Strike Stories: Stephen Smith (miner)

In this series of Strike Stories we hear the highs and lows of that life changing year through the eyes of miners, families, police officers and politicians as they recall what life was like in 84–85.

The Strike Stories form part of the Streic 84–85 Strike exhibition which is on display at National Musem Cardiff until April 27 2025.

© Mike Thompson

Stephen Smith (former miner, Maerdy pit)

I was one of the last set of apprentices they took on with the old National Coal Board and ended up working at Maerdy colliery. I was a bit of a naughty boy in school and I applied for a few apprenticeships in gas, telecoms, all sorts. But I’m the fifth generation in a mining family and ended up following suit. At 17, I got a mining craft apprenticeship, which was to get you ready for management further along the line.

I’ll never forget my first day going underground. My stomach was churning as the cage dropped down the shaft.

We were on strike pretty much every year once I’d joined, usually about pay and conditions. The Strike in ’84 was different. It was all about the preservation of our jobs and the mining communities.

I was one of the lucky ones – I didn’t have a family to support and I was still living at home. My father made me pay rent right the way through the strike, he said that if I supported it then I should feel the hardship of having no money exactly the same as everyone else on strike.

We show of hands vote about coming out on the Sunday in the Maerdy Working Men’s Hall. The world’s media were on our doorstep waiting to see if we would back the Yorkshire miners (Cortonwood is where it started). We voted to come out on strike.

We started to travel to other mines and join picket lines to try and talk to the lads going to work and persuade them to join us. Often, we’d be turned back by the police en route – I was convinced we’d had our phones tapped as there was no way they’d have known about the little roads we took, otherwise. Once, we ended up getting pulled over and the coach driver was told he’d be arrested if he took us any further. So we got off the bus and in the middle of the night walked through the drizzle to our designated pits that we were going to picket.

There was a new employment Law – Tebbit’s Law, about not being allowed to picket in groups of more than six. Occasionally, we broke it. At Newstead Colliery, when we broke the line, a copper grabbed by finger and bent it back. then put my arm behind my back, another copper came alongside and was punching me in the side and I was bundled into a police van. I got taken to the station and put in a cell along with a few others from my pit. At about 3am I was taken from the cell and interviewed by CID who began with ‘Are you a member of the Communist Party? Are you a Scargill supporter?’ and so on. We were in overnight. We were given a piece of toast and something pretending to be tea and sent to court in handcuffs, which was humiliating. The police inspector told the court there were around fifty people and that I was the instigator, pulled from a group of 50 or so pickets. This was a lie.

I was charged with Breach of the Peace, the NUM lawyer said: ‘Plead guilty or you’ll be sent away, the NUM will pay your fine.’ I was still a teenager, so I took the advice and pleaded guilty, even before any statements were read out. The magistrate told me that if I appeared in front of him again he would be sent to Risley (Grisly Risley as it was known) remand centre.

It was rough. There were times we’d be kicked in the shins or have our feet stamped on so we’d end up wearing our work boots, for protection. Once, a copper started whacking my head repeatedly on the bonnet of a car. There were reporters there. I shouted ‘I hope you’re going to report this!’. The media were dead set against us, they painted this misconception that we were a bunch of thugs! It was the state and the police that were the thugs, and there should be an enquiry as to what involvement the government had on the strike and the police thuggery.

We were fighting for a full year – not just for our jobs, but for our communities. Going underground builds such incredible, tight camaraderie, we had each other’s backs. It was character-building and we were all in it together – before the strike, during and after. Everyone worked in or around the Pit. The impact was wide-reaching. I had an invitation from Oxford and went and spoke at a fund raising event. They raised an awful lot of money for us and sent us food parcels.

My only regrets - being unable to save our jobs, communities and subsidiary industries. And that I’d pleaded guilty to a breach of the peace when the police had lied. I was not guilty.