Blockading on Monday

We had intended to start blockading after 7.30 when the shift change at the base increases the volume of traffic wanting to get in. However, with anarchistic women the best laid plans can go astray. Two women suddenly decided to kick off at 7.20, by sitting down on the roundabout. At that point (and not wanting them to become isolated) we made individual choices about what to do. Some women chose to sit down in front of the gate immediately. Others waited until the traffic started moving again, and then found a section of the road near the gate where the police were thin on the ground and laid down. Others waited even longer and then made their moves, which apparently surprised the police who thought we'd finished. The police were very keyed up and seemed to have instructions to arrest immediately, so some women were arrested crossing or dancing on the road, without being given time to move. In each case, traffic was blocked for a relatively short period of time, though the radio reported that these serial mini-blockades had backed traffic up for over an hour (compounded by the fact that they took place during what passes for the morning rush hour at the base).

My personal experience was this: When the first two women blockaded, I was in the middle of breakfast. I had my cup of cocoa in one hand and four empty cups in the other as I was taking them across the road to set up breakfast for the others in the second gazebo, by our tents. I walked across the roundabout to take a look at the blockading women and check everyone was okay. One was being dragged to the side, and traffic was stopped. As I was walking back, where the A814 swings into the base, I was grabbed by a burly police officer who told me to get out of the road. Unfortunately, as he jostled me, he spilled my cocoa. Safety instructions for travellers tell you that when encountering turbulence you should sit down. So I did.

Immediately several police officers swooped on me and grabbed my arms, so I put down the empty cups (didn't want them to break or risk hurting anyone) and asked one of the police to hold my cup of cocoa (which, bizarrely, he did). I then lay down gracefully, as whale-like and heavy as possible.

It has taken me decades to put on this much weight, so it took them some time and several tries before they managed to lift me off the road. I thought I would be moved to the side, since apart from the first instruction to get off the road, the police did not warn me or threaten me with arrest. In fact, I was carried, spread-eagled, down to the bus stop. They had to let me down a couple times to readjust their grip, during which I continued to sprawl. They were, however, doing their best to be respectful of my safety and modesty as they carried me. I was then taken to the police vans opposite the cemetery and 'processed', which meant they asked my name, which I gave, and various personal questions which I did not reply to. Together with several women who had also been taken to the vans, I was informed that I was being arrested for breach of the peace and would be photographed with my arresting officers and put in the van. I was not formally charged at this time (or, indeed, any other time) or given a chance to have my reply noted down.