Last October, a small group of my brothers and sisters joined the TUC anti-cuts demonstration in London. The protest was good natured with an excellent mixture of people from all walks of life, different ages, genders, races, creeds and “classes.” After speeches were given in Hyde Park, fellow antifascists decided to head to Parliament Square as we had heard the police were blocking a peaceful protest there. However, we encountered little problem and all sat about enjoying the sunshine. Our small group then decided to split off to support “The Poor Doors” action in Aldgate.
We headed into Westminster Tube station where some of the men with us decided to use the facilities. I carried on walking only to see three very obvious fascists, all scared, standing abreast at the top of some steps. I continued to walk towards them as I had thought to myself, “they can fuck off if they think they’re going to intimidate me!” and started to chant “Nazi scum, off our street”. As I reached the top step the men closed around me and the closest snatched my antifascist flag, snapped the pole over his knee and held it aloft like Excalibur! This actually made me laugh, as a month before, we had seen a photo appear on Pie n Mash Squads wall showing a very similar pose, only with what looked like a discarded placard from a demo in Cricklewood. So as I laughed, I said to him, “Are you happy now, you have your wee trophy like you had in Cricklewood?” With that I felt a blow to my shoulder, then one across my back, kicks to my legs, and an almighty shove which resulted in me landing face first at the bottom of the steps. By this time my friends had caught up, but unfortunately for my attacker, so had the police. Meanwhile, my friend had restrained me as I hadn’t realised there was blood pissing out of my head and chin, I was trying to get up to give chase too. Not sure why, but I was fucking angry and wanted to remonstrate some more. She wasn’t letting me and was holding her coat on my injuries to stem the blood flow. By this time a police medic had joined us, and it became clear that at least two of the attackers had been arrested. The medic began to administer first aid, and an ambulance was called. He bandaged my head but the blood kept coming through so he put more dressings on. As this was happening I became aware of a group of people singing “Lola” and laughing, and taking photographs, I went a bit berserk at this stage and my friends ran after them, only to be stopped by more police arriving. (It’s always struck me as sheer lunacy that they should attack someone, in the most cctv’d up square mile in Europe, on a day when tens of thousands of people were there being policed by vast numbers, but that’s fascists for you).
So, London being blocked by thousands, the ambulance could not get through, and I started to pass out. The police eventually decided to take me to the hospital themselves in a van. My friends all piled over to the hospital to make sure I was safe, and whilst I was being treated they checked Facebook, and sure enough the idiots were boasting about having attacked me, including photographs of me in Parliament Square 20 minutes before the attack took place, and of course the one of me bandaged up in the tube station. I was well known to these fascists as I was one of the admins for a Facebook page that mocked them. They hated our page so much they had flags, t-shirts and banners made, and once demo’d a Preston councillor who had commented on the page, who they had decided was also an admin. Over time they found out my identity, after I was betrayed by a so called friend. They posted my identity, my address, photos of me, and where I worked, encouraging people to contact my boss (who’s reply was “we can’t sack her for not being a racist”). They tried intimidation, mockery, bullying and relentless arguing, obviously to no avail. After the attack, it was disclosed that the main attacker was a well known fascist called Jeff Marsh (Real name is Joe Turner) leader of Casuals United, Pie n Mash Squad, South East Alliance, former EDL spokesman, one time Seaside football hooligan (who wrote a couple of shit books).
Back to social media, and whilst his comrades were busy celebrating their major victory over this 5ft 2″ tall woman, we are busy screenshotting everything. Marsh was remanded in custody and the second arrested person was bailed. Marsh was bailed later that week, and suddenly every post and comment relating to me was deleted. This did not curtail the months of intimidation, threats, mockery “Lola, Lola, she fell over”, insinuation that I was a “fat smackhead” (insert oxymoron thoughts here) an alcoholic, who runs an antifascist Facebook page, attends every demo in the country, attacks people violently, riots, attends two demo’s on the same day 70 miles apart, at the same time! Well, yes, ridiculous I know, even I’m not that good, I do all this whilst being a single parent to 4 teenagers, whilst holding down a full time job. I think I deserve a medal!
Last week Marsh was found guilty of Actual Bodily Harm and sentenced to six months in prison. A police witness, cctv and the brave lass that held her coat on my head all disagreed with Marsh’s version of events where he claimed it was self defence and that I had attacked him with my flagpole. Irony is that his “wee trophy” ended up as police evidence, the pole, a good inch thick by the way, condemning him. The flag itself is in my possession. So all he did get was jail time for his “walk amongst us”. (Incidentally, I heard from another comrade that he had been attacked himself by them the same day, and he had whacked one of them on the head with his flag pole… Perhaps this explains their self defence claim?!).
Even now, with all this damning evidence, they still claim I lied. I had stitches in my eye and chin and had had to get it restitched later in the week as it had split. The pain in my hand from the fall proved to be a small broken bone and tendon damage. This was not seen until a further set of x-rays were taken the following week. They are claiming that I made up my injuries, but the fact was that the police never sought the medical evidence from my local hospital, only St Thomas’s In London. Photographic evidence and notes of my bruising were sent by my GP. But all the police showed in court were 7 or 8 badly blurred images of my wounds. I still have the images. I don’t know how the police fucked them up so badly, but then, the officer in charge of my case did say to me “when I see you UAF lot with bottles in your hands, rioting, I surmise you are all as bad as each other”.
Malatesta’s Blog asked me to write this wee piece, they have been massively supportive of me throughout this whole ordeal. Antifa, Class War, and many more, have had my back the whole way through and for that I am eternally grateful. Let’s hope now, that these thugs learn to accept that their hero is a woman beating bully, nothing more, and they start to get on with their lives. As for me, I’ll be opposing fascism until they cart me off in a box.