| This is a true story about working for the Mother. A testimony to
women's spirit and an indicator of things to come.
5/3/85
Dear Everybody,
Greetings from Salisbury Plain Women's Peace Camp, established on the
edge of the artillery field. As I write this this morning, I hear the
rumbling of the artillery in the distance like a slow bass drum.
Yesterday was a thoroughly satisfying day. We got up in the morning and
had a meeting, and it was quite beautiful to see how consensus could
work, with no formal process, just everyone talking until the sense of
the group came clear. I had expected we would divide into two groups--
one to cross the artillery range and one to walk legally around the edge
of the field, but as we were discussing that--wait. Let me describe how
it was put out. Mary, who is organizing this action and more or less
leading it (of course no one would admit that), would put forth a plan
and then say, "That's only a suggestion--let's hear other suggestions."
So someone said she thought the whole idea was to reclaim Salisbury
Plain by walking over the Military Land, and why didn't we all go and do
that? All that was stopping us was their red flag (and about 50
policeman). (The red flag is put up to warn the public to stay off the
road that crosses the base because they will be firing across the road
that day.) And we talked on for a bit and the general feeling was that
we wanted to go in a large group straight through the barrier and down
the central road (which had the advantage of being the only route
through the field that is clear of unexploded shells). And that
decision felt very strong and centered--so of course I decided to go.
(We thought it unlikely that they would actually shell us with
artillery, in spite of the red flag.
Then we broke up, took some time to pack up and prepare. Some women
gathered at the gate to the artillery field and began chanting, and the
police began gathering and little knots of us stood around talking
saying, "This is impossible--we'll never get through" and trying to
figure out other tactics.
Then we had another meeting, which got bogged down in a discussion of
tactics, and we finally sort of agreed on doing what we'd originally
planned, even if we did all get arrested.--and I said, "maybe we need to
do something here and now to center" so I lead a short grounding and the
suggested we make sounds. The chant started off very low and I almost
thought it'd wouldn't happen--and then I did something I hadn't ever
quite done before--I built an energy shell for the power to fill--and
the power started to rise--and then it took off, and I felt the spirits
of the plain rise and they were angry at the military and the
desecration of the plain, and they were with us. Then we grounded the
power and everyone spontaneously headed up for the gate and began
making rhythm and dancing in snake lines and then the lines ducked
through the barbed wire at the side, went around the clumps of police,
and we were out onto the field.
The police ran out to stop us and we stayed in snakes, holding hands,
and our lines were pushing against theirs. The police linked arms and
tried to contain us but of course we could always get around the ends of
their lines. At one point a circle of police surrounded a circle of
us--with a baby in the center. I thought we were trapped and then
someone broke through and I heard a policeman say "It's impossible!" and
I knew we had won.
We headed down the road and some women had been arrested so we all sat
down, and then a policeman came to talk to us, and everyone was singing
and shouting to drown him out and he was saying that in five minutes
they'd have a clearance for us to walk down the road. So they escorted
the rest of us--about eighty women, five to ten babies and small
children, and two dogs--all the way down the road across Salisbury
Plain.
We had a lovely six-mile walk, and the Plain was beautiful--broad and
open, unfenced grassland sweeping the low swells, marred only by a few
tanks and gun emplacements and bomb craters. The sun was hot and the
sky blue and gorgeous, and I had wonderful conversations with women.
Then we arrived on the other side of the field and camped in the woods
owned by the Ministry of Defense. Camp was set up, the firepits dug,
wood gathered, suppers cooked around campfires, and then women sang and
played guitars into the night.
Now today's meetings begins.
From Starhawk's _Truth_Or_Dare_, pages 248,249.
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