In the beginning there was kind of bemused bitterness about the whole affair and we all honestly believed that after a month or two and it would be over. Well, we crossed our fingers and hoped it would; a couple of months was about as far in the future as we dared look. The divided ballot results had exposed divisions in the community. The radical elements postured loud and long about the power of the unions and the female Fachist Mrs Thatcher with her evil sidekicks, while the moderates kept their heads down, muttering disconsolately into a pint of best bitter that it would all end in tears and family comes first. Unlike most miners wives I had a job, but still, the loss of my husband’s wage packet scared me. I was an accounts clerk earning around £100 per week, I understood money and I understood the consequences of not having it. I was with the moderates; I could not really understand how anyone could take such a masochistic stance, even disregarding my view that it was a pointless exercise.
The 1984 Miners Strike
