• What You Measure is What You Get.

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  • 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.
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    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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    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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    When there is no answer to your problem, there is always deflection from the need to justify giving an answer.

Exceedingly noisy invitations.

We had several calls of kids up to mischief, climbing over fences into compounds, trying doors, trying to lever open windows,  the sorts of stuff that they get up to on the road that leads to that first caution followed by a criminal record and the journey through the legal ineffectual system that teaches too many that it seems OK to commit offences as you never really get punished for anything. By the time they have been through all the nothingness of liberal hand wringing they are devoid of any meaningful concern over this thing referred to as punishment. They are seldom punished, called to account for their actions or face up to the responsibility for the offences they commit. These pillars of the Britannia underclass society range from early teens to mid twenties, have never worked or considered working for a living when the tax payer supports them in such a grand and systematic way.

Not 10 minutes since I have left the industrial estate on the edge of the Britannia Estate there is a further call that 3 of the Britannia’s finest have climbed over the gates into the compound of blah blah printers and are trying to force one of the windows with what looks like a long screwdriver. It-is a bank holiday long weekend and the places are shut up for a mini holiday. I just know we will not be able to get hold of a key-holder and some poor sod faces hours of interesting scenery until boarding up can arrive.

As the details hit the airwaves I know exactly where the scene is located. The narrow lane at the back is one of my regular ramble routes around the estate on nights. I turn the van around and head towards the estate for the short distance until I approach one of the junctions that lead into the estate. I have opted for the swift but silent approach to give me at least an opportunity of catching someone.  The last few jobs have either been the usual no hopers or no confirmed offences but some useful intel.

To my horror not only can I see the fast approaching in the opposite direction the exceedingly keen PC Kipling but I can also hear the exceedingly noisy PC Kipling arriving in all his siren, wailing glory. This is much to my disgust and annoyance. He is sending out invitations to get away.

To avoid his over-enthusiastic urge to get to the scene first I allow him to scream into the junction and head off for the scene, I follow until I get to where I know how to get to the area where I really need to be out on foot, dog loose and running by my side for the narrow lane at the back. He just knows that something exciting is going to happen.

On the radio I hear the excited tone tell me I have gone the wrong way, which I respectfully and tactfully ignore. Suddenly I am there, at the back, with a full view of the rear of blah blah printers, close by one of the doors that gives the easiest exit in case of emergencies, but with a clear and unobstructed view of the other back door.

PC Kipling makes an exceedingly overt arrival at the front, as he and his oppo are climbing the gates they see movement inside one of the windows and head for the wide open metal casement. I am thankful for my local knowledge and covert arrival procedures.

Within seconds I can hear shouting and the sound of crashing from inside. Some of the Britannia’s burglary exit relay runners are making their way through the building and if Kipling and his mate are coming in through the front it-is a fair shout that the enemy within will shortly be out the back.

As the fire doors crash open I begin to shout, this is over the sound of the one with the teeth barking and snarling as well, the team in perfect harmony. The three are off, followed by my mate followed by me. The one who actually saw the dog stopped as though his life depended on something rather important. It was important.

The other two continued, despite another shout until something told them that pain was only a few short strides from calling on them. This sort of pain does introduce itself in the normal fashion. It arrives, suddenly, unexpectedly and as a bit of a shock. It most definitely arrives. As if by some weird sort of fate,both turned round, put their hands high in the air as though I was pointing a rather large and deadly firearm in their direction. I was surprised and disappointed. I had not sent them an invitation. They were immediately surrounded by the growling, barking and snapping dervish.  Never have I seen one dog contain two persons so well and completely. They never moved and I swear I could hear their arseholes twitching. I cuffed the one who had stopped and got him onto the ground with a suitable warning and then ran the short distance to the two corralled by the dervish.

I recalled the dog, holding him by the collar escorted the two twitchers back to the other on the ground and got them to join their mate. The three down on the floor in perfect harmony.

Within seconds Kipling and his mate ran out of the back into the lane.

Three for burglary, none of them searched, all yours. 18, 18 & 16. Three of Britannia’s finest down for a spot of B & B at one of the Queen’s finest lodging houses.

Kipling is well chuffed, three more for his statistics and to process. He takes that challenge seriously.

I’m chuffed because the things I have learnt over twenty odd years have paid off again.

Between us we have again some decent support for District and at least one of them appreciates what we do to try to help out. I see the Sarge as I leave the nick and he gives me that knowing nod that tells me everything I need to know. We are appreciated but not left alone by outside forces to do what we do best and what our ‘customers’ want. Even the Sarge is a ‘customer’.  I know he appreciates because we are becoming like one of his response team.  It gets like that after a while. 

I am happy, the dog is happy because I am happy with him. The feeling is impossible to explain and is one of the reasons why I have the best job within one small part of this Policing thing. I enjoy the hunt. That is what we do, me and my mate, together.

It-is things like this that make everything worthwhile and help me to deal with all the people who piss me off by making the job much harder than it should be. 

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8 Responses

  1. Nice one mate – I wish we had enough available dog handlers around here for one to have local knowledge, let alone feel part of a response team.

    The dog crews we have spend their time flying from one end of the met to the other – it’s not as unusual as it should be to have two dog vans covering the whole of North or whole of South London, dependant on circumstances.

    This means sometimes there are two dog handlers covering a population of four to five million people… two and half million each.

    it’s not an easy job you boys and girls do!

  2. I wish. Every time I call for a dog handler they are at the other end of our rather large Force area. We would love to have more. When they are on hand though, they can be great. Dragging TWOCers out of hedges in the dark, frightening stroppy crowds into cowed submission.

    Good job.

  3. Love the way your furry friend can spot the bad guys and his enthusiasm for his job must give you a lot of pleasure.

    Good to get the chance to cut through all of the bullshit and just do the job for which you signed up.

  4. Nice one team.

  5. Great Incident mate. You cant explain that feeling to anyone.

  6. The above description is one of the best handlers have, the best is when they go to ground and are lost. Only to be located by the best work partner you could ever have.
    Good effort to you both.

  7. I love when you write about some of your calls with your partner. It must be kind of fun to see the looks on those bad boy’s faces when they are introduced to your fur covered razor blade. Good job!

  8. I missed this post WEB, but it made me laugh – everyone big, small, armed or unarmed fears the Landshark.

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