PC Keith Blakelock

A very quick post - perhaps there is more good news after the Guilty finding of our mate Ali.

Police have now arrested a suspect for the Vicious murder of PC Keith Blakelock in 1985.
The story of his death is well known, but as a reminder he lost his fingers trying to defend himself from the repeated slashing attacks.

Good luck to the team investigating it.

Link: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/8506932.stm

Commander Dizaei

A crook in uniform is as much a crook as one that breaks into your house late at night to nick your tv, if not more so.






Commander Dizaei has at last been found guilty, for Assault, Perverting the Course of Justice, and Wrongful arrest.
He's a shameful example of how appallingly a small minority of officers behave - and a reminder that rank doesn't always equate to a good person, let alone a good copper.

The Black Police Association were hugely verbal throughout, stating that Dizaei was innocent, and accusing the Police of racism for charging soon to be ex-Commander Dizaei.
This despite the victim also being from an ethnic minority.

Disgraceful behaviour on his part. When you "accidently" delete the texts that apparently were sent to you, and are believed by doctors to have self harmed in order to set someone up... I'm just glad that he no longer wears the uniform that I do.

As a final aside, listen to his 999 call, HERE

Again, embarassing. Firstly, his shout for 'Urgent Assistance.' This is a Golden phrase, and when used EVERY copper on duty will run - firstly from your area and neighbouring areas, then central units, then potentially met wide. If a Police Officer is in dire straits and is about to get seriously hurt, we will do anything including putting ourselves at risk to get to you.

He used this assistance call for his own lies - and listening to the tape, even if the arrest had been justified and truthful, there is no way that he is in an urgent assistance situation. He is calmly talking to the detained male (who was by the way in handcuffs) and frankly I'd be hard pushed to understand a brand new probationer calling for urgent assistance in those circs, let alone a supposedly experienced officer.

He also used bullying tactics and ordered the operator to let him speak to "Chief Inspector IR" - Chief Inspector Information Room. Whether he thought this implicit threat would help, or that he was entitled to special service because of his rank, who knows... I'm sure that if I called 999 and demanded to speak to Chief Inspector IR I'd be given deservedly short shrift.

And lets not even get into the hows and whys of him being in uniform, off duty, in a cafe, conducting private business deals, with handcuffs to hand.
Actually, why hasn't this been dealt with?

Snow - Naughty

In case someone in Britain hasn't noticed, it has been snowing. A bit.
This apparently is a recipe for DISASTER. I believe that it is a fact that I am one of the only adults in the whole country who has ever seen this type of precipitation before, let alone driven in it.

At least, that's what the news items would have you believing.



Inspector Gadget once again sums up my feelings perfectly about snow and Policing. So much so that there isn't a lot of point me expanding on it.

Instead, I'd like to tell you a story about what happened to me a few hours ago. Driving along a less gritted and less well known track after having refs, I spotted a group of oiks hanging around at a corner. They'd eye - fucked me as I'd driven past earlier, and so I took a little more interest than I would usually. Especially when I noticed them packing their snowballs hard into their gloved hands.
Not a problem. I slowed down and waited for it - sure enough, the barrage of ice balls came and reverberated off the windows and doors with loud bangs. The little darlings.
Obviously, I'm beyond stopping the car and yelling at them for a little bit of snow ball action. Besides, then I'm pretty sure that there would have been a second supply of snow balls, and I hate having to dry my uniform.

However, a rear wheel drive car in the snow does have it's uses. A little squirt of the gas caused the back wheels to spin, and spray said oiks with the lovely brown, dirty slush that collects on the road in weather like this.

Was it wrong of me to find this the funniest thing I've seen in days?

Diamond Jubilee

I've just been reading THIS news item.

So first of all I'm happy that in 2012 there will be another bank holiday. This will either mean that I get an extra day off (as rest to counteract the effects of working so many hours during the olympics) or an extra days overtime (in order to add to the effect of working so many hours during the olympics).

However, another, more pressing item has come to mind regarding the jubilee. Do any coppers know if this is another chance for us to get easily earned medals...?


Before anyone asks, I'm trying to not to even think about Jack Straw. Lets face it, even the medal made me start to seethe about politicians.

Christmas In Review

Well, my Christmas shifts have come and gone.
Fun they were not, and I have a sneaking suspicion that my division wasn't too dissimalar to Stressed Cop's.

During my Christmas Day shift alone, I did or dealt with the following:

I went to a serious sexual assault, assisted with a short pursuit, was involved in three foot chases, kicked down a door, had a Christmas hug from three Ambulance girls, got involved in a large scale fight resulting in Officers calling for Urgent Assistance, handcuffed my reluctant partner during said fight, went to and chased off a number of gang fights, got kicked out of refs breaks twice, stopped and searched a few ne'er do wells and played thumbsy wars with an Ambulance Crew to decide a course of action for our call...

The thumbsy was probably my favourite moment. Not least because during said thumbsy war, our Section Sergeant arrived in time to witness my defeat at the hands of a five foot three petite Ambulance Girl. And then sigh before walking away from me muttering. I'm sure he misses me on our rest days.

I have to admit to a slight feeling of ennui before arriving at work on Christmas Day. In fact, I was pissed off and dreading it. My previous shameful post, an exercise in feeling sorry for myself, may well have indicated that.

The shift was all I expected and more. It was full of crap from parade onwards. What was great however, was the morale. A shift that none of us wanted to be parading for, understaffed and overworked - but determined to have a laugh. This went also for all the other emergency service and shift workers I met through the shift.

So thank you boys and girls for helping make my Christmas Day actually bearable. Please don't take it personally though when I say that I'd prefer not to spend it with you next year.

Happy Christmas

Well, this may be more of a moan than a proper post. But hey, it's my blog - and you can't say I didn't warn you.
It's also link heavy. Tough.


So Merry Christmas. Here's to another Christmas working, the ninth year in a row that I won't be seeing my family, drinking and catching up with my siblings, laughing with loved ones or opening presents on the day I'm supposed to.

Here's to another 'festive' day of gang fights and alcohol fuelled violence.

Here's to another day of trying to keep chipper whilst waiting to start a ten hour night duty, another day of trying to remain sober and interested with the foreboding presence of the upcoming night shift looming large in my mind.

Here's to yet another day of taking a moment to stand watching the street, desolate apart from happy families going on Christmas walks and couples in love enjoying the cold before heading in to warm up. And another feeling of embarrassment as I smile towards them to show I'm part of their day; before the rush of heat in the head as I realise I'm not part of their day at all, they don't know me, and won't be seeing me unless their Christmas goes badly wrong.

Here's to another day of trying to comfort distraught weeping Burglary victims, and being unable to answer the question "but what about the kid's presents?"

Here's to praying not to have to deal with another RTA that leaves blood on my uniform and a destroyed, bereft family. Here's to the prayer being answered, and not having to knock on an unsuspecting family's door with a heavy thud and a heavier heart.

Here's to another Christmas Eve night by myself with nothing but a bottle with a percentage mark on it for company. Here's to answering cheery phone calls from friends and family and trying to keep the blackness out for the length of the phone call for their benefit.

Here's to another long shift, after a day trying not to think of the coming descent into an uncaring night, with no one but the LAS to wave to. Here's to another end of a Christmas shift, coming home to an empty lonely home and a cold unfriendly bed.

This year I will be thinking again of the men and women that will never have to share another Christmas like this again.
I'll also be thinking of the boys and girls that can't be home for Christmas at all, and the ones that will never be coming home for Christmas.

Merry Christmas readers.

Rage For Christmas

Naughty Words...

Beano Down The Trousers

You'll be happy to know that I was thoroughly put in my place and given a good old-fashioned bollocking recently.

Driving my patrol car about, I'd been searching for a wanted male who was a named suspect on the PNC (Police National Computer). He had returned to his ex partner's house and made off on seeing the Police arrive into a patch of grassy land nearby, desolate apart from the odd burnt out car and used drugs paraphenalia.
I had enthusiastically joined the chase, and in doing so had got a puncture whilst attempting to drive along a gravel driveway.

Our exploits had taken us close to another force area, and knowing their nick was closest I limped the car there to survey the damage.
The tyre had a serious puncture and the car was going nowhere with it in place. So, I used my intiative (a bi-yearly event), borrowed some tools from the neighbouring force's garage hand, and then replaced the tyre with the space saver. After five minutes work, I radioed my Sergeant and told him what I was doing, then I drove the car to Kwik-fit and replaced the orginal tyre.

Sorted, and back on the road in less than an hour.

Oh no. I was then told not to take any calls, and instead to return immediately to my nick. Where I was given a bollocking by a Sergeant for changing the tyre myself. What I should have done was parked the car up at the side of the road, then called out VT to attend. I have done this before. It takes about two hours at least.
And of course, they don't carry tyres either. All they do is replace the puncture with a space saver, then let me drive to Kwik-fit to get the original replaced.

I was bollocked good and proper, and told to think about the consequences if I had injured myself whilst changing the tyre.
The fact that I used Non-Met tools in a Non-Met nick was apparently even worse, and the Sergeant (not from my team incidentally) mentioned that he was considering an action plan for me because of what I had done. I was too shocked to argue, and left the office thoroughly chastened.

It's why stories like this one from Inspector Gadget don't surprise me in the slightest.

Today is Yesterday's Tomorrow

I was drinking with a good friend and colleague of mine recently, and ended up thinking back to my college days. My first kiss was from a girl a couple of years older than me, called Denise.
Her Dad ran the local scrapyard.
The song "Stuck on You" by Lionel Richie was playing and I was frankly terrified.
And slightly bemused, if I'm completely honest.

Anyway, shortly afterwards she broke up with me and went out with my mate Dale. Dale was shorter than most people of our age, but a great footballer. Fair's fair.

Fast forward a year or two (ok, maybe quite a lot more) and I've had my fair share of break ups and break downs.

The interesting thing is that I've managed to break up with and be broken up with, and on each occasion I've managed to do it without involving the Police.
Yet, I often feel I'm in a minority there. As any Police Officer knows, no matter how ridiculous you may think your 'issues' are, our informants from our calls can always beat them.

There is almost nothing that will not be sent down to a patrol unit to deal with. Unfortunately, if a call is a "type 29" - ie a domestic, then a unit will have to attend. Regardless of whether a crime has been committed or even alleged. In fact, regardless if a crime is even possible.
A domestic type call is anything that refers to a call between a husband and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend, exes of any description, siblings, parents, family members and any sexual partners past and present.

In the incestuous estates we inhabit on our day to day patrols, these are most of our suspects, victims and witnesses.

As soon as the domestic tag is applied to a call, then everything that follows is out of our hands. If we attend and there is no allegation at all, no injuries, no hint of violence, then we only have to do the following: Full statement from each party involved; A statement from the officer on scene; A twenty six page domestic violence book; A Full 'non-crime' Crime report on the computer (taking between forty five minutes and an hour and half dependant on typing skills); A seperate computer report on any children or vulnerable people in the premises or involved in any way. So you result the call, justifying your actions. Then complete all the above, justifying your actions. Then you bring all the above to your Sergeant, so he or she can then justify your actions.

Keep in mind that these are for NON crimes. When there has been a crime or an allegation made, then obviously you arrest and all the above is used as evidence.

Amongst the many, many calls I have been to needing all the above for a non-crime domestic are a psychic wife who had had visions that something bad was going to happen to her husband, a woman who had called police because her boyfriend wouldn't get off the computer (relatively common, that), a woman who had called police as her boyfriend had cheated on her and wanted him arrested for it, and many, many "threats" by text. Of the "u slag u shaged tracy an shes got hiv i hop u get cancr" type.

Examples from other officers are always welcome.

I'm in a stable relationship at the moment, but even in my worst relationships I have never felt the need to call my colleagues down to join in. In fact, I've always wanted to keep my private life... well, private.

Am I alone in this?