Many readers of these pages, will know well, of the violence metered out to my tribe, by the authorites, in the past, and still ……

Specifically, actions related to event at and around Stonehenge.

I wrote an account of the action, and susequent court case. You can read at:

Had recently received this email and thought it an inspirational account, so, I emailed him back and asked to use it here. He said ok.

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Re: battle of the beanfield

no worries mate use it as you see fit.

Your right the kids today do need a bit of inspiration today. They are wild but in a different way.

Us we just wanted to be free.

I hope you still are


one love JJ

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Hi tash

wow your site bought back some amazing memories. It seems that every body you meet was at the beanfield these days. But I was and I wonder if you remember me. I just missed the beanfield ambush. I arrived on the lord something or others site riding a jet black 250 kawazaki. I couldnt believe what had just gone down. And i was just going from van to van trying to concole everybody.

Just then a giant red gold and green bus with two family of rastas appeared. It limped into site with a busted radiator I think. I suddenly realised that here was an opportunity. I asked the rastas if I could get the money would they take me to their frontline in birminham to score a big bag of weed.

Looking round at the people they quickly agreed. So I then went round every tent collecting money. You must remember that the old bill were not far from the opening and still searching everybody coming in and out of the site so there was a risk on our part but we went with a “if we get caught fuck it attitude.”

The travel up to birmingham was brilliant, we smoked some weed and started to get to know each other.They interduced me to the game of if the other guy dont drop his headlights, blind him with yours.This game made me slightly nervious so I gently persuaded them to drop this.You must realise it was a long boring journey, so we filled it with reasoning. Basically we deduced that these rastas wernt that different from the rastas that I knew, the only real difference being the accent; which me being a dyed in the wool londoner found bloody funny. anyway we decided that when we got back to the rest we were just going to front it with the beast. So when we got there the Rasta who was driving his car actually bibbed his horn and gestured for the old bill to get out of our way. And they did and the rest is history.

We arrived in camp with a blackbinliner full up with weed. The people started to gather round to take their share( or whoever put money in the pot. It was weird because as that weed went round the whole atmosphere of the camp changed. I saw smiles appearing on peoples faces. And later a party did start. I remember the rastas got their sound system from out of their bus and put them up in the trees.

And as I looked around at the smiling faces, this brixton boy thought he had made a difference. a small one, but one worth making

all the best.


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More about all this on my main site at:


Solstice Ritual:


The Story so far: