Seeing that photo of the BM banner reminded me of a mad night in Edinburgh in the mid-1990's when we (Glasgow AFA) were contacted by Edinburgh AFA about a planned BM meeting that they'd been tipped off about. It appeared at the time that this was a move by some of the more militant Nazis to re-organise themselves because of the battering that we were giving the BNP on the streets. This meeting was ostensibly about re-establishing a BM presence in Scotland, but the reality was that AFA was the real reason behind the meeting, so AFA decided to gatecrash it.
The plan was that we'd allow a fair number of them to gather at the venue and we'd storm it with a strong Scottish AFA mob and beat the fuck out of them, hopefully inflicting such painful memories for them that no-one would ever dare mention the name of the BM in Scotland again.
Well, that was the plan, and it kinda worked, but there were complications that turned the night into both a battle and a bit of a farce.
The meeting place organised by Edinburgh AFA was the main arty farty 'world cinema' venue in Edinburgh, which was directly opposite the pub where the fash were meeting. Not only did our lot stick out like sore thumbs in such a place, but the drink was fcuking expensive and there was a lot of time to be killed before the required numbers of fash would appear. We deployed some of our lot in a pub around the corner, but the main body of AFA stayed in the cinema bar.
We had arrived with a vanload of Celtic casuals and 3 cars filled with other Glasgow AFA activists... The Celtic lads had expected to just jump out of the van and straight into a fight, so they'd obviously stocked up on their 'carry out' for the one hour journey to Edinburgh. By the time they got there, they were already 'happy' and in the mood for a barney. I had to spend a bit of time convincing them that there was no point storming the venue at that moment cos it was almost empty apart from a couple of fash and a 'kissing couple' who were AFA members placed in the pub and who would give us the signal when the time was right for the attack.
We had arrived early and the AFA members from Glasgow and Edinburgh generally knew the script, go easy on the beers (preferably don't drink any alcohol at all) and remain disciplined so as not to attract any unwanted attention from the police or the nice middle class people in the Cinema's bar, where we had gathered.
After about an hour of waiting, the Celtic lads started getting itchy feet, complaining about the price of beer in the posh bar. Some wandered off in search of an off-license to buy some cans, whilst others just started to wander up and down the road outside, which wasn't part of the plan. The Celtic bhoys on the street saw a group of about 8 fash enter the venue, which was more than enough in their opinion and, as we watched from the bar across the road, we suddenly saw a group of CSC (Celtic Soccer Crew) attempt to storm the pub without the rest of us. There was a fight at the door before the lads broke through. One of the senior Edinburgh AFA members asks me, what the fuck are they doing? I replied that it was fucking madness but that we'd have to do it now because the original plan had just been completely fucked up by the drunken over-enthusiasm of the casuals.
Anyway, we all make a bee-line for the venue from which the fash had started fleeing in terror from the Celtic casuals who'd broken into their gathering. This meant that we were able to pick a few off as they came out of the door of the pub. At one point I think there were two or three fash running a gauntlet of about 30 AFA and just being kicked and punched all over the place. Others had been battered inside the pub and got battered again as they tried to escape into the street.
In a comedy moment, Big Al, one of the Glasgow AFA members, knowing the numbers to be overkill, is still standing watching events from the other side of the road, when he signals to me and starts pointing at a telephone box and smiling. I looked over and there's a big bonehead, who had obviously been on his way to the meeting, inside the telephone box either making a phonecall for reinforcements, or pretending to make one in the hope that he will be rendered invisible to us. I just happened to have in my pocket some of the strongest CS gas spray that we'd ever got hold of, so I sauntered over to the phone box and Big Al politely opens the door for me. At this point the bonehead snarls something about 'trying to make a call', which was answered with a full spray of CS gas in eyes, nose and throat. He just collapsed in a heap and was stamped on by me and Big Al. Then we shut the door of the phone box and left him there, curled up in the foetal position.
Meanwhile, another mad situation had developed between one of the Celtic boys and a member of Edinburgh AFA. This was the fella who'd been our 'eyes and ears' inside the pub, along with a young woman AFA member. When it kicked off inside the pub, the Celtic lads had basically attacked everyone in there, believing them to be part of the BM group. The young Edinburgh AFA lad was also a Hibs Casual and when a couple of the Celtic boys had gone for him, he'd produced a cosh and given one of them it over the head, before explaining to him that he was also with AFA. The Celtic lad, being slightly concussed, bleeding and drunk, was furious and kept trying to take revenge on the Hibs lad, slabbering about how "we can't trust these Hibs bastards!" Eventually that situation was defused, but it took a while to calm things down. It was our 'friendly fire' moment.
On the whole it was a victory; the BM had tried to meet and organise themselves into a fighting unit to take on AFA, we'd nipped them in the bud and we never heard of the BM trying to organise themselves in Scotland again after that night, but fuck me we didn't half make it hard for ourselves.