Best "late for work" excuse

[maugein96]

Here's another late for work excuse that big Greg Tassie decided to offer up one afternoon when he was a few minutes late for the second half of a "spreadover". A spreadover was when you came out and did a few hours to cover the morning rush hour, then went home for a few hours, before coming back to cover what was known as the evening peak.

Greg's driver, Willie Bell, was pacing up and down, anxious that the "big" man was late again, and was just about to go and report him as failing to appear, when in walked big Greg with a grin on his face.

Greg explained, "I was walking down Tollcross Road towards the bus garage, when I saw that two lorries (trucks) had got into a bit of trouble. Apparently, they had been digging holes at Parkhead Cross, and they ended up with too many, so they had to put one big hole on the back of a lorry and take it away. The lorry hit a bump in the road and the hole fell off the back of it onto the road. A taxi that was following close behind the lorry fell into the hole, and the driver was badly injured. I had to wait with him until an ambulance came, and then it took maybe 20 or 30 of us to lift the hole back onto the lorry again. I had to go back home for a change of uniform, so I'm a wee bit late."

Now that was obviously one of Greg's "funnies", and was the reason why you never actually knew when he was spinning a yarn (or two).

 

[Corsaire]

Sally, Sally, Sally, Did you not learn the first rule of Policing? Never Get Wet.
There are thousands of bolt-holes in which you can stay dry and relatively warm ........ you just have to know where they are.

Oh yes, no probs when I worked in England, but in Scotland, out on the hill or stuck at a road accident, there wasnt always a choice. I did keep my wellies handy though !!

I seem to remember that piece to an American could mean gun - it confused the Anglos who watched too many American police films !

John - O never came across a spreadover but did some weird shifts, particularly in the UK. The Ottawa system was the worst, particularly when I was on duty an hours drive from home. Some shifts were 10 hours - heaven help you if you made an arrest just before knocking off !!!

 

[maugein96]

Sally,

Spreadovers were busmen's shifts and you got paid a "retainer" for the hours you didn't actually work based on the fact that your whole day was wasted.

We had Ottawa for a while, and I think the troops were still working it when I got a plum office job in 1999. Seven nights on, then 6 days off never worked for me, as I always had problems sleeping at night after nightshift, and was shattered when we had to start backshift after the 6 days off.

Every October when I worked in Edinburgh we did what was known as two weeks "standstill". You did the same shift two weeks in a row, so if you were nightshift that meant 14 in a row. Reason was to save same shift getting hit for Xmas and/or New Year for several years in a row. Never worked that anywhere else. In county areas our Friday and Saturday backshifts were from 1400-0200, or even 0300 to supplement the nightshift during busy times. In Hawick it was often the case if we were chasing a car south our nearest assistance would be a Cumbria Traffic patrol car at Penrith, so we had to be careful.

If any of us could be spared we were often sent to assist Northumbria officers in Berwick at weekends. Anybody we arrested had to be a Northumbrian officer's "collar", and it was great! No paperwork, except to write an English format Section 36 statement! We had Northumbria radios in our cars which we called the "Why aye, five-oh" wireless. Remember "Hawaii 5-0"?

"Boadahs unit, can ye make yah way doon the A1, as fah as Scemiston, and ye'll be met theah by Sajahnt Bahka?"

"Borders unit, can you make your way down the A1 as far as Scremerston, and you'll be met there by Sergeant Barker?"
We used to get a good laugh at Ponteland control room not pronouncing any of the "r"s in their transmissions, especially as we had a few Geordie cops in our force, and we'd get them to "tak back tae Ponteland in puah Geohdie!"

Third letter in the Geordie alphabet is "a". "Can you say the alphabet, Geordie?" "Y, I, A, B, C..........." ("Why aye, a, b,c ...." )

 

[Stephen Hawkins]

In the ancient shift system my force used, we had two "quick changes" a month. A "quick change" is one where your shift ends at 23.00 hrs, and your next one starts at 07.00 hrs. The second "quick change" of the month involved finishing at 07.00 hrs and, yes you've guessed it, starting again at 15.00 hrs.

No wonder most cops got themselves on the caffeine and alcohol treadmill. Alcohol to get you to sleep, and caffeine to keep you awake.

Stephen.

 

[maugein96]

In the ancient shift system my force used, we had two quick changes a month. A quick change is one where your shift ends at 23.00 hrs, and your next one starts at 07.00 hrs. The second quick change of the month involved finishing at 07.00 hrs and, yes youve guessed it, starting again at 15.00 hrs.

No wonder most cops got themselves on the caffeine and alcohol treadmill. Alcohol to get you to sleep, and caffeine to keep you awake.

Stephen.

Stephen,

We had the first changeover you describe, but never heard of the second one.

Went to look at Bedfordshires shift system, which was a mixture of 10 and 11 hour days, with shift overlaps, but our Scottish 6 hour detention limit made it unworkable, and we got a free holiday out of it.

They were paying out a fortune to Northamptonshire to cover parts of their northern territory, which they had to leave unmanned on nightshift! All available resources were often required in Luton, and it was a hell of a mess. We recommended an amalgamation with Northamptonshire, and with typical devilment I suggested that they did the same as the local bus company, and become United Counties Police. Never had a pint bought for me after that. Strange?

Thought you might have a late for work excuse for that quick changeover from nights to lates?

Now that we have a national police force Edinburgh has become our Luton, and the Borders is mostly a cop free zone, especially at weekends. It does work (but only on paper), and we wont be able to call on Cumbria and Northumbria for assistance if we get independence, as they wont accept payment in Green Shield Stamps, which seems to be our only currency option.

Scots cops are now getting compulsory Gaelic lessons, in case they have to deal with any of the 50 people in Scotland who can only speak that language, or arrest anybody who swears at them in Gaelic. Theyre getting there, though. Its only a matter of time before your guys will be getting compulsory tuition in Cornish, for the same reason.

John Walker (ex Poileas Alba).

 

[Stephen Hawkins]

Hi John,

Apart from "quick change" shifts, our major gripe was court warnings on rest days and holidays. We submitted the obligatory Court Calendar with every charge sheet, but the court office seemed to largely ignore
them. Most of us received court warnings for dates when we were on holiday or rest days, and it was a pain in the (choose your own expletive)

Knowing the rules, I was aware that an officer who was on holiday would be flown back home and then returned to his/her holiday destination after the trial at the expense of the force. One day I received a court warning for a day in the middle of my annual leave. We hadn't actually planned to go anywhere, but I was so brassed off that I bought a plane ticket to Belgium.

The Court Office didn't like it when I rang them from Brussels, but they did arrange and pay for a return flight for me. When I got back from Belgium (the second time) the court office demanded an explanation. I submitted a report telling them that I had submitted a court calendar with my annual leave clearly marked , and that in future they should look at the damned thing. I went on to tell them that I intended to be out of the country every time I was given a court date which coincided with my annual leave.

Just to rub salt in the wound, I turned up at court casually dressed and wearing a pair of moccasins. I told the Judge that I had been brought back from my annual leave, and had come to court directly from the airport.

I don't think that it was just a coincidence that I never again received court warnings on my rest days or annual leave.

Kind Regards,

Stephen.

 

[Corsaire]

One shift system made us do a backshift (14.00 - 22.00hrs) after our last night shift so that you didn't sleep off your night duty on your rest day.

At my station in England, some bright spark came up with the idea of starting earlies at 5.00hrs instead of 6.00hrs. That didn't last long !

As for court warnings, how many times have you turned up at court after a warning only to be told you wouldn't be needed. The force would have loved paying for a return flight in that instance !

 

[maugein96]

Stephen,

It was worse in Scotland, due to the requirement for corroboration of all vital evidence. I reckon we would end up in court maybe not quite twice as often as our English colleagues, but it must have been close.

When I was the Borders Case Manager I wasn't allowed to transmit any police report to the Procurators Fiscal if the annual leave of any of the police witnesses was missing. With the Scottish system there is no Police Court Department, or solicitors who prosecute on behalf of the police. The Procurator Fiscal, or his/her "Depute" are the only people who can make the decision to prosecute, and any excusal from court had to be agreed with them directly. It was a similar situation to yours, and we often got the feeling they couldn't care less who was on holiday or days off. Their staff communicated with the police via the Case Management system, and any officers appointed to such posts were effectively agents of the Procurator Fiscal, although still employed by the police. I had 5 years in such a post and was glad to get out when I retired, as it was "stress city" most days.

We also had the unusual situation where we had two Procurators Fiscal covering our divisional area. Now, these guys are in absolute control over what goes and what doesn't in their jurisdictions, and are answerable to no-one at all. They are under no legal obligation to give reasons for their decision to prosecute a case or not.

Worse than that, in Scotland, we aren't allowed to just send out citations with wording like "Contravention of Section 3 of the Road Traffic Act". The charge has to be written out in full (by the police), and both of our guys stipulated how the wording was to be done. There were also certain crimes and offences that one Fiscal would prosecute, and the other wouldn't, so we had to become familiar with all their little quirks and requirements.

Any cop stupid enough to report a driver for a minor road accident would have their report red-penned by me. If it was a bordline type of accident I sent it to the Fiscal and he red-penned it. I often had dust ups with section Inspectors over why I refused to accept some reports from their officers, and I would just tell them to phone the Fiscal direct. Very few of them dared, although I think that happened maybe 5 times in the 5 years I was on office. On every occasion the Fiscal concerned would phone me back and ask me to circulate a memorandum to remind supervisory ranks that I was operating on his instruction with regard to the standard and quality of police reports.

I used to put copies up on my wall so that supervisors could read them.

During the course of criminal investigations it was often necessary for the investigating officers to communicate with the Fiscals for instruction on how to proceed, but when it came to putting it all down into reports, then they often had to consult me.

You can imagine I was either Johnny Good Guy, or just plain John The *******, and if another guy never already had the latter title, I do believe it would have been mine.

One thing that nobody ever did (and got away with) was fly to Belgium to avoid a court appearance. Well done, sir, although I wouldn't have fancied trying it under the Scottish system! One guy phoned in from Cuba, and was flown home and back again. Guess what? The accused failed to appear, so he wasn't actually required!

I wasn't allowed into Cuba, or any other communist country, until the special passport I was issued with in the Navy expired, 10 years after it was issued (the serial number had a security code in it). Don't recall you Army types were issued with passports, but we needed them for some diplomatic reason that now escapes my memory.

 

[Stephen Hawkins]

Hi John,

My flight to Belgium irked a lot of people, and there was blood on the walls in the court office. None of this blood was mine, as I had followed the procedures to the letter. It just needed someone with the guts to challenge the mindless stupidity of a careless bureaucracy, and I fitted the bill.

One or two of the most senior officers gave me a cool reception, but everyone else thought my actions were in a noble cause. At any rate, it worked.

All The Best,

Stephen.

 

[Stephen Hawkins]

Hi Sally,

You are absolutely right; most of us broke into our leave or rest days at the behest of some complete Wally who couldn't read a court calendar. Most accused persons on remand would only plead guilty at the final moment, knowing that they kept their privileges whilst on remand.

None of that was my concern............. all that I wanted was for these jackasses to read my court calendar. Someone needed to throw down the gauntlet in order that these petty bureaucrats would finally get the message, and I decided that someone should be me.

I know for a fact that there was turmoil in the court office, with the blame being chucked about all over the place. A very senior officer (Ch Supt) whispered in my ear about the carnage I had caused. It later transpired that new operating procedures had been ordered in the court office, and the whole thing tightened up.

If my little escapade helped to bring this stupidity into the open, that is pleasing.

Kind Regards,

Stephen.

 

[maugein96]

Hi John,

My flight to Belgium irked a lot of people, and there was blood on the walls in the court office. None of this blood was mine, as I had followed the procedures to the letter. It just needed someone with the guts to challenge the mindless stupidity of a careless bureaucracy, and I fitted the bill.

One or two of the most senior officers gave me a cool reception, but everyone else thought my actions were in a noble cause. At any rate, it worked.

All The Best,

Stephen.

Stephen,

I once staged a one man walk out at Hawick and got away with it.

I arrived at work on a Wednesday morning to discover that there were 13 prisoners in the cells. Our cells were legalised so that remand prisoners could be held overnight, having been brought to Hawick from prison to appear in court the next day. They could also serve sentences of up to 7 days duration in our cells, which had to be inspected annually by H.M. Inspector of Prisons. Hawicks rural nature dictated that we required to have legalised cells, and the only others in Scotland I can recall were Lerwick on Shetland, and Kirkwall on Orkney.

I was advised by our computer technicians in Edinburgh that 4 of the custody reports relating to the prisoners in our cells were stuck in the system, and the Fiscal had not received them. When that happened I had to try and get hard copies of the reports and fax them to the Fiscals office, so that he could read them.

I was about to start the process when my door opened and a senior Administrator told me that due to sickness I would be required to drive the prison van and also act as court officer at Duns Sheriff Court. I told her that wasnt possible, and several minutes later she arrived back saying that the Superintendent had directed I was to carry out her instruction.

I advised her that I wasnt feeling too well myself, but would be capable of doing my own job only. She disappeared again and returned telling me that the Superintendent had ordered me to drive the prison van and act as court officer.

I therefore put on my civilian jacket and walked out of HQ saying that I was off to consult with my doctor. When the doctor saw the state I was in he immediately signed me off work for two weeks. He suspected I had suffered a Transient Ischaemic Attack (mini-stroke), and had signed off one of my colleagues (the police gaoler) with the same condition a few weeks before. The absence of the sick gaoler was one of the reasons I was ordered to try and perform three tasks at once on the morning concerned.

After that they treated me with kid gloves until I retired. The Procurator Fiscal at Duns had telephoned repeatedly asking to speak to me about the 4 stuck reports, and had to release all 4 prisoners concerned, as there were no reports available for them and nobody else could operate the computer systems required.

After I returned to work the Chief Superintendent took me aside and said I had created a lot of problems on the day concerned. I advised him that if I could deal with custody reports, be a prison van driver, and court officer all at the same time, then I should be on at least twice the money he was. I also advised him that my doctor considered that I was being overworked due to inadequate manpower levels, and at that stage he threatened to remove me from my post and put me back onto operational duties. I advised him that I would gladly accept his offer, but when he realised that not a single officer in the division was prepared to take over from me, I was allowed to continue in post until I retired.

The guy who took my job when I retired was one of the new wave disabled officers with a back complaint whom they couldnt sack, and they had to buy him an orthopaedic chair. After he had been in post for 6 months he also demanded an assistant to cope with his workload, which he got.

Some years after I had retired from the police I was driving a bus into Edinburgh when my old Chief Superintendent boarded to attend a night out. He asked me why I was doing such a demeaning task as driving a bus, and I simply advised him that they only required me to do one job at a time, so it was an easy task. He never spoke to me again, and the next time he travelled with me he pretended that he didnt know me.

 

[Stephen Hawkins]

Hi John,

As you know, I was involved in stuff that I can't write about on a public forum, which is why I stick to things that I did before promotion.

Between then and my later job as DTO, nobody knew exactly what I was doing, or where I was meant to be.
Rank was not as important during this period and with this group of men, as we all worked together on a first name basis.

The high ranking officers who make the most of their rank tend to be the ones who have done the least. I still regularly bump into a former Ch Supt who I worked with on serious crimes, and we are still Mick & Steve. Our respect is mutual and is based on what we know about each other.

Some, perhaps even most, police promotions are based on factors which have nothing to do with ability. People with poor or non-existent talent are therefore promoted way beyond their ability, while the really talented officers only reach middle ranking positions.

Subordinate ranks can plainly see who the talented ones are, and act accordingly. Superior ranks also know where the real talent is, and they know it isn't with them.

What I am saying is that reputation (a good reputation, that is) is often all you need to get your way in the service. Senior ranks usually just left me to my own devices, knowing that it would all work out in the end.

Kind Regards,

Stephen.

 

[maugein96]

Stephen (or Secret Steve),

I was once involved in a joint French/Spanish/Scottish Interpol enquiry which was Top Secret, and I wasn't supposed to talk about it, which I've never done. However, I've written about it.

In the early 90s Lord Rosebery was a prominent landowner and lived on the Dalmeny Estate on the south side of the River Forth in Scotland. His close neighbour, Lord Linlithgow, lived on the nearby Hopetoun Estate. Both of them assumed that the local Constabulary were their lackeys to be called in at a moment's notice to attend to their issues. Further to that, Tam Dalyell, a socialist politician of noble descent, also lived on my beat at the House of the Binns, a historic dwelling in West Lothian. His ancestors had systematically banished my ancestors to Ireland in the 17th century (but he did not know that). He also took the view that the police were his serfs to comply with his bidding.

Interpol contacted me and asked me to speak with Lord Rosebery regarding a painting which was catalogued as being in his inventory, but had turned up for sale in a Paris art auction, and depicted a Spanish scene involving a bullfighter. The Spanish Police believed the painting had been stolen from Madrid, and had paperwork relating to it which connected it with Lord Rosebery.

After a brief enquiry it was established that the painting had been gifted to a relative of Lord Rosebery, who had become impecunious and was therefore obliged to sell it. Consequently Lord Rosebery had no claim to it and no crime was committed.

Lord Linlithgow voiced concern that the police had been ineffective in addressing the issue of deer poachers on his estate, but his gamekeeper had the unfortunate trait of trying to be "Rambo", and the poachers effectively went to war with him. When his firearms inventory came up for review we ascertained that two weapons he declared were in his armoury were actually in possession of his gamekeeper. We advised him that his firearms licence was going to be revoked as a result of our check, and he made the usual telephone calls to Police HQ. He managed to save his licence, but we had taken possession of all his firearms and it took him a while to get them back.

Then Tam Dalyell telephoned South Queensferry police office and complained about people poaching on his land. I took the call and (jokingly) advised him that the poachers were probably my relatives seeking retribution for his ancestor of the same name banishing them to Ireland because they were Presbyterians.

A week or so later I was happy to accept a posting to the opposite side of the division, as far away from Tam Dalyell and the two big Lords as possible. I was advised that it was in my best interests, and said I'd miss my old pals Tam and the two Lords, but I was sure they'd get used to me not being there.

I found myself in a world of ex coalminers, career criminals, alcoholics and drug abusers. I finally realised I had "come home", and never used the word "sir" again until I finally transferred to the Scottish Borders.

I never worked as an "undercover" officer, but knew a few who did. Their wives were generally intolerant of such adventures, and divorce was rife.

 

[Corsaire]

Stephen

Promotion isnt the be all and end all in the job : As soon as you rise above the rank of PC, you risk being spat upon from above and below. Being a rural beat officer, particularly female, has many benefits regarding autonomy but the downside is you get jobbed for gaoler duty if theres a female in custody.

One of the fun bit was dressing up and wearing wigs to avoid being recognised ! The old trick of putting something inside your shoe to give you a peculiar walk was handy if you knew you werent likely to run anywhere. And adopting a Glasgow accent in England was useful on the phone.

 

[maugein96]

One of the fun bit was dressing up and wearing wigs to avoid being recognised ! The old trick of putting something inside your shoe to give you a peculiar walk was handy if you knew you werent likely to run anywhere. And adopting a Glasgow accent in England was useful on the phone.

Sally,

Having a Glasgow type accent was a major disadvantage for me throughout my service on both sides of the border. Weegies are not really the favourites of Edinburgh and Borders types, and ever other street beggar in Brighton had an accent like mine. I was glad of that, as at least I had something to fall back on if the cops booted me out.

I never got to wear shoes to work. My whole service was spent as a bunnet and boot wearing street cleaner, except for the last 5 years when I worked in an office. Even then I think I still had a couple of pairs of boots to wear out.

My first beat in Brighton was a pedal cycle and cape job, but at night my semi rural beat was covered by a mobile car patrol, so I either had to leave the helmet and cape in the police box, and wear a flat hat, as part of the car patrol, or walk a busier foot beat with another cop, who was from Cardross, in Dunbartonshire. He was Jock 1 and I was Jock 2. The shift inspector was Irish, but they never called him Paddy 1, for some reason, and the two Welsh guys were both addressed by their first names.

One older guy had a bad back and couldnt walk or cycle the huge beat he had covering two big Brighton housing estates. They let him use his own car, a blue Triumph Herald estate, and he got paid a fuel allowance. He was a remnant from Brighton Borough Police, where such arrangements had been permitted. Only stipulation was he wasnt supposed to convey prisoners in the car. Imagine that arrangement today? I do believe it still exists on some of the islands, but not in a place the size of Brighton.

Wigs, or rather toupees, were once a very common accessory of French accordionists. It was a crime to be prematurely bald or grey in France and I believe Marcel Azzola will maybe now be on his 20th wig. He suddenly went from having a receding hairline to a carpet weavers model in no time at all. His playing never changed and probably got even better. Maybe if Id tried the same.....? Verchuren appears to have bought all the Grecian 2000 in the world and I reckon he used it all in one go. He had the blackest hair Ive ever seen.

 

[Stephen Hawkins]

Hi Sally,

My undercover garb included Jeans, a Snoopy T Shirt and a Woolworths Carrier Bag with a brick in it. I'm sure you can easily imagine the various uses a carrier bag with a brick inside it can be put to, and it often was.

Brick related injuries were commonplace, but being a good report writer always trumped being a dumb villain. Anyway, the people I was aiming at would have had no compunction about harming a cop, so it was always my policy to hit back first.

The warning "mind your fingers" was issued only after the cell door had been slammed shut.

You are right about promotion, yet there is something sinister about much better officers not receiving promotions which less able officers get. We had an Inspector who couldn't find his backside with both hands, but he got promoted in-spite of being intellectually challenged. (and nasty with it)

Kind Regards,

Stephen.

 

[Corsaire]

Stephen

Promotion may be the only way to get some people off the ground !

Ah, yes, the brick - isnt that what some women carry in their handbags ??! The trusty maglite served better than a baton (I only ever used mine to break windows !) as there was never a report to write for its use.

John - Yvette Horner had the most amazing coloured hair ....

 

[maugein96]

John - Yvette Horner had the most amazing coloured hair ....

Sally,

I know. It took her so many tries to get it the same shade as mine that I eventually told her what the secret was.

Buy a Jimmy wig, and just cut the bunnet bit aff!





See You, Jimmy!

Musette and Vanity were two inseperable elements of the French accordion world. Bald guys like Loulou Legrand, Louis Corchia, and Marcel Azzola (who is now on grey wigs) suddenly sported flowing locks after a few days absence from the stage, and Bruno Lorenzoni was an exponent of the song Comb over to my place

 

[Corsaire]

Comb over to my place

Well, the best comb over has to be this one :

 

[Stephen Hawkins]

Hi Sally,

Many a vicious thug has been subdued by the judicious use of a well swung brick/carrier bag combo, and I can only hope that the practice I perfected is still in use today.

It is possible to reason with most people, thus avoiding any need to slug them with an improvised "pacifier." Unfortunately, the gangsters I was dealing with at the time were mindless psychopaths, who had no concept of fairness or social responsibility.

They certainly could not function at a cerebral level, leaving physical intervention as the only possible way to stop them from maiming or killing innocent citizens.

Oh, and you made them late for work, but that was a good thing.

Kind Regards,

Stephen.