• What You Measure is What You Get.

    Einstein : Not everything that can be counted counts. And not everything that counts can be counted.
  • About me.

    I know enough to know that at 04.00am it gets dark out on the streets. It has done this for the last twenty odd years, to my knowledge and will probably continue for the forseeable future. At some stage in this ‘future’ I shall retire and probably won’t give a damn if it still gets dark at 04.00am. Until then I shall be out there, somewhere, lurking in the shadows because someone, somewhere will be doing stuff they shouldn’t and then, well then I will introduce myself. In the meanwhile I shall try to remain sane and remember why I joined in the first place and try to ignore all the people who piss me off by making the job more complicated than it should be.
  • Opinions

    Any opinions contained in posts are mine and mine alone. Many of them will not be those of any Police Force, Police Organisation or Police Service around this country. The opinions are based on many years of working within the field of practical operational Police work and reflect the desire to do things with the minimum of interference by way of duplication for the benefit of others who themselves do not do the same job. I recognise that we all perform a wide range of roles and this is essential to make the system work. If you don’t like what you see remember you are only one click on the mouse away from leaving. I accept no responsibility for the comments left by others.
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  • C.T.C. Constabulary.

    A Strategic Community Diversity Partnership. We are cutting bureaucracy and reducing the recording of target and monitoring related statistics. Our senior leaders will drive small, economical cars from our fleet surplus to save money to invest in better equipment for our frontline response officers. We are investing money to reinstate station canteens for the benefits of those 24/7 response officers. We have a pursuit policy. The message is that if you commit an offence and use a vehicle, we will follow you and stop you if necessary. It is your duty to stop when the lights and sirens are on. We take account of the findings of the Force questionnaire and are reducing the administration and management levels and returning these officers to frontline response duties. We insist on a work-life balance. We have no political masters. We are implimenting selection processes that take account of an individuals skills and proven abilities for the job. Our senior leaders will have one foot in reality and still possess the operational Policing skills they have long forgotton about and seldom used. All ranks are Police Officers first and specialists second. We will impliment career development and performance evaluation monitoring of our leaders by those officers who operate under that leadership. The most important role is that of Constable. All other roles are there to positively support the role and the responsibility of Constable and the duties performed.
  • Whichendbites

    “We trained very hard, but it seemed that every time we were beginning to form up into teams we would be reorganised. I was to learn later in life that we tend to meet any new situation by reorganising. It can be a wonderful method of creating the illusion of progress while creating confusion, inefficiency and demoralisation.”......Petronius
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  • Reality.

    Only in our dreams are we free. The rest of the time we need wages.
  • Rank V’s Responsibility

    Don't confuse your idea of how important you are with the responsibility of your role.
  • Meetings.

    If you had to identify, in one word, why we will never achieve our full potential, Meetings would be that word.
  • There is always a bigger picture.

    When there is no answer to your problem, there is always deflection from the need to justify giving an answer.
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One of the better nights.

I’m driving around an area that has been hit hard with burglaries during the night. The crime analyst shows us that the offences are between 1900 and 0400, thats 7pm and 4am in old money. I have just moved from one series of lanes, alleyways and footpaths towards another. I narrow the times down to changeover and perceived grub times.

My radio crackles into life…………”burglary in progress at number 46, occupier away on holiday, neighbour has heard smashing glass from the rear and can hear noises inside”

I stop, quickly, silently as I can despite the pile of deisel shite I’m in, kill the lights and think quietly to myself ‘pinch me’. I tell comms where I am and then PR off. Even right down low it makes too much noise. Certainly too much noise for the sharp hearing senses of the intruder.

I look to the side, can’t see any numbers of the houses but must be close. Me and matey are out low profiling along the walls, I see a number, its 26, christ I can’t believe how close I am. Ten houses away, lucky for me, I am on the right side of the road, even luckier. Get to 46, front gate open, dim light moving inside and shadowy figure moving throught the glazed door. I’m in through the gate, along the side of the house towards the back door, matey begins to whine, he knows something is about to happen. Dogs can sense things like this.

As I get to the back door, which has been pushed closed but not shut, matey boy in sorting through stuff on the kitchen worktop. I decide I can get through the door into the kitchen and his only route out will be through the door into the hallway which is open. I consider waiting until someone is at the front. Bingo, he closes the door to get something out of a cupboard.

Now is the time for my introduction. My boot goes onto the centre rail of the door, which crashes open, matey boy tries to run but his feet seem glued to the spot, several yards seem like half a mile but he is mine. I shout, my mate shouts too, in his own way, suddenly its that look again, the one that I know. My mate is right there, in an instant. The eyes are the windows into the mind and once the realisation is clear that hospital attention is a worse alternative than a cosy small room, a few signatures and free meals I am in control. My mate hates dwelling burglars as much as I do. Compliance is the only choice, exactly. He’s on the floor, safe unless he decides to try to escape or decides to have a pop. I tell him what will happen if he doesn’t comply. The deterrant is only inches away, and he knows. He’s on the floor until the response arrive to search him and his baggage, we’ve hit the jackpot. Gear from several breaks including from a mate of colleague.

Repeat dwelling burglar, breaches bail on more than one occasion and still gets the luxury of his liberty to allow him to continue to burgle peoples homes. They are not houses they are homes. He has no respect for this, he doesn’t care for this, he does what he needs to do to get his sorry ass through the next day after he trades his booty for what is important to him. He has neither conscience nor remorse, they relate not to him. He is driven by other demons that he tries to justify the unjustifiable. Suddenly, to some, he appears to be the victim. Some people feel sadness for him, even sorry for him. The offender is the drug, not the person.

Not so the people who have had him inside their homes, not them, definately not them.

Something is seriously wrong for this to be the case. But later that morning I know I won’t sleep well. I’m too excited to sleep. Last night will have been one of the better nights. Another night’s pensionable service. This one certainly was.


One Response

  1. Ah its mint. I have a post already written about what I think of nights like this (I’m trying to space them out a bit, give people a chance to comment on new stuff)


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