EXTRACT FROM “CUTTING THE BARS – VOLUME 2”

THE TALL MAN

I was one of the shortest prison officers in stature when I joined the New South Wales Department of Corrective Services in May 1971, standing at only five foot eight and a half inches, as people were measured back during that time.   I was only in the job a few weeks when I first saw Robert (Bob) Dyson.   I remember thinking to myself, ‘he has to be the tallest man in the world’.

Mr Dyson looked impressive in his uniform.  He was a First Class Prison Officer wearing two stripes on the right sleeve of his dark navy blue, almost black tunic.   He stood so straight I was mesmerised, and I did not dare speak to him because he was a First Class Prison Officer and I was just a lowly “baggy arse”, the ink hadn’t dried on my papers yet as I was often reminded in those early days.

Mr Dyson was born in 1940 at Marrickville in Sydney NSW, just one year into the Second World War.   My Dad, Leonard Egge, was brought up in the suburb of Enmore being in the same area of Marrickville.   Mr Dyson, like most prison officers of that time, had a public school education and left school very close to his fifteenth birthday.   Luck was on his side when he gained an apprenticeship with the Maritime Service Board and became a qualified carpenter and joiner.   He was also a member of the Civilian Military Force (CMF), and served in the 14th Field R.A.A. 2nd Division Provost Corp.

He became a Probationary Prison Officer on 4th February 1966 and graduated in February 1967.  In those days it was just two weeks training under the guidance of senior prison officer Lou Boyd, after which was a case of, “here are your keys, now do your best”.


“Dougal” and 10 Post Tom
On his first set of “B” watches Mr Dyson’s night senior was Senior Prison Officer Clyde Piggott, a man of considerable experience.  There was an old mongrel dog that wondered around the Long Bay prison complex named “Dougal”.  There was nothing special about him, just an old dog that was left to his own devices.   Dougal had free run of the gaol and would come and go as he pleased, in and out of gates and doorways, many of which needed to be opened for him by prison officers.  I imagine he was fed, loved and tolerated by everybody, officers and crims alike.

There were also a large number of cats roaming around especially at night hunting the giant rats that inhabited the drainage system of the prison complex, often said to be as big as a German Sheppard dog.  One old cat was appropriately named “10 post Tom”.  Unbeknown to Mr Dyson, old Dougal was lying behind him when 10 post Tom decided to go for a walk at 0200 hours in the morning.   Without warning and in the still of the night, Dougal leapt to his feet and started to bark.  Mr Dyson, not being used to the prison environment, jumped so high he nearly went over the 30 foot high brick wall.   When his feet finally hit the ground he had to check his underpants to see if he’d had an accident in them.  Only his good wife Liz would know the real answer to that when she did his washing.

RELEASE OF MY NEW BOOK "CUTTING THE BARS - VOLUME 2

I am pleased to announce my new book "Cutting the Bars - Volume 2", is now available through my website, or through Amazon.


There are some great true stories depicting some lighthearted incidents that occurred during my service, as well as some of a more serious nature.   You will also read about a number of Prison Officers who are real characters that I have not written about previously as well as some officer's names you may be familiar with from my previous books, as well as some very dangerous criminals, the likes of which all Prison Officers have to deal with on a daily basis.  


I am sure you will enjoy the photographs and especially the sketches drawn by my good friend and life time mate, Bob Wood.  


I look forward to receiving your feedback via email, should you wish to.


Peter T Egge


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EXTRACT FROM MY BOOK “ITS ALL IN THE FALL”

FREDRICK HAROLD HARBECKE – A COLD KILLER

MADE MY LIST OF HARDEST CRIM

I reported for duty one day whilst working in the hospital and was promptly told my duties had been changed and would remain changed until further notice.

Fred Harbecke had been admitted into the MRP hospital from Grafton intractable section. This simply meant to me Harbecke was one of the top 13 or so prisoners in the state of New South Wales, in other words he was high amongst the worst of the worst. I was to remain with him from 08.00 hours until 17.00 hours every day until he was transferred back to Grafton, meal breaks excluded, at which time I would be relieved by another handpicked officer.


I walked into the observation room in the hospital where Harbecke was locked in and I introduced myself, “My name is Egge, you can call me Mr Egge or Sir I will be here every day until you are moved back to where you came from”. Harbecke replied “Okay Mr Egge” I enquired, “What are you in the hospital for” He replied “I cut my wrist Mr Egge, I just needed a break out of the tracks”.  I looked down at his wrists that were both well bandaged.


Harbecke was a German National who had become a member of the feared French Foreign Legion and as a paratrooper, was a veteran of many campaigns. He had a reputation of being one of a handful of men in the world who could creep up behind a soldier in the desert, slit his throat and crawl away completely unseen.


He came to Australia about 1960.   It wasn’t long before he came under the notice of police and received six years hard labour for cheque fraud. He was a handful for the Prison Department as it was called in the 1960’s right from day one. In 1963 he was caught trying to escape out of his cell when a wedge he had placed in the cell door to prise it open, slipped and his hand was caught.  The pain must have been excruciating yet not a sound came from him. That resulted in his first trip to Grafton.


At Grafton Intractable section Harbecke had met Alan Dillion and James “Jimmy” Thornton. On their release the three men teamed up together and in 1968 shot and killed notorious Kings Cross Madam Helen Paunovic who had turned Police informer.


In addition Harbecke was charged with a second shooting murder that had occurred a few months earlier. Now back in gaol this time sentenced to Penal Servitude for life, he was again caught in the process of trying to escape in December 1968. As could be expected Harbecke was again escorted to Grafton intractable section.


The routine at Grafton Gaol is well documented, it is not a state secret.  On reception the prisoner was belted by four prison officers with rubber batons and everyday following. Legend has it that on this occasion Harbecke had his nose and jaw broken during the reception “biff”. Later in his cell he reset his nose and jaw, yet not a sound was heard during his self manipulation.  He was heard to say “it hurt to eat for a couple of days”.


So there I was in the observation room with this crim who had a reputation larger than life.  I bent down and whispered in his ear so he had to strain to hear what I was saying, “You’re not going to cause me any trouble while you’re here are you Harbecke?  “You won’t like me if you do and I know you know what I mean”.  Harbecke just looked at me with cold eyes that went straight through me and said, “I won’t be any trouble Mr Egge, I just needed a break from being bashed everyday”.

POST TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER

My next book due out before the end of November 2015, “Cutting the bars volume 2” will be dedicated to those Prison Officers who have through no fault of their own, have suffered with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder PTSD, in the past, present and those in the future, across the world.

From my observations, all governments are well aware of PTSD, yet only pay lip service to it. Government and Departmental Officials make broad statements such as, “We have a number of psychologists available to assist officers with PTSD”.

This cannot be said more clearly, it is simply “bull shit”.  Tell me how many psychologists are employed that are completely dedicated to PTSD and have no other assigned duties?   Show me the compulsory programs that apply when an Officer is diagnosed with PTSD?   Show me the realistic budget that applies to the staff and programs?

My unscientific research shows a complete lack of understanding of what is required.  I believe that:

1. Following all major critical incidents, “compulsory” debriefings must take place, being chaired by the team leader and a trained and qualified psychologist must be present and available for advice and observation.
2. All Officers showing any signs of PTSD should be relieved from duty on full pay and placed in the care of a highly trained and dedicated psychologist, (there should be no shame attached to this).
3. The Officer concerned should have full support from the Department and confidence that his/her career is safe and will not be in jeopardy.
4. The Departments must give continual training to all Prison Officers at every level.
5. Positions within the Prison Systems must be identified as to their likely stress levels. ie low, medium or high, in order to enable Officers with PTSD to be placed in a low level stress area on a planned return to work programme, or to relieve Officers who work in high stress areas for organised periods to help prevent PTSS in the first instance.
6. Prison Officers need to be recognised for what they do and for their true worth, and I am not referring to money.
7. Consideration must be given to Prison Officers concerning their daily interaction with the type of criminals and the offences they have committed on society.
8. All Officers in management positions within institutions should be critically assessed for competency and re-trained where necessary.  It seems to me that prison staff have a complete lack of confidence in at least some of the management team within their prison, and in some cases this has been a direct contributor to PTSD. 
9. The practice of retiring or pensioning off Prison Officers diagnosed with PTSD should cease. Generally speaking, these Officers are proud of their contribution to their prospective prison systems and to my mind are entitled to be secure in their employment and looked after when they succumb to PTSD.
10. The Governments must supply ample funding for this to occur.

Peter Egge

My Son's Net TV Show

My son Tim is an Ironman triathlete who has been living in Tasmania for the best part of ten years.

Tim has created a net TV mini series called Chasing The Age Grouper that follows his triathlon training and racing for over a year.

Season One is now out at AgeGrouper.TV  and you can gain instant access to watch all six episodes.

Below are the trailers for the show

LEONARD LAWSON

EXTRACT FROM MY BOOK 

CUTTING THE BARS VOLUME 1

Leonard Lawson was born in 1927.   In 1954 he arranged to take a number of female models into the bush in the Sydney suburb of Terry Hills, on the pretext of a top line photo shoot, my cousin Wendy being one of them.   It would be fair to say that Wendy was my cousin only by way of my father being adopted into the extended family. I was never especially close to Wendy as she was a lot older than me although my family would go to her family’s home on special occasions.   I was only six years of age when the following incident occurred.

Lawson at rifle and knife point, tied all the models up and raped two of the girls while forcing the other terrified girls to watch these horrific proceedings unfold.   To this day I’m not exactly sure where my cousin was placed within these gruesome events. I have never asked and it is probably better that I never do.

Justice appeared to be done when Lawson was sentenced to “Be hung by the neck until dead” for his crime.  However an appeal was lodged by the Labor Party on Lawson’s behalf and the sentence was reduced to a paltry 14 years Hard Labour.

In 1960, after he had served a mere six years imprisonment, he was released on parole.  The story is a long way from finished.  In less than a year following his release on parole, Lawson sought after and raped, strangled and stabbed to death a woman in the most humiliating and brutal manner imaginable.   While the Police were in the process of locating Lawson, he attempted to take school girls and their teacher’s hostage, armed once again with a rifle.  The head mistress, in a gallant attempt to protect her students and teachers, struggled with Lawson during which time the rifle discharged killing an innocent fifteen year old school girl, who went to school that day to learn and gain the knowledge to foster a career in order to create a wonderful, fulfilling life for herself, instead her life was cut short by a man who should have met his maker on the gallows some six or seven years earlier.

For this crime, Lawson received a sentence of Penal Servitude for Life.  In 1972 Lawson was housed at Parramatta Gaol.   While being entertained by a musical group, he attempted to take a female member of the group hostage at knife point. Amazingly the young lady was rescued by a number of his fellow prisoners, but not before receiving a number of sutures to the cuts she had received at the hands of the devil’s disciple Leonard Lawson, he received an additional five years Hard Labour for his trouble.

In 1974 I was working in the temporary intractable section in the Metropolitan Remand Centre at Long Bay, set up for the prisoners who had rioted at Bathurst on the 3rd and 4th February of that year.   One day they brought Lawson in and placed him into one of the yards.   I knew who he was without anyone saying.   As I walked past his yard he called out, “Boss what time is it”?   I turned to him and said, “Lawson don’t you ever ask me for a thing, if you want something ask someone else not me”. Lawson had no idea who I was so he continued, “Why are you like that boss”?   I looked at him and replied, “Do you know Wendy” (also giving her last name)? Lawson nonchalantly answered, “Yes I know her”.  With that I simply walked away. George Sylis was the Chief Prison Officer on duty that day and having observed my blunt response asked me what that conversation was about.    When I told him the circumstances surrounding my connection with Lawson, he had him removed from Long Bay immediately.

Lawson was to remain behind bars for another 50 years before suffering a massive heart attack at the age of 76.   I often wonder how many people have given any thought to those unfortunate young women who died at the hands of Lawson or who have had their lives permanently polluted as a result of this man’s depraved actions.  They have no doubt had to travel through their lives carrying the terrible recollection and anguish of the day they were taken hostage, or worse still raped by this man who had cheated the hangman in 1954.

When will the people who release prisoners such as Leonard Lawson to parole be made accountable for their decisions?   Surely in such cases as this, the safety of the public must be paramount and be crucially considered before the rights of the offender are deliberated meticulously prior to releasing such a barbaric individual such as Lawson.

Ron Woodham by the early 2000’s had become the highest ranking Aboriginal in the New South Wales Public Service history being bestowed the rank of the Commissioner of the New South Wales Department of Corrective Services.  The Governor of Grafton Gaol at the time, now retired John W Heffernan, wrote in his book “The Last Governor”, published by Book Pal, quoted Mr Woodham’s reaction when discussing the death of Lawson.   John Heffernan’s quote, taken directly from his book reads, “I said to Woodham, ‘Looks as if Lenny was pretty right when he said that move was going to kill him.’   “Woodham’s face went a bright crimson and took on a thunderous look as he spun around on his chair to face me.   ‘And do you think I lost any fuckin’ sleep over that!’ he spat.

Although I had lost all respect for Mr Woodham in the mid 1980’s, (you can read my reasoning in my first book “ITS ALL IN THE FALL”), I would find it difficult to argue against his remarks, though my considered position was from a personal perspective and not a professional view.

SAVING SUPERINTENDENT EVANS

EXTRACT FROM MY BOOK “CUTTING THE BARS”

(VOLUME I)

In 1973 Frank “Karate Jack” Hutchen was heading to 9 Wing in the Metropolitan Reception Prison (MRP) at the Long Bay Prison Complex to see the Wing Officer in order to give him the results of the Superintendent’s requests for the prisoners in his Wing.  On his way he noticed the Superintendent Mr Evans and Principal Prison Officer Danny Noonan heading to 7 Wing to see a prisoner named Bryant.  A sixth sense caused Mr Hutchen to enquire of Superintendent Evans. “Would you like me to come with you Sir”?  Mr Evans declined the offer.

Mr Hutchen proceeded on his way to 9 Wing when once again his sixth sense tapped him on the shoulder, a skill that comes only with experience and instinctively Mr Hutchen turned and headed for 7 Wing.   Upon his arrival he could see Mr Noonan standing in the doorway of Bryant’s cell on the top landing, 7 Wing being two stories high.  He quickly made his way to the stairs and along the landing until he reached Bryant’s cell.

Bryant had his hands under a blanket.  This would have rung alarm bells of impending danger to even the most inexperienced Officer.  Mr Evans was already in the cell as Bryant pulled his hand from under the blanket clutching a fluorescent light tube.  Smashing the end of the light tube against the wall, he lashed out at Superintendent Evans’s throat.  Mr Evans instinctively brought his hands up to protect his neck and facial area causing the tube to cut his hands.   Mr Noonan did not move or say a word.

Mr Hutchen pushed passed Mr Noonan and hit Bryant with his shoulder pushing him hard up against the cell wall, at the same time snapping the light tube rendering it less dangerous.  Bryant’s chin ended up on Mr Hutchen’s shoulder.  Bryant forced his face onto Mr Hutchen’s chest and bit through his shirt and into his chest with the force of a wild dog.  Mr Hutchen took control as he took hold of this very violent prisoner.   All Superintendent Evens could say was “Don’t hurt him, don’t hurt him”.

At the bottom of the stairs with Bryant in handcuffs Mr Hutchen looked down at his chest where Bryant had bitten him.  The wound was becoming painful and his shirt was saturated with his own blood.  Once the prisoner had been secured and removed from 7 Wing, having been placed in the OBS in the Central Industrial Prison CIP, Mr Hutchen reported to Doctor Murphy to receive appropriate medical care.  Dr Murphy was already attending Superintendent Evans.  The good doctor looked up at Mr Hutchen and said, “What can I do for you Frank?”  Mr Hutchen smiled and replied “I only need a rabies needle doctor”, implying that he had been bitten by a wild dog.  (Rabies does not exist in Australia).

The prisoner was charged by the Police and received a further two years hard labour for his trouble.

Frank (Karate Jack) Hutchen showing the bite mark on chest, just below left shoulder, inflicted by prisoner Bryant.

Photo provided courtesy of Frank Hutchen

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KENNETH BRAZIER GOVERNOR’S PLEASURE – OBS

EXTRACT FROM MY BOOK “CUTTING THE BARS”

VOLUME I

A Probationary Prison Officer was commonly referred to, or known as a “baggy arse”.  The term came about because the initial uniform issue was straight off the shelf and rarely fitted.  The second and all subsequent uniform issues were tailor made at the New South Wales Government Stores, thus it was only Probationary Prison Officers that were branded “baggy arses”.

The Observation Section (OBS) in the Central Industrial Prison at Long Bay was a very dangerous place in which to work.  Baggy arse Prison Officers were never rostered in the OBS on day work when the prisoners were out of their cells.  They were only rostered in there on “C” watches, (16.00 hours until 23.59 hours), and “B” watches, (23.59 hours until 08.00 hours), at which time the prisoners were locked in their cells, being rotated every two or three hours with other posts within the Gaol.   Whilst in the OBS on “C” or “B” watches, the Officers would patrol all cells every 15 to 20 minutes and were required to keep very accurate notes of their patrols and all occurrences were to be noted in the log book.   They did not have or carry any cell keys.

The 25 cells were all one out, (one prisoner to a cell).   The lights were left on permanently 24/7, a steel bed was bolted to the floor with just a mattress, a pillow and two blankets on the bed, there were no sheets or other furniture permitted in the cell, with a rubber “shit tub” and a plastic water jug being the only other items in the cells.

One night a young baggy arse was patrolling the cells when he came to Kenneth Brazier’s cell.  Brazier was sentenced to Governor’s Pleasure (GP).  Governor’s Pleasure was an insidious sentence, in general terms it was normally reserved for prisoners with severe psychiatric conditions, who had committed murder.  Governor’s Pleasure was an indeterminate sentence. Brazier was considered suicidal when he was placed in the OBS.   He was unshaven and unkempt and was somewhat irrational in his speech.

The young baggy arse looked at Brazier in horror as Brazier started to cut his eye lids with a razor blade.  The Officer with only six weeks service behind him remained calm and in control when he said to Brazier, “What are you doing Brazier”?   Brazier replied, “I’m cutting my eyes out boss”.  Without hesitation and clearly thinking on his feet, this very inexperienced Officer said, “That razor blade is no good, it’s all rusty, slide it under the door and I’ll give you a new one”.   With that said, Brazier promptly slid the razor blade under the door.   As he stood waiting for his new razor blade, the Night Senior was called and Brazier was given appropriate medical assistance.

When facing any critical situation it was always crucial to have something rational to say and do to allay the gravity of whatever the circumstances may be, and generally speaking, if this is carried out with a cool conviction, the outcome will be lessened to a greater degree, or better still resolved.

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EXTRACT FROM MY BOOK IT’S ALL IN THE FALL

PETER SCHNEIDAS – A PATHETIC COWARDLY WOULD BE. 

If you were to take a baking dish and generously grease it with animal fat, take two slices of shit house rat, add a cup of dim wit, a sprinkle of fox cunning, a pinch of treachery, the heart of a baby pea and add a large cup of cowardice, ensure you leave out common sense, ethics, decency, law abiding principals and honour, bake for nine months at 36 degrees Celsius you will end up with a Peter Schneidas.

I have heard many “outsiders” refer to Schneidas as the most hated crim by Prison Officers. This is not true.  Professional Prison Officers do not hate any prisoner.  They do the job because they have too much respect and love for those people who are law abiding and never see the inside of the walls.  Prison Officers want to protect these people from those who cannot, and will not conform to society’s laws.

Peter Schneidas was born in August 1957 making him nine years younger than me. I was told that as a young boy he had committed a number of minor offences and ended up continually going through the revolving door of the prison system. Firstly at Tamworth Institution for Boys and progressed to adult institutions.

Somewhere along the line he ended up at Katingal however I have no idea why. From Katingal he was housed in 13 wing where I was on “D” watch. When I arrived for duty Schneidas was already housed on the middle landing.

At 16.00 hours the prisoners had been mustered and locked in the wing however they were able to roam around on their own landing until 20.30 hours.  At about 16.30 hours Schneidas had a confrontation with a young baggy arse Prison Officer on the middle landing. The Officer phoned me and asked me to come up and lock the prisoner up.

When I arrived on the middle landing Schneidas was surrounded by a dozen or so other crims. I said to Schneidas, “Go to your cell Schneidas, you’re locked up.”   Schneidas bluntly replied, “Get fucked Egge I’m not going”. I could tell by his extreme body language he was ready to fight and so were most of his disciples.  I simply said to the officer on the landing, “Go and sit in your office and don’t come out of it”.

I walked back downstairs knowing there were only three officers in the wing, one on each landing and150 maximum security prisoners running around loose, discretion being the better part of valour. I returned to my office, closed the door and phoned the superintendent George Brown. I said “Mr Brown I’ve just had a confrontation with prisoner Peter Schneidas who refused to be locked up by the young Officer on the landing and when I went up to lock him up he told me to ‘get fucked’ and had surrounded himself with a dozen other crims who were ready to fight”. Mr Brown said “what do you want me to do Mr Egge?”  I said, “Remove him back to Katingal, if he’s not moved you won’t have any Officers working in your gaol”.

Five minutes later Mr Brown phoned me back and said “It will take 20 minutes Mr Egge will that be alright” I said “Thank you sir that will be fine”. I was very concerned that I may have over stepped my mark.  I had great respect for Mr Brown and I had never spoken to him that way before.

Schneidas and his boys were looking very pleased with themselves and were running around the landing as if they owned it.  I’m sure the Officer on the landing thought I had lost my heart too.  20 minutes on the dot, the wing door opened and in came three of the biggest SOD Squad Officers that I had ever seen, led by the ex Grafton Officer, commonly referred to as the white Alsatian, along with some MEU Officers, the Night Senior and Mr Brown.

Without saying a word we all walked straight up the stairs to Schneidas, surprise is invaluable.  All his so called army deserted him without hesitation. Schneidas was instructed by the SOD Officers to collect his gear he was moving, to which Schneidas enquired “where to?” The officer said “Katingal”.  I laughed when Schneidas said “Could I have a shit first please?” The Officers stripped searched him and removed Schneidas out of my life for a while.

Following the closure of Katingal which was a recommendation of the Royal Commission into Prisons, a few years after the above incident had taken place, an unarmed First Class Prison Officer John Mewburn, a mild mannered man, quietly spoken and a very decent all round human being, was the victim of a cold, calculated, callous and cowardly attack from behind by Schneidas with a claw hammer, inflicting such severe injuries as to cost him his life.  May our Lord bless his soul and surviving family.

Cutting The Bars

My new book, Cutting The Bars is now out on Amazon and through my website.

To find out more - Click Here

FASCINATING EMAILS

I love to receive emails from the people who read my book and I have received such a lot of positive feedback and encouragement.   One such email was from a lovely lady called Alison who told me her father was a Fireman and she compared my work ethic and sense of humour to that of her fathers, and made it clear it was not due to the positions of a Fireman or a Prison Officer, it was the similarities in our dispositions.   To me, I could not receive a higher accolade to be compared to this lovely lady’s greatly respected and much loved father who is now deceased.

My new book will be coming out in three separate volumes.   It is titled “Cutting the Bars” and the first volume will be due out this coming Tuesday 10th September 2015.

I hope you all enjoy it and please do not hesitate to provide me with feedback.   I love to receive emails: petertegge@gmail.com

Peter Egge

** Please subscribe to my email list and be notified every time I post a new blog**

WOW

Wow!   I've become overwhelmed by the response to my book "It's all in the Fall". It is a wonderful experience to receive emails from long, lost workmates.   Today I received one from Bob Dyson, who retired in 1984 as an Assistant Superintendent.   Bob was a great man working in the Prison system, who taught me a lot.   We became great friends and had visited each other at our homes.   He was also the first person that I knew who owned a coloured television set.

Also today I received an email from Paul Lefoe, who retired as a Superintendent. I have written about Paul Lefoe in Volume One of my next book "Cutting the Bars" which I am planning on releasing within the next two weeks.   The story of Paul begins with a quote from General George S. Patton, The great things a man does, appear to be great, only after they are done.   When they're at hand, they are normal decisions and are done without knowledge of their greatness."   Paul was an outstanding Officer and a razor in battle.  

Paul was also a very good and loyal friend whose company and friendship was always valued by Margaret and myself.   I am sure everyone will enjoy reading about his exploits shortly.

Peter T. Egge
peter@peteregge.com

EXTRACT FROM THE BOOK “IT’S ALL IN THE FALL"

SENIOR PRISON OFFICER GEORGE MORRIS – A TRUE LEADER     

George Morris was a Senior Prison Officer who was a real rough diamond in the true meaning of the term.  He was English and very rough around the edges. This man was never going to be the Commissioner of Corrective Services.  Although he really knew his job, the Department could have done with a few more good men like him.

One night on the “C” watch in the CIP, Mr Morris and I entered a cell on the top landing of 4 wing so as to allow the “C” watch nurse to give the prisoner in that cell an injection.

When the sister gave the injection to the prisoner his heart stopped instantly. The sister stepped back and just stood there looking at the prisoner.  She went very pale in the face. I have no idea if she gave him the wrong injection or if the prisoner was allergic to whatever the injection was.

Without hesitation, Mr Morris immediately started to give the prisoner heart compressions.  He looked at me and instructed me to take over.  I said “I don’t know how, I haven’t been trained to do it”. He bellowed back “Just do what I’m doing”. So I did!  I asked him, “Is this right” and he quickly replied “Yes, just keep doing that I’ll be back in a moment”. With that Mr Morris left the cell with the night sister. I was left in the cell on my own giving compressions to a dead man.

It only seemed like a few seconds and Mr Morris appeared at the cell door with a stretcher and four prison officers. He instructed me to keep doing compressions and for the other officers to lift the prisoner onto the stretcher.  As the prisoner landed on the stretcher we hurried out the cell door and down the stairs.  Mr Morris kept reassuring me I was doing well with my compressions.

We took the prisoner straight out the front gate and ran up the road with the prisoner still on the stretcher and me giving compressions as we went. All of the normal protocols and procedures were dispensed with for transferring a prisoner from one gaol to another.

As we arrived at the MRP gate the officers were waiting for us and one half of the main gate flew open. We went straight through the second gate turned right and headed for the prison hospital.

The prisoner was carried into ward one where a doctor and two nursing sisters were waiting for us. The doctor instructed me to keep doing compressions, a nurse put an oxygen mask on the prisoner and the doctor gave him an injection.  With that the prisoner opened his eyes and started to breathe again.

It was Mr Morris’s ability to remain calm and in control in that situation, along with his understanding that there were occasions within the strict prison discipline, where it was necessary to throw the rule book out.  Most of all it was his organisational skills that ultimately saved that young prisoner’s life.  Mr Morris should have received a special commendation for his actions that day.

Peter T. Egge

Brien “Inky” Eastwell

The Gaol grapevine is well known within the prison system. I would sometimes start a rumour in the morning simply for my own amusement, I could almost guarantee I would be told the same rumour back before the lunch break.

Brien “Inky” Eastwell had heard on the grapevine that I was visiting Frank and Rose Hutchen Last Wednesday. Frank and Rose were showing Bob Wood and me around their beautiful back garden when Inky turned up to say hullo, he was now in his early eighties and looked very spritely all considered.

I had trained Inky sometime in the late seventies he told me I had given him some good advice along the way which I was pleased to hear. Before becoming a Prison Officer Inky was a trade’s person a panel beater, in Inky’s case to call him a tradesman is not fair, he was a Craftsman and only worked on high end vehicles.

Inky told me he was rubbing the panel on a Rolls Royce when he said to himself “I can’t do this for the rest of my life” and promptly joined the NSW Department of Corrective Services. He contently lingered at the bottom of the food chain at prison officer level and later as an overseer, equivalent to First Class Prison Officer only he was on the industries side until he retired. I was thrilled he had thought enough of me to take the trouble and time to visit me, and I thoroughly enjoyed chatting to him.

Peter T Egge

Karate Jack

Last Wednesday the 15th July 2015 my longest and best friend Robert (Bob) Wood and I visited my old friend and mentor Frank “Karate Jack” Hutchen and his lovely wife Rose.  I had not seen them for about 15 years although we talk regular on the phone.  Frank and Rose are now in their eighties. I suppose you could say I’m a mere boy by comparison at 67 years old.

It was simply a wonderful experience to catch up and reminisce while having a superb lunch laid on by Rose. Following lunch we got down to business.  I wanted Frank to tell me real war stories that he was involved in during the period of the 1970s.   Frank retired in 1980 on medical grounds

I recorded his stories on my iphone and wrote notes as Frank worked his way through some of the most horrific prison drama never told before.  His jaw dropping tails would take us all through many emotions often making us laugh and on occasion causing us to have a tear in our eye.

You can read these very true stories told in typical Frank Hutchen style in my next book “Cutting the Bars” released within the next two months.

Meanwhile I hope you enjoy reading about Frank “Karate Jack” Hutchen in my current book, “It’s All In The Fall”.   This larger than life man earned the respect of every Prison Officer that ever worked at Long Bay Gaol during his illustrious career, 1958 to 1980.

Peter T Egge

Jack Nelson

My book was only released a few hours when, Tim Walter, a life time friend of my youngest son, posted its release on his Facebook page.   Almost immediately the son of my old workmate Jack Nelson posted that his father had worked at Long Bay about the same time.

As I understand it, Jack died in the Officers Cafeteria of a massive heart attack and his son was only two at the time.   Jack Nelson was a great bloke.   He was one of those good, reliable officers we could always depend on.

I have just spoken to Frank “Karate Jack” Hutchen on the phone, (now in his eighties), about Jack and we both agreed he was always reliable, diligent in his duties and well respected by all the staff at Long Bay.

We miss you Jack Nelson.   May god bless your soul and protect your son and family.

I will write more about Jack Nelson in my next book “Cutting the Bars” which I will release later in the year.  You can find Jack Nelson on page 118.   I was deeply touched by the few words that Jack’s son wrote on face book.

There are many names of Officers in my book.   Please feel free to contact me by email peter@peteregge.com

Peter Egge