Here’s another in my series of stories of ‘My Prison Journey’, I hope you enjoy ‘Assistance Required – A Joke too far’.
A joke too far.
“STAFF!”
It was 7-30 in the morning and the Kanga’s[1] scream for assistance ricocheted down the empty wing. There were follow up sounds; a barked command, “STAND CLEAR OF THE DOOR!” Next was the jangling of chains and the scraping of keys against a lock plate. These were all too familiar prison sounds – a Kanga was obviously trying to get into a cell in a hurry, but where? The sound echoed and bounced back on itself – it was impossible to pin down the source through my 3 inch thick, steel cell door.
ALARM.
The protest peeled out across the PA system like a spiteful cockerel. Gates were slammed back from either end of the wing as a MUFTI[2] of Kangas barrelled onto the wing. Their chains jangled like Santa’s reindeer while they tried to identify the source of the commotion.
“WHO IS IT?”
“WHAT’S GOING ON?”
There were shouts coming from the cells now as the residents were being woken by the racket. Now hearing alarms is nothing new in prison – the novelty soon wears off. But hearing an alarm at this hour of the morning – well that was unusual.
“STAFF!” The call came again, “I NEED STAFF ON THE THREE’S!”
New sounds of stomping feet on metal treads, closing in like an approaching train as the MUFTI of Kangas began to climb the stairs to the third landing. Most of them were puffing like a steam train by the time they reached the first landing turn.
“LADS, GET ON THIS! IT’S TOMMO AND JAMESEY! THEY’RE BATTERING EACH OTHER!”
This just didn’t make sense. The guy shouting this information was next door to the eponymous duo he mentioned – but Mick and Jamesey were best mates AND Jamesey was going home today. For the last week he had been giving away all of the gear he wouldn’t need on the out. Why would they be fighting at this hour of the morning?
“STAND DOWN NOW!”
I could hear the MUFTI squad crashing through a cell door, followed by the muffled onomatopoeic “oomphs” and “argghhss” of kangas prising fighting prisoners apart. I pressed my eye hard against the side of my cell door in order to watch a sliver of the landing outside. Sure enough I saw Jamesey doing the tip toe dance of a prisoner being ushered away with his arms twisted and restrained at the small of his back. His ‘going out’ shirt had been ripped, exposing a bare shoulder.
While Jamesey went to the block[3], a nurse headed to his cell to check out his padmate Mick. It was 7.35AM, less than 5 minutes had elapsed since the first call for assistance. I had two thoughts which I am sure were shared by the majority of the 200 residents on our wing. First, the matter had been contained and it was likely that we would be unlocked as per our usual routine. Second, what the fuck had happened? Even if Jamesey’s release had hit a snag, why would he attack Mick?
Sure enough the kangas began to unlock just before 8-00 am and the usual morning routines began. Some lads went for showers, many queued at the water urns to get their morning brewski and some went to collect medication – while about eight of us went to Mick and Jamesey’s cell to see what had happened. But there was nobody home.
By 8-30 am the rumours were running rife throughout the wing but I cursed my luck as the droning nasal call for labour moves rang over the tannoy. Like most on the wing I had to queue up by the gate before heading off to Timpson’s workshop for my morning shift.
I knew that the word would be well out by the time I got back to the wing at 12pm and I hated the fact I would be the last to know what had happened. I feel ashamed now that I was more concerned with the gossip than the welfare of two lads that I regarded as mates – but prison can do that to you if you let it. You can become inured to violence, desensitised to suffering.
But the one thing you can rely on in prison is the spread of information. One of the Kangas, a decent skin named ‘Mick H’ called them ‘The Jungle Drums’. Periodically he would play a game with prisoners. As a kanga he would obviously be privy to information about incidents that had happened elsewhere in the jail, e.g. Joe Bloggs on B-wing had been caught with a gallon of Hooch during a cell spin. Now ‘Mick H’ would approach prisoners and cryptically say, “There was an incident on B-wing 10 minutes ago. I want to test the Jungle Drums. Let me know when you hear what it was.”
I stopped playing the game with him when I realised that dozens of prisoners were offering up titbits of information to him while trying to be the one that got the answer right! It was like being asked to guess a number between 1 – 1,000,000 when the questioner can keep changing his mind – all the while Mick H was gathering gossip and intel! Clever Fecker. Anyway, I digress.
The Jungle Drums that day took the form of a lad who had attended healthcare first and had then arrived in the workshop shortly after 10 AM. Tools were downed as he recounted the story.
About ten days beforehand, Jamesey had come back to his cell to find a letter from the prison informing him that he had been approved for HDC release[4] and that he would be released on this date. Jamesey was obviously delighted. Over the intervening period Jamesey had cleared out his possessions. He was adamant he wouldn’t keep anything that ‘stank of prison’ – all he wanted was the clothes he was going to wear on day of his release.
He had been extremely generous – we had all seen that.
He had given away his Walkman, his DAB radio, hair clippers and razor handle. He had donated every scrap of clothing, all of his food and a large selection of toiletries. He had splurged out on his canteen, buying sweets and chocolates for anybody and everybody. On the night before his release he had given away all of his tobacco – bar a few pre-rolled ciggies to get him through the morning. As far as everybody on the wing was concerned, Jamesey was proper – he was staunch.
Roll forward to the morning of his release and Jamesey had woken with the larks. He was washed and dressed, pacing the cell while he waited for the kanga to turn the key. Prisoners that were being released, transferred or produced to court would usually be unlocked earlier than the rest of us – doors could start opening from 6 am, so when it reached 7 am, Jamesey had become a little anxious. He pressed the buzzer, called the kanga and demanded to know what the hold-up was. He slid his release letter under the door and the kanga went off to investigate.
At 7-30 am the Kanga had returned and questioned where the letter had come from – he had checked with reception, on the computer and with the admin staff and there was no word anywhere that he had been granted HDC release. By all accounts the matter had become quite heated at this stage. The kanga suggested that they wait until unlock had been done and then carry out further investigations.
It was at this point that Mick decided to be helpful by chirping up, “Well I can save you both a bit of time here. There is no HDC release. I copied that letter off somebody else, blanked out their name and date and entered your details – April Fool!” At this point Mick is reported to have curled up into fits of laughter.
Jamesey didn’t see the funny side – and we are back to the start of the story.
As we listened in Timpson’s workshop we deliberated as any jury would.
One prisoner observed, “There are jokes and wind ups, but there are some things that are just a step to far. Mick was bang out of order.” This drew many a sagacious nod from the group.
All in all it was a disaster for both men. Mick got done for fighting, for forging documents, misuse of prison property, unauthorised articles and a whole ream of stuff. Jamesey was done for assault and criminal damage. Both of them had extra days added to their sentence and suffered losses of privileges.
I couldn’t fathom what Mick had expected to happen when he revealed the joke. Furthermore, I was puzzled as to why Mick would say, “April Fools” – it was November.
[1] Kanga – Prison Officer. Rhyming slang from Kanga-roo (screw)
[2] MUFTI – Acronym; Minimum Use of Force Tactical Intervention
[3] block – The Care and Segregation Unit, what the American’s and POWs would call, ‘The Hole’.
[4] HDC release – Home Detention Curfew – in some cases prisoners who have behaved can serve the last part of their sentence in the community wearing an ankle tag and abiding by strict curfew conditions.
