Friday, 22 July 2011

ANP ARRRRHHHHHHH


Automatic Number Plate Recognition is a fascinating, tool sitting in the van watching the plates being read
is a bit like grown up car spotting. When the alarm goes off it’s actually quite exciting , ..no tax...no mot.. no insurance...markers on the police national lottery its like a big crime reduction fruit machine.....
We had a joint operation with Big Town force, on a main road heading towards the motoway...surfice to say I was busy all day and my FPN wallet was severly deminished. However the car pound was full to bursting point!


Sunday, 17 July 2011

The sound of silence...

Who would of thought it......saturday night....nothing happened nothing at all, drove around in some lovely countryside but not a sausage.

Oh I tell a lie we had to asked a lady to move her car then the electricity board could dig a hole underneath it......Oh the adrenaline rush

Monday, 11 July 2011

More drunks!

The next village, (well,small town really) to mine, has an annual pram race...fun for the kids etc etc..in reality it is an excuse for a great big pub crawl...and underage drinking fest.
 We started the night in the park which had been given over to the fun fare.....nothing to untoward.. confiscated beer from kids, issued a penalty notice for disorder to a bloke peeing in full view of the field..... he chose not to accept and will have his day in court...lets hope his bladder holds out for that or the magistrate could be in for a surprise. 
We moved on to the centre of town a narrow street with three of four pubs, but rammed with people most of whom where off the faces, I had a lager can bounce off my head but couldn’t see where it came from. We ended up breaking up two rival football factions intend on taking free kicks on each other..not a problem...what really began to grate though was drunks wanting to have there picture taken wearing my hat, linking arms and wanting to dance, or women asking me if they were pregnant could they pee in my hat. And unseen arse grabbers

Monday, 4 July 2011

Alcohol makes you Handsome, Strong, Fearless, and irresistible…




…..as well as ignorant, stupid, irresponsible, and deaf.


Saturday night was very q***t, not much happening at all, the local nightclub has shut down, and the ‘big fight’ was on Sky. So it was a procession of domestics and prisoner transports. Being in the ‘naughty bus’ with the cage in the back we where called to shuttle a few rowdy individuals and drunks, plus a couple or burglary suspects to the nick. Nothing to taxing or exciting.
What struck me as we cruised around is how stupid pissed people look when they are trying to walk around, and how incapable of following the slightest instructions. Worst of all they just never know when to shut up when told.

We were called to a ‘grade 1 domestic’, which means we have to blue light it to the scene as quickly as possible. On arrival there was a distraught middle aged lady, pissed, crying in the garden, a middle aged man, pissed, in the kitchen and a twenty something not quite as pissed, up stairs leaning on his window sill smoking,

“ What the fuck do you lot want, come up here and I’ll fucking lamp you”

Charming.

I talked to the older bloke, trying to calm him down, it was difficult due to his ‘drunks amnesia’ and having to answer the same question and listen to the same statements about six times. Eventually my colleagues got the woman to stop ranting and crying and the lad to chill out and we left if not happy at least safe in the knowledge that there weren’t going to plunge kitchen knives into each other. I sympathise to a certain extent and they will get a call from our domestic violence unit, for family mediation…but if you know things are a bit uptight…don’t get pissed as a fart it just makes things worse in every possible way.

 We got another call from the cctv operators telling us a man was pushing and shoving a girl, trying to make her go with him, obviously a serious matter, turned out to be a couple, she wanting to go and stay with her mates him wanting her to go with him. She was tearful and adamant she didn’t want to go with him.  Long story short after telling him to go away more times than we had the patience for and more times than he deserved before being nicked he eventually sidled off. We got another call from the cctv about ten minutes later telling us he was following her. We saw him staggering out of the kebab shop, and then her coming out of a flat a few doors away.turns out she had phoned him and told him to come….  I give up

Thursday, 23 June 2011

2 wheeled Rant

I’m a keen cyclist and do a 12 mile commute through central London a few days a week. Truth be told I despair of other riders, 80% of them are complete idiots, jumping red lights riding on the pavement, weaving through pedestrians trying to cross the road - It’s a complete nightmare and totally unnecessary, Id love to summons someone for furious and wanton cycling..that would make my day.
The media and the cyclists pressure groups make a big noise when a cyclist is squashed by a lorry, everyone wants to fit extra mirrors of cameras to the trucks and re train the drivers even make them ride around town on a bike to see what its like. The simple matter of it is cyclists get squashed by lorries turning left because they filter down the left hand side to get in front of the lorry and save a few seconds at the lights...simple solution...don’t bloody do it and if you do don’t complain if you get crushed!. 

And Boris bikes..don’t get me started..great idea..very commendable for tourists etc in the west end...but it's created a great wobbling army of clueless peddling zombies, its like trying to fly a hang glider through a Kamikaze festival.

Monday, 20 June 2011

A nice change


Sunday was a funday, on duty at a family event a police headquarters… dog displays, helicopters food, vintage vehicles, happy people and smiling children…… a bit of traffic directing and a BBQ
Makes a change being waved to by children instead of being given the v’s…..

although the BBQ was put on by the dog section.....draw your own conclusions

Van man


Why do people, deny they have anything they shouldn’t have when we ask them, when they know they are about to be searched? It’s obvious we are going to find it, so why not save the bother and just tell the truth?  Friday night, pissing down, windy we get a call to look out for a certain van reported by a mop for acting suspiciously in an area known for drugs deals.  Like most of these calls we kept an eye out not really thinking we would see it. The first thing I knew about it was when my head hit the side window as Inspector X threw the van around 360 degrees as he had spotted a vehicles which as we say ‘fitted the description’, we followed it for a while and then gave it a tug.  Inside where two very fidgety looking bodies in local authority uniforms, as sit was a council van. While Inspector X talked to them I noticed one of them smartly pull his huge hairy hand from between the car seats. 

We got them to the side of the road and asked them did they have anything they shouldn’t have..
”no not us guv” etc. 

we gave them several chances to tell s whet they had. A regular unit arrived to assist us and as we searched driver and passenger they searched the van, lo and behold three bags of ‘herbal remedy’. We where all for dragging them off to custody, seizing the van, informing the council, etc.etc. But before we could do so the regular officers said we should issue a cannabis warning……ho hum… so a cannabis warning it was.  

They guy we took into our car was more worried about his wife finding out than anything else and kept apologising for lieing to us.

Back at the station, this simple warning translated into about two hours of form filling and report writing…in effect taking two units of the streets who could have been doing something useful, instead of filling box files with dead trees.

Monday, 13 June 2011

Having a riot




The first thing that struck me as we motored down the road in a convoy, was how well the people we passed where driving, no one seemed to be going to quickly everyone wore a seat belt and all mobile phones where safely tucked away. The second thing that struck me was how heavy the rain was, and the fact that very soon 150 colleagues and I would be standing out in it.
PSU level 3 training is, the basic crowd control training for all officers, no riot shields no crash helmets and no long batons, just normal everyday kit and should the worst happen a grim determination to hold the line until the cavalry arrives.

Our training took place at a bleak and windswept disused army barracks about 30 miles from HQ, a rather forlorn looking place in an advanced state of decay. After some basic training in the fundamental tactics of different styles or cordons, and some fantastic lunch we were split into two groups, one to be the crowd and the other to control them. Suffice to say, crowd behaviour was bad and armfuls of ‘stolen’ kit had to be returned after each session. Although obviously miles away from the prospect of a genuine hostile crowd the event gave us a taster of the noise, aggression, and problems of containment we would be up against in a real situation. Each of us learned a lot and hopefully took something positive from the day other than wet trousers aching limbs and the odd missing collar number.

As a slight footnote It made us realise how the lack of 'uniforms on the street' may effect our ability to control such situations, it took 40 or so people to mount an effective cordon across a normal width road. When did you last see 40 bobbies down your street?

Thursday, 26 May 2011

The power of hi vis…

I arrived in the police station hereto after, referred to as ‘The Nick’, 15 or so minutes before my appointed time, probably just as well, as I wandered through the mostly deserted and certainly labyrinthine corridors with a growing certainty that It was some great psychological experiment and my lab rat like efforts were being secretly filmed for the edification of some unseen power. Anyway, I did eventually manage to stumble into the neighbourhood office, and sat quietly awaiting my contact in the form of Inspector x, who actually turned out to be a top chap. After a couple of hours spent having what seemed like a rainforests worth of paper work, forms, tickets, and aid memoirs thrust upon me I was exhausted and my mind flew round in circular quite jerky movements mimicking the actions of a wounded game bird.

My relief was palpable as we headed down to the garage to ‘kit up’ and hit the road, I know the phrase ‘Fire up the people carrier' does not have the same ring as ‘Fire up the Quattro’, but you get the gist.

Its actually the first time (believe it or not), I have sat in a police car, I had to sit on my hands when faced with the array of infinitely pressable knobs and buttons, yet I was strangely uncomfortable due to the positioning of my Asp and handcuffs, phnarr phnarr.

First mission was to the motorway, a multiple pile up? A road block? A herd of escaped wildebeest?...of course not we were bloody hungry after all the paper work...we needed food! 

After refuelling curtesy of the golden arches we drove across our borough to set up a speed trap, What fun, out of the car with hats and hi viz. The power of the Hi Viz is truly remarkable, it is like a powerful force field, a tractor beam if you will. The merest glimpse of which causes vehicles to miraculously slow to a crawl and drivers stare fixedly ahead, with the look of one more used to marching through no mans land in a hail of machine gun fire. Yet sometimes its power wains, and the hapless motorist is beckoned to the side of the road to be handed the good news, 
“Do you know why we have stopped you sir/madam?”
“Was I going a little fast officer?”
“Yes you where..here have a ticket  and a nice day”

It doesn’t quite work like that to be honest.
In our case dependent on the number of mph they were going over 30 they either received a ticket, of more properly a Fixed Penalty notice, of where given a little on the spot education in the form of a Driver Alert. This involves offering them the chance to fill in a little form and look at some rather unpleasant photographs while we tell them the story behind the picture, and explain the implications of excess speed. I did several of these, with varying reactions from the ‘offender’. 

After our speed reduction success, we patrolled the leafy borough in search of mobile phone users, not any random person chatting at the bus stop, you understan, but the annoying numpties who still insist on driving with a Nokia clamped to their ear and one hand on the steering wheel. It wasn’t long before we came a cross a young girl in a dependable German car, hareing around a roundabout like something from Tokyo Drift. Needless to say she left our little encounter with a lighter bank account and a much heavier driving licence. On the way back to the Station...sorry 'The Nick', we stopped a car with a defective break light, nothing serious, just to point it out and tell them to fix it. However, the car contained several unseatbelted children, worryingly one in the from seat, kneeling up with no restraints, after pointing out to the childs mother who was driving the car that it is quite expensive to replace a windscreen after a toddler has flown through it, we issued her with an non endorsable FPN i.e a fine but no points.

Back at 'The Nick' we had another hour or so of form filling and note book write ups before we could knock off. 

The day was utterly brilliant and I enjoyed every minute of it with  perhaps the exception of the Chicken Mac something or other I had for lunch, I paid for that later I can tell you!









Tuesday, 24 May 2011

I’m by day a box pusher, a picture rearanger if you will, I am a contributor to the destruction of the rain forests, a computer jockey, a shiner of trouser seats. whose output contributes nothing to society save the chance to throw another magazine into the recycling bin or give the cat a treat with a liner for her litter tray. I cannot feel proud of what I do and believe me I have tried , and I cannot feel fulfilled, I have tried that as well. 
My wife who is a teacher of children with profound and multiple learning dificulties makes a reall diference in the lives of those she touches and I am infinitly proud of her 
I have volunteerd, for the special constabulary, I have sat in classrooms, been hit with metal sticks, sprayed with CS gas, forced into armlocks, been handcuffed thrown to the ground and had my pressure points tickled. But I have passed, I am now a Special Constable. Today will be my first shift.