Around the same time that the rash of conscientious objectors were serving time in the early forties, Barlinnie had another high-profile political inmate, Arthur Donaldson, who was the leader of the SNP from 1960 to 1969. Dundee is famed for jute, jam and journalism and as ‘furry boots city’, as the Glaswegians call it, was Donaldson’s hometown, it was no surprise that a political thinker and future party leader would try his hand at the newspaper trade there. Later he went to America to try to further a career in journalism but ended up in the motor industry in Detroit. He joined the SNP as an overseas member in 1928 but returned to Scotland in 1936 to work in farming. But he made some unwanted headlines when in May 1941 his home was raided by the police who suspected him and a number of other SNP figures of ‘subversive activity’ due to their support for the Scottish Neutrality League, naturally an organisation not much favoured by the authorities in the dark days of the early forties. Donaldson was arrested and interned under Defence Regulation 18B firstly in Kilmarnock Prison and latterly in Barlinnie. He was held for six weeks and released without charge.
At the time his arrest was explained by his opposition against the conscription of Scottish women to be taken to work in English factories for the war effort. Some former colleagues felt this made him a political prisoner. But in November 2005 a MI5 file was released suggesting he was a German sympathiser. Even before this, in 1994, such accusations had been made and absolutely denied by his widow Vi and the leaders of the SNP at the time. No evidence for the allegations has ever been produced. Donaldson died in 1993.
One of the most intriguing tales to emerge from wartime Barlinnie involved no politicians or army prisoners at all. It is featured in The Jail That Went to Sea by Peter Haining. Unlikely as it seems, the Bar-L became involved in what might be called a modern press gang. Again the year was 1941 and Britain was in trouble on the high seas, suffering losses of merchant ships equivalent to seven million tons a year. It is said they were being sunk at three times the rate we could build new ones. The Americans agreed to help out by building new vessels under the Lend-Lease agreement. But they wanted the ships crewed by Brits and at this time in the war manpower losses were mounting. Someone somewhere had the idea of a return to the press gang era and the government surreptitiously began scouring the jails for ex-cons to convert into seamen.
Five of Bridgeton’s hardest left their Barlinnie cells in August 1941 and were somehow or other convinced that they should join a Lend-Lease ship, the George Washington. It is not explained if they were sandbagged or drugged to be woken up at sea in traditional press gang style. But these guys did join the ship. Their merchant service only lasted a few weeks and the action they got involved in was not dodging U-boats or shooting down Nazi planes. The Glasgow hard men lived the legend and created mayhem ashore in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Montreal and New York. Two jumped ship at the first opportunity and the other three had to be banned from the boiler room of the ship taking them back to the UK after causing all sorts of bother. They even planned a mutiny with the idea of taking the vessel to South America. But the skipper, with aid from some tough regular stokers, almost literally hit that one on the head. After the ship was handed back to the Americans the other three also disappeared.
These days the denizens of gangland Glasgow milk social services for every penny they can get while simultaneously milking their fellow citizens of their hard-earned cash. The Barlinnie Crew of 70 years or so ago were ahead of their time – while they inflicted mayhem on their shipmates and innocent punters in the waterfront bars of the east coast of America they were on full pay from the government!
14
THE ELECTRIC CHAIR AND PLUGGING IN TO HISTORY
As Barlinnie, in the early years of the twenty-first century, struggles to cope with the twin tasks of imprisoning and rehabilitating growing numbers of offenders, two problems are depressingly familiar – overcrowding and the misuse of drugs. Neither problem is likely to go away soon. Only knocking down the Victorian jail and building a massive new prison in the Glasgow area will have any real effect on overcrowding in the penal system in the west of Scotland. Drugs on the streets, in the cells, or as dispensed by the prison health centre will likewise be with us well into the foreseeable future. But there can be a little more short-term optimism on the drugs front. Quite how to reduce the massive prescribing of methadone inside the prison is not clear. But dealing with drugs smuggled into the jail can, hopefully, be tackled by staff determination and the help of new technology.
In 2011, hi-tech solutions are in use in a new drive on security in the prison. The new technology works alongside that old stand-by, the sniffer dog. The canine ability to sniff out mind-altering substances should not be underestimated. And, of course, there is still the fall back of physical searches of the body orifices of newly admitted prisoners, and sometimes visitors, suspected of smuggling. Human ingenuity is immense when it comes to getting drugs past all forms of security and into the hands of men desperate for something to release their minds from the boredom and depression of incarceration. Chocolate eggs intended to be sold as a wee treat to children can turn up stuffed with drugs and nastily hidden in a new inmate’s body. Unpleasant work for officers. The latest security drive is using the hi-tech methods. ‘Electric chairs’ have been bought in a move to stop cons smuggling mobile phones, sim cards, knives or drugs into the jail hidden in body orifices. The new machines are used in tandem with other sensitive drug tracing devices and, of course, those sniffer dogs. The new chairs were an innovation first used in the States where they have been successful and the hope is that the investment of £100,000 on these and other hi-tech gadgets will stop the smuggling of all sorts of items into prisons.
On admission, inmates now have to sit on the Body Orifice Security Scanner (‘BOSS’ – a nice touch!). If anything suspicious is detected there is a bleeping noise and red alerts flash. The chair itself looks like a hi-tech version of ‘Old Sparky’, the favourite method of dispatching gangsters in movies and sadly still in use in the States today. Sitting in it might just give even a hard ticket a frisson of fear. These new scanning machines can be used routinely, not just in cases where there is real suspicion that a distressing – to inmate and prison officer alike – search of body orifices is necessary. Each individual ‘electric chair’ costing £6,500 is sensitive enough to detect metal items as small as a pin or a drug needle. The prison service says: ‘We have bought nine BOSS chairs and have one in every prison including two in Barlinnie. We have also spent £40,000 on mobile drug tracing machines. These are all measures brought in to improve security at jails.’
Drugs and mobile phones are two of the biggest current prison problems. No figures yet exist on the success of BOSS in the Bar-L, but the size of the problem can be illustrated by the fact that in 2008 one scanner found 28 mobiles phones inside Dublin’s Cloverhill Prison. Phones, of course, are vital for those who like to rule their old gangs or set up new scams from behind bars. And there are more of these guys around than you might expect. BOSS may look like a reject from a Star Trek set but it is clearly a much needed new armament for officers in the front line of the drugs war.
All this is a good example of the thinking on the way ahead for the penal system that is going on in Barlinnie and elsewhere. In his nine years in the job, the ex-Governor, Bill McKinlay and his staff have made great strides in civilising the prison. The atmosphere in the halls and in the workshops is far removed from that which pertained at the time of the rooftop protests in the eighties or indeed in what they called the ‘tobacco riots’ of the thirties.
In the departed days of the Special Unit there was much talk of trust between officers and prisoners. That trust is clearly evident today, particularly in the woodworking areas where cons and officers work together in an environment which, with hammers, chisels and other tools, has real potential for danger.
Walk the prison with ex-Governor McKinlay or his senior lieutenants and you immediately sense a feeling of respect for the
staff from the majority of the prisoners. That said, there’s no doubt that there will always be, in any prison, some incorrigible and basically unreformable men at odds with any form of authority. There will also be those bitter men who still protest their innocence. And the history of crime in this city does show that there have been many horrific examples of wrongful imprisonment, from Oscar Slater to the Ice Cream wars.
Bill McKinlay is a friendly, humane man, a man with vast experience of the prison service – and dealing with the press. He answers questions crisply and in a no-nonsense way. Before being appointed governor he had only been in the prison on two occasions, once to enter the charity run round the internal perimeter and the other to help manage the major incident in ’87. On starting the Barlinnie job, his initial reaction included the thought that it was outdated in that you got soaked walking the uncovered areas between the five great halls, the educational set-up and the workshops. He is open and friendly and all the usual old chestnut questions posed at a governor are handled without flannel. Before his retirement we had an interesting little question and answer session.
Q. What is the realistic chance of escaping from Barlinnie?
A. The Scottish Prison Service’s historical record is very good, the annual performance is a success story. I would like to think it is very difficult to escape. Even if that is achieved, where could anyone go as this country is an island and now has agreement with many other countries to repatriate such people should they try for a ‘safe’ haven.
Q. Are conditions suitable for families visiting or would you change them?
A. Conditions are suitable but I would like more time available. Visits can be a heavy demand on families. Years ago prisoners would save from what little earnings they got to send money out; now it is the other way round.
Q. Are you irritated by the outside conception of some that prison life is cushy?
A. Not irritated, but saddened by a media-driven created perception that is far from reality.
Q. What is the situation on firearms, riot shields etc for officers?
A. There are no firearms or the intention to have such. We have Personal Protective Equipment for all aspects of the prison, from catering to removal teams.
Q. How horrific is the prison experience for white-collar criminals?
A. The experience affects everyone in different ways no matter the type of offence. It is not a normal situation and to be deprived of one’s freedom must have an impact on all who experience it – no matter what they say.
Q. Are current procedures for training officers suitable for penal operations in the twenty-first century?
A. Yes.
Q. What are your thoughts on open prisons?
A. All prisoners, if time permits, should go through an incremental process of gradual freedom back into the community so the open prison concept is a necessary and a good one.
Q. What is the situation with smoking in the prison?
A. Smoking is not allowed by staff or prisoners on SPS property. There is one exception to this as a cell, for the purpose of legislation, is designated as the prisoner’s residence and he can smoke in it.
Q. What is the way ahead for Barlinnie and the prison service in Scotland?
A. Physical redevelopment, i.e. new builds. The way the prisoner population projections are going it will need an expansion programme to deal with the demand. Alternatives need to be used and accepted or we will face a significant cost to the public purse that we cannot afford.
Q. What is the prime piece of advice you would give to your successor?
A. Do not stand still and keep delivering initiatives even in the face of high prison numbers and overcrowding. Such pressures make it all the more important that good service and the delivery of same is maintained, not used as an excuse for not improving or moving on.
Two, more personal, questions provided interesting answers.
Bill McKinlay was part of the face of the constant struggle to serve both prisoners and society in Barlinnie. His new deputy, appointed in summer 2009, is part of a changing future for the prison service. Rhona Hotchkiss is making history in the Scottish Prison Service, one of three people recently recruited from outside the service to step into the job at the high level of deputy governor. With a background in the top levels of the NHS, she saw an advert for the job. The challenge of being an ‘outsider’ recruited to take a position at the very top of the penal hierarchy appealed to her. It was a bold move by the prison service to recruit successful people from the outside who would have the ability to look at what was going on in prisons, and help run them, by seeing the whole organisation in a different way from others who had come up through the system.
Rhona’s academic background ticked all the right boxes – an honours degree in religion and philosophy from the Open University, an organisation for which she has the highest praise. Her experience, too, in nursing was also valuable. Indeed it is becoming more evident that prison officers are concerned with much, much more than security – their training puts great emphasis on the need to work to rehabilitate their charges and consider what happens to them when the happy day of release eventually arrives and the doors close behind them. All this is a trend that should be much refreshed by the introduction of people like Rhona Hotchkiss. Incidentally, the other two recently recruited newcomers at deputy governor level came from top jobs in banking and private industry.
It seems a tough job for a woman, though the prison service has had a succession of top female executives, starting from Lady Martha Bruce, through the legendary Agnes Curran of Dungavel, to the present day Director of Prisons, Rona Sweeney. Rhona Hotchkiss is not phased by some of the rough aspects of the job. Like Agnes Curran, Rhona finds that even the toughest of prisoners tend in general to show respect to a female and even if given a mouthful by some character or another it is no new experience. You can get that, too, in the front line of the health service. And a female face about the place can bring a sense of normality and balance to what is otherwise an alien environment.
Rhona has thought deeply about the way forward for the prison service and one of the things she is unhappy about in the current system is short sentences: ‘They don’t work. They leave us no time to engage with prisoners in looking at their offending behaviour or the factors that lead to it; they cost a lot of money and for very little return for the public. I’d support any attempt to find alternatives to prison that are sustainable and more likely to reduce re-offending. The argument about getting rid of short sentences being a way of letting dangerous criminals loose on the streets just doesn’t wash. If they’re that dangerous, why are they only being sent to prison for seven days or a month in the first place?’
There is no getting away from the point made by Governor McKinlay time and time again in newspaper and television interviews – Barlinnie has reached the end of its useful life. It must be knocked down and replaced. But maybe even that will provide an unlikely opportunity for Glasgow to winkle some real long-term good out of this grim place. Odd as it seems to some, prison museums and ‘experiences’ can be a potent tourist attraction. There is a successful example just a few miles away from the Bar-L in Inveraray Jail, which is now an outstanding tourist attraction in Argyll.
The idea of the Bar-L as a museum reminds me of a visit to Alcatraz, which is now a huge San Francisco tourist attraction. You get there by launch, setting out from Pier 33 near Fishermen’s Wharf, and it’s a pleasant sail across San Francisco Bay. A crab sandwich and a cold beer make the journey all the more memorable. And for the tourists it is a round trip as the Americans say, unlike the sail across the bay for the wiseguys and bad guys heading for the island ‘Pen’. However it has to be said that it’s a bit more glamorous than taking the bus to Riddrie. On the way across there is plenty of time to see the expanse of the bay that made the island such a fortress. It is said no one ever escaped alive from the penitentiary during its 29 years of operation. More than 30 inmates were involved in 14 escape
plots. Twenty-three were recaptured, six were shot and killed fleeing from the authorities and two drowned.
Prison humour is worldwide and Alcatraz has its fair share. A tourist rubbernecking round the pen is shown Broadway (the main thoroughfare lined with cells). The guide who showed round the group I was in was an ex-inmate. What had caged him on the island was not dwelt on, but by now he was an old guy reliving his time in the cells alongside such as Big Al (Capone’s own cell is a major exhibit) and other big-time criminals. The old guy could wring the last ounce of emotion out of the hundreds of tourists who go to the island each day. His real tearjerker was the story of Hogmanay on Alcatraz, ‘New Years’ as he called it. Locked in the cells the inmates could hear the sound of the festivities drifting across the moonlit waters of the bay, ‘Old Lang Syne’, the fireworks. You could almost hear the clink of the bottles and the pop of the corks, he said. That night, like no other, you knew you were locked away on the outside of society.
A visit to the former home of birdman Robert Stroud and guys like bank robber Thomas Limerick help make for a good day out – even the kids seem to enjoy it. In this Barlinnie Story we have dealt with some pretty violent episodes, but not one quite as bloody as the death of bank robber Thomas Limerick. He was one of Alcatraz’s would-be escapers. Along with a couple of other cons, he used a hammer from the furniture workshop to club a warder to death and then stormed the gun tower on top of the building. The guard there shot Limerick, injured one of his co-conspirators and the third was captured. Who says prison museums are not fascinating? It is interesting that Alcatraz is both on the US register of Historic Places and is designated a US National Historic Landmark.
The Barlinnie Story Page 21