They roamed the trains and stations, searching, like a pack of hungry wolves during a long winter. Gangs of youth with no destination, no clear set plan. There was no particular place they had to be. Their search was not a necessity for survival, just something to do. Through boredom and misdirection they hunted for new areas to destroy.

Eluding authority and defacing property with their writing and colours was an adrenaline rush for these youths. "There's nothing else to do" they would be heard to say. "Everyone knows that, when you're in the northern suburbs." They look pride in their ability to escape. Each time they marked an area with their graffiti or violence they left their "tag." It is a sign of defiance, a sign which dares the authorities to attempt to catch them. After all, what would be the fun if there was no one to provoke. The Masters and their Apprentices or occasionally Graffs, that's how these youths prefer to be known. When any of them reaches the age of eighteen, he is no longer known as an Apprentice. The gangs are organised is such a way that the older members are reputed to be involved merely in planning and directing. That way the authorities can only accuse the younger members of a criminal offense if the group are ever caught. When a Master is besieged with an urge to graffiti, it is accepted amongst the gang that he go it alone.

Once on a return trip from nowhere in particular, there were Police waiting for them at Salisbury railway station. As they vandalised and painted on the rail carriage, someone had informed the authorities. They had over-stepped the boundaries and had forgotten to get away. It was a waste of time trying to escape now They knew it didn't really matter anyway, they always had the last laugh.

In the dark and oppressive courtroom the judge was informed of the youths' ages. It was also made clear that they were not actually from the northern areas. The old judge felt an unexplained sense of compassion. Perhaps it was because he though he knew the father of one of the boys. He patiently listened to the explanation given as to why they boys were on that particular train that night and before I was finished he decided to give them another chance. He knew that if these boys had come from the 'wrong' side of town, then they would probably be guilty. Everyone known the northern side of town is rife with poverty, unemployment and gangs. Wearily the judge left the courtroom, looking forward to sitting in front of his open log fire and listening to the radio. He was shaking his head as he thought about television and what sort of other new technology they would come up with next. Perhaps he was old fashioned he thought, but surely change was not always for the better. Those young fellows were from good homes and he knew they were above the crimes they had been accused of. Just lads out for a bit of a wag.

The Masters were waiting outside the courthouse. The Apprentices related the outcome which was no surprise to any of them. They had all been before the old Judge and knew he came from the Dark Ages. As the police drove away the gang collapsed in laughter. In bold black graffiti across the back of their car were the words:
"SUCKED IN AGAIN" - M & A

Sandy Bollenhagen