The Loose Screw

by Jim Dawkins

  We felt that not only had the Home Office once again failed to give Charlie the best help they could, but also they had failed to recognize all the hard work that we the staff and Charlie had done over the past few weeks. The only conclusion I could come to was that they were afraid that he was getting too comfortable and doing so well that they would not have been able to keep him in solitary conditions legitimately for much longer if he stayed.

  Despite our pleas, the decision stood and the day arrived when we were to transfer him to Bristol. At that time Charlie always travelled naked and restrained in a body belt. I had managed to secure a place on the escort and ensured that I had acquired a bag of hard-boiled eggs from the kitchen for the journey. We travelled in a small Category A minibus with tinted windows and, although unhappy with the move and anxious about what to expect, Charlie was in fairly good spirits.

  Shortly after our departure we stopped at a set of traffic lights next to a coach of old ladies going on a day trip to the coast. Charlie has a great respect for the elderly and stood up in the van to wish them a good trip through the window. I noticed many of them staring at our vehicle and commented to Charlie that they might be able to see through the windows and see Charlie in all his glory. Charlie assured me not to worry as he had been in more of these minibuses than anyone had and there was definitely no way they could see through the glass. I did not share his confidence as more and more old ladies pressed their faces against the windows of their coach. It was not until we reached Bristol that I had my fears confirmed and discovered that you could see quite clearly through the windows of this particular bus.

  It was on this same journey that I received my nickname from Charlie, which has stuck to this day and is used each time we communicate. About halfway down the M4, Charlie asked me to crack a few eggs and hand feed him. I had just moments earlier broken the aerial on his prized Roberts radio attempting to get a clear reception. I turned white thinking that Charlie would return the favour by pulling my head off, but he took it well and we laughed it off. With this still fresh in my mind, I gingerly shelled a hard-boiled egg and fed it to him. No sooner had I popped one in his mouth than he wanted another, then another. I ended up stuffing more eggs into his mouth than he could chew and he had to spit them out in order to prevent himself from choking. He commented that I had almost succeeded in killing him with half a dozen eggs when the Home Office had failed for years in all their attempts. So, from that day on, I was known as the hard-boiled screw. Today this has been changed to the ex-hard-boiled screw, but it has become the name I am called by many of the new friends I have made through Charlie.

  When we arrived at Bristol, the usual reception committee was out to greet Charlie. As is standard in every prison when receiving a 'difficult' inmate, a group of some twenty or so of the biggest screws are mustered to meet the van. As soon as we left the vehicle they surrounded us and all gave Charlie the standard stares in an attempt to intimidate him from the start. When we arrived in the seg unit, Charlie asked to be put into the strong box as he just wanted to get on with his time here without any aggravation. He had no sooner gone into the cell than the reception committee's leader screamed the standard welcome in which he pointed out, in no uncertain terms, that if he even looked at one of his staff the wrong way he would get the kicking of his life. He also made it perfectly clear that he would get fuck all during his stay at Bristol, unlike what he had become used to at Belmarsh.

  I heard this speech and felt great sadness for a man who I had grown to respect a great deal over the previous few weeks. I was in no position to do anything, but I was confident in my friend's ability to do hard time when he had to. With our paperwork signed it was time for us to leave, but not before I pushed past the mass of screws surrounding Charlie to shake his hand and tell him to keep his head down.

  The following is a letter I sent for the attention of the parole board on Charlie's behalf, after the judge at his appeal at the Old Bailey in 2004 directed that the parole board must set a release date for him. I am unsure whether the letter ever reached the board, but I was asked by Charlie himself if I could send a letter documenting my views and experiences. I have met some really nasty pieces of work in my time both in and out of prison, most of whom will be released within a fraction of the time Charlie has served behind bars. Comparing Charlie with some of these people, I strongly believe he deserves the chance to be released and I am convinced he will use his experiences to help young people today realize what a waste of their lives it is to spend years in prison missing out on so much that life has to offer as he has.

  "To Whom It May Concern:

  I first heard of Charlie Bronson during my first two weeks' training for the Prison Service at HMP Wandsworth. He was described as almost a 'mythical monster' by a number of older prison officers, Most of whom claimed to have "rolled around the floor" and "got the better of him" in a boastful manner as if to try to impress the new recruits, at the same time exaggerating stories to make us fearful of this man, who they branded the most dangerous man in the prison system. These stories were continued when we arrived at the Prison Service college, where a certain element of instructors again were obviously out to impress us with their accounts of how they "beat up Charlie" and "taught him not to mess with them". I quickly realized that these men had probably never even seen Charlie, much like the men in the army who had been shot by snipers in Northern Ireland but had never in fact been to the country. All these stories did ,however, convince many new recruits and many therefore had already formed a biased opinion of Charlie without even meeting him. They were under the impression that this man had to be attacked on sight before he got the opportunity to attack them.

  I first met Charlie in person at the secure unit at HMP Belmarsh in 1994. I must admit I was nervous about the initial meeting as I had only heard the Prison Service side of his story. The first time I met Charlie I noticed that he was probably as nervous as I was, as this was his first time in Belmarsh and he was unsure of the reception he would receive. Putting on a brave face, I had a nervous first meeting but pushed aside the stories and decided to form my own opinion of the man behind the myth. I quickly built a working relationship with Charlie and within a day or two we had formed a good bond of trust between us. For the month or so that followed I heard his side of the story, which I believed to be genuine as he never denied doing some bad things whilst in prison, but I appreciated he was only reacting to some of the brutal treatment he had received over the years. He felt remorse for his actions and even at that early stage wanted the chance to prove he could change. I was surprised to discover what a great personality he had, bearing in mind the years of solitary confinement he had endured. He had feelings, needs, and a sense of humour and was highly intelligent and talented. I enjoyed games of scrabble, helping him with exercise routines and even sat alone in his cell enjoying cups of tea, which he made me! I was of course aware that he had taken hostages in the past, but I never felt threatened in any way at any time when I was working with Charlie. There were still officers who would try to wind him up in an attempt to get a name for themselves so they could brag that they had wound Charlie Bronson up. As I have mentioned, Charlie will openly admit that he has done some bad things while in prison, but he was sucked into a system that almost needed a myth like Charlie to use as an instructional tool for its new recruits. Yes he has taken hostages, damaged prison property and tried to fight the system in the past, but he has only reacted to years of mental and physical torture by an element of bully-boy prison staff.

  Since leaving the Prison Service I have kept in touch with Charlie and have met some of his friends, including his wife Saira who has done so much to keep Charlie focused in recent years. Over the past few years he has achieved so much when even now the Prison Service has tried to deny him many of his basic allowances. He appreciates that he will need a pre-release programme, but is as confident as I am that given the opportunity to do this he
will react positively as I found he did when I worked with him. He is in my opinion not a danger to anyone. He has got so much more in his life now: his wife and her daughter, whom he loves very much, his friends like Andy Jones, who has offered him full-time employment in his museum, his writing and artwork for which he has won many well-deserved awards. He loves children and has done much for charity including setting up his own children's charity. There are far more dangerous prisoners in the system that have been released or are on softer regimes than Charlie. He has psychiatric reports, which all counteract the Prison Service reports, to state that he is completely sane and focused. All he needs is a chance to prove that he is a different man and is capable of leaving prison and leading a normal life. He could do so much to educate the younger generation of the dangers of wasting your life in prison. My personal experiences of Charlie have all been good with no exceptions; I have never felt threatened by him and would be more than happy to sign a declaration taking responsibility for him on his release. Both he and his family will always be welcome at my home. I would have absolutely no reason to feel he would be a danger to my family or me any more than I feel he would be a danger to others. He deserves a chance to prove himself and if given that chance I know he will do it to the very best of his ability.

  He is a good man who has survived some of the most horrendous treatment in an archaic Victorian prison system, but after all he has been through he holds no grudge or any bitterness. He has grown old in prison and the system now owes him the chance to prove that he can go home and live the reminder of his life with his friends and family. A Prison Service code states that it has a duty to care for people in its custody and help them to lead law-abiding lives upon their release. They have failed to give Charlie this chance up till now and it is time they give him his chance and disregard what I believe is a personal grudge the system has with this man.

  Give him a chance and he will not let you, me, himself or, more importantly, his family, down."

  11

  DAVE COURTNEY OBE

  What can I say about this man that you have not already heard or read about. Well, all I can say is that it is all true, however unbelievable you may think the stories are.

  I first met Dave in the high-secure Cat A unit at Belmarsh in 1996 when he was brought in on remand for a charge of importation. He had a fearsome reputation as one of the top London gangsters at the time, and the general feeling was that he was going to be a right handful.

  It had only been a few days since we had taken delivery of Charlie and everyone's nerves were shot at the prospect of having him on the unit, so you can imagine how most of the screws took the news that 'Big Dave' was coming for tea. I will tell you how they took it -they all went fucking sick, that's how they took it. You see, your average screws strut about the landings and wings of our prisons as if they are the hardest men to ever walk the earth, but, as I have maintained all along, most are bullies who act by preying on the weak and always ensure they outnumber their intended victims before they strike.

  Well there is certainly one thing Dave Courtney cannot be accused of and believe me he has been accused of a great many things by some very dodgy coppers over the years -and that is that he is weak. In fact the staffing levels dropped to such a desperate level when Dave arrived -due to a strange outbreak of 'Davecourtneyitis' that spread through the officers -that I began to think we would have to make Dave the honorary governor of the unit. Imagine that -'dodgy' Dave in charge of forty-eight of the most dangerous men in the prison system! How funny would that be? Still, one thing's for sure, he couldn't do any worse than the fat idiot who was currently filling that position.

  The difference in the screws on the unit at that time was that they not only had to worry about dealing with the consequences of their actions at work -that was easy to do, as they could always rely on a fellow officer to back them up with false witness statements to incriminate inmates, they also had the worry of possible reprisals on them outside work. Due to the reputation of men like Dave and a good few other big names on the unit at the time, the fear of reprisals outside the walls was continually drummed into us by intelligence briefings given by the security department.

  We were told, for example, that we should not use our full names in front of the inmates and should certainly not discuss things such as where we lived or socialized. All these briefings succeeded in doing, however, was spread fear and paranoia through the ranks of the bad apples amongst us and give them just cause (or so they thought) to attack inmates at every opportunity. My belief was, and still is, that so long as you didn't behave in a way that led to fear of reprisals you didn't have anything to worry about. Most of the guys I came across doing bird, including the top boys like Dave, had enough on their plates without worrying about getting people to follow screws home, and they would deal with the bully-boy element in their own way.

  One of the ways Dave dealt with the sneaky-beaky way in which the screws went to great lengths to disguise their identities was as he dealt with most things -by applying a little bit of forward planning and combining it with a little bit of his famous cheeky wit. He was so amazed at the paranoia, which was rife and plainly obvious to anyone observing from the outside, that he devised a cunning plan that still makes me giggle today when I think about it.

  Dave was, and still is, very well connected with the London club scene and he noticed that a lot of the staff on the unit at the time were fairly young and many were single. So, over the space of a few weeks, he began dropping into conversation with the more paranoid members of staff snippets about his connections with this club and that club. It didn't take long for the screws to start taking the bait and they began to quiz Dave on where were the best places to go and what nights were the good ones, etc. Dave turned round and said he would have a word and get a crowd of them free VIP entry into one of these clubs. Of course many members of staff jumped at this opportunity to gain free access into a top club, with the chance of rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous.

  When they arrived at the club, however, Dave's kicked into action and, having briefed the door staff about the party's arrival, they were all given star treatment and ushered to the front of the queue. Once inside, they were offered exclusive gold membership for free, courtesy of Mr Dave Courtney, which being slightly stupid they all eagerly accepted.

  Of course you know what's coming -in order to register for gold membership you are required to fill out a form, giving your full name address and contact details. How easy was that after they had spent months painstakingly trying to conceal their names from the inmates on the unit? In one night, Dave had succeeded in compiling a dossier of the full names and addresses of about half the unit's workforce!

  Can you imagine the panic that this little caper caused amongst the ranks of the already paranoid Prison Service? The Home Office actually issued an official memorandum forbidding any member of staff from attending any establishment with links to Dave Courtney or his associates, which was pretty much everywhere in south London at the time. Dave did not escape reprisal from the Prison Service officials, who were obviously greatly embarrassed by the whole issue. As a consequence, he was placed in solitary on a trumped-up charge of attempting to condition staff, which we all know is bollocks -he was just being nice. Of course a little bit of solitary is not going to bother someone like Dave, despite the fact that in a further attempt to wind him up they only allowed him to exercise handcuffed to 'Dingus' Magee, who at the time was in the middle of the longest dirty protest ever held in a mainland British prison and was permanently covered in shit. Imagine having to walk round the cage next to that stench for an hour a day, but, as always, Dave stuck two fingers up at the authorities and took it all in his stride.

  As I said, when Dave first arrived at the unit nerves were on edge, so when the staff who were strip-searching him discovered that he was in possession of two Rolex watches, one of them couldn't wait to
use that information to do a bit of stirring up. He was not part of the regular team assigned permanently to look after Charlie, but he used to come in to assist us with serving Charlie's meals. To try to impress Charlie and make conversation, he couldn't wait to tell him about the right flash bastard who had just come in wearing two gold Rolex watches. Well Charlie and Dave had never met before, though both were aware of the other's reputation, and in the enclosed world of a high-secure unit this comment from an insecure officer was just enough to cause a bit of verbal conflict between them for a few days.

  Evidently Charlie didn't like flash jack-the-lad characters and, due to the officer's description, this was the picture he had painted of Dave, so he began issuing threats to him out of the window. Dave, not being a man to back down from anyone regardless of their reputation, of course replied with his own shouts of retaliation. This went on for a few days and the tension at one time got pretty tense, so we had to be particularly careful that these two didn't meet whilst moving to and from the gym or visits. There was even talk of setting up an unlicensed bout on the exercise yard at one time and some officers began opening books. Talk about the clash of the fucking titans -what a row that would have been to watch.