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getting involved in huge gang fights against rivals from other areas. Our main rivals were from a suburb of Wolverhampton called Tettenhall. Sometimes there would be as many as 200 of us battling in parks and on waste ground. When people began to get seriously hurt the police became involved and numbers dwindled to a hard core of about 30 on each side. The younger boys would pass on messages arranging the venue for the next encounter. I knew someone vaguely associated with the Tettenhall gang and sometimes he would give me advance warning of planned ambushes. He told me one evening that members of the Tettenhall gang would be at a particular disco: they planned to come looking for some of us afterwards. I decided to pre-empt them. I got a friend called Cyril to take me to the disco on his motorbike. We set off on our mission, not knowing quite what we would be up against. We walked into the darkened disco: the flashing strobe lights momentarily illuminated a group of the Tettenhall boys at the bar. They saw us at the same time. The DJ knew me and came over for a brief chat before returning to the stage. As he passed the Tettenhall boys they threw drink over him and jostled him. I knew they were hoping to provoke me into doing something. One of their number kept looking over at me, so I mouthed the word "wanker" at him. He came bowling across the dance floor and I went to meet him halfway. We had almost reached each other when I took a step back and kicked him as hard as I could between his legs. Before he had slumped to the floor the place erupted into violence. Cyril and I were fighting side by side as hard as we could, but we were completely outnumbered and I was sure we were going to get a hiding. Girls were screaming and the lights had been turned on. However, for some reason, one of their gang turned and ran; this led to a collective collapse of nerve and they all followed him. We chased them to the exit and stood by the doors to make sure they did not come back in. I could see two stewards putting onto a stretcher the boy I had kicked: he appeared to be gasping for breath. As they carried him out Cyril picked up a heavy pint glass and smashed it across the head of the outstretched patient. The stewards were too astonished to say or do anything. We just walked out of the hall and away.
    A few weeks later I was walking through Tettenhall with Cyril and three others when we came across a gang of about 25 of our rivals. I knew if we ran then some of us would probably get caught and beaten. I told everyone to run at the Tettenhall gang who were about 400 yards down the road. At first they stood their ground and looked confident, but as we got closer I could see their courage fading. A few at the back turned and ran which panicked the rest: all but one of them took off up the street. I told Cyril and a boy called Des to get the remaining boy while three of us chased the stampeding herd. They had fear on their side and had got too far away for us to catch them. I ran back to find Cyril and Des fighting the solitary Tettenhall boy. Cyril was punching him in the head, while Des was trying to kick the boy's legs from under him. But he was still giving as good as he was getting. We were in a residential street and I knew someone would soon be calling the police. I had to end the fight quickly. I ran to a doorstep and picked up two empty milk bottles, then ran back and smashed one of them over the boy's head. He released his grip on Cyril and clutched his head. I smashed the other bottle over his head and he fell to the floor. I started to kick him, but he was a hard little bastard and managed to struggle to his feet and fight back. One of the terraced houses near us had been converted into a shop: its front door was one complete pane of glass. As we grappled I turned the boy so his back was towards the glass door and then with all my strength I charged him into it. With a loud crash he went straight through and lay sprawled on the