Bronson by Bronson Charles

Author:Bronson, Charles [Charles Bronson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781843587453
Publisher: John Blake
Published: 2011-05-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

I swept into Wandsworth Prison to a hail of sirens – I’m sure they must have mixed me up with someone else! But for the first time in years they decided to put me up on the wing with the rest of the Cat A cons. Most had double or even treble the sentence I was facing.

There was Wayne Hurran, 20 years; Kevin Brown, 17; Micky Reilly, 14; Steve Davies, 12; Jimmy Saunders, 17; Dennis Campbell, 16; and Jimmy Hampton, 15. However, they all kept their spirits up. ‘Mad’ Frankie Fraser was also back in. I used to see him in the yard most days. Frank is a legend. He had once been very ruthless, but he stood out as the most polite man in any jail. Fortunately, he was only doing a three-stretch, so he soon got out. Not so long back he got shot through the face on the outside and survived. He was 66 years old and pulled through. He’s the mean machine! Frank always calls me Genghis Khan – I can’t think why, but if Frank wants to call me by the name of a famous warrior then he can. He’s got a big place in my heart.

After two days, I got the arsehole. I picked up a screw and slung him out of the way. The silly bastard was standing in my way, trying to make himself look special and make me look silly. It didn’t work. Here we are, a screw, 21 years old, called an officer, with a set of keys and a truncheon – it’s power! But it doesn’t mean anything to me. He only gets respect from me if he deserves it. Lots do get my respect, but pricks like this never will. They are basically idiots and they wind me up.

So after this I hit the block – what’s new? They put me in a smelly cell with no windows. I slung all my clothes out the door, so they then put me in my old cell, number 13. The next day they put me back up on D Wing, where I had started. But violence was bubbling up inside me. I smashed my cell up, so I was back down in cell 13 again. The next day I found myself in a prison van. I believe now that my old friend Prison Officer Wells asked to get me moved. He’s not a silly man. He knew I was unsettled and unhappy. I just couldn’t come to terms with the fact that I was inside again.

On 24 June 1988 I arrived at Full Sutton, the newest top-secure jail in the country at the time. It was built on a marsh up near York, but for me it might as well have been on the moon. It was too far up north for me. How the fuck could my Uncle Jack get up there to see me? The jail itself was spotless. Every cell had a toilet and sink and it had the best prison gym in the country.

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