The Cambridge Two Campaign official site

From John

John Brock, Prisoner EM4946 writes to supporters of the Cambridge Two Campaign web site.
July 2000

I can't recall the number of times I've started this piece for the web site and the number of times I've failed to finish it.

I do have reasons, one of which is a general malaise and apathy directly attributable to either ongoing depression or the medication designed to combat the condition. It's a very real feeling of having so much to say but not having the physical or mental energy to write it down with any complete sense of satisfaction.

A further, and perhaps more significant reason, is that however hard I try my thoughts on paper are always irrevocably drawn to expressions of anger and contempt for those I hold responsible for this injustice and my current imprisonment. This causes me to pause, leave it for a day or two to let the anger subside which enables me to make a fresh start - only to reach the same point again at the next attempt.

Having conceded that my ever present scorn for those individuals is bound to colour all that I think and write, I mention and dismiss it now in the hope that what follows remains free from vitriol.

What I have been attempting to write for many weeks was prompted by a conversation with a fellow inmate some time ago. This one prisoner had encountered a number of very real problems with prison life in the few months I got to know him. He felt able to trust me and I was able to give him support in return. At times I admit I found it very difficult for I had, indeed still have my own fears and anxieties to contend with. Perseverance with encouragement achieved some satisfactory results.

Once, in a later conversation when neither of us were in the shadows of depression, he quite simply said to me: "I don't know what we'd do without you John."

In a quiet moment later I paused to consider what it meant to me, and for him to have said what he did. The inevitable question arose - what makes a man able to apparently survive a prison environment and another have such a hard time, for on the scale of suffering, I was the stronger. The answer to this of course is not always simple and depends largely on the individual and other contributing factors. In this particular instance though I was able to appreciate and, I think, understand this disparity.

I had on the outside what I was able to give him on the inside of this prison, support.

Just as I was his support, the many hundreds of letters, cards and messages that I have received over the months, have been my support. I have read and re-read them all. Many have revived me and shored up a crumbling faith which is the legacy of injustice. A number have made me smile. I have been humbled by the sentiments of some and moved to tears by others. I have come to know people I have never met. All have given me the will to carry on. I only hope that those who have written, especially those who maintain regular contact, will understand the debilitating effect that imprisonment has had on me and its influence on my ability to write the replies that each one deserves. To the authors of letters and the senders of messages, to the marchers, petitioners, event organisers and campaigners, to the many, many more who extend sympathy and encouragement - thank you for caring.

Louise remarked to me recently that out of this adversity she has met many wonderful individuals. Existing friendships have been strengthened and many new ones made. I look forward to the day when I, Louise and the boys can once again share our lives as a family and together thank as many as we can who have given us support and encouragement throughout this nightmare.

I return to the words of that much troubled inmate when I say: "I don't know what we'd do without you."

A final thought. My expectation is that the appeal on 11th July will, at best, result in a compromise and have very little bearing on what I consider justice. If this proves to be the case my intention is to continue the fight, not only to clear my name, but to ensure that those responsible for the charge and conviction are made accountable for their actions. My hope is, however, that there might be those among you with the energy and commitment to further inspire me with your continued support if justice fails again.

John Brock

The worst day of my life
As printed in the Cambridge Evening News on 17th January 2000

I heard that I was to be moved to Highpoint late one Sunday from another inmate. The move itself proved to be one of the worst days of my life. Even more so that the verdict and sentence! It became apparent the route we were taking would take us right by my home. The nearer we got the more my suspicions were confirmed. I find it difficult to describe the feeling and range of emotions present as the van passed by the house. Rather pathetically I think I was hoping to see Louise and the boys in the front garden waving at me as I went past. I saw nothing - no-one. The only memory I have of this very brief episode is seeing a poster in our window proclaiming Free the Cambridge Two. It was all I could do to compose myself in the short time it took us to reach Highpoint. Not an ideal start to a new location and an added stress to the trauma of relocation.

I am looking forward to the visit by Terry Waite next week. I understand he is seeing Ruth as well.

I have up days and down days. Depression is never far away but the medication seems to take off the edge. The one glow of hope is via the letters and reports I'm getting. The support on the outside and the work being done to highlight the injustice of this case is my lifeline.

Thanks to everybody concerned.

John Brock.

Prisoner EM4946 Brock wrote in Jan 2000:

"A brief description of how I feel, what life is like for me at the moment and my thoughts in the case/campaign.

Disbelief at the charge, shock at the Judge's summing up and jury's verdict, devastation at the sentence, depression, fear and bewilderment at being locked in prison. Missing my wife and family more than I can express.

I am not a natural crusader in righting life's wrongs but more of a reluctant individual thrown into what is rapidly becoming a national issue. I will, however, defend my innocence and vehemently refute suggestions that I or my staff team knowingly turned a blind eye to anything.

I have always been open and honest about the problems and how we tackled them.

Prison life is impossible to describe. Suffice to say that my fellow inmates treat me fairly and those prison officers I have contact with act in a professional and thoughtful manner.

I am truly humbled by the level of support and outrage expressed by many either directly to me or through the action group."

From John Brock

I write this just having completed three weeks of a four-year custodial sentence.

To say I was shocked by the conviction seems insignificant in comparison to the devastation I felt when sentence was pronounced.

I don't believe I will ever understand or come to terms with my current situation and the cruel effect it had had on my wife, and our two boys.

May have used the term injustice. I prefer to use other terminology. "Lack of common sense", "avoiding reality", "divisive rather than united actions against a common aim". Whatever the word or phrase, the result is the same.

I have to admit I have taken all this rather badly. Nothing prepares the person who has spent 50 years as a law abiding citizen, and had had a respect for those who enforce the laws, for prison.

I, perhaps rather naively, thought that I, and others like me in this field of work, the Government and the law all shared a common aim in tackling this country's drug problem. I have to believe that this is still the case.

I have spent these past three weeks in an unreal world of despair and depression. Fears and worries about the uncertainty of my future combine with a very real concern for Louise and my family.

My thoughts are always with them. My thoughts of gratitude are also with the many individuals and organisations who have written to me and Louise leaving us in no doubt as to the levels of feeling and support.

For those and others who have felt the need to do something I can only give thanks for it - a debt I shall never be able to repay.

I have moved cells three times in as many weeks because I have to share with another inmate. This is down to my medical condition - assessed as at risk through self harm.

I am being reassessed at present, but it's difficult to explain that my depressive state does not necessarily indicate intentions of self harm. Far from it.

I now have a prison job which increases my spending power from £2.50 weekly to about £8.00.

The cleaning job I have is designed, I think, to take one's mind off things during the hours of the day. I find it doesn't do this - all it does is help me sleep at nights and inhibits the time I have to do the important tasks such as letter writing.

My fellow inmates treat me well and fairly. I find this strange as I don't associate much with them but spend most f my "free time" thinking, writing and reading.

The prison officers I have come into contact with display a level of professionalism with care and concern.

I have great respect for the prison chaplain, Wendy, who showed great concern and kindness when I was at my lowest. She has also maintained regular contact as I gradually grow stronger.

The most disconcerting thought I have is that I could possibly get used to prison life. The main problem is that if I don't, it will be harder and seem linger. My question is: "Why should I have to get used to it?" I believe I should not be here.

There are however a few things I do draw great strength from. The love and support from Louise and my family and the many, many letters, cards and messages from friends, colleagues and total strangers not just from Cambridge but from all over this country.

The care of individuals who have taken it upon themselves, on my behalf, to raise the issues of this case for consideration at the highest level. My thanks go out to them all.

Despite my current situation if I were to be asked do I believe in justice, my answer would be yes. I believe in a justice not solely based on facts and legal interpretations of law but one which encompasses reality and common sense.

Without this kind of justice there is little hope.

Bedford Prison