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Searc's Web Guide to 20th Century Ireland - Raymond McLaughlin (1953-1985)
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Email: info@searcs-web.com Searc's Web Guide to 20th Century Ireland - Raymond McLaughlin (1953-1985) |
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Raymond McLaughlin was born and educated in Buncrana,
County Donegal. On March 11th, 1975
he was sentenced in Birmingham to 12 years imprisonment on charges of causing explosions
and was imprisoned in Wandsworth, Albany, Wakefield and Hull Gaols. In September, 1976 McLaughlin was assaulted by prison officers after a roof-top protest about conditions in Hull Prison as described in this extract from McLaughlin's article 'After the Surrender at Hull' first published in Irish Prisoner No.3, 1977. In 1978 McLaughlin went 'on the Blanket' in Wakefield Prison in demand of political status and a transfer to prison in Northern Ireland. During his imprisonment McLaughlin contributed articles to Irish Prisoner and Irish Voices from English Gaols (1979). McLaughlin was released in 1984 and drowned accidentally in 1985.© I reached B wing reception area - more jeers - whereupon I handed over my property to a screw. I was then ordered to strip in front of thirty screws. When I had stripped off I was told to turn around so they could look up my back passage to see if anything was concealed there. I refused but they meant business because four of them grabbed me and turned me around and checked my back passage while others made filthy remarks. I was then told to put on my clothes except my boots which they exchanged for a pair of slippers. (I found out later that this was for their own protection.) I then walked upstairs to a cell. I was followed in and ordered to strip again. Quite a few of the screws I saw were wearing riot gear and were gloryifying the fact. The cell I was in was totally empty. There wasn't even glass in the window. Ten minutes later 'Mo' was put in the cell opposite mine. I found out later that he had went through the exact same procedures as me. An hour later when the screws were checking the spy holes, one asked the other, 'Is that one of those Irish bastards?' This was followed by childish sniggering. About 3pm I needed to go to the toilet badly so I banged on the door until a screw came along and asked me what I wanted. 'Toilet' I said. To which he replied, 'Do it in your cell, you animal' and walked off. The only option I had was to urinate out of the window. Later that evening I got in contact with other prisoners by shouting out of the window and learned that most had received the same treatment. From my window I could see prisoners being put in prison coaches and police vans to be taken to other prisons. I wondered where I would be moved. I spent an hour checking where certain prisoners were by shouting out of the window. At 7pm the cell door was opened and a dirty mattress plus one blanket were thrown in. (Ah well, it would not be the first time I slept on the ground.) At 8pm I was 'slopped out'. I went to wash my hands and was told by the screws that I must use a sink filled with dirty water that was reserved for 'Paddys'. I ignored them and used another one for which I was frogmarched back to the cell. I spent a couple of hours talking out of the window to my neighbours. I went to bed at 11pm. I kept my clothes on because I expected the worst. At least three or four times during the night the screws walked our landing, banging on doors with their batons, causing sleeplessness, apprehension and anger amongst the prisoners. At 7am on Saturday morning I heard the screws opening the cell door opposite mine. I leapt up straight away and looked out of the spy hole to see about ten screws around Mo's door and twenty more along the landing. I spotted two known dogs among them. Mo was pulled out of his cell by three or four screws while others punched and kicked him. I kicked and banged my door and shouted 'Let him go you dogs' but it was only a half-hearted attempt as I knew there was nothing I could do. Mo was dragged out of my sight but I could still hear him scuffling. A couple of minutes later he was dragged back and thrown in his cell as his door closed one of the screws said, 'We ought to hang this bastard.' They proceeded along the landing, slopping prisoners out in numerical order but none of the prisoners was beaten as badly as Mo. As my door opened I could feel the adrenalin pumping. I marched out of the cell at a fast pace (perhaps to boost my courage) but as I reached the landing I began getting blows to the side and back of my head and I was kicked at the back of my knees. I stumbled blindly through a hail of punches and kicks until I reached the toilet where I was given thirty seconds to finish. On the return I was given the same battering until I reached the cell. 7.30am Mo's door is opened for breakfast. As expected the screws give a repeat performance but this time Mo socks a couple of them but gets another severe beating at the end. They proceed around the landing in numerical order again until they reached the cell next to mine. When the prisoner refused to go a screw said, 'That's alright, we'll give your share to the Irish bastard.' I hear this and it does not help my morale. My door opens again. I walk quickly out of the cell and run into a further barrage of punches and kicks. I get stopped at the corner of the landing by two of the dog screws and am told to say 'God save Ulster' and 'God save the Queen'. I said 'I will say nothing' and was immediately mimicked by a screw using a stage Irish accent. I was thrown by two screws across to where the breakfast was being dished out. I reached for a plastic bowl but it was kicked out of my hand. I soon realised that I was not getting any breakfast today so I attempted to make my way back to the cell but I was intercepted by a boot aimed at my chest. I managed to get hold of the ankle and throw the screw over the grub table. As this happened another screw punched me in the stomach causing little damage. I was determined to stay on my feet because I knew if I went down I was finished. I was then dragged by two screws to my cell and thrown inside it. In the cell I stood against the window with my fists clenched (a subconscious habit) while wondering was there more to come when I heard a screw shouting, 'Unclench your fists you bastard.' I refused. When the door opened again I thought, 'Jesus, the bastards are coming in again.' About seven or eight screws came in and stood in a half circle around me. Dog number one punched me in the mouth which cut both my lips and I felt blood streaming out of my mouth. This seemed to satisfy them for they left the cell without further abuse. After this I catalogued my injuries which consisted of a badly swollen face, cut lips, a row of lumps on the back of my head, a cut at the back of my left knee and stiffness of the body. © Searc's Web Guide 1997-2008 |
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