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| | Whilst on mobile patrol I was asked to attend the local train station following a report of 20-25 youths causing a disturbance.
Upon our arrival the youths dispersed and gradually made their way to the high street where they once again congregated.
Amongst the group was a older male. This male was the most outspoken of the group and appeared to be the joker amongst them.
I assumed the male had met up with the group on his way home from work as amongst his various possesions was a red builders helmet.
After stop searching the youths the group were once again sent on there way.
10-15 minutes later I was asked to re-attend the train station where a disturbance had once again occurred.
Upon my arrival I was approached by a female member of rail staff. The female informed me that a male had just dropped his trousers and exposed his penis to her on the platform, "Can you elaborate with your description I asked", "No" she replied, I then asked "Did the male have a hard red helmet".... The female blushed!! I asked no further questions...
Phil Camillier Essex Police June 2008
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| | Back in the early 1970's after the ACC told my Superintendent that I was crashing more traffic motor bikes than the BSA factory could produce, I found myself transferred to be a village bobby to 17 villages to the East of Leicester. I rode a 250cc motor bike - which I thought a bit ironic as I had just been removed from traffic bikes for crashing into every vehicle that moved on the road. After a while the BSAs were superceded by the famous Morris Minor - the one with the `genuine` wood rear - traveller - that was it.
I was village bobby with another couple of colleagues on different shifts, but about every four weeks two shifts collided (freudian slip)so there were two bobbies with only one panda. What was supposed to happen was that the `spare` officer would walk a beat in the town, while the official `rural` bobby would go out in the panda to cover the 17 villages. Well of course what would happen is that the panda bobby would pick up his colleague and they would head for the green fields together - strictly against the rules of course.
Well, on this particular occasion I had picked up PC Hargraves, my colleague at our reporting station - observed by the office PC - popularly known as `Nodder` due to his habit of nodding his head as he spoke. We headed off to a large estate in the middle of our patch, having been sent there by control after one of our elderly contacts - Harry (best tea spot and gossip gatherer going), had phoned in asking for the `rural panda` to drop in. Although Harry lived in a nearby village he was gardener to the estate we met him at.
Eager to obtain the latest news on the criminals in our area, as Harry beckoned we followed him to a fence bordering the estate and a large field behind it. Pointing over the fence Harry said ` Did you ever see so many mushrooms?`. We agreed we hadn't. Harry told us to go back and get as many shopping bags as we could find, to gather as many mushrooms as we wanted.
We didn't need any spurring and shortly after carrying numerous plastic bags we began harvesting the mushrooms. Occasionally we were aware of four or five people on the opposite side of the field doing the same, and we gave them a cheery wave. We were of course in full uniform, complete with helmets as we gathered in the harvest.
Having filled about 3 carrier bags each with top quality wild mushrooms we climbed back over the fence, to again meet Harry.
I said` I didn't know that field was part of the estate`
Harry said `It isn't - it belongs to that farm there`. He pointed at an adjacent farm, and then I recognised the other `mushroom gatherers` I had seen in the field. The farmer and his family were busily picking THEIR crop. Harry wandered off and PC Hargraves and I returned to the Panda. On each side of the bonnet of the car were two of the hugest bunches of grapes we had ever seen - obviously planted there by Harry.
Well we tried to retreat. We had hardly got out of the driveway of the estate, when we received a radio call from our stations enquiry office man.
I answered - he said ` Is PC Hargraves with you?`
Well I knew we were in deep poo-poo. Not only had we taken mushrooms and grapes that didn't belong to us, I had taken PC Hargraves off his beat for a jaunt in the Rural panda. I couldn't say he wasn't with me because the office PC who was calling had seen me drive out with him.
So I had to confess that he was indeed with me.
` Return to the office - see the duty Inspector` was the command.
We returned with hearts in our boots. We assumed that the rightful owners of the mushrooms had reported us - or even the rightful owner of the grapes. We filed togther sheepishly into the Inspectors office.
He said `Its OK I only need To see PC Hargraves`
Divide and conquer I thought, and left the office.
After a few minutes PC Hargraves emerged.
`Does he want to see me now?` I queried.
No he was just checking an RTA file I submitted the other day, and wanted to go over a couple of points with me.
Relief swept over me but I made sure that the next time I checked the animal movement records of the farmer who owned the mushrooms I explained what had happened and offered to pay for them. Of course he refused payment. I figured that as Harry was the gardener and rightful custodian of the grapes he was entitled to `prune` the crop and discard any not required in any way he saw fit, so my confessions stopped there.
Stressful day - but the mushrooms and grapes were delicious.
I still come across PC Hargraves occasionally - like me he has long retired and taken up a `civilian` post with the Force. I now call him PC Hargrapes in memory of our lucky escape.
Les Smith Ex Leicestershire Police June 2008
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| | Having gained my police driving permit at the third attempt, I was keen to make a good impression. Just as I was collecting my vehicle keys from the patrol sergeants office for my first solo ‘Panda’ patrol, I walked smack bang into the Superintendent who was on his way to star in the local amateur ‘Gilbert & Sullivan’ play.
He wished me all the best and hoped I would make a better job of keeping my eyes open once I commenced my patrol. Determined to show him what a fine officer I was becoming, I thoroughly checked the vehicle - re-inflating the tyres, topping up the oil and water bottles. Once a quick inspection for damage was completed, I was out on patrol, I decided to get out to some of the remoter rural bits of my patch that I hadn’t seen when assigned foot patrol duties with the other non-driving officers.
Once out into the country lanes I was congratulating myself on my good fortune of being paid to drive the superb rear engined, 850cc, Hillman Imp, when I spotted up ahead a broken down vehicle. I pulled in behind and could not believe my good fortune when a head popped out from the nearside of the car and it was the one and same Superintendent. Here was my chance to get back in his good books! I asked him if he needed a hand and he replied he certainly did. Handing me the keys, he asked if I could get the spare tyre and the jack out from the boot. I did so and assuring me he could manage he dismissed me to resume my patrol. I continued on my rural patrol, surprised that the radio was so quiet. In those days (1976), only one car known as the Area (or 999) car was equipped with a force radio the rest of us had a cumbersome two set affair tuned to the front office of the Police Station. Unbeknown to me I strayed far beyond the limits of the small hand held sets. About an hour or so later I returned to the town area and was aware that he my call sign was being hailed over the radio by a rather exasperated Station Sergeant. I was told in no uncertain terms to return to my previous rendezvous point with the Superintendent, with as much haste as was humanly possible. I returned to the delights of the countryside and was rather surprised to find the Superintendent in exactly the same place I had left him but now changed into his full theatrical costume! “You blithering idiot” (or words to that effect), he exclaimed “You drove off with my car keys I have missed the first act!”. Horrified I removed his car keys from my pocket and off he drove in a cloud of dust, leaving me red faced in his vapour trail.
Keith WHITNELL (May 2007). Ex Kent Police
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| | I am now long retired, but served latterly in the Merseyside Police retiring as the Station Sergeant at the Mounted Department. For a number of years I was one of four mounted officers who escorted the winning horse in the Grand National from the course to the unsaddling enclosure. Today this path from the course to the unsaddling area is now sterile and devoid of spectators; but when we did it we had to literatly force a path through wall-to-wall race-goers who decamped from the grandstands to the area fronting the unsaddling enclosure to welcome home the winner. This, of course was liable to security problems.
On leaving the course the escort first entered the last 100m of the walkway which opened onto the grandstand area fronting the unsaddling enclosure. With up to 40 horses competting in the race we were obviously unaware of all the horses' various connections.
One thing you could not do no matter what on entering this area was stop; at this critcal and narrow point one male was bloccking our path. He was completely estactic and oblivious to all calls by the leading half-section to make clear the path. As a consequence he was swept up between the leading half-section buffetted towards my colleague and myself and spat out behind us. Whereupon the winning jockey, until now, completely oblivious to this turned to me with an even bigger grin and said, 'That's the Trainer', who was then grabbed by the scruff of his jacket and hauled forward to greet his winning horse. He thanked us later for safeguarding the best interests of his horse.
George Jones Ex Merseyside Polic April 2008
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| | As part of a community improvement project, I was out in the mobile police station when my two police colleagues had to attend a minor incident. The afternoon had been quiet so I was quite confident that I could handle anything that came along. And along it came.
An elderly Eastern European gentleman strolled up and asked "Do you speak Police?"
"Well, sir, I'm not a police officer but how can I help?"
"No, no, do you speak Police?"
Then it dawned. "Do you mean Polish?"
"Yes, Police."
I had to apologise and explain that I didn't but I could call a colleague who did. The man shook his head.
"You wait here," he said in perfectly good English.
A minute or two later, he returned with a younger woman in two.
"This is my daughter," he announces. "She will translate for you. But don't speak too fast or she won't understand you."
The rest of the conversation continued in this vein, with all three of us speaking English. Anyway, the matter was resolved to everyone's satisfaction and the gentleman went of expounding his admiration for the British Police all the way down the street.
Lara Curtayne Beds Police April 2008
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| | At last year's Christmas drinks we were joined by a member of the 'Intelligence Office'. With her first glass of wine in her hand she looked over at the wall and frowned. On the wall were the words, "WI FI". She promptly called out to everyone, "What's Wee Fee...?"
Anon Thames Valley Police April 2008
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| | Whilst on a night foot patrol with my Sergeant on our safer neighourhood ward. We tasked our selves to curbing the anti-social behaviour caused by people leaving the pubs and noisely walking off down the quite residental streets. This night it was raining slightly when we saw three males smashing bottles in the street and making a lot of noise. Serge said that we will sneak up and grab them all, they were about 150 metres away. We got within 10 metres of them when they realised that we were following them so with our plan blown, Serge shouted out for them to stop and we started to run up to them. Two of the lads stopped the other took off, I thought that I could catch this one as I was already at speed, in my eagerness to catch him I found my self flying thought the air and my top hat flew off nearly knocking out the running chap. I landing flat on the floor whilst he made good his escape, I slipped on a wet kerb. To my embrassment Serge was standing there holding on to the two lads shaking his head and tutting, I picked myself off the floor and thanked that its was dark so no one could see my red face. I found out later that the serge had fallen many times before but he had felt after seeing my fall.
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| | A few years ago, whilst shift Sergeant in Hull, I had deployed all the resources for the night shift making sure that both of the 'stingers' had been taken out in patrol cars as we were enduring a speight of stolen cars. The stinger was quite an important piece of kit in the days before helicopters and Roads Crime Sections. I knew that one of my most enthusiastic double crewed teams had one stinger with them so I could be assured that they would not be far away if an smv was sighted.
Humberside Police have been the brunt of jokes for many years about the use of 'Proton' cars for patrol work and they are not regarded highly for reliability or durability.
About 2.00 am I was summoned to the enquiry office by the desk clerk and directed to a taxi driver who was standing at the counter holding a 'stinger'. "Is this yours?" he said. I gladly accepted as I recognised it as one of the pieces of kit that left my office after eleven o clock briefing. The taxi driver went on to explain that a marked Police Proton had entered a street in front of him at some rate of knots. This street is very short but is home to some of the highest speed bumps in Hull.
As my intrepid warriors took off over the first speed hump, the boot flew open and the 'stinger' self deployed around a lamp post. My two star players realised the boot was flapping open so stopped and quickly closed it looking very puzzled.
I duly thanked the taxi driver for his honesty and let him go. I then made some routine calls over the airwaves to make sure that we knew were all the stingers were and that the patrols check the boot of their cars. Needless to say there was a very long silence before the terrible two plucked up courage and devised a story to tell me when they returned to the station to report the loss.
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| | A FEW YEARS AGO I WAS ON DUTY WHEN A CPN SHOPPING IN THE ASDA IN WOLVERHAMPTON MADE A 999'S CALL STATING SHE'D SEEN 1 OF HER PATIENTS WHO HAD BEEN MISSING FROM THE LOCAL M/H HOSPITAL.SHE SAID HE WAS A TALL IC3 AND WAS STANDING IN THE DOORWAY OF THE ASDA,SHE WOULD SLIP OUT OF THE STORE PAST THIS PATIENT AND MAKE HER WAY TO BILSTON STREET POLICE STATION IN WOLVERHAMPTON AND WAIT FOR HIM AND THE OFFICERS THERE.I WAS THE SECOND CAR AT THE ASDA ARRIVING TO SEE THIS TALL IC3 MALE BEING BUNDLED INTO THE BACK OF THE POLICE CAR,STRUGGLING AND SHOUTING "THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT,MENTAL HEALTH "!!THE OFFICERS TRYING TO EASE THE SITUATION BY SAYING,"OF COURSE THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU SIR,JUST COME WITH US AND WE'LL SORT YOU OUT".ANYWAY I FOLLOWED THEM BACK TO THE NICK WHERE WE WERE ALL MET BY THE CPN,SHE HAD A BEMUSED LOOK ON HER FACE AND SAID "WHOSE THAT,THAT'S NOT HIM" ? OUR M/H PATIENT HAD ALSO SLIPPED AWAY FROM THE ASDA AND GUESS WHAT HE WAS REPLACED BY A "SANE" TALL,IC3 MALE WHO ALSO DECIDED TO STAND IN THE DOORWAY,WE DID LAUGH AND THANKFULLY THE MAN DID SEE THE FUNNY SIDE OF THIS INCIDENT.
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| | Reading Gareth Thompson's contribution about the 'benefits and lost money scam' brought to mind two incidents.
1. One day I was carrying out my duties as Station Duty Officer in a station within the Belfast area. It was a Thursday and so we had the usual crop of 'My Giro didn't arrive' and 'I have lost my brew money' unfortunates reporting to the enquiry office. I asked one particular chancer 'Where did you lose your money?. Was it on your way down to the station?' Without hesitation he answered 'Yes!'.
2. The Money and Arrest Warrants are kept readily available in our Enquiry Office. I received a telephone call from one individual who stated 'I'll tell yer what it is mate. I think there is a money warrant out on me. Can you tell me how much it is for?' 'Whats your name and address'? I asked (quite a reasonable question I thought). 'Do you think I am effin stupid. If I tell you that you lot will be around here and lifting me!' He then hung up.
Ralph Fella Avon & Somerset March 2008
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