Bronson 3

by Charles Bronson

  After all your details are confirmed and you’ve given them your autograph, you will be moved on to the stores part of the reception area, where you will be served up prison clothing and other items for use during your sentence.

  You are now the new boy on the block, the new starter, the new inmate. Don’t expect to be throwing your weight about, there’s always somebody bigger, stronger and more violent than you in these places.

  You’re now on your own and you’ll have to grow up quickly otherwise you could go into a state of deep depression. Just remember – nothing is for ever, even the Ripper will escape his incarceration one day … when he’s dead! This whole process of isolation alienates you from everything; you’ve no friends or family to see you through it.

  At such a time, you really need as much moral support as you can get, but don’t expect it. These places are cold, heartless institutions designed to break the will of the strongest man. I should know, they’ve been trying to break my will for the last thirty years. OK, the sky pilot will call at your door and briefly ask if he can be of help.

  ‘Yeah, let me out of here.’

  But he cannot really do much, unless he offers you a drink of wine. Should you be of the Muslim faith then, eventually, you will get to see the Imam. Should you be a bible moth then this will be up your street, but I’m not into these sky pilots; they preach but don’t carry out what they say. But if it helps, go and cry on to them and they might let you have a phone call.

  Then there’s the probation service. Everyone prison has a resident officer; again, as much use as a chocolate fireguard. They only want you to come to terms with your offending behaviour; they want you to change your ways. How the fuck can you change your ways? You’re probably a man and are serving time for a manly act. However, should you be a woman, then you’ve got it tough … the courts do not act leniently towards women. Being a woman is more than likely to mean you are going to go to prison for your offence, whereas a man might walk from court.

  You might, if you’re lucky, be given a set of prison rules. Yeah, they’ve even got ’em inside of prison, too! You will have to weigh up how slack the prison wing is, how far you can push the rules without getting nicked. Believe me, you can get nicked and put on report for the stupidest of things.

  Years ago, you were nicked for the most basic of rule infractions. Now you can plead ignorance. You can grow your hair as long as you want. You can wear some of your own clothes (after making an application or coming through reception with them). You can probably wear your own trainers, but you must have a pair of shoes or footwear to go into your civilian clothing box; I don’t know why, but you do. So if you know you’re going to prison when you go to court, take an extra pair of trainers in with you so you’ve got something for your property box.

  Then you’ll be given a bed pack. The bed pack is needed ’cos your cell will just have a bare bed and mattress. Some prisons have bed packs already prepared for you in the cell, but this is rare. I don’t have to go through any of that routine; I get whisked straight into my special little cell … usually full of cardboard furniture. Once over, after getting out of bed in the morning, you used to have to make up your own bed pack every morning and lay it out at the bottom of your bed, all neat and tidy. Nowadays, you can leave the bed as messy as you want.

  By the time you’ve gone through all of this routine of being on the induction conveyor belt, it will be late and the prison may well be shut down for the night. When I say ‘shut down’, I mean everyone is banged up due to their association coming to an end and the majority of screws like to get away for a few pints of their own special swill.

  You might get the chance to be seen by the prison doctor, or if not on that first night then it will be the next day. The doctor will ask if you’re taking any prescribed medication or if you are an addict or if you have any outstanding hospital appointments for medical conditions. The visit is swift and then you are paraded back to your cell. These doctors are nothing more than vets, that’s my personal opinion. I refuse to see prison doctors due to the way they are up the arses of the Prison Service. I even recall when Dr Harold Shipman first got sentenced, he had all the cons and prison officers queuing up for his advice! Now doesn’t that tell you something about prison doctors? I mean, if the cons would rather see a convicted serial killer over and above a prison doctor …

  You will also be entitled to what is called ‘canteen’ or the prison shop. You’ll be allocated about £2.50, but you don’t get to handle the hard cash. You are then called for by the canteen staff (they could be prison screws or civvies. You can spend your cash on tobacco products, extra food rations, toiletries other than prison-issue items, and so on.

  Never leave these possessions on show; guard them with your life. A half-ounce of tobacco is prison currency; I’ve seen people get cut up over that amount. Don’t try to buy friends with these rations; you’ll get loads of peggers (smokers) coming on to you on the exercise yard for a smoke, until you fathom out who is who … leave it out.

  Eventually you’ll get to see an Allocation Officer. It is their job to decide what category of security to assign you to. There are five levels (not officially) of security category; corresponding to the level of security risk you are deemed to present to the authorities. Doctors (not Harold Shipman, he’s dead) who have been caught drink-driving for the umpteenth time will be allocated Category ‘D’ status, as will bankers (mortgage fraud) solicitors (misappropriation of clients’ funds) and the likes of George Best, and so on.

  Category ‘D’ status is the lowest security risk that can be allocated to you, which means that an open prison awaits you. Should you be lucky enough to fall into the ‘D’ status but are serving a short sentence, then don’t expect to moved instantly. As long as you are within that allocation prison then you are handled as a prisoner of medium security status and have to comply with the rules of that prison. Eventually, if you are category ‘D’, you will be moved to an open prison. This is what happened to George Best when he was in for drink-driving offences; they offered him a place on the prison football team and he turned them down.

  Category ‘C’ security level means a semi-open prison environment is on the cards for you; you’ve got to be serving four years or less for this and, of course, have no previous record of absconding from prison or custody. This semi-open environment is alien to me; I only know of closed high-security conditions; so if you get such a category allocated to you, savour it. Mind you, these conditions mean you’ve still got a 20ft wall topped with razor wire and bottomed out on the free side with ankle breakers! Don’t be fooled into thinking that you can step over a 3ft wall, and you’re probably going to be banged up in a locked cell, so what’s semi-open about it?

  Category ‘B’ status means you are probably serving over four years and have a reason to escape. These prisons are the likes of HMP Frankland; you tend to get more of a relaxed regime in these environments due to the prisoners being ‘time served’ tradesmen – robbers, burglars and the like. The petty criminals are harder to find in this grouping. Although some celebrities have been given long prison sentences, they usually find themselves steered away from such places for fear that they’ll be nonced (sexually assaulted) or attacked. The big boys in these places don’t like to be upstaged! Should you find yourself in such a place, then show respect to all around you … you just don’t know who’s who.

  Category ‘A’ status means you’re nearly the créme de la créme of the criminal underworld. Prisons like HMP Full Sutton are going to be the places for you while on your tour of the prison system.

  Category ‘AA’ status does not officially exist, but that’s when you get the likes of Bob Maudsley, Reg Wilson and me being locked away from the rest of the cons, even from those classed as Category ‘A’. Should you find yourself in such circumstances, then you can kiss your arse goodbye.

  Category ‘?’ – this category is hard to define; you’re probably a spy or a war criminal. There has be
en talk about the war criminal Slobodan Milosevic being sent to an English prison and he would fall into this category. He would probably be sent to a secret location like HMP Hull in the old ‘special unit’ or to HMP Parkhurst in the protected witness suite. But a mainstream venue like HMP Belmarsh is also an option due to its high security.

  Right … you’re now in the system and starting to settle down. You’ve seen all the dodgy-looking characters who have assessed you and you’re ready to meet your fellow inmates. There are right and wrong ways to do things behind bars. Some first-timers try to make out that they’ve done time before, but you soon get caught out. Just admit it if it is your first time behind bars; don’t ruffle any feathers.

  One of the big problems in all prisons is the drug problem, and it isn’t that there’s not enough of it about … you’ll have the drug barons swooping down on you like flies swarming around shit. They’ll be offering you anything you want in the line of drugs, smack, crack, cocaine, happy baccy and even brown (heroin).

  The laws behind bars allow for what is called ‘mandatory drug testing’. That means if they request you to give a urine sample, you cannot run off and hide, you’ve got to do it. Me, I personally refuse these tests ’cos they can’t give me any more time on top. But for you, you have to comply or you’ll lose time. The reason I don’t piss for them is that I am religiously against all drugs; they are taking the piss by even asking, and it is an insult to my integrity. But you must comply … or lose time.

  When they brought the mandatory tests in it changed the whole drug culture behind bars. Screws were happy to turn a blind eye to those smoking cannabis; it calmed people down and that was what was needed behind bars. They didn’t want hyperactive cons running around, but mandatory drug testing brought about exactly the opposite of what it was supposed to stop!

  Why? I’ll tell you why, because cannabis stays in your system for up to twenty-eight days. Crack is not oil-based like cannabis and therefore doesn’t stay in your urine for too long, you piss it out within a day or so! Should a prison officer be able to tip the wink and warn the cons of an impending drugs test, then they can cool it down a bit and pass the test, but any con on cannabis doesn’t stand a cat in hell’s chance. Meddling politicians, this is what they do, and then when prisoners kick off due to not being able to get their fix, it is the prisoner officers that get the backlash. Mind you, some prison officers deserve a whiplash, never mind the backlash!

  So if someone does offer you some ‘puff’ (cannabis), then you’re not just letting yourself down, you’re also letting your family down. Testing positive for drugs behind bars goes against you; it can upset parole plans, reclassification of your security category and make them come down hard on you whenever they want.

  You’ll be wanting some contact with your family, and you are entitled to what is called a ‘reception visit’ (RVO – Reception Visiting Order). Everything in these allocation prisons is done by application. You practically can’t even have a shit without putting in an application. Different prisons have different methods of putting in applications. Some prisons have a wing officer who stands with his board in the morning; you go up to him and make an application for this, that and the other. Make sure you know where to go to make these applications, otherwise you’ll miss out on the daily applications and have to wait until the following day. Me, I’ve got a manservant who very kindly comes to my door to take my applications.

  There used to be three ways to get a message to someone – letter, telephone and tell a woman. Prison has many more methods than this, but that is for you to find out. You can be in your cell and you might hear the faint pulse tone of a mobile phone; don’t ask me how they get hold of them behind bars, but they do. In the unlikely event that you haven’t been able to secrete one of these up your arse, then you’ll have to get sorted for the wing phone. Each, if not all, prison wings have a telephone for use by the cons; it is controlled by the centre or wing office. They can knock it off whenever they want, or put it on. All calls can be monitored, so don’t swear your life away in these telephone calls.

  You used to be able to buy a BT Phonecard from the canteen, but now most prisons are changing over to the PIN system. You get issued with a PIN number and this can be credited on a weekly basis up to a certain amount. All of the numbers you call are also stored; you cannot now just ring any old number. Once, cons used to be able to call any number they wanted and this led to an outcry when witnesses were being threatened by cons … you get my drift.

  The less security risk you represent to the prison service means you will eventually become a lower security category and things like using the phone at set times aren’t as strict, you can relax; but in a tougher prison, then you have to handle all the shit they can throw at you. This is why many prisoners crack up, including me … I lose my rag over the pettiness of things and broken promises. ‘Yes, Charlie, you can use the phone at six o’clock …’ Six o’clock arrives and no phone! No wonder I crack up.

  When you’re behind your door, time goes by quickly. But when you’re in an open environment, I’ve heard from many prisoners, time drags on. How you do your time is up to you, but always try to do it the easy way … not the Bronson way! Don’t try to beat my record.

  3

  A-Z OF PRISONS

  Welcome to my world. It’s a journey through the penal system. This chapter covers all of the prisons and special hospitals I’ve been in over the last thirty years.

  I want you to strap yourself in and come with me on the ride of a lifetime. It will open up your mind and blow a hole clean through your soul.

  This journey is on the very edge of the razor … if you slip, you are dead! The hole is bottomless, black and empty.

  Your sweat turns to ice

  Your blood to treacle

  Your tears to fire

  There are no rainbows in hell

  The stars are grey

  The sky is crimson

  The grass is concrete

  The walls are stone

  The glass is razor wire

  Face it … you’re caged!

  There can be no escape from your mind

  How do you escape from yourself?

  The eyes are mirrors

  The mirror is just a reflection

  It’s you

  The journey sucks you in

  The reality blows you out

  There are no brakes

  You can only crash

  And die

  Dead men do breathe

  Dead men can talk

  Prisons are full of stiffs

  Dead – rotting meat

  Eyes of marbles

  Faces of stone

  Heartless

  Soulless

  Psychos full of hate

  Full of bitterness

  Full of nightmares

  Like a canary in a cage

  A bear in a box

  A tiger in the zoo

  They’re all dead inside

  Lost souls

  Nothing to wake up for

  Forever sleeping

  Forever dreaming

  Dreaming to roam the land

  Grass and trees

  Lakes and rivers

  Flowers and butterflies

  Companionship

  Love – and freedom

  This is a book on a lifetime of prison madness. If you have read my books you already know I’ve been certified insane. But who has the right to say who’s mad?

  What is normal? Is a psychiatrist normal? They say they are madder than the lunatics.

  If you stuff your face with shit

  You become shit

  If you jump in a sewer

  You smell of shit

  If you spend your life talking with madness

  You become mad

  Did you know there is a high rate of suicide and nervous breakdowns among psychiatrists? Alcoholism, too! They are fucking insane … take it from me!

  The lunatics are taking over
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br />   The asylums are exploding

  Mad men are the genius!

  Look back in time

  Go right back in history

  Some of the Greats were a bit strange. Were they insane? Just because they are not normal don’t make them insane!

  Is an Eskimo mad living in ice?

  Is a headhunter a psychopath?

  Is Saddam Hussein insane?

  Who the fuck are we to say!

  Is my journey insane?

  Am I insane?

  I’ll leave that for you to decide

  Is my art insane?

  Is my poetry insane?

  Is my philosophy insane?

  I say I am just on the edge.

  Licking the honey from the razor’s edge

  It’s dangerous

  It’s a serious gamble

  Crossing a road is a risk

  Drinking tap water is a risk

  Catching a plane, a train, a taxi

  It’s all a risk.

  A swim in the sea could be your last!

  That shark could be waiting for you

  There could be a mad axeman behind that tree

  Just waiting, watching, wanting your head!

  It’s life … Fate … Meant to be!

  You can’t change it, nobody can!

  Nowadays they fly planes into skyscrapers!

  They strap bombs to their bodies

  They push bombs in prams with babies on top

  They release gas in the air

  Germ warfare!

  Is all that insane?

  What journey are they on?