This was my first proper involvement with Red Action. We (DAM) arranged to stick with them to harass an NF march that was going through London’s West End. The NF got police protection so we hung around the fringes shouting insults at Ian Anderson, Joe Pearce, et al. (See Appendix 3). Later we were in the pub when scouts reported that a couple of the NF’s leaders were walking down Oxford Street. Two comrades and myself went and found them. It was a classic stand-up fight in the middle of the road – a bit like you see in those old pictures of boxing. Eventually the NF blokes legged it and half managed to get into the back of a moving taxi while we were still hitting them and trying to drag them out. The taxi driver sped off leaving us three laughing, with one comrade holding the collar of one of the fascists jackets! (There were references in the next issue of Red Action about how that fascist {Steve Edwards?} would need to make an urgent visit to his tailor.)
Only a minute later, as the three of us were walking down the pavement back to the pub, a police van screeched to a halt about 10 yards in front of us and about eight cops leapt out and ran straight towards us. ‘Shit, shit, shit’ I thought. ‘Somebody has phoned them up’. It became one of the happiest moments of my life as the cops raced past us, not realising that us three walking casually were the ones they were after!
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