Author: Stuart Butler

I popped in the Centenary Lounge at Stroud Station

Before catching the train to Gloucester for Lydney:

I was on the scent of the industrial Dean

In 1926 and the Great Western Railway,

And, therefore, studied the GWR map

From 1923 up there on the wall,

With more care than my usual perfunctory glance.

I focussed on the area of the Dean

Within a sort of railway quadrant:

Ross to Monmouth to Chepstow to Grange Court to Ross –

Not a huge area but once home to over 40 pits and 6,000 miners

And home to over 30 railway stations,

Here are the stations in alphabetical order:

Awre Junc.,

Bilson Goods, Blaisdon Halt, Blakeney Goods,

Bullo Cross Hlt., Bullo Docks, Bullo Pill Goods,

Cinderford, Cinderford Goods, Coleford,

Drybrook Halt, Drybrook Road,

Longhope, Lydbrook Jc.,

Lydney Docks, Lydney Jnc., Lydney Tn.,

Milk Wall, Mitcheldean Road,

Newnham, Parkend, Ruspidge Hlt. Goods,

Speech House Rd., Staple Edge Halt,

Steam Mills Cr. Halt, Symonds Yat,

UpR. Lydbrook, Upper Soudley Halt,

Walford Halt, Westbury on -Sev-Halt,

Weston-under-Penyard,

Whimsey Halt, Whitecroft.

On I went to Lydney to the Dean Forest Railway

(It’s signposted close by today’s railway station),

Leaving the busy roads for a footpath

To ‘Tramway Bridge’, built 1810,

‘For the Lydney and Lydbrook Canal Company’,

‘Later the Severn & Wye Railway’,

‘The tramroad was built to improve the export of Forest of Dean coal

via Lydney Harbour and the River Severn’.

So, you don’t have to venture far to be

straight on the scent of coal in the Dean in 1926,

Perhaps remembering the words of Ralph Anstis:

‘The effects of the rail strike were soon noticeable. At Awre station milk churns were left uncollected and at Symonds Yat, Upper Lydbrook, Coleford, Parkend, Whitecroft, Bullo Pill and Blakeney the stations were closed with the staff out in support of the miners.’

‘On the second day of the strike, the proprietor of the Lydney Picture House offered a free showing to strikers with an introductory report on the strike too.’

Take a stroll around the town, walk to the harbour,

This small town that once had three stations …

The station-sign at Lydney Junction on the preserved line,

Is GWR inter-war evocative:

LYDNEY JUNCTION

CHANGE FOR

SOUTH WALES PADDINGTON & GREAT WESTERN LINE

I sat down on an old GWR bench,

And pictured the children evacuated from here

During the lock-out of the spring, summer and autumn of 1926,

Hard to imagine, isn’t it?

But here’s the list of pits affected by that time a century ago:

Arles Level, Bridewell & Mailscot Gate, Brominghold,

Cannop, Cross Ash, Crown, Crump Meadow,

Dark Hill, Drybrook, Eastern United, Farmer’s Folly, Foxes Bridge

Harrow Hill, High Meadow, Hillersland, Hopewell Drift,

Hopewell in Wimberley, Lightmoor, Lower Dark Hill,

Mapleford, Marion’s Vale, Milkwall,

New Fancy, New Hawkins No. 1 Level,

New Regulator and Slope, New Speedwell,

Nine Wells, Norchard, Oldcroft, Park Hill, Parkend Deep,

Pastor’s Hill, Patches & Lonk Level,

Pluck Penny, Princess Royal, Prosper Hill, Reading Horne,

Silent Standing, Shutcastle, Steam Mills, Thatch,

Thornton Reeks, Trafalgar, Upper Dark Hill, Valletts No. 1 Level,

Waterloo, Weavers Pitching No. 2, Well Level,

Well Level No. 2, Winnell, Worcester No. 2, Worrall Hill.

If you wish to read further, here are a couple of links:

https://radicalstroud.co.uk/the-forest-of-dean-the-general-strike-and-lockout/

https://radicalstroud.co.uk/gwr-voices-for-performance/

And if you wish to walk further and farther, I recommend these three leaflets available from the Forest of Dean Local History Society:

The Mines Trails

Walk No. 1 The Speculation Trail No.2 The New Fancy Trail No.3 Cannop Ponds Trail

https://forestofdeanhistory.org.uk/publications-for-sale/

Radical Stroud thank the GWR for its support

in the commemoration of the General Strike in our locality and region.

This would not have happened without the GWR.

We thank Stroud Town Council similarly.

“Why did I break the strike and go into work?” you ask me.

Because I’m a Company man, a GWR man,

  A man who thinks that Sir Felix Pole sometimes knows best,

A man who has grandchildren to feed and clothe,

A man who needs the wage and can’t risk losing his job either,

A man who drives his trains with love and with pride,

A man who likes arriving in Paddington on time,

A man who thinks that strikes help no one in the end,

But a man who believes in paying his Union dues,

But a man who thinks Socialism

Should come through the ballot box and not the picket line.

A man who listened to the BBC and read the British Gazette,

But read the British Worker and the local strike bulletin too,

A man who heard the call in August 1914,

And again, in May 1926: “For King and Country”,

A man who gave to the relief fund for miners’ families,

A man who has been sent to Coventry by some of his mates,

A man who lost the company of mates who lost their jobs,

A man who rests his fag on an inscribed silver ash tray,

An official “Thank you” from the Company,

A happy end of sorts to a sorry business perhaps.

But remember that I voted Labour in 1929,

And so did my wife – voting for the first time –

So don’t judge us too harshly,

And I try not to judge my erstwhile mates either,

Just as I heard an echo of August 1914,

So did they.

They didn’t hear the call of St Petersburg in 1917,

They weren’t challenging the Constitution,

They were just supporting the miners,

They heard the call of war time unity and loyalty,

It was just a different call from mine.

Regrets? Well, I do feel a bit lonely now, now that the wife’s no more,

And the family have all moved away – There’s not so much work here now –

But I do have my ash tray for my fags and recall it all.

Regrets?  I don’t know, to be honest.

I can’t take my ash tray down the pub, can I?

And it feels a bit lonely playing dominoes or crib on your own.

Radical Stroud thank the GWR for its support

in the commemoration of the General Strike in our locality and region.

This would not have happened without the GWR.

We thank Stroud Town Council similarly.

I come from a small town in North West Wales, called Blaenau Ffestiniog. It’s a very Welsh place.  In the last census about 5% only spoke Welsh and around 80% speak, read and write in Welsh.  Over a century ago most of my family are recorded in every census as only speaking Welsh. The exception was my hen taid (great grandfather), Gryffydd. Like thousands of others his father had emigrated to Vermont to share their experiences and expertise to exploit slate there. Gryffydd was born in Vermont but came back bilingual.  Blaenau is a town that was one the biggest suppliers of slate in the world. All the male members of my family on my dad’s side were slate miners going back generations. My dad left school at 14 for an apprenticeship in one of the mines.

The picture above is my nain (grandmother) and taid (grandfather) and my uncle Elwyn in the early 1930s. My Taid was a miner.  His name was Ellis. He died in 1933 underground, aged 43. His death certificate was signed by the company employed GP.  He died of heart failure brought on by exertion and exacerbated by a malaria infection. He had served in the army in India. This diagnosis that his death was linked to the infection meant no compensation and no pension. My nain was left alone and unemployed with three young sons. Elwyn was the oldest and died in World War 2. It was certainly hard. My dad, Cadwaladr,  had stories about being picked on by police because he had no father. He also remembered the kindness of the Co-op. He would get a handout of shoes , school uniform etc every  September.  My uncle Jim started off working on Crosville buses but became an official with the TGWU. He progressed to national positions including as President of the Wales TUC. In the family he famously accepted an OBE for services to trade unions in Wales. This was when Thatcher was in power.

It was not spoken about much but there was a radicalism. My nain had been active in Plaid Llafur (Labour party). Famously she was canvassed by Plaid Cymru when in a care home. She sent them away – saying nationalism and fascism – two sides of the same coin.  I remember as a child her telling me about the “Welsh Not” at her school. The UK government had passed a law that meant all schools in Wales having a piece of wood on a rope carved with “welsh not”. Any child heard speaking Welsh in class or in the playground had it hung around their neck. The child with it at the end of the day was beaten. It’s a tribute to towns like Blaenau that despite every effort over decades the language thrives.

The 1926 General Strike didn’t include the slate mines of North Wales but would have paralysed transport. I am sure my family would have been supporting.

The miners in Blaenau went on strike for 16 weeks in 1893. It had strong trade union, socialist and chapel traditions.

No traitors in this house were common posters in the strikes across the slate industry in North Wales when a small number of strikers had returned to work.

The slate mines had a system of “cabans”. These were huts made of slate. There would have been on each level underground. They were where miners had their lunch and tea. They would also pay a subscription. My dad used one and described how they would sing and write and recite poetry. They also voted on sending some of their kitty to support strikers. They were also a place for political discussion and reading. Each caban had a library of books. I remember him telling me about the arrival of a Welsh language edition of the Communist Manifesto. Workers shared news across the mine by a magazine called “Caban”.  I still have a few copies.

This is from Wikipedia  “The caban, the cabin where the quarrymen gathered for their lunch break, was often the scene of wide-ranging discussions, which were often formally minuted. A surviving set of minutes from a caban at the Llechwedd mine at Blaenau Ffestiniog for 1908–1910 records discussions on Church Disestablishment, tariff reform and other political topics.[103] Eisteddfodau were held, poetry composed and discussed and most of the larger quarries had their own band”

All of this in the background shaped my politics and outlook. The 1960’s when I grew up in Blaenau were particularly radical. At school, my mam had caught a train every day from Trawsfynydd to Bala. This went through Tryweryn. The UK government voted to drown the valley in 1965. I was 5. A whole village went and the bodies were exhumed in the graveyard. Nearly all Welsh MPs voted against. The water was for Liverpool. The deep hurt of this is still felt today. Cofio Tryweryn (remember Tryweryn) signs are common in Wales. A few years later Charles was invested as Prince of Wales in Caernarfon. It was  a time when there was a rising campaign about language, culture and the hardships many in Wales suffered. There were many demonstration but also direct action,  including bombing.

We moved to England where I learnt to speak English aged 9. By the time of the 1973 miners strike I was actively supporting the Labour party and joined on my 14th birthday.  The 1970s were a tumultuous time. My family history and the unrest of the 1970s did a lot to shape my politics. I went to University in Manchester in 1978 during the Winter of Discontent.

I moved to Bedford to study at Cranfield University towards the end of 1983. I became active in the Labour Party and the Young Socialists. The miners strike started soon afterwards. Bedford was the home of the National Graphical Association.  A trade union in the print industry. I contacted them on behalf of the LPYS asking if there was any contact with the NUM. it led to me taking a South Wales miner to the Labour Party General Committee a few days later. The Labour party were at first reluctant to pledge support as they thought it would be a commitment that would need to last months. A small group of us gathered in the pub and between us offered accommodation to the first group of miners to stay in the town. I had one or two staying with me continually for the whole strike. We brough together trade unions and Polish and Indian workers associations and many others and did all we could to support the strike. After the initial visit from the Welsh miners we were allocated pits in the midlands to support. John Bennet was from Hucknall Colliery in Nottinghamshire. George Smith was from Lea Hall colliery in Staffordshire. Trevor Gilbert was from Moor Green Colliery in Nottinghamshire. Brian Witts and Bob McMahon were from Littleton Colliery in Staffordshire. The youngest was 22, the oldest 35. I was 24, so a similar age to them.

Brian had an idea while staying with me. He decided to write to every trade union he could find an address for asking for badges. Swapping badges during the strike was quite a thing. His idea was to sell and raffle the badges to raise funds. He was very successful. Most days bags of badges crashed through my letterbox. As a thank you for the accommodation and my role with the support group he got hold of a flat cap and covered it in badges and presented it to me as a surprise. It’s never been worn as far too heavy.

Brian went on to write a book about NUM badges.

Reviews – Enamel Badges Of The National Union Of Mineworkers

While in Bedford they also wrote a pamphlet, again to sell to raise funds. Trevor was an amateur artist and illustrated the pamphlet. The most striking picture is of women on the picket line to illustrate his tribute to their role in the strike.

They thanked those that had supported them in the introduction. It was quite pointed. “all labour members who helped us” was one entry. They also thanked Bedford Communist Party who had one member. All members of the LPYS and Militant got a thanks. It finishes with “last but not least, Gwyn Morris for providing accommodation for us all and putting up with the peculiarities of us mining folk”. I never fully found out what this meant.

A year or so after the strike the NUM printed a large poster with emblems of each mine that was on strike. Each had a handwritten thanks at the bottom. I still have mine. I was the one of a very few in Bedford to get one.

Two years later and there was a strike in the last remaining slate mines in my home town. It lasted 7 months. I was asked to go to connect to the strikers and to cover the story for the Militant newspaper. I had several advantages. I was local, the son of a miner and I spoke the same language. Blaenau had been an outstanding supporter of the NUM strike. South Wales mining communities repaid that support during the 7 months.

Dafydd Iwan is a well-known singer and activist in Wales. Decades ago, he wrote “Yma o hyd” – we are still here. It catalogued the history of Wales with a verse that says despite all of the hardship and oppression – we are still here. A song about survival and fighting back. It is now an unofficial anthem sung at Welsh national football matches. Dafydd wrote a song for the Blaenau strikers in 1986. The words are below. This became the song of the picket lines.

Nid gofyn wnawn am gardod, na gofyn ffafr chwaith
Ond gofyn am ein haeddiant am ddiwrnod o waith.
Er mwyn y rhai fu’n aberth i lwch y garreg las,
Er mwyn y rhai fu’n brwydro ar graig a ffridd a ffas.
Safwn gyda’n gilydd, safwn fel un gwr,
Safwn gyda’n gilydd fel un gwr.

Aeth wythnos arall heibio heb son am babpur bach,
Rhaid sefyll ar y biced a byw ar awyr iach,
Rhaid peidio gwangaloni na phlygu dan y straen,
O freichiau ffrindiau fyddlon daw nerth i gario ‘mlaen.

Safwn gyda’n gilydd, sfawn fel un gwr,
Safwn gyda’n gilydd fel un gwr.

(Dafydd Iwan)

Standing together.

We’re not asking for charity or favours either,
What we ask for are our dues for a day’s work!
For the sake of those who were sacrificed to the dust of the blue slate,
For the sake of those who struggled on the rock, the soil and the face.

We’ll stand together – stand together as one.

Another week goes by without a payslip,
We must stand on the picket line and live off fresh air,
We mustn’t be fainthearted or break under the strain –
From the arms of faithful friends comes the strength to carry on.

We’ll stand together – stand together as one.

In 1986 the strike at Wapping started and lasted a year. The NGA union was the main protagonist against the Murdoch empire. The NGA were based in Bedford and ran a coach down to the picket lines most evenings. I was a frequent attender. I gained some notoriety when a friend working in a bar in Bedford noticed me on the evening news. I was walking away from the picket when, unprovoked, a policeman on a horse sped past me and struck my head with a truncheon. Bloodied and a bit concussed I got back in the early hours. Friends had no way to contact me to check if I was alright.

I joined a union in 1983 as a postgraduate researcher. It was the ASTMS. I remained a member working in the private sector and then in the NHS and then in the Civil Service. Mergers led to it being in the MSF and now UNITE. I held positions on national and local committees as well as on the regional TUC. I organised strikes and protests in the NHS and was the national secretary for the Broad Left in my Union.

Gwyn Morris

“Why did I break the strike and go into work?”, you ask me.

Because I’m a Company man, a GWR man,

  A man who thinks that Sir Felix Pole sometimes knows best,

A man who has grandchildren to feed and clothe,

A man who needs the wage and can’t risk losing his job either,

A man who drives his trains with love and with pride,

A man who likes arriving in Paddington on time,

A man who thinks that strikes help no one in the end,

But a man who believes in paying his Union dues,

But a man who thinks Socialism

Should come through the ballot box and not the picket line.

A man who listened to the BBC and read the British Gazette,

But read the British Worker and the local strike bulletin too,

A man who heard the call in August 1914,

And again, in May 1926: “For King and Country”,

A man who gave to the relief fund for miners’ families,

A man who has been sent to Coventry by some of his mates,

A man who lost the company of some of his mates,

Who didn’t get their jobs back or got sent elsewhere,

A man who rests his fag on an inscribed silver ash tray,

An official “Thank you” from the Company,

A happy end of sorts to a sorry business perhaps.

But remember that I voted Labour in 1929,

And so did my wife – voting for the first time –

So don’t judge us too harshly,

And I try not to judge my erstwhile mates either,

Just as I heard an echo of August 1914,

So did they.

They didn’t hear the call of St Petersburg in 1917,

They weren’t challenging the Constitution,

They were just supporting the miners,

They heard the call of war time unity and loyalty,

It was just a different call from mine.

Regrets?

Well, I do feel a bit lonely now, now that the wife has gone,

And the family have all moved away, of course –

There’s not so much work here now –

But I do have my ash tray to tap on with my fags,

And I can see all those past days through the smoke.

I can see it all.

Regrets?

I don’t know.

I can’t take my ash tray down the pub, can I?

And it feels a bit lonely playing dominoes or crib on your own.

Radical Stroud thank the GWR for its support

in the commemoration of the General Strike in our locality and region.

This would not have happened without the GWR.

We thank Stroud Town Council similarly.

Having read one of King George V’s diary entries from May 1926, I thought it a good idea to seek out a biography of the King. I found Kenneth Rose’s biography second hand for a fiver and read it all with fascination. It’s a sympathetic rather than hagiographic 400 pages – as evidenced by these few following snippets about the King and the General Strike.

‘George V saw himself as King not only of the well-born and rich, but also of the deprived and the poor’ – he gave ‘1,000 guineas for the relief of strikers’ families’ in the 1912 miners’ strike, just two years after ascending to the throne. Fourteen years later, just before the General Strike began, when at Newmarket races, he told Lord Durham (‘a considerable coal-owner’) that ‘he was sorry for the miners.’ “A damned lot of revolutionaries” came the reply … ‘the King turned on him furiously: “Try living on their wages before you judge them.”

Rose comments that after the strike began, ‘the King showed compassion as well as caution.’ He thought it “unfortunate” that Winston Churchill’s British Gazette ‘declared that the armed forces should not be too squeamish’, instructing his private secretary ‘to write to the Chief of the Imperial General Staff; he applied no stronger word that “unfortunate” to the provocative announcement, but the War Office no doubt took his point.’

We now move to ‘The most decisive of the King’s interventions in May 1926’: his opposition to the Government’s intention to prevent banks paying out Trade Union funds to support those out on strike etc. The King’s private secretary, Sir Arthur John Bigge, 1^st Baron Stamfordham, GCB, GCIE, GCVO, KCSI, KCMG, ISO, PC, wrote on May 9: “…the King told both the Home Secretary and the Attorney General that he was not at all sure that the Government would be acting wisely in adopting … the measures … So far the situation was better and more peaceful than might have been expected. The spirit of the miners was not unfriendly, as shown by such instances as Saturday afternoon’s football match at Plymouth between the police and the strikers; but any attempt to get hold of or control Trade Union Funds might … provoke reprisals if money were not forthcoming to buy food, there might be looting of shops, even of banks. The King laid stress upon the inevitable uproar such a Bill would create in the House of Commons.” Rose concludes this section: ‘By resisting the inflammatory legislation of his ministers, he helped to create an atmosphere of conciliation and an ultimate settlement largely free from bitterness.’

Things get more revealing in the next paragraph: ‘It is this sympathetic and statesmanlike approach to industrial strife which dominates the chapter on the general strike in Harold Nicolson’s life of the King. Yet the King could speak with two voices.’

Rose goes on to say that despite the King’s ‘kindly … understanding’ and ‘insight into the minds of his humbler subjects’, ‘he remained a prisoner of his naval upbringing.’ So, ‘There was an ambivalence’: ‘With one hand he would offer financial relief from his own pocket; with the other he would demand exemplary measures to curb disorder.’ Thus, on May 5^th after reading about picketing in the docks in London, ‘He inquired of Baldwin: “Would it not be possible to introduce emergency legislation to prevent the so-called peaceful picketing and so enable unloading to be carried out by non-Union labour; and at the same time relieve the police of the additional work imposed upon them in dealing with picket trouble?” The Prime Minister politely pointed out that this would necessitate the repeal of the 1906 Trades Disputes Act.

But Baldwin was not out of the monarchical woods yet, for ‘That same day’, another letter arrived: “The King is somewhat concerned to find … that the people who are ready and desirous of assisting the Government in the maintenance of law and order are suffering considerably from intimidation from the strikers and other evil disposed parties … until Martial Law be proclaimed and the safety of the country passes into the hands of the Military … one Executive Officer should be responsible for all Police control.” Rose adds that the King, ‘in the same aggressive vein’, also asked whether Trade Union leaders could be arrested.

Rose concludes about the King’s apparent willingness to suspend the rule of law: ‘an abrupt contrast’ with ‘the restraint he preached to his ministers at other times during the general strike and to the paternal benevolence which will always be associated with him’ but with the ending of the strike a day later, the King became, ‘once more a constitutionalist.’

Then comes, of course, that famous diary entry:

“Our old country can be well proud of itself, as during the last nine days there has been a strike in which four million people have been affected, not a shot has been fired and no one killed. It shows what a wonderful people we are.”

Epilogue

David Torrance in his much-acclaimed 2026 book, The Edge of Revolution The General Strike that Shook Britain commented thus in his concluding chapter, The General Strike Reconsidered:

He reminds us of the hypocrisy of Lord Birkenhead who had been at the forefront of Ulster’s determination to stop Home Rule before the Great War using armed force and mutiny in the army if necessary. Torrance comments: ‘In 1914 there had been “things stronger than parliamentary majorities” but not, it seemed, in 1926.’

He goes on to say that ‘If anything, it was the Conservative government rather than the TUC which came close to behaving “unconstitutionally” (Emergency Regulations – the police given ‘sweeping and often arbitrarily exercised powers’ – Civil Commissioners – use of the armed forces – special constables – a newspaper ‘little more than propaganda’ – the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Leader of the Opposition – ‘both central components of the constitution’ … ‘gratuitously’ excluded from speaking on the BBC, ‘which had pretensions to speak impartially on behalf of the nation’ – utilising (contentious) statements that the General Strike was illegal – if that were true then why did they bring in the Trade Disputes and Trade Union Act in 1927?).

Torrance then addresses the role of the King:

‘Even the King does not emerge unblemished from a crisis he felt more deeply than most. Despite efforts by his official biographer to depict George V as consistently tempering the reckless policies of his ministers, the Royal Archives tell a different story of a monarch torn

Between sympathy for the underdog but also appalled by the disorder, “constantly on the alert to prevent the government, through timidity or slackness, from failing in its duty to suppress what the king saw as genuinely revolutionary elements”. (H. Hearder and H.R. Loyn (eds) British Government and Administration, Cardiff, University of Wales Press)

Torrance concludes:

‘Thus George was not the first sovereign, as some have argued, to have fully accept the principle of constitutional monarchy – limited and apolitical – in the modern sense of the term.’

And he goes on to say: ‘Indeed, the idea of urging the Home Secretary to arrest certain individuals or demanding emergency legislation would have been anathema to Queen Elizabeth, who was born shortly before the strike began.’

So, the next time you traverse the subway at Bristol Temple Meads, have a look at the

section about 6000 King George V – one of the most famous steam locomotives ever to grace the GWR and British Railways. Or, even better, visit the STEAM Museum at Swindon to see it in all its glory.

The Swindon-built King George V left the railway works in June 1927 …

Radical Stroud thank the GWR for its support

in the commemoration of the General Strike in our locality and region.

This would not have happened without the GWR.

We thank Stroud Town Council similarly.

Plymouth Strikers v Police 1926

Imagine the scene if you are able:

A procession of some 4,000 people,

With union banners and a brass band

(The day after the same number of people

Battled with police when ‘volunteers’

Attempted to break the General Strike,

By taking out some trams on to Plymouth’s streets)

Marching in procession to the match,

Where thousands more are gathered.

Then imagine this scene if you are able:

The chief constable’s wife starts the game,

Not by tossing a coin of the realm,

But by kicking the ball,

And who knows what animosities

Might have been carried from the day before,

As players collided, tackled and shoved –

For we all know that the red mist

Can descend upon even the most pacific of us

In the heat of football’s battle.

And yet, the British Worker reported

“The keen desire of the strikers to keep on good terms with the authorities is exemplified by a novel event at Plymouth, where, in the presence of several thousand people, a strikers’ team defeated the Police team at football by 2 goals to 1. The wife of the Chief Constable kicked off.”

And the governmental British Gazette reported

“Several thousands of persons had gathered to watch … The wife of the Chief Constable kicked off. The match was played in the best spirit from start to finish …”

And the New York Times reported

“Striking workers marched in an orderly procession headed by a brass band.”

Dear Readers, I would like to set you a challenge,

So as to bring this unique event to life:

Find that mesmerising photograph

Of strikers versus the police,

Use your imagination or research,

Make those football players come alive,

Let’s all write about them and this event,

In a unique way to commemorate

The centenary of the General Strike:

From May 1926 to May 2026.

The government knew that if it were to defeat the unions and end the strike, it had to guarantee food supplies reaching the metropolis. The Docks were problematic from the government’s point of view: working-class, unionised and well picketed. But the Docks were crucial – hence the government’s eventual use of the military there. Paddington was also crucial: it was the chosen entry point for the supply of milk to the capital during the nine days.

Jonathan Schneer in his recently published, quite brilliant and even-handed Nine Days in May shows the importance of Paddington on page 261.

The GWR officially promised the President of the Board of Trade just before the commencement of the strike that “perishable traffic” would continue to enter Paddington with milk the “first consideration.” With milk traffic by road from the South Midlands into London virtually eliminated, Paddington became the nodal point – Schneer writes that ‘even on the first day of the Strike, milk trains were gliding into Paddington Station, not regularly but often enough, and swarms of volunteers were jumping to unload them, and others were packing thousands of milk churns into trucks destined for Hyde Park … The Strike nearly shut down the Great Western Railway, despite management’s many false statements to the contrary. But the milk trains continued to arrive.’ (‘volunteer and blackleg labour’.)

Easy to forget that Beatrice once lived at Standish, near Stroud, with connections to Box, near Stroud, too.

The Ghosts of Strikers Past

As a boy, I grew up with parents and aunts and uncles and grand parents periodically moaning about strikes on the railways. We were a Daily Express household.

But I thought no-one goes on strike at the drop of a hat, and, as a teenager, I thought who on earth can satisfactorily explain the expression ‘trade union barons’ …

Then when a young man, I worked for a short time on the railways and I, too, was involved in a strike.

Going on Strike

I hated the way they looked at me,

Back in I think was 1974,

The day after our ASLEF strike:

There was hatred in their eyes as I trudged

Along the platform to the signal;

It was a long walk, I can tell you,

Me in my uniform, billy can in my hand,

Them in their suits, Telegraphs in their hands,

Watching me walk along that long platform,

Billy can in my hand.

After what seemed to be an hour or so,

I reached the security of the cab,

Where I wanted to turn and shout out loud:

“OK, Let’s start at the end of the last century,

With the Dock Workers’ Strike of 1889,

It showed that zero-hours unskilled workers

Could protect themselves against wage cuts,

And that manual labour did have dignity,

Like on the canals and wharves around Stroud.

And what of Nineteen-Hundred-Eleven?

The Triple Industrial Alliance!

Nostalgic name from Edwardian days,

Railway workers, dockers and miners,

Joined in union solidarity,

Protecting families, wages, lodgings and homes,

Before the Great War claimed them for its own.

The Triple Industrial Alliance!

Defender of the working class after the war,

Against wage cuts and longer working hours,

At the forefront in the General Strike,

In coalmine, railway station and dockland.

And what of the Welsh Hunger Marchers

In the Great Depression of the thirties –

Receiving help and succour as they walked

Through west-country working class towns,

On their poor, solemn, paths to London;

This is all beyond your understanding,

And your capitalist consciousness.”

But the whistle blew:

The flag was green, not red,

And all of this was thought,

Not said.

The later industrial action in the 1970s and 80s culminated in the miners’ strike of 1984-85, and the eventual diminution of trade union power both legally and pragmatically. In addition, the shift from an economy based on manufacturing to one based upon services and finance, coupled with 21^st century practices such as working from home and the gig economy (with zero hours contracts and widening definitions of self-employment) have also led to a decline in trade union membership.

Alongside this, private railway companies and governments have sought ‘value for money’ efficiency savings, cost-cutting, ‘efficiency’ and profitability. And, at one and the same time, passengers, customers and employees have faced a 21^st century ‘cost of living crisis’ – and trade unions have sought to protect their members’ interests.

As an example of all that, I supported the campaign to keep ticket-offices open …

Stroud Railway Station

Yes. I remember Stroud Station –

The name, because one afternoon

Of heat, the express-train broke down there

Unwontedly. It was late June.

My phone broke. Someone cleared his throat.

No one left in the ticket office

Or the bare platform. What I saw

Was Stroud Station – only the name

And no one, no one there, no staff,

Just a broken-down ticket machine

And my broken phone where I swear

And stare at the rain clouds in the air.

And for that minute a revenant cried,

Close by, and around him, mistier

Farther and farther, all passengers

In Stroud’s Five Valleys in Gloucestershire.

I was also involved with the RMT and ASLEF action, joining marches, meetings and picket lines:

RMT Picket Line

Gloucester 18.8.22

We initially numbered thirteen or so outside the station,

Not so much a last supper at lunchtime,

As a selfless stint on the picket line,

To protect services for the public,

And people’s jobs, pay and conditions of service –

And so much more.

An Aussie railway guard shared his baking:

A tray of home cooked ANZAC biscuits,

A connection with Gallipoli in 1916:

ANZACS and the Gloucester Regiment

In solidarity. A melancholy

Echo of a melancholy past.

Members of the public passed by on the pavement,

Leaflets were politely proffered and accepted

(‘Thanks very much.’

‘All the best. Solidarity.’),

More and more car horns hooted in support,

Cheerful waves were given,

Thumbs were raised in solidarity:

It is uplifting when lives are interconnected:

Individual lives fuse in a community

Of widening collective empathy.

Up above the busy roads and traffic junctions,

The sun beat down again and the wind blew hot again,

After the rain and floods of two days before;

Gulls squawked and circled above the station.

On the pavement, Steve worked hard leafletting,

His tabard was emblazoned thus:

‘7 million and me living in fuel poverty’ –

For the focus here at the picket line

Was wide and vast and selfless:

Banners for Unite, XR, Insulate Britain,

Save our Seafarers, Trans Gloucester,

Gloucester and District Trades Union Council:

The struggle here today is not just for the railways,

It’s also for climate’s struggle, and the Earth’s.

What of the future?

Nobody likes a strike, be they passenger, customer, employee, management, shareholder, government or whatever and whoever.

Strikes only happen in extremis.

But what will the future bring?

Quite rightly, railway companies are concerned about the demographic of their train drivers – so many men over fifty. I have read that young people might well be considered as potential drivers to train (no pun) for main line work from the age of eighteen in the future.

Excellent news.

And if you are reading this, young people, I hope that you might consider a career on the railways – be it as a driver or elsewhere on a train, or on the line or on a platform or in an office.

And I hope you find out what unions can do for you too.

But I have hardly touched the surface about job opportunities on the railways as I learned today when visiting the National Rail 200^th anniversary exhibition train at Temple Meads in Bristol (March 25^th 2026). I forgot to mention: Freight Manager, Engineer, Timetable Planner, Camera Operator, Ecologist, I.T. Apprentice, Railway Teacher, Coder, Weather Analyst, Project Manager – all listed there in the carriage about

‘Your Railway Future

There’s a role for everyone in rail. Get ready to dive into the coolest hidden jobs that you probably never knew existed.’

‘There’s loads of exciting, and surprising, jobs on today’s railway. And, on Heritage Railways too. We’ve all heard of engineers, train drivers, conductors, timetable planners and marketeers.

But did you know the railway also employs architects, police officers, drone pilots, ecologists, community rail officers, cyber security specialists, telecommunication engineers and marketeers.

We need thousands more people, from all backgrounds to join the railway … Could you be a future pioneer in an industry going places?’

And so, to conclude, by hearkening back to the General Strike and 1926. Back then, of course, the vast majority of freight travelled by rail not road. Today, of course, the opposite is the case. Our potholed, rutted and jammed roads bear testimony to this in some ways.

But let’s look to a future where we reclaim the past and the roads. The exhibition at Temple Meads informed me that ‘A single freight train is able to transport enough materials to build 30 houses’ and ‘Up to £2.45 billion is contributed to the UK economy’ each year by rail freight.

When I stand on the platform at Swindon waiting for my train and I watch a class 66 thunder through with its seemingly infinite number of wagons reminiscent of some American half mythologized film-scape, or I see a class 66 with its seemingly never-ending train in tow waiting at a red light, and then when I dodge the potholes on my bike as the lorries and SUVs and trucks come thundering past and when I breathe that air … then I know with even more certainty that the future is rail not road.

Rail not road: The Ghosts of Potholes Past …