Views of the Screws

About the Book

p> Views of the Screws follows on from Tales from the Jails and traces some of the principal characters into other incidents, deeper water, greater responsibility and trouble. Newly fledged prison officers from unsuitable civilian occupations flounder in the very different world behind bars. We find that very few people are either all black, or all white. Some are grey, some are both. The wicked callousness that can be so much of Paul Carter is mirrored in a contradictory manor towards some convicts in which he sees some good, or, something of himself. As the anti-authoritarian attitudes of Teddy [Little Shit] Hardman and Fred [the Rectum (Rector)] Danby ,belie their fierce pride in HMP Wooten and its superiority over other jails. The Screws presenting their views here are aware that they are overseeing the death throes of the old regime whilst hopelessly trying to fend of the new. The old system, while not exactly Newgate, or The Marshelsea, were uncomfortable places to be and not conducive to 'many happy returns' The new approach by kindly managers, [ex Woolworth or ICI, university-bred and fast-track promoted, qualified, no doubt to manage rational people] were mostly out of their depth with professional criminals in a closed environment. At the end of the day most of the Screws survive, sort of, to live a very different life. Some successful, some sad, some disabled, some in love!

About the Author

Born on 1936 in the old West Riding of Yorkshire. A younger sister now deceased, Mother brought up in the countryside, Father of mining stock, determined that no son of his would go down the pits, which surrounded us. I was directed towards engineering, but found the call of my Mothers life too strong and went for farming and all things rural. Dad relented and helped me get into Askham Bryan Agricultural College, Near York, so it seemed that my path was set for life. I knew nothing of prisons or the Prison Service until I was in my late thirties. The story of my life is that I was late for everything; rugby -first game at thirty nine; parachute jumping-forty one; serious horse riding-mid thirties, and joining the Prison Service at thirty nine! Twelve of my fourteen years were happy ones, but becoming disenchanted, I left at the earliest retirement age, fifty five. My retirement has had its dramatic moments. I have three wonderful daughters and came to live in a paradise village, in Yorkshire. I lost my wife to cancer in 2000. I then lost my best friend of seventeen years [my horse], and cat ditto. and in 2005 my right leg .to diabetes. I now live alone and care for myself [with a lot of help from my friends] and I still ride! . Q. How do I ride a horse with only one leg? I don't,--he has four, like Desert Orchid and Red Rum!