The tiny wee village caught in the eye of a very big storm

Published on Saturday 27 January 2007 00:38

THE village of Garelochhead sits at the centre of a giant red bull's-eye.

During the Cold War the local school, the stone gable of the kirk and the pub bar stools could have been annihilated in a few minutes by missiles from Soviet silos, permanently targeted on this small corner of Scotland.

The collapse of the Soviet Union and the thaw in the Cold War has not removed the bull's-eye, just changed those who have taken aim. The residents of Garelochhead no longer fear the Soviets, but the Scots.

The rising swell of support for the scrapping of Trident's replacement would herald the closure of the Faslane nuclear submarine base and turn Garelochhead, a few hundred yards from the main gate, into a "ghost town", says one patron of the local pub.

You will find little support for the SNP's plan to put a 1 million tax on each missile carried in convoy into the base and, instead, a growing anger that the rest of Scotland is unaware of the importance of what has long been a nuclear pariah, though it employs, including Coulport, 7,000 people and pumps 200 million each year into the local economy.

The debate over the government's plans to renew its nuclear capability has coincided with a year-long protest by anti-nuclear campaigners to push Faslane base and, by proximity, Garelochhead back into public consciousness.

Tracey McCulloch is dressed in chef's whites and is standing in the bar of the Anchor Inn, taking a break before the lunch-time rush, when between 30 and 50 meals will be served to employees at the base. Her husband is in the navy, currently based in Portsmouth, and she admits to being biased and glad that one day Faslane will be his home port.

"I once stood for the SNP, but now I think their ideas are unreal. We need the protection offered by Trident and we do not know what the future holds."

It is the present that annoys many of the villagers. The pressure group Faslane 365 is attempting to blockade the base each day for a full year. Yesterday, the protesters were doctors from across Britain. Yet the road by the base runs into the village and delays are becoming common, as is the sight of vans of Strathclyde Police snoozing as they wait, bored, for the next protest.

The police bill for October and November was 2.7 million and is expected to top 16 million by next October, a matter of grave concern to local councillor George Freeman, who maintains that out of 400 arrests, just four people have been charged.

Outside the primary school stands Katie Chapman, who has just collected her son, Cameron, three, from nursery. "Some mornings the kids have to wait in assembly as their teachers haven't been able to get through," she says.

Anne Marie Slee says her son, Andrew, 14, has been delayed by as much as an hour in reaching Hermitage Secondary school in Helensburgh.

"It does make you angry. It's not their kids' education that is suffering," says Ms Slee, who is also annoyed that so many police officers are tied down on a daily basis. "It's ridiculous - they are all sitting in the vans, but try finding one after 5pm."

The people of Garelochhead have a historical reputation of abiding by the law. In 1853, Sir James Colquhoun of Luss fought a pitched battle against a boatload of visitors who were breaking the Sabbath.

To reach the peace camp, visitors follow the chain-link fence that surrounds the vast base, topped with rings of razor wire. A dozen or so caravans, huts and a long-converted coach comprise the permanent vigil, which is daubed with slogans such as: "Nuclear non merci!" and "Nae Mare Pish".

Angie Zelter, a founder of Faslane 365, says she understands the villagers' feelings, but believes the police could prevent delays by halting traffic going into the base. The group has already met Hermitage's headmaster, who will advise local groups of exam dates.

"We've offered to arrange talks by many of the people, doctors and academics, who are taking part, but no-one has taken us up," she said.