The day started with an early meeting at Leicester bus station, and I wasn’t alone. Along they came with their banners in hands and megaphones around their necks. What struck me was the vast diversity of the protesters; I had always assumed this was a thing that only students did, but there I was, stood next to two old ladies with “Bush and Blair Terrorists” stickers across their chests. All ages, all races, all causes; they all turned out in force. For the first time in a long while anti-war, anti-capitalist, freedom for Palestine and environmental campaigners, all had a tangible focus to spotlight their distain upon.  | | Chris remembers his protest. |
The moment Tony Blair invited George Bush and his 700-armed agents into our country to have tea with the Queen, plans for protest were put in motion and no one disappointed; two double deckers from Leicester, five from Nottingham, 20 from Manchester, I even met a couple from the Isle of Skye! The media speculation anarchists from far and wide were coming to stir up trouble with the police prompted the expected morning phone call from my mum, “Don’t antagonise anyone, and please look after yourself Christopher.” It wasn’t until I arrived in London and felt the overwhelming unity of the crowd the notion of trouble was swept from my mind. As we gathered together for the start of the march the tension was unbearable: I can’t quite explain how empowered I felt being among so many there to fight the same fight. I felt like we could have walked straight into 10 Downing Street and claim our country back there and then. Debating with friends is one thing, but by holding a placard and walking through the streets of London I felt like I was putting my money where my mouth was. | " It wasn’t until I arrived in London and felt the overwhelming unity of the crowd the notion of trouble was swept from my mind." | | Chris Ackerley |
You could taste the anger in the air, a bitter resentment that manifested itself in 200,000 angry voices outside of Westminster. The pride and sincerity that lit up the faces of three generations was quite a sight as we walked over the Thames at dusk. The highlight of the day was when the march emerged from The Mall and crammed into Trafalgar Square. The rousing speeches from the organisers sounded like the rallying cries of battle, but acted like a beacon of sense in the midst of the chaos. The climax of the day was undoubtedly the toppling of 50ft golden effigy of George Bush, echoing the images of Saddam Hussein’s statue in Baghdad. Ron Kovic, a Vietnam War veteran led the countdown and gave a speech about how he loved his country but would not stand aside and let it bully the world. On the coach home I felt proud of all the people who had attended the march. I don’t think that any of us actually believed we would have stopped Bush’s visit, but letting him come to have lunch with his mate Tony and photographs with the Queen, without a fuss, would be a crime of passivity. The ability to protest should never be forgotten and my first was certainly a day that I will remember for the rest of my life. | 
