My name is Frankie Fraser
I'm known as "Mad" Frankie Fraser because I've been certified insane three times, only because I acted mad, to have it a bit easier
I was born December 13,1923 in Waterloo, where the Royal Festival Hall is now, it was all docks then
My father was Canadian, my mother was Irish and they were two lovely hard-working people...
Why did I get into crime?
It was me, no excuses for me, I must have been born to it, simple as that
And the upset it caused my mother and father, me going to prison, the shame with all the neighbours, that's one of the biggest regrets I've ever had
I've served 42 years in prison
They had many forms of punishment if you broke the prison rules,
Solitary confinement, loss of remission, bread and water,
The cat of nine tails and the birch
I experienced every one of these,
And I would say I've definitely done more bread and water than any other man alive.
They abolished bread and water on the first of June,1974,
The cat of nine tails means exactly what it was,
You personally never see it and you'd never see the guy who gave it to you.
Actually, what it was, 7 lumps of leather joined to the main Part,
You were put up onto a tripod, your head went through a noose, and before he gives it to you,
He twirled it round and round as a rule and you'd hear it whistling right across your back
And this went on in my case till you had your eighteen strokes,
When you waited for your corporal punishment, you waited up to fourteen days after you were sentenced
And they played mind games with you
You always had it after breakfast or after dinner when all the prison was locked up
And always as a rule in the prison laundry where it had a very high roof where they could put the machine up,
And that was the same with the birch and all,
A bunch of twigs except with the birch, you went over a barrel where your wrists were handcuffed to your
Ankles and your bare bum stood up.
Out of the two, I thought the birch was worse than the cat
In 1947, I had cut my wrists to pieces,
70 stitches and they put me in a straight jacket.
Straight jackets then came in three sizes: small, medium and large
I'm very small, I should have got a small one,
But they put me in a big one, the biggest and at the back of it, they put all wet blankets,
The hospital at Pentonville prison had been bombed in the war and still hadn't been repaired
And they were using B2 landing, converted it into a hospital, they had no padded-cell,
They just put mattresses on the floor, and that’s where they left you and I'd have to turn over and lay on my stomach,
In the meantime, being fit and young I did like an idiot, get up and sometimes try and walk,
This way, I snapped all the stitches in my wrist, and all blood was oozing out,
Smothered in blood, and as I was lying there, face down, as I've had to turn over on my back to relieve the pain,
I heard the flap of the door and the prison governor shout out, "he's still alive", won't be long now, soon be dead.
That saved my life, cause that made me determined to survive till seven in the morning, when fresh prison officers come in
And they had to put me on the chair, take me out of the straight jacket and give me a glass of water,
All night he kept coming, still alive, and I survived, his name was Laughton, I'll never forget it.
The prison authorities couldn't care less
No television them days, no radio stations, no media, who cared
But luckily for me I survived, never forgot it and attacked the governor afterwards and tried to hang him
The worst prison in my opinion, especially for a Londoner with a bad record, was Durham
It was called the last outpost when I arrived there from Wardsworth They really beat me up, stitches in my head, black and blue all over
One of the worst beatings I should think I'd ever had in prison and later on, they sent me to Broadmoor(criminal insane prison)
Even though at that stage, I wasn't acting mad or anything, it was just to get me out of the system.
Today is better than it was thirty odd years ago, but the difference today in that respect
Is that people on the outside are much more likely to take an interest in what goes on in prison
I came out of prison in 1989 and I'm happy to say, I've been out all these years the longest I've ever been out of prison
On the other hand though, I wouldn't change the past, that is what I done, I ain't grumbling about it,
Like it or leave it, that was me, mad Frankie Fraser.
http://pilsedu.cz/~x-only/11_Mad_Frankie_Fraser.mp3