whenever
Brenkley Colliery closes and the Brenkley N. U. M. banner is marched for the last time to Burt Hall, our banners and our story of achievement will proudly accompany it.
T H E E N D (No, it isn't!)
(S. Graham: 30-31)
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The poems printed here will give an impression of the range of topics the women wrote about. They wrote about the police, about Thatcher, the media, nuclear arms, about men, children and about themselves.
Here is a selection of poems from the North East.
NUM strike 84/85
The fire's gone out and I'm feeling the cold
I'll help saw the logs for I'm not that old
The fire burns bright and I'm back full of fight
But we need some, coal, I'll go back down the hole.
I fill the bag and sit with the riddle
For I've learned all the tricks of how to fiddle
The bitch in No. 10 will not get me down
For I've also learned how to play the clown.
My heart is full of love and pride
But not when I heard Davy Jones had died.
The hate simmered inside of me
Oh! why can't that bloody woman see
She's tearing our hearts out by the roots
She's even using the copper's boots
The newsmen. the papers, and even the judges
Won't get our spirits down,
we won't let them budge us.
by Lily Ross (R. Forbes /D. Smithson)
Atomic Reactors
It wasn't long since the big bombs had fallen
When up popped our Maggie P. M.
She'd come from her own little bunker,
No room for the common men.
Well, Norman, she said, We've done it,
Shame about the rest of the folk
Go down and get my handbag
Whilst you're there give the cabinet a poke.
To Reagan she said start rebuilding
Another great empire for me,
Then we'll have to think about breeding
But you can get your hand off my knee.
I believe the month is September
By the end of the year I'll be Queen
There's no one left to remember,
My enemy no more to be seen.
Come with me we'll get some workers
There'll be mutants left from the war,
Make sure they know I'm their leader,
I want them to bow to the floor.
I see some running towards us,
Go welcome my subjects to court,
I see they've got NCB coats on
This is better than I thought.
They seem to be singing my praises
Looks like my fame has spread
Like a Phoenix rose up from the ashes,
They've come to put a crown on my head.
Can you see some chaps have slogans,
They've raised them for me to see how high...
Leon! That one on the left looks familiar,
Oh no! Tell me it's a lie!
Why Maggie, tell me, said Ronnie,
The reason you've gone so white,
Are these rowdy lot your admirers,
Not a welcome sight?
Then the crowd stood and faced Maggie,
Her last words were "Strike 84"
The mutants marched over her body,
Laughing as they sang "Here we go".
Anonymous (R. Forbes / D. Smithson)
The Longest Strike
As weeks drag on we wonder why
They are going to let our mines die
We are only fighting for our rights
Fight we say with all our might
Do we want to live in a finished community
No we shout as we're all in unity
Daughters and sons we all have now
For a chance in life we fight and how
We must fight for them the chance to work
For you never meet a parent who's going to shirk
For why should children move and go away
The choice should be theirs if they want to stay.
So the strike drags on for one and all
We'll go down in history they tell us all
We would rather be remembered for the way we fought
To show our grandchildren we wouldn't be bought
For we heard last night on Television
All about the big incision!
How many pits are going to be left
Along our coastline to the right and left
Only fifteen years and there will be only five
It's not very long so how can we survive
So the strike goes on and on and on
It's what our livelihood depends upon
However much it hurts we must keep going
Till everything's settled and we get what's owing.
Audrey Sillito
(The Last Coals of Spring: 51)
Women
We, as women, wanted to help
We, as women, helped
We, as women, wanted to March
We, as women, marched
We, as women, wanted to tell
We, as women, told
We, as women, wanted equality
We, as women, equalled
We, as women, wanted direction
We, as women, directed
Anne Suddick (R. Forbes / D. Smithson)
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[NOT PRINTED HERE]
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[NOT PRINTED HERE]
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H. Dirkes / S. Engert: 19
"The new 'phenomenon' has to be put down in the history of this miners' strike in an oustanding position. Without the women it couldn't have lasted so long. "
H. Dirkes / S. Engert: 24
"Women who had hardly ever been beyond the boundaries of their villages travelled all over the country [. . . ] and spoke in front of mass meetings - abroad as well. "
H. Dirkes / S. Engert: 21
"We had our own committees then [1974] as well. Soup kitchens are a tradition. But we didn't know what else to do. Therefore the committees didn't have any prospects for the time after the strike and so we broke up. "
H. Dirkes / S. Engert: 25
"We will not return to what we did before and just stay at home and look after the children [. . . ]. We will do different things and learn different things. " (Betty Heathfield)
