79 Beagles Liberated - 5th November 1999 - Part 2: Back Then

Camp Beagle has received an anonymous account detailing how these beagles were liberated on 5th November 1999.

Part 2: Back Then

On the evening of the liberation, about 25 of us met at a country park near Huntingdon. Only a few of us knew the full plan; most only knew the basic outline. These activists had experience of carrying out liberations; they knew each other well, and they trusted each other.

This was 1999, and although there was no social media, there was a very effective network system. Throughout the 90s, there were many direct action activities across the UK to liberate animals from exploitation and death. These actions were organised by people meeting face to face. National demos were often used as meeting points to catch up with activists from other areas and pass on key information about upcoming plans and meeting points. Meeting face to face to organise non-violent direct actions helped to build a strong level of trust between activists, and in my view, this is something social media has failed to recreate. Direct personal contact also helped to create strong bonds with colleagues and to get to know each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Having said all of this, this raid would propel us into the new age of technology because mobile phones were just beginning to take off and these, in fact, became a central part of how the raid was executed. We didn’t even know anyone who had a mobile phone, but we bought a few specially for the liberation.

The nights before the raid, we visited the site to ensure the dogs made lots and lots of noise throughout the night to get the guards accustomed to the dogs making a right racket, by the simple method of throwing stones onto the roofs of the sheds. Each stone thrown would keep the dogs barking for about 20 minutes, and when the noise died down, we chucked another one. A crucial element of the planning was choosing Bonfire Night—when loud bangs, crashes, and dog barking would be expected by the guards.

Back at the country park where we had all gathered, the full plan was disclosed and explained so everyone knew their role that night. From early evening onwards, look-outs had been positioned to monitor the site to make sure everything was ‘normal’, with everyone in touch via their new devices—the mobile phones.

Once the call came through from the on-site look-outs that all was looking good, the ‘GO, GO, GO’ alert was given. The activists were dropped off up the road, and then the car drivers drove off to different locations to await the call to come back to pick us up. The security guards patrolled the site every two hours on the clock, so we waited for them to do their rounds and get back into their cosy office—all under the watchful binoculars of the look-out, who had a view straight into their office.

Being a ‘look-out’ may seem a minor role, but it is a critically important one, as it requires a steady, calm, balanced attitude to call the alarm when it matters, but not to panic over nothing. If the guard went out to stretch their legs, the message should be ‘guard is outside but everything is OK’.

With the all-clear call, it was all hands on deck. Those of us who knew the terrain guided the others through the fields to the back of the site. We carried all the tools and equipment we required to get inside and started to build the bridge that would lead us into the site without touching the motion-sensing fence. The dogs started to bark, but we were confident the guards had got used to the noise by now, and after all, this was noisy Bonfire Night. Next was getting in and taking the puppies out.