Catamongstthepidgeons

Hodilades

2006-07-20T01:06:00.000+01:00

Orf to Norfolk to find me ancestors ! back in three weeks or so - never if I win the lottery
Ciao

Animal Cruelty

2006-07-18T10:51:00.000+01:00

Old Scary does spark memories - Can't remember whether I have already dragged this one out of its quiet retirement or not. But - anyway - here goes.
A couple of colleagues were called to an "animal RTA" - caller said he had hit a cat whilst driving down a local road. He had stopped but the cat had disappeared. He thought it may be hurt as he was going at a fair speed on impact. Now according to the definition in the Road Traffic Act, hitting a cat is not one of the "recordable" accidents under statute therefore it did not have to be entered in all manner of long and complex forms and registers that were extant. So off the brave duo go with thoughts of an easy job - no paperwork !! Arriving in the vicinity they start a bit of a search down the side of the road - and sure enough they see a mangy, half blind sort of elderly cat staggering about on three and a half legs through the bushes. One of the good old boys says - "Poor old thing, I'll put it out of its misery", pulls out his trusty truncheon (in those days we had a "turned" wooden, polished truncheon with a leather strap !) then proceeds to "peg" it one, and, sure enough, poor old cat expires. Wraps it in old large evidence bag and puts into boot of panda, to take to local vet to "dispose" of. Thinking job done they were just about to take off when they were approached by a little old lady - "Have you seen my little old pussy?"
(exteremely crude, and extraneous comment removed) The boys reply in the negative.
At this point a young and fairly sleek cat staggers out of the bushes and collapses and dies infront of them - by the state of it, its obviously been in an accident. "This one?", one asks the old girl "No she says, Old pussy was a bit mangy, half blind and staggered about on three and a bit legs". Exit the boys stage left looking elsewhere and whistling innocently !!! Sorry - not seen it - Oooops ! She never did find it !
another police cover up
cheers
mystic

I Hate Jeremy 'Kin Clarkson

2006-07-17T15:59:00.000+01:00

Rant from sad caravanner - Having watched, what is normally my favourite programme of the week "Top Gear" last night I found myself getting more and more heated up with Jermey's increasingly juvenile prattlings about caravans. I can normally live with his abberations but last night was the last straw. What he apparantly does not seem to realise is that some of the great unwashed think he is being entirely serious and that such things as setting light to caravans, reversing into people's awnings and holding up traffic are being done for real and not "staged" for effect - GRRRRRR! Also the piece about accelerating out of a "snake" is not only wrong but can be extremely dangerous if tried - the man is a complete Twat !
Going off to cool down before I say something I may regret
looking back in anger
mystic

Ode or Odd ??

2006-07-13T00:30:00.000+01:00

I thought for a time
I would blog in rhyme
but perhaps it's crass
to sit on my A**s
and pontificate
about the state
of my life
whilst being "on line"
She who must be obeyed was once the Secretary of the Balinese Cat Society, and one of her duties was to produce a quarterly magazine. This had helpfull articles, Cat Show results and other literary gems. As with all such publications there were never enough articles to fill the pages - so muggins here started writing "Pomes"- Being a Literary snob I tried to use all manner of tricks from Blank verse to iambic pentameter - but mostly ended up with limericks !!Which appeared to be the most popular with them punters - The fact that we bred cats (siamese, balinese and devon rex) is the reason I ended up being the "Mog" and the good lady who did the fortune telling completed the other half of my tag - so there you are ! Any way I hear you ask - what relevance has this to blogging - none at all says I but it satisfies my pretensions and one day I hope to collect all my gems, and get herself (who really is a talented artist) to illustrate it. I keep reading other blogs, whose authors have written books - so like most of us in cyber world I harbour the secret thought of being the next Thurber (or in my case very probably Walter Mitty!!)
Ah well crack another bottle of Pomeroy's ordinary
swing the lamp and I'll tell you another war story
cheers
mystic

Prisoners !

2006-07-11T23:20:00.000+01:00

Reading through one of the Service Blogs (Brian's brief encounters) where he arrested Osama Bin Laden reminded me of one of our finest hours. The day we took the first prisoner of the Gulf War !! It so happens that on our patch is the Royal Military College of Science at Shrivenham. This August establishment has long term engineering and Science courses for officers from countries all over the world. Lo and behold there was an Iraqi Major on a course there. As soon as hostilities were about to be announced a telex arrives from "Them in London" To go capture this enemy alien immediately - if not before. So boots and saddles two village bobbies in a somewhat ancient ford escort whiz off - all right - crawl off to where the chap had rented a house for his two year course. Strangely enough he was there - sitting on his suitcases, having sent his family off to relatives - all ready to go - He seems quite happy to be arrested and interned for the duration - can't for the life of me think why !! We never got a medal for this !
rats
evenin all
Mystic

The Silly Season

2006-07-10T07:10:00.000+01:00

Well peeps the silly season is officially upon us. The weather is warm enough for the hoi poloi to be out drinking themselves into insensibility and the barbies are out causing fires. Food poisoning in all directions (at least two staff off sick with"upset tummies" ! ) A selection of the seasonal offerings - "The smoke from the neighbour's barbie is ruining my washing" (at 9 o'clock at night ??) "The party has been going on for at least two hours now - I want the music stopped immediately!" "England has been knocked out of the World Cup now but my neighbour refuses to take his flags down" - Heigh Ho - plus la change etc !
PS I wonder what he said to Zinadine to provoke that reaction !
cheers
mystic

Not Cricket !!

2006-07-03T22:43:00.000+01:00

Just back from a jolly nice week away in me sad caravan. Spent a few days on the river bank at Radcot in a really super location known as the "Cricket Bat" field. This not because they play cricket on it - but, as the name actually implies it has lots of Willow trees - which they cut down and make cricket bats out of ! When we were last there the trees were large and majestic (some 8 or 9 years ago - now rows of stumps with lots of smaller willows and only a few of the larger ones - They been harvesting them trees - and after I had told all and sundry that the field was shady with the rows of trees ! All manner of cock ups- the upshot being me voted as the "Wally of the Weekend" - for which I got a nice little plaque and the tenure of the "Wally" cup for the weekend ! First of all I made a "Big" spelling error on the letter we give to all the ralliers ! Then brought the wrong leads for the stereo set (muzac for the masses for the Saturday night social)
Aside "Did you know I have a criminal record?" "Yes - Des O'Connor's Greatest Hits !!"" "Boom Boom - It gets worse - So anyway had to park up Big Ange by the marquee and use the enormous, high quality, CD player they put in Range Rovers (along with the 14 Harmon Kardon Speakers etc) - Lucky they did not want it too loud or it would have flattened the battery !
As it was, it was fine until I hooked up the van on Sunday evening, started the drive home and put on the stereo - AAARGH - forgot to change the CDs in the cassette - and was not gently chilled by the dulcet tones of Lemmie from Motorhead - but the best of Riff Pilchard and the Shadblots - great Zot - nearly drove into the river. Great weekend though (other than the Footy !) Lots of boats making their way to the Pub at Radcot - which had a big projection TV in a marquee in the garden - All the boats on the way down covered in bunting and St George flags and none on the way back !! Nuff said!
back to the grindstone - or as the old joke says
"Tea break over lads, Back on your heads"
Evenin all
Mystic

Stop Press

2006-06-26T22:53:00.000+01:00

Reading through the Scary Duck linked logs (as you do) I came across Razzamataz = Read what he says about a burglary - and the comments thereto
This is what we are up against - We are doing our best - I don't know what Police force area he lives in but - take my word for it - It don't happen here ! - and the more people read - the more they believe
I am now going to bang my head against the wall - it's nice when it stops
mystic

Send Police Quick - He's got a Weapon !

2006-06-26T20:41:00.000+01:00

The proliferation of "service" blogs is amazing - one minute there's only a couple of us and we're all worried about the powers that be closing us down ! The next thing you know "David Copperfield" is being quoted in the Times and all manner of Coppers, Control Room Staff, Specials et al are "at it like rabbits" Good thing too - for too long we have been the Silent Service- No Comment was the official line - There are some great stories out there. I was reading one of the new ones - Extra Special Constable - He was talking about a subject dear to the heart of all of us in the Control Room world. The caller that makes it up. I used to be a Village Bobby, before the great retirement in the sky gave me 3 weeks off before starting back in the Control room as a Civvie. One of the major parts of the job was talking to the various "groups" in the village - WI. Rotary, Masons. PTAs etc., and one of the main themes was "What should I call 999 for" Being, in those days a caring and concerned type I used to give advice about suspicious types hanging about - not just bunches of local kids playing footie or just being a bit noisy - just let me know and I'll talk to them and or their parents. Any disorder, which included any sort of Weapon - knives, baseball bats, hockey sticks etc was an immediate 999 please ! You can see where this is going ! On the days when I was not available - even plod gets a holiday now and again - some of the locals would have enough of the little darlings and start to call in on 999 as they knew the village bobby was not available. When they got the standard answer of - "We will take a message and pass in on to your local contsable when he is next on duty" - The next call was "I think at least one of them has a weapon of some sort" Guaranteed result ! - Although not quite as bad as the "Blues and Twos" addicts Who make malicious calls quoting the magic word "Gun" or sus package just to see the pretty blue lights and the Whoopy Doos. One of the really difficult jobs of the call taker is just that - sorting the wheat from the chaff - You get to know the real caller rather than the bogus caller - and 90% of the time get it right ! - But as the exception is bound to prove the rule - one day you will get it wrong and the entire hindsight mob (20/20 !!) or as the americans so cogently call it Monday morning Quarterbacking" will grind in to action and no matter what the outcome the call taker is going to be the one jumped up and down on !
Keep the faith kids and remember
ITS ALL YOUR FAULT
cheers
mystic

GRRRRRRRRR

2006-06-24T07:54:00.000+01:00

Another weekend of “World Cup Mayhem” – As usual, too many jobs, too few people to take the calls – let alone deal with the jobs! Hey ho – had a few days chill – so “once more unto the breach dear friends” etc the great thing about our current shift system is just that – You get four days down time. Pity its all going to change in the New Year. Still – minor giggles – 999 call from the proverbial lady locked in the lavatory – spent a while trying to sort it out – It transpired she was trying the wrong door to get out! Some of the CCTV footage of the anti social types performing on Saturday night aught to make the “Police Action” TV shows anyway – I wonder who gets the fees for the tapes? – Won’t help our budget anyway
As I have often mentioned we have the local Football Club at the end of our road, and as again I have often mentioned they have the dreaded “teenage” discos. I have never seen so many loud, drunken scantily clad teenage girls in my life. Tried to take the dog out before going to bed and there were girls throwing up, throwing bottles, throwing their extremely loud voices and throwing their micro mini skirted bodies about. Boys carrying 6 packs of cans and behaving like a pack of wild dogs. The usual litter and damage to gardens. They tell me that they don’t allow drink in the premises
Fine ! They just come to the Old swimming pool car park and let it all hang out – literally in some cases. Got dog walked and went to bed and tried to sleep (up at 0500 for earlies) – Ignoring shrill screams and smashing glass managed to get to sleep about midnight ! – Then one of the little darlings managed to set the neighbour’s house alarm off!! – They are away, and, as I am fully aware of the new alarm triage policy – unless there is an obvious break in or it is a “key holder” alarm company alarm – no one will come !! – Thank the ultimate being – it only went off for half an hour by which time she who must be obeyed and I were thoroughly awake !! – Ripped my pump mask off in temper and went to sleep without it ! – Woke up to alarm going, madam snoring and feeling like something I picked up in the dog pooper scooper !
So am at work now – snarling at all and sundry !
I HATE YOU ALL
Grumpy old Mog

Further Muppet Musings

2006-06-23T07:41:00.000+01:00

Being a sad sort of muppet – great Charlotte Church advert – sounds triff ,with a Welsh accent – sorry touch of the Ronnie Corbett’s again ! I have a 30 odd minute drive in to work passing through the picture scew (my dear old departed mum always thought that was how it was pronounced !!) Oxfordian countryside
I go over what is reputed to be the oldest bridge over the Thames
(Why is it called New Bridge then ??) Which reminds me of the Civil war – Faringdon was one of the last bastions of the Royalists – Cromwell’s cavalry went over the bridges at Radcot – bit of a dust up there (Sealed knot did a battle re-enactment !!! weird) and Cromwell himself brought the heavy stuff up over new bridge
On to Kingston Bagpuize (for the rich bastards) or Southmoor to the rest of us – Never have quite worked out which bit is which – Although William De Bagpuize was one of ole’ William the Bastard’s
Toadys and got a lot of Oxfordshire for his trouble and put it in the Doomsday book. On past Millets Farm (the sort of UK version of Boone’s Farm without the Strawberry wine) But it has got a Maize maze (don’t ask) Then to Frilford Heath – bleedin expensive Golf club – only played there a couple of times – very nice but a bit like the car insurance advert !! Past “Joscas” Prep School – “Where’d you go to school then Chuck “Joscas. Then on to Stow !!” pretentious gits, never get stuck on a 9-5 shift as the entrance area is stuffed with Chelsea tractors, X5s, Volvos etc – Yah ! I then go though a “Wiggly” bit in Marcham (Must find out what Denman College actually teaches one day) Anyway in the middle of the wiggle – Beloved of the 38 tonners and Artics trying to get through is a small non-conformist “chapel” Which has what I am reliably informed is a “Wayside Pulpit” – one of them boards – usually with some sort of trite homily (Jesus Saves (usually with the Woolwich))
Etc. But – and now the somewhat convoluted point of this entire ramble through the backwoods of my ratpack of a brain is that somehow, somewhere, who ever writes these things has, for the last few months either got a damn good “Ad agency” in or some creative writers as they are beginning to make sense – so much so I actively look for the board now – I read the slogan and the rest of the journey passes in a Zen like state whilst I mull over the words
Latest one – Standard crucifix with the words “Who have you forgiven today ?” – Back to song lines in short circuited brain – Affirmation – Savage Garden “I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned” – Arrive at work to find report that one of the operators has made a “minor admistrative error” (office speak for cocked up big time) Who Have I forgiven – “go and sin no more”
In the quid pro quo of life I expect to win the lottery this week !!
Hey ho
Madness of King George !! I should say so – my word yes
Cheers
Mystic

Its Only me Pursuing somethinng I'm sure of !

2006-06-17T20:28:00.000+01:00

Reading through Scary, as you do, I looked at the “favourite line from songs” log and, without too much thought blasted out an old Dylan line and a bit of a Yaaahooo from Blur. But,as with a lot of Cunning Stunts from the Alastairian pen it gave me further food for thought in the “Shallows of the Night” Boy there are some great lines out there. Being a classic Baby Boomer (took me ages to figure out why there were so many in my class at School) (Work 9 months back from my birthday and you get VE Day – The old man might have managed to put his suitcases down first!!) First of no doubt many digressions ! – Anyway Being a baby boomer I have all the albums of my generation – still a lot of which are on vinyl up in loft = Sgt Pepper, Rumours, Dark side of the moon, Tommy, Bridge over Troubled Water et al. There were some bloody good lines “I get all the news I need on the weather report” – S&G (Only living boy in New York)Most of Pinball Wizard – I’m not sure whether I like the “Elt” version better. Either way Pete Townshend’s classic upsweeping guitar chords still great (not a lot of people know that his windmilling guitar playing almost took the top of one of his puddies !) This surfed me on from lines to great “Riffs” and bits –
The best guitar break ever in the 11 minute live version of Sultans of Swing on the Alchemy album – Fat bottomed girls from Queen – Now I’m Here – quite heavy when played loud – Soft Rock. Lots of REO Speedwagon , Sharp dressed man – ZZ Top. On to Hendrix – Star spangled etc – on to Woodstock and Crosby Stills and Nash etc – one of my all time faves (reminds me of she who must be obeyed) Suite Judy Blue eyes – Mein Gott – Country Joe and the Fish How could one ever forget “Gimme an “F” !”
Third movement of the Michael Hyden Trumpet Concerto – Overture to Marriage of Figaro from Mozart – Bach’s Brandburg Concerti (not a lot of people know that John Lennon said that the trumpet in Penny line was inspired by these !) Ode to Joy from the 9th – Fanfare for the Common man (I love the ELP version best)
Gadzooks – this is worse than Surfing the net
Oye Vay – enough already
Confused of Carterton
Cheers
Mystic

Earwig O Earwig O Earwig O

2006-06-16T07:19:00.000+01:00

As one earwig said to another. Watching the inevitable slide into footy anachy- What is it about the beautiful game and the beautiful booze!! - Reading the blogs of other "Service types" It would appear that we are all in the same boat - drunks, damage,noise, domestics and other anti-social behaviour. This is the 21st century peeps - is there hope ?? (is there honey still for tea??)
Sorry slipped into literary mode for a moment (or as the late great Peter Sellars once famously said - Honeys' off love) Another strange thing is the relationship to the amount of work to the amount of staff - As is always the case "The Management" is cutting staff, bean counting and generally cost cutting whilst demanding ever more work under the guise of "value for money" policing or "rationalisation" or whatever the current buzzword is!! Is there not a strange parallel between us and Education or the Health Service ? Why do the Guvvermint always manage to vote themselves great big pay rises whilst those of us at the coal face seem to get less money and more taxez ! Burst into song at this point "I owe my sole (sic) to the Company Store (can't afford shoes either) - It seems to stretch into infinity this year - Footy, Ascot, Reading Rock
All with leave embargo - so when can we get some time off ??
Heigh ho - rant over for today
cheers
mog

Travels with a Transit

2006-06-10T21:54:00.000+01:00

One of the call takers took a call from a a motorist who had managed to blow his engine by putting diesel in the petrol tank. "How could they do that", she asked ! This sparked a memory. As I said, just recently we have been back in touch with our friends from the Forest of Dean. Well, Steve's son Russell was a squaddie in Germany and had met and decided to marry a German girl. We were all invited to go to Bielefeld to celebrate the nuptials. Being poor we decided to go in a transit, which Steve had hired from a local garage. Orf we jolly well go ! down to the ferry, and off the other side at Calais. Diesel, being the price it is and Russell being in Germany (at this time English service personnel were issued with petrol coupons, which allowed them to buy petrol/diesel at much cheaper rates) he had arranged to meet us at Calais and top up the tank in the van with a load of jerry cans he had in the boot of his nice new BMW !! He had a boot full of jerry cans - some of which had petrol and some of which had diesel ! We get to a deserted part of the huge car park by th Calaise ferry terminal at about midnight and start the top up. You guessed it ! - Russell's fairly brain dead mate got the wrong jerry can out and started pouring diesel into Russell's nice new Beamer ! Doooooh ! There we were in the middle of the night, in the rain, with Steve trying to get under the BMW and undo the drain plug on the tank - lots of bad language, and trying not to notice the large spreading pool of fuel from the draining tank ! - quick kick some sand over it - no one will notice !! Re-fill with petrol, fingers crossed and - phew it worked - great weekend - Russell duly got married and we had a very nice time at the reception etc - back in the Transit for the journey back - half way down the Autobhan and everything begins to get dim - wipers slow down and - red battery light comes on ! Bloody alternators ! - Pull in to garage and try the ADAC (german equivelent of AA)
Man eventually arrives but not much help - rain bucketing down and trying to drive with no windscreen wipers - great - ring ferry - divert to Ostend, but not till next morning. Try to find somewhere to stay the night - go to local NOVOTEL - far to expensive so try to sleep in van in car park. Well, as you may know I have suffered with sleep aponea for years, and at this time had not realised it and was not treated (i.e. no pump) so snored like billyho ! Van full of suffering people trying to doze with me snoring like a very large and happy peeg ! Very unhappy night !
Managed to get the van going in the morning and limped in to Ostend ! - On to ferry - Just to keep the trip going it was a very rough crossing with the ferry unable to make docking for some 5 or 6 hours. Yo ho ho and a bottle of crisps ! Get off the otherside - now all very much the worse for wear and run into an AA man - who takes one look at the recalcitrant beast - makes a few adjustments (which he said any competent patrolman should know about!!) and lo we had lights, wipers and a functioning engine !! This was the final cherry on the top - I can now look back and laugh !!
cheers
mystic

The Cold Winds of Change

2006-06-09T22:15:00.000+01:00

Back in the bad old days when I were one (although I couldn't spell it - very old joke) It probably wasn't common knowledge, but unless you did something actually criminal you had a "job for life" This obviously led to jokes about Eternal flames (never goes out) and Ghurkas (take no prisoners !!) and there were an amazing number of old and not very bold Policemen skulking about the station - walking about with clip boards and looking important and waiting for the golden "25" or "30" - and having joined at 18 this meant a retirement on full pension at a very early age. This is a bit of a convoluted introduction to the fact that as we (Thames Valley) that is - have decided to ignore the nice men in the Home Office and are determined to "Stand Alone" instead of making a nice large regional force by joining with Hampshire. The upshot being that in order to become a strategic force - savings have to be made. Our department will have to make swinging cuts in order to survive. The worst of them being the change of the shift system. A couple of years back we managed to pursuade the powers that be that a four day, 12 hour shift system ( four on, four off) was a good thing - they tried it and Lo, they saw it was good and even the poor trash actually working the system enjoyed it. There may even have to be cuts in staff (without natural wastage !) Coming from the "job for life" background I now feel a very cold wind up me chuff !! - Our boss - like the proverbial football club chairman - saying to the manager "We have every faith in you" - means that you are probably on the way out
Great Zot - what is the world coming to - We tried the fast forward rotating shift - the Ottowa and even the dreaded 6-2, 2-10 and 10-6 - all well known killers - so we wait with bated breath for the next one to be foisted on us
Spare a penny Guv, wife and hungry mortage to support
god bless us all
Mystic

Happy Hols

2006-06-07T11:53:00.000+01:00

Well,
just back from Weymouth and all points east and west. (She who must be obeyed does not like to just sit and chill- we have to visit everywhere within a 100 mile radius) So we went to Lulworth Cove, Bridport Lyme Regis - etc etc etc ! - Funny thing about Lyme Regis - They are completely re-building the beach - JCBs, cranes and very brown, tattooed men in shorts and hard hats - with the obligitory shades and fag ! everywhere. You would have thought that they could have done a bit better planning so that the touristy types could paddle etc rather than look over the railings - First really warm bank holiday of the year - Sign said "This beach will re-open on 31st July" - Weird ! Did a lot of kite flying as it was quite windy - even got my big para sail type one up for a short time - but herself does not like spending time launching kites so had to make to with the self launching sportier types mostly- I am very tempted to try either kite surfing or kite boarding - as soon as I can afford it. My old mate Steve Smyth - of wind surfing fame - of whom I spoke last time has got me interested again - went out to garage and looked at my long race board - being now officially a fat git I don't think my short board would float with me on it !! - Still having internet problems at home so not doing much on the web
Ah well
as the old joke goes "tea break over lads - back on your heads"
evenin all
mystic

Catching Up

2006-05-26T01:01:00.000+01:00

It seems strange now, as I always had something to say - remembered disasters (swing the lamp, pull up a sandbag and I'll tell you some war stories !) But due to my well documented slide into a self pitying depressed, and useless git. I dragged myself back to the keyboard last month but my heart wasn't really in it. However ! We have been out in our sad person's caravan again. We went to the Forest of Dean, to a lovely camp site - very near some old friends at St Briavel's Common. I can't remember if I ever said why they call me Mog - But the reason is that as we (she who must be obeyed that is) and I never had kids - and as we lived in Police Houses for a long time when we first married and were not allowed to breed dogs (like mother in law) we started to breed cats - getting interested first in Siamese and later Balinese and Devon Rex- so I ended up as Moggie ! - Anyway I digress - These friends were, and still are deep into cat breeding - We had a split with the Cat club some years back and lost touch with most of our friends at the time. So with trepidation we decided to visit them whilst in the Forest.
I am so glad we did. ! Back in the day Steve and I used to go windsurfing all over the country and had some really great times - some great BBQs and P***s ups - They have a really great house - overlooking the Wye Valley - the only trouble is it is on a bit of a slope and when you have had a great many beers etc and lean backwards in the chair !! say no more Took years to live it down - The memories came flooding back and have re-invigorated me to the extent that I have taken up the keyboard again and look forward to blogging on a more regular basis
God bless you kind sir
mystic

I think therefore I am

2006-04-29T21:10:00.000+01:00

Or is that putting Descartes before Horace ?? Crawling back up out of the primordial slime into which I sank - or as "she who must be obeyed" says "Have a word with yourself". I don't believe it but it was last November when I last posted anything !! - Have not even read Scary Duck - feeling too sorry for myself and not being able to pay too many bills was worried about being on the net. We have had to change madam's little Jimney for another large 4 x 4 (Norma Jean) the Frontera as Big Ange the range rover is also suffering from depression - electronic air suspension collapsed !! and can't afford repairs yet - But - great news !! Madam has got her old job back - some 10 years ago she resigned in a huff from her job when they put a young uni graduate over her - a young lady who immediately started to tell Madam how to do her job !! - completely cocked up the entire thing and blamed Madam for it ! - Since then Madam has been doing all sorts of temping but latterly some 2 years without steady employment - So the light at the end of the tunnel has been turned back on again !! - feeling almost good enough to get back into the old blogging style
God bless all who sail in her
mystic

Disapearing under the Heap

2005-11-11T18:43:00.000Z

Being back at work is not good ! I really used to enjoy my job - and, without going over the top, I was bloody good at it. Right up until the last three months before the sleeping sickness got me, and I became totally irrational I had run my team, virtually on my own for three years, trained up two new team leaders and encouraged others to take further career steps. I know I've been off for a long time and it takes further time to settle back in But I feel increasingly isolated and marginalised. Decisions that I used to be involved in are now being taken without any reference to me, I am trying to digest new systems and policies brought in whilst I was off - Had an uncomfortable meeting with my line manager who said that some of my team have now lost confidence in my ability to manage them !! All in all I am beginning to believe that I sould start looking for another job ! The finances have also now dropped through the floor - Not just due to the half pay business, which is still not sorted out but She who must be obeyed still has not found a job and I am now overdrawn as soon as I get paid - The bank has stopped paying everything and charged me £400.00 in bank charges - making me further overdrawn !! so in the words of the song "Why does it always rain on me ??" - One of the main reasons I've not been blogging is that they didn't pay my internet subscription !! Hey ho !! rant over
getting depressed again
mog

Slow time back on to the Treadmill

2005-10-07T14:37:00.000+01:00

Well, here I am, back in the thick of it - for 6 hours a day. Occy Health have insisted that I go back to work slowly - two sets at 6 hours, two sets at 8 hours, two sets at 10 hours before going back to straight 12 hour shifts!! Lots of changes - new people coming in, old ones leaving or left. Got the shock of my life - first one I spoke to - "Hi, mate, how's the family ?" "Sean's fine, but the wife has left me" One of the girls on another team has moved in with him and has now moved on to my team !!- Next one I spoke to, "How's the family?", I asked(I should have known better !!!) = "Moved out on the wife" (They'd only married about 6 months before I went sick, and she was heavily preggers) "My partner now has two kids" I was very carefull how I approached the rest of the team Several have left to join the "Job" - Although you would have thought that a couple of years as a Comms Op would have cured anyone of joining the Police !! - But there's no accounting for taste. Have a new Boss, he seems a nice bloke but we shall see. The worst has happened - Got my pay slip this week and - guess what - Half pay ! To stop this I had already rung everyone I could think of last week - finance, personnel, Room Manager etc to tell them NOT to put me on half pay as I was returning - but the bloody "jobs worth" at the pay team said"We can't do anything till we have the paperwork" So rude letters from all and sundry - mortgage not paid etc etc, incurring more bank charges - "When we get the necessary paperwork we will rectify it next month, or the month after" she said - My reply would have been unprintable but remembering that such people are in charge of my pay I just said "Thank you very much" as sarcasticly as possible ! So I get stressed immediately before I even try to book back onto the systems - more on that another day
slightly frayed
mog

Back into the Fray (shortly)!!

2005-09-28T21:04:00.000+01:00

Well, we've been down in Devon (near Ilfracombe) for a couple of weeks. Have not been blogging via the lap top as I had the first bill for the new "internet" mobile - far from the £15.00 per month (and half price for the first six months if you sign up for 18 months rather than 12) the bill was £94.00 !! only the first three times logging on to the internet were free all the other times varied from £2.00 to £20.00 !! and they even charged me for the "information" messages they sent me - I remember why I didn't want a contract phone after the last debacle !!So anyway, I thought I had a chest infection as I was wheezing like a busted kettle. Kept taking cough mixture like it was going out of style but kept on coughing and wheezing. Upshot being I apparantly passed out or even a "petit mal" a couple of times = once whlst having a social evening in our friends' caravan. So off to the Doctor in the morning. Pleasantly surprised that. instead of waiting until the surgery was over (which would of happened at our local Doctor) I was sent round to see the Sister, who called a Doctor and it turned out that I had been having a really first class asthma attack and not a chest infection at all. They even lent me a nebulizer to take massive doses of the ventolin stuff. I looked like a smoking dragon, puffing away. When normal service was resumed towards the end of the week I have re-started using the pump at night and am now managing at least 6 hours (the record is 8 at this time) and am feeling a lot better. Going to the Sleep clinic for a "sign off" visit then to the Doctors and back to work on Monday !! - Its been a long six months and looking back I realise how wound up I had been !
Had a phone call from personnel this week and they informed me that I would be on half pay on the 8th - so I gleefully informed them that I was coming back to work on the 2nd !! Back to work just in time to apply for some leave !
feeling more like the old mog
cheers

Brush With Royalty ?

2005-09-10T21:03:00.000+01:00

One last tale from the PSU before we go on hols (Orf to Devon - cream teas and lashings of ginger beer etc). As previous blogs testify we were getting pretty good as a Police Support Unit and as such were the first one called for any out of force unusual incidents. We were well trained, well equipped and ready for anything. Imagine our delight when we were selected to represent Thames Valley at Prince Charles Wedding to the lovely Diana Spencer. This was major stuff not so much public order, as publicity for the Force. All best uniforms, white gloves, best boots and medals even ! Some of the younger members of the team, who had not been in the Forces often asked what those little bits of ribbon signified on our uniforms - Nice to get the whole thing out of the box, all court mounted GSM. bar and UN medals. Best Boots out of the wardrobe where they had been sitting under a yellow duster for years. Best uniforms on hangers etc we boarded special coaches at some ungodly hour - all being filmed for posterity by a TV crew. Got in to town about 0600 as all the roads were being closed off and the sniffer dog teams were out in force. We were due to eat breakfast at the Bank of America, who had offered to "put us up and feed us" - Great grub - TV crew still following us about - As usual someone had to perform. "Gonzo", as he was known to all got a real tray full of food, forgot he was wearing fully studded "Ammo" boots and did the classic man on ball bearings walk on the highly polished tiles of the restaurant - food, trays and Gonzo everywhere - all filumed in glorious technicolour - No real harm done as he hadn't put his tunic on - quick mop up and laughter all round - release of tension !! - We had been told to fill our pockets with sweets to hand to the crowd as we were going to be there for some hours without moving and we should try and make friends with them etc etc. She who must be obeyed had bought packs of boiled sweets, toffees etc which I dutifully distributed about my person trying to smooth the lumps out. One last brush down, fix medals to tunic, white gloves on and - as this was a really special event - chin strap down a la metropolitan
We have always worn the chin strap stretched round the back of the helmet - no idea why, no one ever told us !! - Fully briefed we marched down and took up our positions along Fleet Street
About twenty yards apart - facing the crowds, some of whom had camped for several nights behind the crash barriers so as to get a good view. Start handing out sweets to all and sundry. Conversations with persons from all corners of the globe ! On my small twenty yard stretch I had persons from America, the continent, the caribbean and glory be, two largish Australian ladies sitting on the biggest cold box I have every seen. "Wot's in the box girls ?" says Mog.
"Wait and see mate" says one of them. We all happily chat for the interminable hours before we get the heads up - We look down Fleet st and can see the procession winding up. Off comes the lid of the cool box "Here mate have a glass", says one of them passing me a champagne flute -
"pop" goes the cork and lo and behold champers everywhere - just time for a quick slurp - hide glass and - although we were told to face the crowd as they came past I'm sure every one had a look wonderful sight - They looked happy and the whole world appeared to be full of cheering crowds. Pity it didn't last but at the time all was well with the world. Back to the Champagne
The ladies kept getting overcome with emotion and "pop" went another cork. I drank an awful lot of champagne that day but for some reason did not get drunk. Got big wet kisses from the two lovely ladies who were in floods of tears and then quick fall in and march back to the coaches and a glorious day was had by all. Best of all was when we got back to the coaches and changed back into jeans and sweat shirts we found that the Inspector (God bless him and his wife and sprogs) had bought crates of beer for all. We had a long, slow, popped up ride back to High Wycombe at the end of one of the best PSU days of my long and undistinguished career !
cheers
mog

Self Mutilation ??

2005-09-07T15:18:00.000+01:00

Continuing the tales of the PSU. I can't remember if I told you about the time my name sake
(same name different spelling though)(Chris Burrows) bit himself in the bum. It was on the Miner's strike in 1984. We had got to the stage where the morning ritual was to meet at one of the big sites for breakfast (Orgreave mainly) as there were some miners still working at this pit and there was almost always a number of strikers there. As there was a huge car park and usually about 6 or 7 PSUs from any number of different forces and we tended to stay there for some hours either waiting for the call elsewhere or an effort to "get at " the non striking miners got underway we started to play a peculiar form of footie. This usually involved 30 or 40 a side with no offside, two transit vans as goal posts, no referee and the only rules I seem to remember was that you didn't actually trample on someone who was down(although when it got a bit dusty and the ball was at the bottom of a pile of bodies it got a bit enthusiastic in the middle of the dust colud). Our PSU at this time was (and I am not ashamed of boasting) one of the best in the country and had all the latest kit. We had "team boots" with steel toecaps, ice hocky shin guards and protective boxes for your "bits" all topped off with a spiffy fireproof black jump suit and imported Smith and Wesson protective helmet. This being so we really got stuck in when it got to footie. One morning, after brekkie we were sitting about by the vans when someone produced the inevitable football - We had two PSUs on site this day so after leaving the drivers and a couple of PCs manning the radios etc about 30 of us "took the field" to challenge all comers. At this time Chris Burrows, who was actually on the other PSU (saved confusion when the bosses were being formal - i.e. when one called for "PC Burrows" only one of us would answer ?)
knowing that things would probably get a bit hairy as two Met battle buses had come in - about 50 of them and there was a grudge match with them (The London Metropolitan Police force always seemed to think that they were the elite for some strange reason and really resented the fact that we were better kitted than them at this time). Anyway Chris, knowing this took his false teeth "plate" out - this was one with bent steel wires which wound round the teeth to keep it in. Things got a little rough under these circumstances - He carfully wrapped them in his hankie (yeuk !!) and stuffed them in the pocket of his jump suit. The game commenced and as usual the ball disappeared into a heap of bodies every one kicking and hacking full bore. Watching professional footie on telly, the pros seem to collapse in writhing heaps in agony after the slightest touch - God knows what they would think of our footy matches (which incidently also went on until the last man standing - no half time etc) and teams varied in size as people dropped in and out for a fag or a drink etc. There being no shortage of blood flowing etc it was a suprise that after the ball moved on there was a solitary figure laying writhing on the ground. This of course gave rise to shouts of "don't just lay there do press-ups" and other sympathetic comments ! After a little while of this we thought we aught to have a look at him so shouted for the team medic (who, being a sensible chap was not playing). He took his little bag over to Chris and turning him over saw the spreading blood stain on the leg of his suit. "Shit" and other expletives - Might be a bit more serious than we thought ! Strip off jump suit down to knees, then face down on stretcher. What's that dirty grey rag covered in blood doing ? using some surgical tongs the medic tried to pull the now identifed hankie out of what appeared to be quite a large wound in the gluteous maximus. "Ere, there's teeth marks - them bastard mets have been cheating and bit him" Rumbles of discontent from a now interested audience of both TVP and METPOL officers all beginning to slowly edge into groups. "Hang on a minute, what this ?" and his uncovering of the wound revealed the top plate firmly sunk into his bum and the bent wires holding it in !! Great easing of tension all round as we all realised that he had bitten himself in the bum with his own teeth (the mind boggles!!) We all started laughing as he was stretchered off to hospital to have them surgically removed !! The game re-started in a much better spirit of comradeship - but still hard fought - in fact I think the Met actually won that day 54 to 51 before we were called out to a different pit. The local press got hold of the story and I think it actually made the national press - "Policeman bites himself in the B**M" stanger than fiction !
cheers
mog

Tales from the PSU

2005-09-05T17:38:00.000+01:00

I mentioned in my previous post that the Police Suport Units(PSUs) evolved slowly but surely into the lean mean fighting machines you see today. When we first started up we had no special uniforms and were transported about in 39 seater coaches. We had special drills for "embussing" and "de-bussing" !! terms evocative of the Service I had not long left - We even marched about in columns of three - a bit military for my taste but we were learning how to be a team so I suppose the old ideas worked ! Our first bit of new kit was a small plastic shield that clipped on to the front of the ordinary helmet - still no velcro straps at this stage. This shield was supposed to protect your eyes if something was thrown at you - that's if the helmet stayed on long enough when you were dodging bits being thrown at you. Then there were the cadets ! - They were employed to be the "enemy" - and really seemed to enjoy their work. When they started slinging things they were really trying to hurt you ! We got more injuries in training than we ever got on the street. The Home Office sent a team to observe our training and they were horrified to find how realistic our training was - Apparantly we were supposed to have tennis balls thrown at us - ??? Big news - Our next installment was the "National" shield The long clip together in three shields. We went to a secret location - RAF Halton - to see the Training team demonstrate these new innovations (not withstanding that most of us were ex Service and all the Army types were used to them - having spent a long time in N Ireland I had seen most of the major cities through the distortion of one of them.) We were lined up to see the demo - a line of three men came out carrying the shields - centre shield plant and left and right clip in. Boot to hold the bottom down and then comes the man with the petrol bomb - throws it at the shield wall - it hits and lo and behold the centre shield starts to disintigrate !! Cue loud jeers from the assembled horde ! It turned out that they had been practicing with these three shields for days and had not read the instructions - They are only good for a few petrol bombs then need replacing. It (as usual) turned out that some of us knew more than the training team about them. On and on - black fireproof suits, Special helmets with bullet proof visors - short shields and long batons,better comms gear, armoured transit vans with grills to stop the bits and pieces thrown at us. A quick diversion into riot city - When the St Paul's riots were on in Bristol, we had similar and large scale race rioting in High Wycombe. We started running at about 6pm and eighteen hours later we were still patrolling. I started driving one of the transits about 9pm and we kept responding all night. Shop fronts going in, cars on fire, general rioting and petrol bombs everywhere ! about 5am I came in to re-fuel with an exhausted group in the back of the van who were asleep even before I stopped by the pumps. The Inspector came over as I was falling asleep whilst holding the hose. "How long have you been driving Mog?" says he "Can't remember" says me. "Go and get a cuppa and a rest for a bit. This is going on for a while longer and I shall need the whole PSU in a couple of hours as we are going to do a sweep through the Octogon". Exit Mog stage left to canteen - finds the rest of PSU stacked in heaps on floor, arm chairs etc, all flaked out ! Five minutes later Station Alarm goes. All suddenly awake and running whilst getting into gear. Down stairs at ramming speed - "What's up ??" someone shouts "Mog's transit has been hit by a petrol bomb, smashed through the grill and front screen- don't think it went off but Mog obviously got a face full of petrol and glass !!" "Aaaaah Mog what are you doing here ???!!" Still dazed and confused I said, "I got relieved 10 minutes ago, Mickys driving" The Inspector had forgotton to update the vehicle board (no computers in those days!!) Took a while to convince everyone that I was ok and it was poor old Micky in Wycombe General getting petrol washed out of his eyes and pieces of glass removed from his physog !When it all settled down late on Sunday evening and we stopped and managed to sort it all out, it appeared that Micky had finished filling the van, loaded fresh troops and out of the Nick down the overpass, round into Frogmoor and straight into a petrol bomb. There but for the grace of the Inspector went I !! I don't think he ever forgave me for that
cheers
mog

Smoking

2005-09-04T11:07:00.000+01:00

This morning I woke up with a dreadful cough - a real lung buster - bringing up all manner of things (I think I saw a small gold ring somewhere !!! - old Army Joke). This got me thinking of the bad old days when I smoked 40 a day. She who must be obeyed and I both smoked like the proverbial chimneys when we were young but due to reasons both of health and finance we had given it up. I managed about 2 years - but - and I know now that she reads my blog from time to time - I did not start again until the fatefull day I went on a Police support unit operation in Brighton of all places. I think it was something to do with Conservative Trades Unions - a conference or such like. Anyway there was intelligence that the "lefties" were going to cause major problems so Police Support units (PSUs) from all forces in the South of England were tasked to attend. Our unit ( one Inspector, two Sergeants and twenty PCs) in our two transit vans were sent to represent Thames Valley (Happy Valley or sometimes Chad Valley (after the toy company) as we were affectionately known by other forces). After briefing we were sent out to line the route of the projected march by the lefties. This lot were really not mucking about. ! They started ripping up paving slabs and started throwing them at us. At this time we had got as having PSUs but had not evolved into the black fireproof suits, visored helmets and armoured vans, and so were wearing our gannex macs, standard helmets (but with velcro straps - a new innovation) and otherwise ordinary uniform. This was obviously not a lot of protection against large lumps of concrete ! - We backed into an alley and were using dust bin lids as shields and I had a deja vu moment of my earlier days in Ireland as a squaddie (we sometimes ended up behind a rampart of bricks etc that had been thrown at us) but we had not yet been issued with the large shields that the army had used. At this point things were getting to the point where we were losing our traditional Policeman's cool (frankly we were getting scared) Our Inspector was radioing for help in no uncertain terms. You may have seen old films of policemen grasping the belt of the next man in front of him and moving as a solid line two lines of men form a wedge and "trudge" forward into the mob forcing them apart like a bow wave - this strange as it may seem is called "trudging and wedging"!! Two Met PSUs formed a large wedge in this fashion and trudged into the mob and got us - but not before we had quite a few cuts and bruises. Felling lucky to be alive we got back into the transit and someone offered me a "fag" - "Thanks", said I without thinking and lit up gratefully. We sat there slowing down and counting limbs etc and coming down when someone said to me "'Ere Mog I thought you had given up smoking ?" "I have", said I blowing smoke out of my ears !! It took another two years of illicit smoking before I finally managed to quit the evil weed.

Thoughts of Scaryduck

2005-09-01T22:24:00.000+01:00

Today we went to a funeral in Bray She who must be obeyed's uncle had shuffled off the mortal coil and so we went back to Bray Church for the first time since we got married some 26 odd years ago - on the way home we decided to re-visit my old stamping grounds in Maidenhead.
The Six cross roads Gordon Road, All saints Avenue, St Marks Road, Judith's old School in Farm Road - the Place where we used to fly model planes up on the cricket pitch at Pinkneys Green,
past all the old pubs we used to go to, past the Thicket - where We used to go biking (see the original "Swiss Army Knife Story !!, and up past Temple Golf Course, and Hurley - Good Grief - they've removed the East Arms and the Black Boy has gone all politically correct ! On to Remenham ! - The hill down into Henley brought back memories of when my mate and I used to ride our old motorbikes from Maidenhead to Henley on a Sunday morning for a pint in the Angel or the Row Barge. We used to have several motorcycle cops in our area and it was guaranteed that we would come to their notice as we had done as much as we could to our bikes to make them into Norton Dominators, or Triumph Bonnevilles ( I had an old BSA 250cc C11G and Jimbo had a 350 matchless) We had put "Ace Clubman" handlebars on and invested in better exhaust pipes etc etc - to the point where, with a following wind, and going down hill (e.g. Remenham hill into Henley) we could reach speeds in excess of 50 mph - madness how can man breath at these speeds how can one control these snorting beasts - So, God bless him, one of the motor cycle cops, Angel by name, had followed us from Hurley and, being a fairly cunning sort of young tearaway I pulled away a bit and shouted to Jimbo - go down the hill like greased weasel shit and when we get 3/4 way down and, the important bit, before we get to the 30 mph signs,
brake like anything and we shall see, what we shall see. So bum in air and head down on tank down the hill we go - sure enough Angel gets his speed twin going and overtakes - waving us to slow down - he was obviously looking at us and not concentrating !! We braked like the "French Connection UK (or FCUK) and suddenly he realised that the right hander at the bottom was approaching and he was still at full "ramming speed" Har Har !! - How he got round the corner I'll never know but it was obviously a tribute to Police Motorcycle training !! Sparks everywhere and large black skid marks. Meanwhile, we had slowed down to a sedate 30 mph. He had nearly piled it into the bridge and was visibly shaken as we slowly cruised past the Wargrave turn (scaryduck country) and over the bridge to the High Street. We stopped up at the traffic lights and saw him approaching in the rear view mirrors. We went straight over the cross roads up to the Row Barge, and without looking left or right or at us he turned right towards Marlow !! Not long after he got me for "construction and use" offences (blown tail lamp bulb and seat not fitting correctly) But he knew Jimbo and I had had him well over and his attention was really only half hearted after that ! Strange but 20 years later I was a serving Police officer with his Son Bob, who was a really nice guy - even he admitted that his dad was a bit of a B****d in his youth
Yoicks
mog

Fresh Disasters

2005-08-31T18:35:00.000+01:00

Just a quickie to let any (if any !!) readers know that I have not dropped off the face of the earth, but have been out in the van - I thought I had the lap top and mobile internet connection licked but am still having problems !! Have been out in the van for some time now - British Leyland association rally and down in the depths of darkest Wiltshire. - No coverage on the mobile, so no connection to the internet. Back at home for a few days now. The good news is that the Air pump has been working - on the 12 volt system even (although have had to run the generator to charge the battery daily - so feeling a bit better - semi-human now and even looking forward to going back to work
Getting there
mog

Mog in the twenty first Century

2005-08-18T17:46:00.000+01:00

Well folks,it would appear that a new era in the mystic mog saga has started. A few weeks ago we went slightly mad and bought a lap top. This was internet ready and again in another fit of madness we got a contract phone to run the thing. I have previously always resisted contract phones after a run in with a service provider and bought myself out of the contract - (eventually) after a proctracted wrangle with them and, in essence, paying their bill twice! However, that was another story. Had great difficulty making the connection work and went back to the shop several times - every time the smooth young chap loaded the programme again and off it went ! Every time I got it home it would not work for me. I have now discovered that the coverage of my new network is not as good as my previous, pre-pay. Here we are in a field outside of Nuneaton en route to the British Leyland Caravan Club Association Rally - A weekend where all the clubs affiliated to the Club get together and play games and get blatted ! All the great names of the forgotten British Car industry - Alvis, Standard Triumph, MG, Landrover etc - A small but useless fact - My place of work, Abingdon Police Station, is built on the site of the old MG works-small world aint it. Anyway after much trial and error I've got the damn internet running and, with a bit of luck will be able to blog whilst out in the field now. Will save this and try and get my bog running so I can publish - old dog - new tricks
woof
mystic mog

Back from Wales (alive!)

2005-08-10T22:08:00.000+01:00

Well. I see my last post was 13th July - Since then I have been sitting in a field in North Wales.
Up near Porthmadog (and yes, I did Porth ma dog several times) Our large and very hairy German Shepherd dog, Shadow also known as Darth Vadog, was as is his want, thrown into several cold and wet Welsh rivers and as the weather got warmer we decided to get him clipped - Mien Gott - I have never seen a stranger looking mutt - He's all legs and ears poor sod - and his little friend Cecelia, or Walsing Matildog as she is better known(she supports the Aussie cricket team- ungrateful little bastard - doesn't she know who buys her dog food !) She now is growling at him and, I suspect secretly sniggering ! Anyway didn't we have a lovely time the day(s) we went to Bangor ! - bought a new all singing, dancing lap top and a new mobile on a contract to power it - trouble is - no signal on vodaphone anywhere ! so haven't been able to log on to the net yet - once I do I can get some pictures up on the log - She who must be obeyed loved Bangor due in the main part to a large "Matalan" store which she went through like a plague of locusts on several occasions - did the usual things (other than Snowdon- a. rip off on Railway and b. when open a 4 - 5 hour wait for a train. Went to Portmerion ! spent fortune on "prisoner" tee shirts etc for she who must be obeyed but had a really good time re-discovering this amazing place - Clough Williams Ellis - bloody genius !! . I am not usually in any way class,race or people concious - but I have never seen so many "Chavs" and POTAs (Persons of Toe Rag Appearance)as I did in Wales nasty children, heavily preggers girls in too short pink T shirts with their bare bellies hanging over either very short denim or white ra ra skirts and the heavily tatooed male version with shell suit bottom, obligitory beer can and Staffie on heavily "brassed" harness and lead -lots of them in tents on the next field - loud music, heavy drinking and fires at 0200 ! I'm getting old - more later !
back to sleep clinic today
cheers
Mog

Sleep Clinic two - the return

2005-07-13T14:03:00.000+01:00

Well, there we go - back again for a chat with the nurses, - the young lady I saw when I was last there has now got her degree, married and has two children. It would appear that the CPAP pumps have come on a long way since I was issued with mine. So I have now been issued with a brand new, automatic, very quiet pump - with a humidifier option if my mouth gets too dry, and of all things, a full face mask.Takes me back to flying days. The nurse fitted it and turned on the pump - told me to relax and sure enough - two minutes and I was off with the fairies. If this works it will be great - imagine getting a full night's sleep - not waking up feeling worse than when I went to sleep. Most of all being able to go to sleep and not being afraid that I won't wake up !!! Seeing the trace of the machine when I was wired up frightened me - the long straight line on the breathing monitor, for over a minute before the choking wake up - like those bad TV dramas where the machine goes Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, and everybody looks at it as the red lights etc come on. If this works then the Mog rides again.I can get back to work and chronicle the life and times of the ex cannon fodder, ex pig and now civilian control room team leader. She who must be obeyed and I are off out in our caravan at the end of the week - to Welsh Wales again - Black Rock Sands no less. I must be a real glutton for punishment, as not only are we voluntarily going to W*****s, but we are stewarding the rally. Mad as a fish, me !
We have an electric hook up so I can run my new pump at night- which it going to be a problem when we go to smaller, non electric hook up sites. They do a twelve volt version but I'm not sure whether I have a battery that will run the pump for 8 hours - Anyway that's in the future.
At this time just looking forward to getting some sleep
ZZZZZZZZ
mog

Here we go again

2005-07-08T16:53:00.000+01:00

Went to the Sleep Clinic today to see the famous Professor Stradling at the Churchill in Oxford- apparantly he is the world's foremost authority on Sleep problems. He welcomed me back into the fold like a prodigal son ! - No recriminations about not using my CPAP pump for some time. He was adamant that the operation on the throat muscles is not the way to go. He says that it is dangerous, and has more complications than is realised. He says that there are now new much less invasive pumps, some of which have humidifyers to keep the nose clear, and others fitting right over the mouth which will help - the upshot being that I have to go for a fitting on Wednesday next. Feels like a weight lifted off my back, knowing that he didn't jump up and down and was sympathetic. Have had to put off the next caravanning expedition - was going off to North Wales (Black Rock Sands) on Monday for a month so will have to leave it till later in the week. I was telling one of my colleagues, who rang up the other day to see how I was that the only two sorts of people in Wales are whores and rugby players - at this point he said
"My wife's Welsh" so quick as a flash I reply
"How nice, what position does she play !!"
Boom Boom,
Mog

Raggle Taggle Gypsies O!

2005-06-27T12:50:00.000+01:00

Well here we are again, back from Welsh Wales and then the Banbury Steam Fair. My small cloud is still following me around - so much so that one of our friends has done me a "car sticker"
with an Eeyore on it - I am feeling less depressed and the struggle uphill is getting easier. We drove round Cardiff and I was amazed to see how different it has become - very up market and trendy - especially round the old dock area - we then drove up the Rhonnda Valley - past villages with names evoking memories - Tonypandy and Abervan and up into the Brecon Beacons - all the places of my youth and soldiering - clambering over one "Pen Y" something and going on to another - its much easier in Big Ange - saw the last deep colliery in Wales - brought back memories of other collieries in Yorkshire and the Moner's strike - we won't go there as looking at it from a 25 year gap I come more and more to the c0nclusion that we were wrong - being used as an instrument of "The Government" instead of an instrument of Government - Maggie's Bootboys infact ! - However, Banbury steam fair was fun - and I saw a genuine BSA Scout sports car in the classic car parade - so for you doubters if my pictures have come out and I can figure how to get it on to the computer (I seem to have lost the connecting lead somewhere !!) I will put a photo on the blog wet and 'orrible on the Friday night - saw the floods at Glstonbury on the TV - not quite that bad at Bloxham but wellie weather - now just waiting on Occupational Health and the Sleep Clinic
better than last time
Mog

Off Again

2005-06-16T19:37:00.000+01:00

The Doctor still thinks I'm mad as a fish so has signed me off until I go into the sleep clinic. At this point I'm feeling better in myself but still only sleeping for an hour at a time and waking up gasping. The big difference is that I can become semi-comatose during the day for longish periods so eventually I do get enough sleep to make me feel almost human again. Have decided to go and sit in a field again for a couple of weeks. Tomorrow (Friday) we pack up Big Ange, hook up the van and all things being equal head for the home of the mole wrench again ! Jolly Newport - Caravan Club site at Tredegar House - looks nice from the big green book - will stay there next week then come up country for the Bloxham Steam Fair. Met Fred Dibnah there a couple of years ago - pity he died - he was a nice man with time for everyone and a kind word for all. Fame did not change him and he was pleased to be "recognised" The world is a poorer place without his earthy humour and his passion for steam engines. Being a Maidenhead lad and an "Old Maid" (County Boy's School) I also knew John "Flash" Carter - He was a friend of my best friend's brother - Every year I would come back and find he had acquired more bits of steam machinery - He used to run the Knowle Hill Steam rally (in Scary Duck Country) Another good man gone ! I'm glad to see Anna and his son still running the show - they were on TV the other night - bought back memories of Don Allan and Flash building awful old cars in the garden
Don (my best mate Richard's brother) had a BSA Scout - a really rare sports car with semi auto box which they were forever in the process of re-building. Don went on to be a high flyer with IBM and Flash went on to get one of the really great steam calliopes ! - funny old world
Anyway off again for a couple of weeks - no lap top so no blog - Any comments want replies e mail me or Ill get back when I get back ?? does that make sense
Byyyeeeee
mog

Words

2005-06-15T11:39:00.000+01:00

Reading the latest Scaryduck post about new words reminded me of when I took the Queen's Shilling and joined HM Forces (Yes folks in those far off days of pounds shillings and pence when you took the oath you were given a small New Testament (I wonder if the gave Jewish chaps an old testament???) and a shiney new Shilling - which you obviously kept for ever as a memento of this great occasion (I should Co Co - went down me neck as half of Brakespears)) - I digress - On arrival at the depot after the usual shouting, screaming and jumping up and down (the recruits before getting off the lorries) - It was a long journey and some needed the loo quite badly we were taken to a huge hanger and ran the gauntlet of a long line of men behind a chest high counter, each of whom piled another item on top of the already wobbly heap you were carrying. You were then shivvied on to the next who did the same - shouts of "Mugs, one pint, china, one for the use of", and "tunics, number two dress, two for the use of" rang down the line and woe betide any poor sod who dropped something - reminded me of a particularly sadistic game of Crackerjack!! - Suitably laden like perambulating garbage heaps (you've all seen the films - and believe me in 1963 it was just like the films - we all lived in black and white and it was intentionally as hard and as cruel as possible) Remember just 2 years before these same sadistic bastards were dealing with National Service squaddies who had no choice - They conveniently forgot were were "The new all Volunteer, professional Army"and in their own peculiar way with their own stacato and highly specialised language, fists, boots and naked aggression turned the average weedy, mothers boys into hardened brutal licentious soldiery.
Which brings me back to the somewhat convoluted point. After kit issue, which you stuffed into a large metal locker, and not being daft and also having seen some of the films, if you were sensible you locked with a padlock you had brought with you from home (the issue ones could be undone with a nail or if you wanted to re-use it there were only 12 locks so in a platoon of 36 at least three of you were likely to have the same padlock keys) You were then run (we ran everywhere for the next 20 weeks) to another large hanger like building were you were issued with bedding - "sheets, cotton, single, two for the use of" etc rang through the air- right down to the last man who stood behind the a huge pile of bent wire- and as you went past him at a steady 12 mph shouted, "extend little finger of left hand", and hung 6 coat hangers on to i, and then shouted "COAT HANGERS , six for the use of" The significance of this remark did not sink in until some time later - when you had arrived back at the barrack room and were given the long list of kit that you had been issued and (if you had carefully locked it up probably still had) if not - no chance I remember one poor guy who was issued with "Two brushes, boot" who had never seen them and never would again (they were carefully hidden inside my second pair of "Boots DMS, size eleven small" just in case ! Setting up the locker was a work of art. Each piece of clothing and equipment had to be immaculate, folded, pressed and placed -"Just so" for inspection right down to the "Coats great, infantry pattern, one for the use of" hanging in the locker - all hanging on their COAT HANGERS. This still did not sink in. It was only after the process was completed and we were almost hairy arsed, licentious and brutal soldiery and ready to be let loose on an unsuspecting regular battalion - where we found out we still had much to learn - We reported in and were issued, at a much slower and relaxed pace - bedding etc
I then asked the Quartermaster's clerk about the nomenclature and sure enough when looking down the ledgers everything was broken down into "Mugs, one pint china, or Mugs half pint plastic right the way down to small bent wire objects which were COAT HANGERS. He had been in the army since 1958 (signed on after national service) and had never noticed that this was the only piece of equipment that had its own name,the right way round. I suppose the explanation is that the only thing you can do with it is hang coats on it so there is only one !! - Now there is a really useless piece of information for you.
slowly climbing back into the saddle
mog

Onwards and Upwards

2005-06-14T17:45:00.000+01:00

One of the things that has happened since I fell off me perch and have spent a lot of the time sitting about in fields, is that I have thought a lot about the past and have written a few ideas down for future blogs. As I thought when I first started blogging I would try and emulate Scary and others in that I would re-live silly things from my long and varied past. Having spent twelve years seving her Majesty as a soldier, and then over twenty years in the Police and (up to now at least) as a Civilian in a Police Control Room, I have seen and done many stupid and in retrospect ,probably funny things. At least they amused me. Like the time we were banished from El Adem Air Base in Libya. We had come in from a six week trip into the boonies. We had drunk no alcohol for this period and had considerable thirsts (throat drier than an Arab camel driver's flip flop). We stormed the bar - unfortunately the RAF were sending some families home and it was full of Crab Air types say goodbye to their loved ones. After the first few pints - several not hitting the sides on the way down we degenerated into the usual squaddie pastimes of "Dam Busters" (trying to drop coins clenched in the buttocks into a pint glass) and the dance of the flaming A****** holes (clenching lighted news papers between the naked buttocks)
Zulu Warrier etc (reading this its weird how buttock fixated we appeared to be in those days!!!)
Enter the Canteen Cowboy (duty NCO) - Exit the Canteen Cowboy (his hat pulled firmly down over his eyes) Cue the Lady Bar manager -
"Follow me outside boys, I've lit the Barbie and we can sit out under the stars and eat and drink in comfort"
Six weeks in the Ulu - not only no beer but no females either. Cue raging male hormones
Gulible or what - outside we troop - Its very dark when the sun goes down in Libya
Slam, slam ,slam ,slam . We appear to be on our own in the desert (again !) The crabs had locked the doors of the NAAFI. It sinks in that we are not going to get back in - and to make matters worse when we stagger back to our camp area we find that the Canteen Cowboy has arrived before us and upshot being we are "Banned from the Club" for the remainder of our stay.
Luckily it was only three days !! Daft as brushes we were. I wonder why they have closed most of the Police Clubs now ???
Feeling a bit better
Mystic Mog

Sitting in the middle of a field

2005-06-13T17:53:00.000+01:00

Back from Cornwall on Sunday night - In keeping with my current mood (small rain cloud following me round) the much vaunted air suspension on "Big Ange" the Range Rover went tits up half way down (just before Sedgemoor Services )- the warning lights came on and with a sinking feeling the body slowly collapsed onto the wheels - limped in to the caravan park and rang the forth emergency service ! - They turned up at about 0130 and loaded us, the dogs, and "Ange" on to the lorry - hitched up the van and took us all the way to Looe ! We were dropped outsided the gates of the Caravan site, I re-hitched the caravan and slowly scraped our way on site - not seeing the large wheely bin ! - - Another large dent in van and wheely bin rubbish everywhere ! All this at 0430 in morning ! Rang every garage in bloody Cornwall - spoke to the home garage in Cheltenham and they said that it could be anything from a 20p fuze to a £4000 compressor - cheered me up no end! - Eventually the Main dealer in Plymouth said they could try and have a look on the next Friday (this being Monday I was thrilled !) Sat about in the field all week as could not go anywhere - The weather was diabolical so watched rain (not just over me for a change) listened to my IPOD a lot and read lots of books Re-read the complete Fritz Leiber Lankmar series (Ffhad and Grey Mouser) - On the Friday - went - very slowly to the dealer in Plymouth (good old satnav - I get lost going to work most days) Sat about for a couple of hours - Service dept plugged it in to the Computer and low and behold a sensor not working - suspension re-set and away - no parts and a bill for an hour's work (£60!) (for plugging it in to computer- reading results and re-setting software) still, can't complain could have been the £4000 compressor ! After being mobile again we managed to drive round the county a bit and being addicted to ferries for some reason - went over the torpoint ferry into plymouth and over the Fowey ferry several times - We really now need to win the Lottery and go and live in a little village called Polruan - got a harbour like most (Mousehole, Port Isaac etc) but not at all touristy - two small pubs and hills like High Wycombe. Very quiet and a great place to sit on the harbour wall and look - several locals seemed interested in the small rain cloud over me but said tha it rained a lot in Cornwall anyway ! True to form the weather got really hot and nice on the weekend we were coming home - Still have the problem with the overheating, although I am now sure that it is to do the the fan not cutting in at the right time - the temperature guage was like the rev counter - as it got really hot I could here the fan cut in with a thump and the guage went back down - Anyway home now and Doctor tomorrow, Occupational Health next week and the Sleep Clinic first week in July - Depressed - me ? Yep ! still raining on me head - but not so bad as before - and would be ok except for some B***d turning the light off at the end of the tunnel
cheers
mog

Three Legged Field Voles

2005-05-17T17:50:00.000+01:00

There are days when I feel that I'm moving with the speed of a three legged field vole - or with all the blinding speed of a striking sloth. This led me to think of more comparisons - for instance as fast as greased weasel s**t. As organised as a box of frogs or "No I haven't got one but I have a photograph of a ham sandwich and a picture of Nelson" ? Now where did that come from - or even "Greater than chocolate bullfrogs". Sayings from our youth ! "The greatest thing since sliced armadillos ???" My mind is beginning to function again - I think that when depression strikes the first thing that goes is any sort of sense of humour - nothing seems funny and re-reading archive logs doesn't help - as I am usually the world's oldest teenager and a teenage sense of humour grates against large dark cloud which hangs over my head - Howver I am researching getting photos on to the blog and have joined "Hello" - just need to find a photo to put on it now. Am also trying to set up a web page for she who must be obeyed's pictures
Its called Palujia Pictures if anyone can find it. Am off the "Oggie land" for three weeks now so it you are in Looe in Cornwall - look for a Range Rover (G14 MOG) and there I will be
getting less gloomy
mog

The Plague and I

2005-05-10T18:33:00.000+01:00

With apologies to Betty McDonald who wrote such wonderful books ! She suffered from TB which was a real killer in those days whereas all I'm suffering from is lack of sleep ! However, the Doctor is taking it seriously so I am too. I am now waiting for an appointment with the sleep clinic - last time was dreadfull but this time I think I am really going to try and get the operation, so that my breathing tube stays open and I don't keep waking up choking ! - Have been out in the caravan looking at fields. This is a real help and soothes my troubled waters a bit. I can just sit in the awning and watch the birds and animals even in the rain - Again it is very soothing to hear the patter of rain on canvas. Have now managed to put quite a lot of my CDs on to my ipod - have over one hundred discs on and still only scratching the surface (still got 33Gb out of 40 left). Did I mention that We bought one of the BOSE docking stations for it which turns it into a full blown Hi Fi - Have taken this out in the caravan and as they say music soothes the savage breast and when I feel about to explode an eclectic mix of Wagner, bluegrass, folk, Mozart etc does it every time. Have been signed off work for another 4 weeks so will be down in Looe in Cornwall with the van for the next 3 weeks - up your transom me handsome - as they say. Will try and blog when able but don't have lap top !
still gloomy
mog

Feeling Grim

2005-05-02T19:28:00.000+01:00

I wasn't going to winge on like a lot of blogs but it has been getting really bad recently. I just can't seem to get my act together. Getting more and more depressed at work and going into a declining spiral - which ended with me only just getting an effective grading on my yearly appraisal where I have been highly effective and doing my job really well. Trouble was I really could not disagree with my boss - I really haven't been effective these last few months. I suffer from a condition called sleep aponea - this means that my windpipe collapses and I snore really badly culminating in stopping breathing - I went to a sleep clinic at the Churchill hospital in Oxford where I spent the night wired up to all sorts of machines. Apparantly I woke up over 350 times during the night and stopped breathing at one point for over a minute. The overall effect is that I am always bone tired. I have started getting really bad tempered and edgy- and if I stop moving for any length of time I fall asleep - even at work. I was given a pump with a face mask to force air into my lungs but even when I force myself to wear it (it's very uncomfortable) I find that I have pulled it off when I wake up. So the doctor has signed me off for a few weeks to try and sort my slef out . No drinking alcohol, more exercise, less food etc
So I have been out in my caravan in a field at Moreton in Marsh just "sitting" and trying to feel a bit better - not much blogging for a while but there you go.

Old soldiers never die - they only smell that way

2005-04-18T15:28:00.000+01:00

Another war story from the aged infantryman sitting by the fire in his twilight years – Swing the lamp son. Well back in the days when men were men and sheep on Dartmoor were worried, The old Wessex Brigade was formed of several Regiments including mine The Duke of Edinburgh’s Royal Regiment (Berkshire and Wiltshire)(49th and 62nd,66th and 99th of foot) . One of our claims to fame was a small red triangular patch which we wore sewn on our berets, behind the cap badge. This was known as the “Brandywine” patch. Its origins were in the American War of Independence and apparently what happened was that the light companies – (best soldiers usually with better kit) were taken from the standard infantry regiments and formed into a special unit which carried out an unprecedented night attack on the American forces at Brandywine Creek. This at the time was considered extremely bad form, unsporting and beyond the pale !
I mean at 4pm everything stopped for tea, and resumed after breakfast the next morning – that was the way wars were fought. Anyway the special force won the battle – one of the few they did – and the story goes that the soldiers dipped their “hackles”(the white plume of feathers that infantry wore in their hats,) into the blood of the fallen turning them red. The Americans were pretty upset about this non sporting tactic and vowed revenge.The reply was “If you want to know who did it – look for the soldiers with the red hackles in their hats”. No one ever said what happened after that but the upshot was the descendents of the 49th and 66th always wore the Brandywine patch. Mid 20th century (1970 to be exact) two infantry corporals, posted to British Honduras, decide to hitch hike back to UK, up through Mexico and into the States. Unofficially we wore our uniforms as it made getting lifts a cinch (first time into California we join a large gathering of Hitch Hikers “Take a seat man – we been here three days” – we are in our rip stop junglies, berets and A frame Pack – large union flag on outside of Pack – Car screetchs to a halt – “Hey guys – you English” “Yes”, “Hop in” – total time waiting 2 mins !!!) Any way we roll through the states – just going up the West coast then across the middle and up and down the East coast.
We see a Sign for Brandywine – and Washington’s Headquarters – Large museum and lo and behold the site of the battle of Brandywine Creek We speak to lots of people – historians and local press etc and it turns out we are the first from our regiment to return to the battlefield since the battle – Just for a moment there – but the Americans, being a great hearted and in the main simple people thought it was a great laugh and there we were – set up for the week ! – I could tell you some war stories about that but decency prevails
Put out that light
Mog

The Lottery of Life

2005-04-17T14:51:00.000+01:00

Well I thought here I am – Yesterday was my 59th birthday – what have I done in life to ensure my immortality – Nothing – I read a quote somewhere that “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation” and I felt just like that. I thought I’d read a few of my favourite blogs today. So I logged on and went to Notes From A Strange Blue Ghost: Julia Darling. Clicked on the link and was transported. Courage is described as grace under pressure. How much pressure had this lady lived and died under. I immediately knew how minor my fit of depression was and really how lucky I have been in life. Apart from the odd broken bone (last time smashing my offside knee falling over in Tesco’s car park !!) I have had few major health problems and sailed through life firstly in the Infantry then as a Policeman with less than 60 days off sick in 22 ½ years ! I be-moan my luck when I don’t win the lottery when, in fact the lottery of life has been kind to me in many ways – so stop moaning and get on with it.
It has cheered my up considerable to read this brave lady’s blog

Been on me Hols

2005-04-11T07:41:00.000+01:00

I’ve been on me hols down to the New Forest. Looking at ponies and taking sheep ticks off the dogs – Happy days !
There seem to be be an awful lot more ponies than there used to be. We were caravanning near Lyndhurst – biggest traffic jam in the area – but a really great exotic sports car garage (Ferraris,etc.) I read somewhere about people sneaking on to the forest and letting unwanted ponies go – Don’t know if its true but there were a hell of a lot more than I remembered seeing when We last holidayed in the area ? In particular was a herd of Shetland sized evil little brutes rampaging round the open area just before Brockenhurst – “Don’t feed the Ponies” the notices say – These little buggers were mugging tourists before they got a chance to read the notices !
“Don’t they look sweet Hiram” Crash bang – to continue the American theme – like a Nose Tackle hitting the opposing Quarter Back – and off with your picnic basket !
Did a lot of touristy things ourselves this time. Got me chance to spend a day in the Motor Museum at Beaulieu.
My three favourite cars in a row – 246 Dino, GT40 and a gob smacking AC Cobra – She who must be obeyed was embarrassed to have drag me away kicking and screaming after just sitting and dreaming – Ah well
When we win the lottery !!! – Went down to See HMS Victory and Mary Rose et al. Victory had much more light and seemed to have more space than I remembered – They have opened all the gun ports and made Perspex windows round the guns so it seemed much less cramped and scary than it did to a small boy on a school party
45 years ago ! One of life’s great experiences seeing where Nelson died, like visiting first world war battle sites or even the Lion Mound at Waterloo – makes the hairs on the back of the neck rise. Days when Britain was Great and Pax Britannica was the thing – Or as she who must be obeyed just pointed out – “That Bloody pony has just put his head in trough the car window and taken your sandwich- again !!!” Tea break over – back on your heads!
Mornin All
Mog

Another load of Polaccs

2005-04-02T16:29:00.000+01:00

I got to thinking about POLACCs again when reading back through my previous posts and, as luck would have it one of my ex-colleagues, came in to the Control Room to say cheerio – he was retiring to Spain. As a bit of an aside he sold up his house in Abingdon last year for a phenomenal sum and rented whilst he has bought a penthouse flat on a well known seaside Golf complex in Spain. He can see the Golf course on one side and the sea on the other – and in between he could see at least 60 different places to eat and drink – Bastard – I hate it when it does that! He sent me a post card – sold his car and bought an electric golf buggy and having a lovely time. Anyway – he was famous on the force for being either the top or second top police car destroyer – in his 30 years he managed to write off 23 or maybe 24 police cars (the other contender is still serving and is a definite 23 ) We are not sure if the car he wrote off on his driving course (refresher) counts ! His last one was a classic.
“All units, observations for a stolen vehicle, a red Vauxhall Corsa, ABC123D, last Seen Marcham Road towards town centre”
Now friend Fred was going out of town on Ock St – which leads to Marcham road.
“ME101”, I’m on Ock St towards the mini roundabouts with Marcham Road, this time when was last sighting?”
“Last sighting 1 minute ago Tesco’s towards town”
“ME101, Roger – can see a red Corsa coming towards the mini roundabouts”
At this point Fred is in traffic which is beginning to slow down for the aforesaid roundabouts. The occupants of the Corsa go straight across the mini roundabouts and up Ock St towards town at full ramming speed. Now this is where it all goes horribly wrong. As they pass Fred, he tries to do three things at once – look round, speak into the mike and control the car which is rolling steadily at 30 mph towards the roundabouts.
“ME101, car sighted two male occs (LOUD AND HORRIBLE CRUNCH)Oh F****K” Silence
It would appear that Fred had forgotten number three and his panda car had sailed at 30 mph straight into the back of a car which had stopped into the queue for the roundabout – Newton takes over and pushes the second car into the third etc – by the time three cars had crunched the energy had been expended !!
As usual the expectant hush on the radio
“ME101 – lost sight of the suspect veh which was making towards town centre down Ock Streed at high speed”
“Roger ME101, anything else to report ??”
Sniggers over the radio.
“Ah yes, I’ve had a slight POLACC” - Slight !!! four cars written off plus whiplash and all the attendant investigation which closed the main street out of Abingdon for about 4 hours while the Accident investigation branch tried in vain to lighten his life a bit – No chance, 3 points on his licence, a fine and walking for the last year of his service !! – The Corsa was caught on the one way system by a traffic unit who had snuck in quietly on the back road from Oxford and cut him off in the Vineyard – just to add insult to Fred’s injury !
Evenin All
Mog

Badgers

2005-03-19T19:50:00.000Z

Badgers ! I don’t know whether its due to the people being more environmentally friendly or less inclined to cruel sports (badger baiting et al) but there seems to be a lot more badgers about in Oxfordshire. To the point that as I went home off nights at 0’dark early this morning there were no less than 3 squashed badgers on the A420 through Pusey woods. Not close enough together to be a family, over a mile or so of road. A few years back when I was the village bobby for the area I used to patrol the woods and very rarely saw hide nor hair of them. I did know of a family of them that used to troop along the side of the road every morning at about 0500 towards the convent. There were five in the family and it was nice to see them – I saw them most days when I was finishing nights and doing my final sweep through the village. She who must be obeyed had never seen a live badger so I took her out one morning and she was entranced. They have a peculiar rolling gait which makes them like drunken sailors ! The biggest – I presume the family patriarch was wonderfully marked like a bloody great Everton mint and the three little ones were big balls of fluff. The memsahib was really pleased to see them. There must be a lot more of them now – or they are getting stupid as I said in the beginning – three squashed ones in a mile of road. However I used to see a hell of a lot of squashed hedge hogs on the same stretch of road – Either they are getting scarce or they are getting brighter and not crossing busy roads ! – These profound thoughts kept me awake for the whole 20 miles it takes to get home in the morning
Evenin all
Mog

The Sun has Set !

2005-03-18T23:57:00.000Z

I know that I’m a dinosaur and hark back to days of Empire, and “gun boat” politics. Days when the world consisted of Great Britain and her Colonies, and the world was a safer place Pax Britannica ! Rose coloured specs I am well aware, and also not politically correct etc etc etc.
I am as diverse as the next man and any prejudices I hold I keep to myself. But, I remember when one of the great offices of state was the Foreign Minister, a grandee who would dine with Kings and Presidents a man who’s words and pronouncements were listened to with awe. In short, not a man who you would bump into , bumbling round the fruit department of your local Waitrose. Literally bumped into Lord Hurd of Westwell, who was dressed in his customary old tweedy coat and cords, with his shopping list and pushing his trolley like the next man and thought
How the mighty have fallen – this political giant, guiding the ship of state through the stormy seas of diplomacy reduced to pushing his trolley through Waitrose ! – This gave thought to what would other politicians do when they get their ermine ? Can you see Baron Blair Queuing
In The Butchers, Count “two jags” waiting in line at the Post Office – I don’t know but it’s a fascinating thought ?
Good old Duggie ! Not a bad sort of bloke (for a conservative peer that is)
Evenin all
Mog

Tales from the Training School

2005-03-17T06:42:00.000Z

More from the archives of the youthfull PC Mog – (I must admit at this stage that I was actually never a youthfull PC Mog – having served Queen and Country as a squaddie for 12 years before joining “The Job” as it is universally known). I was however, fit and keen – I could not believe how unfit some of the other recruits were at the Police Training College – even at 18 years old they were fat and wheezing and a lot of us ex-service types ran rings round them ! A couple of fondly remembered incidents from the dreaded Eynsham Hall Training College. We used to prance about in the Gym in shorts and plimmies learning what the instructors called self defence – Having learned a much nastier version called kill the bastard before he gets a chance at you I kept quiet on these lessons, along with the other ex servicemen and several other re-joining policemen. Up jumps the instructor waving his cardboard cut out knife about. He pulls out an unwilling ex City of London re-joiner “What would you do if I came at you with a knife in my hand “ “This” said Trevor and pulled up his tee shirt to expose a foot long scar right across his abdomen ! Apparantly he was on a raid on a drinking club when he was in the job – he was in the lead going down the steps into the club being pushed by the press of Officers behind him – straight onto the knife of the ungodly bastard coming up stairs trying to get away – he spent three months in hospital – “Ah” sez the instructor, “fall back in”. You would have thought he would have learned his lesson but no – He pulls out an ex serviceman again – I don’t know whether he thought that as Brian was ex RAF he might not have been trained in the kill the bastard school of defence but there he went prancing about with the cardboard cut out ! “Try and kick me in the balls” he shouts to Brian. Brian gently waves a foot at him
“No, you namby pampy Crab”,(derogatory term for RAF- Fly Navy, Sail Army, walk sideways!!) “Try harder than that” – At this point, Brian who, before he retired from the RAF was the Combined Services full contact Karate champion – sort of quietly sighed and without any extraneous movement at all – “THWACK” You hardly saw his leg move at all as it was so fast – Upshot was the instructor writhing about on the mat with severe genital contusions and Brian quietly ambling back into the pack
After that we quietly concentrated on Aikido holds and trying to talk our way out of trouble – but that’s another story
Mornin all
Mog

POLACC

2005-03-09T22:57:00.000Z

Back in the dim and distant past (swing the lamp I'll tell you a war story) It used to be some time before a young policeperson got a driving course - It was usually either just before or just after the finish of probation - so you walked a beat for two years. Not really as there were attachments and courses, not to mention untold hours waiting to give evidence (In those days it was considered de rigeur to "Learn" your evidence and give it parrott fashion from the witness box and when asked questions request to "refer to my pocket book notes, made at the time or as soon as practicable afterwards, your worship"- I digress, just after the "continuation" course - at Ashford in Kent - great fun as you met up with a lot of the others from your course at Eynsham Hall - and found out who had lasted the first 18 months - told a lot of lies about the massive numbers of arrests for "firearms offences"
(Excuse me Mr Smith, your shotgun licence has expired, and we will have to impound your shotgun until your new certificate arrives) Massive numbers of arrests for "public order offences" - two pissed up locals "duking it out" in the bog of the Red Lion etc etc. Anyway got back from that to find the letter in my
"docket" - sort of "in tray" for the uninitiated - You have been selected to go on Standard Driving Course number *** at the Force Driving School at Aylesbury.
This was a four week course, culminating in a very intensive "check drive" in which we had to drive absolutely to the speed limits, other than the de-restriction sign (known as a GLF or Go like F***k)
when you floored it and then had to give a running spoken commentary to the instructor so that he knew that you knew what you were doing !! - It was quite hard to pass the course and I was pretty damned pleased to pass first go. Arriving back at the station, it was back to foot patrol for the next few weeks as cars were allocated on seniority and there were about 4 on shift above me still waiting for the allocation of a car
We worked 3 double crewed cars on shift, plus an enquiry vehicle, and the crews were all the old sweats who were then crewed with a newer driver to show them the ropes. This stayed pretty static and the only changes were for postings, sickness, leave, court or courses etc, so most crews had been together for a couple of years. The biggest cause of change was the dreaded "POLACC", or police accident - When ever the word came over the radio there would be a deathly hush as we all listened with bated breath for the explanation - which no matter how it happened, we knew the driver of the police vehicle was going to get suspended from driving - There I was on a quiet night, walking the High St when the Sergeant pulled up in the Supervisor's car, "Hop in PC Mog" he says, have a bit of a warm - "And I'll sign your Pocket Book whilst I'm at it" (Cunning bastard thought he would catch me out - not having made up my pocket book - but by now I had caught on and it was bang up to date
2315 hrs - foot patrol, High St, shop security)(testing door knobs) There is another story about them later !
Anyway there I am, in the warm glow of the car heater and feeling good as the Sergeant (ex Colstream Guards and a right B****D) said, ""Well done son, you're catching on now". first time the swine has ever said anything nice to me "Let's do a tour of the pubs" he said, "maybe we can get you a drink driver. Its about time for you to do one of those files" - In those days a Drink/Drive file was quite complex with Doctors involved, statement and lab submissions etc and it was quite a step up from Construction and use offences - dirty number plates, blown bulbs etc. So feeling fine and full of legal zeal we progress at a gentle pace down the High St - the radio, which had been quiet suddenly bursts into life
"HB, HB, B21 - am in pursuit of a red hillman hunter, reg no ABC123D, veh at high speed towards Hazelmere cross roads from Wycombe towards Amersham, speed 70mph in 30 mph zone"
The Sergeant drops the cogs two gears and off like a long dog - I get on the radio
"HB, HB BS40 en route from High St, supervisor on
board"
"HB to B21, keep the commentary coming"
"B21 straight across the Hazelmere cross, no deviation, speed 80mph and crossing the lights at Red
Trying to keep in sight"
For those that know the area - the road from Hazelmere to Amersham goes past Holmer Green, then down a steep hill into a compression with a couple of really good 45degree bends before going back up hill.
"B21, past the Country club, going down hill, speed now 85 mph and he is getting away"
The good old 1100 Ford Escort is now at full ramming speed and I remember the bends
"HB to B21", "HB to B21" - silence, same again, silence - We are just approaching the cross now - quick look both ways and over the lights - still red but luckily no one coming - "HB to B21" silence - seems strange - then a small voice "B21 to HB" I wait for the dreaded word POLACC, but then I hear "B21 to HB, can I have recovery please I have damaged my blue light" - Phew thinks I not so bad, he wont get suspended for that - "HB to B21, Clarify, how did you damage your blue light?" - Deafening silence - small voice then says "B21, I'm upside down in a field" -
For the first time I heard the Sergeant actually start to snigger, then giggle, then a full throated guffaw he was actually still virtually in tears of laughter when we went "on Scene" - Sorry sight - B21 hadn't made the bottom corner and sailed straight on, nosed into ditch and flipped over hedge on its roof - sure enough it had a damaged blue light !! "BS40 to HB, recovery for TVP Ford Escort MF333 - with damaged blue light please
"HB to BS40, confirm this is a POLACC". Another breathless hush. I don't know whether it was because he was amused or what but for whatever reason he then said "BS40 to HB, Negative POLACC, just a damaged blue light, will deal internally" - Silence and then a collective sigh HB to BS40 , Roger, out"
The red hunter got away, but B21 found himself back on foot patrol and I got my chance to drive - strange how things work out
evenin all
mog

It always bloody rains in Wales

2005-03-09T02:04:00.000Z

As some of you know I am a caravanner - not one of the sad, bucket and chuck it types - but one of the Range Rover and 26ft twin axle van with satelite TV and full central heating, fixed bed etc - I don't. however speed on the motorway or, conversely hold people up on other roads - (unfortunately a life time in law enforcement keeps reminding me of how easy it is to get points on the licence) ! So as part of my re-habilitation into the world - having been struck down in the prime of life by the dreaded tummy lurgie, followed by the heavy cold giving me a good kicking when I'm down - She who must be obeyed, after confering with the rest of the Coven (mother and sister) decide that as its "Mothers Day" on Sunday, and we won't see them again till after Easter, We will all meet at Newport (used to be famous as "Home of the mole wrench)(aside - has anyone ever tried to wrench a mole?) As Mumsie lives in Bray, Sister lives somewhere unpronouncable in Wales and we live in Oxfordshire. She (etc) then decides as that as I am not signed off the Dr's Certificate till Tuesday we can go down on the Friday and stay over the weekend. "But, my little cabbage", I say with passion still coughing and sneezing, "It always bloody rains in Wales". "Don't wimp out on me, mog - the change of air will do you good". So - much against my better judgement, we load up the truck and move the family
Brecon Beacons - my Arse ! Every flogging road sign is written in two languages English and something else with multiple fffs and the odd ww - Given that when Welsh was actually spoken by SOME of the inhabitants of this outcrop of our home Island (GB)
Motorways, Bus lanes, speed cameras etc were not invented - Why in the name of Offa and his beloved dyke do they need to invent words for them with 3 fffs and a double ww ??? And it bloody well rained - all weekend - and to cap it all Swindon town got beat !
Arrrrgh
mystic

I Been Struck down in the prime of life

2005-03-01T12:48:00.000Z

Sorry to anyone out there who reads the ramblings of a grumpy old man like me but I done been ill! - All Winter I have been taking my Cod liver oil pill, every day with my "Danacol"drinking yograt, had my flu jab and generally gloated over all those on my team who succumbed to the dreaded winter lurgies ! We have had a particulary vicious tummy bug doing the rounds, especially round the younger ladies on the team ! The good old, politically correctness, dead from the neck up boss suggested that the ladies weren't washing their hands properly after using the loo- This, as can be imagined, went down like a lead balloon and after a longish chat with the diversity advisor he was a lot quieter with his opinions - the mumbling didn't die down until he went down with the bug himself ! - Needless to say I got it, having then spent four or five days within sight of the loo got a nasty cold and sore throat etc - so have been off work dosing myself with hot lemon drinks, paracetemol, hot toddies etc. Have not felt like logging on at all - just logged on and been through the loads of e mail at home - I dread to think how many I got waiting at work !! Have been signed off for another week so probably won't be able to wind my self up to do a proper blog until next week - until then Hasta la Vista
Sniffle, Sniffle
Mog

Superman

2005-02-12T08:16:00.000Z

Ran across an old buddy at the Bowls Club the other night - he's also retired but luckily managed to pay off his mortgage early so can now "doss about" and drink in the Bowls Club Bar (cheap beer !) We had one or two and started reminiscing, as you do.
"Remember that first week of nights we did, when you arrived over here from Wycombe?"says Bob
"Come on, you remember, the night you turned into "Supermog". "Ah yes, I remember now"
Bob had taken me out in one of the Pandas to show me the area. We had a very large, but very rural area, right up in the top corner of Oxfordshire - right where it borders on to Wilts and Glos (Lechlade). We had done a bit of a run round and had been over to Wantage to check the post (our main Station for the area in those days) and had parked up on the forecourt of the Garage at Stanford in the Vale on the A417 to observe the road between Faringdon and Stanford. Bob had already said this was a good spot
As we were plagued by local toe-rags (technical term)
who would steal cars and race them down the 417.
"Well, there you go", says Bob, as a one eyed, grubby looking Mark 2 Cortina (it was a long time ago) lurches out of the High St and right towards Faringdon - "Its *******, well known local car "TWOC"er (taking without consent for the uninitiated)To digress, once upon a time, a local Herb would take someone's car and when stopped would say "You cannot prove that I have stolen this car, as I did not intend to keep it" (a main plank of the theft act -intent to permanently deprive) So there was niggly things like theft of petrol etc until the new Act, which was "Taking without Consent" - still not very good but at least slightly easier to prove - back to the story. Off we go, giving chase to matey boy, who is approaching full ramming speed - about 75 mph in the clapped out Cortina - Do quick vehicle check and person check whilst Bob is winding up the Panda, twos and blues etc. Sure enough the "alleged" driver is currently disqualified for earlier TWOC offences and the car definitely does not belong to him unless
A. he has bought it very recently or
B. He has changed sex !
In those days, before the advent of the mini roundabout the A417 came to an abrupt halt at the "T" junction with the A420 and we are racing up towards it, right on the tail of our friend.
"Get ready Mog" says Bob, "The way he's driving, he aint going to make the turn at the junction"
So, unbuckle the belt, hand on the door handle and get ready to eject. Sure enough - thirty feet of skid mark, straight across the main A420 and up on to the grass the other side. Bob meanwhile, who is in Ford's finest Escort has cadence braked down to about 10 mph, gone into a controlled slide and is now broadside on to the Cortina - Chummy has regained senses and got out of seat and is about to be away on his toes when - Supermog - having let go of the door handle as we broadsided, braced against the centre console and kicked off - literally flew out of the passenger seat , landing on top of the toe-rag, now to be known as "the prisoner" and splattered him across the bonnet of the Cortina. In those days, I was a tad lighter (about 3 stone) but still "substantial" and landing on the prisoner took all the air out of him
"I give in" he squealed (after the requisite caution)(You're nicked you little S****T) I swear that it was about 10-15 feet that I flew like a blue clad avenger but as with all good stories - the distance gets greater every time it got told and the legend of Supermog, the flying cop got started - for a little while at least. Next time I chased him the little toad got away - but that's another story
mornin all
Mog

Re-Capping earlier Re-incarnations

2005-02-04T10:18:00.000Z

Been out for a while in me caravan - Have been struggling on by my self at work for a year or so, had a temporary "Acting" team leader sent from Milton Keynes to train up and to assist me with the 35 Personal Development Reviews (PDRs) - that I had to do on my own last year ! - Anyway, poor girl , strain of 2 hours a day travelling, partner problems etc sent her off sick with stress, so back to being on my own (other teams have three team leaders - was someone trying to tell me something ?) - Two weeks ago I get another "Acting" - much better bet - organised - quick learner, and stranger than a strange thing that's been to strange school etc, was the sister of two old comarades from my Army days - got me back, more active in the Regimental Association - Swing the lamp, pull up a sandbag and I'll tell some war stories. The upshot of all the above machinations is that I was due to do several early finishes 7pm to 4 am instead of 7pm to 7am - My mate in the duties Department had noticed that my new Acting team leader would be on her own from 4am - till 7am, so had changed another team leader from days to nights to "cover" her. Bloody hell - first time early finish for over a year - then I thought - if there's two of them why not go the whole hog - so I asked for, and got, 2 spare rest days, coupled with the normal 4 off, making 6 whole days off so She who must be obeyed, said "ideal time to test out our new satellite installation on the van - So off we jolly well went to Moreton in Marsh, a lovely town deep in the heart of the Cotswolds and - lo and behold when the master switch was thrown it made like a James Bond Movie - up went the dish - whizzed round on its motors, up and down like a slow motion dervish - red lights turned to green - insert "Sky" card in digibox - and just in time to watch the gooners getting thrashed by them up north ! - Wonders of modern technology.
So we got back last night - and I thought I would check my blog to see if anyone had read it
and found I had stirred up a minor furore - I have always been slightly to the right of Chengis Khan's toothbrush in my politics but have never, ever, let my views colour my work either in Ireland, Cyprus or other trouble spots in the Army or on the Miner's Strike, and some very heavy "demos" whilst as a serving Policeman - and forty or so years ago political correctness was wearing union flag under pants, raising one's hat whilst hitting old ladies and the British Army still had the best infantry in the World - Not long after the 66 World Cup I was drinking with some German friends - all ex WW2 German Squaddies, and we had long discussions about the second world war - German Officers and British tommies were the preferred combination - again - remembering that we were deep in the heart of the Cold War - and right at the spot where the Red Hordes were going to stream into Europe - Sorry again if I offended any one with my Jingoistic tale but there you go
god bless you all
mystic

They Think Its All Over

2005-01-28T11:26:00.000Z

I joined the Army in 1964 – spent 1965 in the Med (Malta etc) and was then, along with most of the British Army posted to Germany (or BAOR)(British Army of the Rhine), as it was known for reasons best known to itself. My Regiment was posted to one of the Backsides of the Universe or Minden as it was known. When I researched the area later in life (watched the History Channel mainly!) I discovered that the Minden Gap was where the Red hordes were going to come charging through life the mongol horde, on a wave of T62 main battle tanks – the estimate was 100 tanks to overwhelme a Company position armed with mainly 4 or 5 84mm Carl Gustav anti tank weapons or if you were support company 4 wombat 120 mm anti tank guns – You would last just long enough to kiss your Ass, or donkey if you had one,goodbye, before being blown to molecules – This if they decided on conventional warfare – or perhaps being tactical nuked, or gassed etc if they decided to let technology take the strain. Us fat and happy foot soldiers didn’t know any of this – we just firkled about on these large NATO exercises – you know the thing – drive within a mile of a german farmer’s barn and he sets it on fire and claims damages So there we were in our second year – 1966 – lots of good footy on – and German TV even showed some of the England games – and the local bars stocked up for what even they knew to be the inevitable final. Mien Gott, it happened. There we were, England in the Final of the World Cup with the Kaiser’s (Franz Beckenbaur) men.
My platoon were in a bar in Siemens Strasse watching the TV surrounded by the locals. Come half time and the bar owner started to get out the beer mats with “Deutchland, World Miesters” on them. My lot started to get quiet, an extremely bad sign with squaddies ! and then those immortal words “They think its all over “ The first bar stool went through the window – I was about 3 half litres of good German beer (Weser pills) brave and led from the front what a fight ! to the immensely politically incorrect war cries of “two world wars and one world cup” we cried havoc and let loose the dogs of war – I know I ended up in the local jail with half my section – along with another 40 or 50 squaddies from the garrison and it eventually cost us another 100 marks each in damages but it was worth it. Another great battle added to the Regiment’s Battle honours the”Battle of Minden 1966!!! “
mornin all
mog

Bent Coppers !

2005-01-20T13:11:00.000Z

We lived in a very nice police house. This was quite an imposing building, nicely detached on its own plot. Its Office attached,and a very nice double garage so that the van could go in one side and you could put your own car in the other. Of course, being TVP the van wouldn’t fit as the blue light on top was too tall to go under the swing up door. This meant that unless you had two cars, unlikely on police wages ! one of the garages would be going spare. The guy who owned the garage on the other corner was a friend – He was a useful sort of chap, he bought and sold cars at auction and could always be relied on if cheap reliable transport was needed. His tea pot was always full and you could keep an eye on all sorts from the back room of the garage. Anyway, another of my friends on the new estate was having problems with kids damaging a very nice new catamaran he had bought a really upmarket Hobie Cat which he kept on a trailer in his drive. He knew I sailed (both sailboards and dinghies) and had a large garden in the police house. So he asked me if I would look after the Cat as no one would damage it in the garden of the police house – the caveat being that I could use it anytime I wanted to. This worked out nicely as I could never afford a beast like that. So, Mike, the garage owner also did “Weddings, Airport runs, and funeral limo” on the side and had a very nice Rolls Royce for this. He had to keep this in a compound at the back of the garage. This was a wired off bit locked with a padlock and chain and not very secure. He noticed the free garage, and the fact that I had Dave’s Catamaran in the garden, and asked me if he could put his Roller under cover in my spare garage.
So, a bit cheekily, I said that he could under the same conditions as Dave’s Cat. He didn’t even flinch – Any time you want to use it that’s fine with me – I’ll even put petrol in it (11mph) and you can use it on the garage insurance as I have to employ a bloke to drive it for weddings etc. The upshot being there’s this great thing sticking out of the garage as it was a bit long and the door kept blowing up as it would not quite click on to the lock. Next thing I know I get a phone call from someone I knew at HQ telling me to watch my back as I’m being investigated for being “bent”. Strange, that’s usually for the old time ex metpol CID not village bobbies. Sure enough comes the call in to the main police station. In I go, ushered in to the Inspector’s office to “cool my heels” – then comes the Spanish Inquisition ! Insp ***** and Sgt !!!!! from Complaints and Discipline.
“We’ve had a complaint from one of your parishioners that you must either have a private income that we don’t know about, or you’re on the take “ “I must caution you that etc etc etc “
“wot”, says I, confused ? “No doubt you have checked my bank account and know that until pay day next week I am about £20 overdrawn”
“Exactly”, “How can you afford expensive cars, and boats then ??”
“Wot”, says I, in another stunning verbal riposte – “I’ve got a 10 year old Volvo estate, in dire need of a full service” and a 5 year old caravan which is paid for”
A Great light suddenly dawns - With some fast talking and the general belief that no one could be that stupid I manage to convince them that all is above board, couple of phone calls and two statements of ownership and the wheels stuck back on to the wagon.
It would appear that some sticky beaking, nosy b*****d on the patch had seen said car and boat in my garden and leapt to the conclusion that their village bobby was some sort of bent copper, like on the TV ! I ask you, deep in rural Oxfordshire (mind you the Krogers Lived in Great Barrington) just a couple of villages down the road. Just as a final sort of cherry on top. I only used the Roller once, just too sort of try it out and say that I had driven one. Drove she who must be obeyed into the middle of Oxford. Parked on the double yellow lines right outside the Randolph Hotel, the doorman in waistcoat and top hat no less – opened the doors and ushered us in. Went in to bar, had an orange juice and watched to see if Morse would come in (he didn’t) went back out a half hour later. The doorman ushered us in to car and we drove off. Its true, the power of a Roller negates all parking wardens !!!
He sold the car a while later, and we got a new van with a lower, badge bar type blue light instead of the blue “tit”
On the top. This fitted in to the garage. I had a happy summer sailing the Cat, as Dave admitted he had only bought it to impress his new partner and was scared of sailing it as it was a bit of a beast – you could get the damned thing up to about 30 knots in a good wind and it would literally tow a water skier behind it ! He sold it in the autumn – pity, and life returned to normal in the village. I would still like to know who “informed” on me.
There were some shifty looks in the pub for a few weeks but I never did find out !
Mornin all
Mog

The Ghost of Christmas Past

2005-01-12T07:05:00.000Z

Now the dust has settled over the “festive?” season I can start thinking about Christmas Past ! As a Village Bobby for most of my career I seem to have had most Christmases working and it brings back memories of sad days going to sudden deaths (lots of lonely folk tend to die on Christmas day) The usual “Domestic Disputes” about Christmas Tea time when the turkey hits the wall and the drink starts the fights and spending Christmas evening in a cheery cell block with drunk drivers who have usually caused vast amounts of carnage, both vehicular and personal and usually come out of it unscathed, drunk and belligerent ! Waiting for the Solicitor to be dragged out of his Christmas Night Celebration and so it goes.
A policeman’s lot is not a ‘nappy one. On a lighter note, One Cold and crisp Christmas morn I’m on a nominal 9 to 5 so I ring in, and full of bonhomie and probably scotch
The Duty Sergeant says, “Don’t bust a gut today Mog, just spin the village once or twice to show the flag, then stay at home. As long as you are by the phone, we’ll call you if we need you” Merry Christmas thinks I, and ring round the outlaws etc, round to the Residence for Drinkeys and She who must be obeyed will do the turkey lunch time instead of a late night supper (dinners were definitely a moveable feast in the Mog household in those days) So there we all are – Delicious smells from kitchen area, log burning on the open fire (typical police house – too tight to have central heating) carols on the stereo and tinkling sherry glasses from the assorted Aunts and GAs Christmas tree lights flashing (not on a timer just a bad connection) Just about ready to “risk” a small beer when
BANG BANG BANG on the Office door – (bugger off we’re closed in a very small aside) Heavy sigh as I recognise the face of the very rich and obviously upset Company Lawyer who bought the big house in the woods a few months back and spent a fortune on lights, alarms etc etc and was the bane of my existence forever reminding me how many council/police committee/Senior Officers etc etc he knew ! He felt the need for his own personal policeman and Mog apparently fitted the bill – “Look after him”, says my Inspector, “He’s a nasty piece of work, but he knows where a lot of bodies are buried”
So, slightly less than full of Christmas spirit I wave him in to the Office (freezing as no central heating !)” What can I do for you Sir” No preamble, no compliments of the season and here’s a bottle of scotch Mog straight in to it
“Listen. there’s a band of Oiks ( he said Oiks!!) obviously from the Council estate (far side of the woods) Who have been given motorbikes for Christmas and they are up in my woods (his woods now, I thought they were public)
causing a terrific row and making all kinds of noise – I’m holding a Christmas party for all sorts of important people, including I may add, your Chief Constable I want you to go out right now and put a stop to this ! Slamming of doors, whooshing of Jaguar and Orf . Apologies to assorted relatives and in to trusty van (Bravo 39) Book on and tell Sgt – going to woods to sort out Oiks (I ask you Oiks !!) It is, at this point, a very quiet otherwise Christmas morning, so the next thing I know there are 2 Divisional cars, a dog van and 2 traffic cars (nothing to do with the fact that the Chief is at old Pig Face’s (She who must be obeyed description of the git) party. All volunteering to assist. Ah well a quick solution then at least I can get back to have lunch at lunch time ! As we all know, the best laid plans (what have mice got to do with it??) The plan to surround and deal comes together far too well and as we tighten the net to the big dip in the middle of the woods we have at least 8 or 9 of the little darlings in it. I hate to say it, Old Pig Face was right; they were from the estate on the far side of the woods. So we load them up in the big van, bikes pushed into bushes and take them home. Convoy stops outside the biggest block of flats – by now it’s getting on to be about 2 o’clock. Quick chat with the parents and up and away ! I don’t know where I get these ideas from !! The next thing we know is that a large number of angry and p****d up gents come boiling out of the block and the shouted comments range from the incredible to the inedible via unbelievable and the mildest is “These spoilsports have stopped the kids having fun on Christmas day”, and a full scale riot starts. By the time we have got it under control, arrested about 15, recovered one burnt out police van, turned another back onto its wheels and got that recovered, had our wounds treated and returned to the festive cell block it was 9 o’clock at night ! By the time the prisoners have been sorted out, property recovered and reports written its Boxing Day. In to van, creep home, quietly enter house – large note on Kitchen door “Welcome home, your dinner’s in the dog” “Don’t you dare wake me up when you come to bed” – Ah well, nothing changes
Mornin all
Mog

Senseless

2005-01-06T21:54:00.000Z

Doing the post on the murder reminded me of another senseless death I got involved in. This one concerns neighbours and started with the radio message nearly every police officer hates “Go to ********, neighbourly dispute in progress” “both parties out in the road and appear to be about to come to blows according to witnesses”
Peddle the van up to full ramming speed ! about 40 mph up hill (this episode took place in High Wycombe, where the hills are so steep even mountain goats have nose bleeds !!) “B39(my callsign in those balmy days when we all knew each other) “B39, on scene and dealing)(no 10 codes either – American cop TV still in its infancy)
The scene is set – quite a nice area, detached houses in ¼ acre plots, two well dressed gents shouting nose to nose over the garden wall !
“Right chaps, you come with me, and you go back in to your house” – rule one – separate the contestants then they can both start on you!
“Right Sir, what’s the problem” – and so it unfolds
MR A, had applied for planning permission for a double garage on the side of the house next to Mr B. No problems in the first instance as Mr A and Mr B got on well and discussed it first. Mr B had no objections, and if it looked ok was probably going to get the same builder to do a double garage for him. So far, so good. The builders came, saw and sat down and had tea etc., and eventually built this magnificent edifice on the side of Mr A’s house.
They finished off, put in the new fangled electric doors and everyone stood and looked and OOHED and AAAHED as the doors opened and closed at the push of the button.
THEN COMES THE CRUNCH. Mr B, looking at the thing from the road realises that the garage is encroaching on to his property by AT LEAST 6 INCHES. When they were building it one of the things they had to do was take down the garden wall between the properties to dig footings etc and it was amicably agreed that Mr A would pay for the re-build of the wall and put a nice brick pier at the road end. Mr B was right ! it was noticeable, if you really looked hard that the wall was nearer his house than before and the side gate would not fit. Mr B gets a strop on and says “It will have to go”. “What,”says Mr A. “I’ll pay for a new gate etc etc etc “ “Nope” says Mr B, “Its coming down – its on my land without permission”, and proceeds to dig his heels in.
Enter TVP in the guise of Mog the magnificent (as I was in those days)
“We can sort this out amicably, can’t we gents”
WRONG !! This goes the whole route – Solicitor’s letters, County Courts, even I get dragged in to give evidence, and as is usual in these cases the worst possible outcome
ITS GOT TO GO. Appeals, much shouting over the now disputed wall, wives and children (who used to go on holidays together now pointedly ignoring each other in the street. Thousands spent in legal fees – all over 6 inches of land !
Comes the day when the bulldozers are due to appear. From evidence gathered later from witnesses in the road it seems that the forces of evil (in the shape of the council road gang) who were going to demolish the said garage had turned up and started a brew (as they do) when Mr A comes out to gloat – Its got that far ! – The usual shouting started and then witnesses stated that Mr B came out of the garage holding a spade which he was brandishing in a threatening fashion. “Don’t threaten me” says Mr A, “Its coming down today !” “Over my dead body”, says Mr B
“That can be arranged” says Mr A and the usual insults start to fly – Mr B suddenly seems to realise that he’s holding what becomes known as “the murder weapon”
and crash bang whallop – murder done over 6 stupid inches of ground !!!
Both houses ended up sold to pay for legal fees, one family ended up with no father, the other with a father in jail – what can you say – senseless ? – they didn’t think so
Evenin all
Mog

Murder

2005-01-06T01:29:00.000Z

I went to a murder once ! – There I was doing a meal relief for the Station Duty Officer, leaning on the front counter and minding my own business when the Front door opens and in comes this little old lady – all dressed in black and walking all hunched over as they do.
“I’ve murdered me ‘usband” says she
“Ok” says I, “take a seat and we’ll get you a cup of tea”
Off I go and get a cup of tea from the switchboard lady
Old girl still sitting in the front office, takes tea and starts slurping. Shortly afterwards the SDO re-appears. Find another officer in the back yard
“Oi, Dave, we’ve got a murderer in the front office, have you got a car ?”
“affirmative”, says he (been watching too many American Cop dramas has Dave)
So we go round to the front where I go in, and tell the old lady we are giving her a lift home. She gets quietly into the car and tells where she lives. A little village outside the main town. We pull up at her isolated cottage and she waits in the car whilst Dave and I go round the side as we have noticed that the back door is open.
Push the door open and
“GREAT LEAPING LOONS – THE FLOOR IS AWASH WITH WHAT LOOKS SUSPICIOUSLY LIKE BLOOD”
Look a bit closer and there he is flat on his face with an axe stuck right through the back of his head. At this point we turn more than marginally green. Training takes over and we start shouting incoherently down the radio.!!
Eventually we remember the little old lady and there she is still sitting serenely in the back of the police car.
When the dust settles and she is eventually interviewed by the Detective Inspector – “All right Shag, I’ll take it from here” –(he called everybody Shag for some reason)
Dave, being a bit more street savvy that me, says
“Hang on Guv”(he’d been watching too much Sweeny)
Wait till the Custody Sergeant has booked her in. This ensures that Dave’s and my name are on the top of the Charge Sheet “Arrested on suspicion of Murder” A small but valid point when commendations are handed out.
Anyway it was a moot point as there was never going to be any trial ! – What happened was:-
Her husband had a distinct “sniff” every time he said something – and having done this every time he spoke for the 50 odd years they had been married she apparently got p*****d off with this and said “if you do that one more time I’ll kill you”
“sniff, Wh***” WHOMP and there he was “as a door nail”
as the old saying goes.
She was quietly committed at the “Queens pleasure”
It’s a funny old world
Evenin All
Mog

Bloody Fireworks

2005-01-03T08:59:00.000Z

It’s a grim old thing when you can’t enjoy New Year’s Eve, with a few friends, lots of Scottish wine, ale and assorted nibbles. I’m sure that when I last looked we weren’t Chinese, or in any way Asian. SO WHY TO THEY HAVE TO LET FIREWORKS OFF – We had it at Christmas, now most of the evening our dogs were going ballistic and trying to dig holes in the furniture and get under carpets and things. They were bloody terrified – rather spoilt the evening with a 70 kilo German Shepherd climbing into my lap every time a firework went off, and the cross-breed weeing herself on the carpet in fright. Someone must have spent a fortune as they were great big fireworks and they went on for hours !! This tended to have the effect of a complete sense of humour failure from She who must be obeyed which does put a bit of a crimp in the proceedings so not too much in the way of alcohol and the dogs ate most of the nibbles by way of bribes to keep them quiet ! – Lets hope the New Year is brighter and
Better. On a happier note I got the complete Series one to three of “The West Wing” over Christmas – greatest TV Soap I have every watched. I also splashed out on a portable DVD player, So that when She who must be obeyed is watching East Enders/Hospital dramas/Neighbours etc I can plug in and get my fill of President Bartlett and his staff. God Bless America!
Mornin All
Mog

I Bet Jeremy Clarkson's Laughing

2004-12-29T06:15:00.000Z

Having worked for the Queen, and latterly the Ancient William for all of my working life Christmas has always been a season of “Your single – its for the married men”, or “You don’t have children, let those with kids have the time off”. This has happened for so many years I could not believe it when out of the blue I checked my shift rosters and found that I had Christmas day off, and one of my colleagues offered to do Boxing day so – blank amazement on face of she who must be obeyed when I gave her the news – “Off from the 22nd to the 28th m’dear”
Says I . “Great”, says she “We’ll take the caravan down to Maidenhead and go to mumsie’s for Christmas”
Thinks “What happened to me grand plan to get absolutely shit faced and wake up Boxing day – foiled again SOOOO we loaded up the van and headed for a little 5 van site in Holyport – just behind mumsie’s house on the Windsor Road at Bray. As usual, everything started to go wrong. We appear to have had a mouse(s) in the van and there were little mouse presents everywhere . More worrying was the intermittent electrical fault on the heater system. Fired up the Generator and worked off mains power – all right but still no gas heating ? Just before we set off I changed the gas cylinder in Witney so thought I had at least one and a half before it ran out. Was ok Christmas eve, then Christmas morning – low gas warning
Check bottles – both empty It would appear that when I went to the hop in Witney to change the cylinder I picked up the empty one instead of a full one – Dumbo. Ran round all morning Boxing day trying to find someone selling propane cylinders (the orange ones ) – no chance –lots of blue butane ones – they freeze up in cold weather, and true to form we have just hit the coldest snap of the winter. Ended up buying a small electric fan heater and ramping up the generator to run it ! used up a gallon of petrol on boxing day but kept warm at least. Packed up yesterday and came home – Two nights at work and then back out in the van for New Year – I am a glutton for punishment !!
Tired !
Mog

How to Give Bad Advice

2004-12-22T06:25:00.000Z

There I was looking after my own small patch of God’s land and Lord of all I surveyed. I had a substantial Wood right in the middle of the patch, and as often happens; in the middle of the wood was a large pit. The sort of thing that in my day we used to cycle up and down. Times change and the little cherubs had trials motorcycles with exhausts sounding like a large bottle of wasps! This wood was also the recreation area for dog walkers, recreational walkers, lovers and other outdoor pursuits. In the course of my patrols I used to love walking through the woods until the scourge of the gits on motorcycles coming whizzing through, causing alarm and correspondence. One little old man with a walking stick grasped me with a grip like the ancient mariner and told me tales of woe about being forced into bushes and stinging nettles by these unthinking little toe-rags.
“Well”, says I. “What I would do when I heard one coming, would be to hide behind a tree and when they came past, I would stick my walking stick through the front wheel of the bike. That would give them a shock!!”
Having given the old chap some food for thought I resumed my steady 2mph peregrinations through God’s wonderful creation. Later that week I’m in the High Street, when a call comes through on the bat phone
“To the woods, it cries!” “No, No, I’ll tell the vicar” – Sorry wrong joke!
“To the woods” it cries, “There’s been an accident, Ambulance attending” So girding up of the loins, and full ramming speed on the trusty velocipede, I make my way to the woods. “Good oh”, thinks me medics have got here first as I can see the blue lights of the ambulance twinkling. “What’s the score?” – says I the paramedic is working on what looks like one of my little biker chums
“Broken arm. Several ribs and lacerations to both legs, and it looks like his bike is a write off”. “What the hell did you hit?” I ask the poor little wounded soldier, as he lays there groaning. “I didn’t hit nothing”, he replies with the council house grammar of his forbears. “Some old geezer was hiding behind a tree and as I rode past he stuck a stick in me front wheel, and I went right over the top!!”
Exit stage left pursued by a bear !!

Wonders of Technology

2004-12-21T22:19:00.000Z

I have just bought myself an IPOD as a sort of Christmas present. Mainly because nobody I know would buy me one anyway – even for Christmas !! It is amazing. First the box it comes in is beautifully designed. Its packaging fits, all the equipment with it has little plastic protectors and the docking station and mains plug are really heavy, well engineered bits of kit. The unit is self is a little shiny white plastic and metal brick. The controls are feather light and once worked out, really simple. Load the disk on to the computer and up, up and away ! This is a superb bit of kit
I now begin to see how Apple Mac users stay with them. Why did we go with the other lot when this sort of kit is available ? It happened with Videos – Betamax went and VHS stayed. This ranks alongside the new sky box for simplicity and even old fools like me can operate it.
Going into PC world for another look at the Apple Mac on me next day off – who knows – perhaps another convert !
Evenin all
Mog

Stranger than Fiction

2004-12-19T01:08:00.000Z

Took a report of an abandoned Marina Estate, apparently parked at side of road. Left with keys in. Been there two days now, not really amazing that no one had nicked it! Did a Computer check and came up with a local owner. Sent officers to address, real bottom of the range council estate. Officers book on scene then come back immediately to say that all the doors on the house are open – local kids running in an out but no adults at this time. Stranger and stranger ? Twilight zone here we come. House full of furniture – food in fridge, lights and gas on. Beds made – well spooky.
Police enquiries with neighbours reveal (standard terminology) “Aint you ‘eard mate” “He won the lottery,last week ,fifteen million.” “Heard it on the car radio driving home”. According to witnesses (standard terminology again) The car owner was seen to stop the car jump out making strange whooping noises and call a taxi. According to neighbours – he got home, grabbed the wife and kids, packed passports only, taxied to London and was now, apparently living the life of Riley in Jamaica.
Further enquiries with Immigration and Jamaican Police confirmed this – He told them “Anyone who wants the car ??? can take it away, keys are in it “ and the Council can keep their sodding house – furniture and fittings free”
Funny thing – they haven’t returned yet – that was six months ago now
Evenin all
Mog

Damned Furriners

2004-12-12T10:53:00.000Z

I never really thought much about the American sense of humour back in the late sixties. American trips were not so common and our view of them was coloured by the writings of Thurber, Steinbeck and Co and by early TV shows of Happy Days, Beverley Hill Billies etc. So when a fellow Corporal and I decided to go back to UK, from British Hondura, overland through Mexico, into the States and home via RAF from Washington we did not think much about it.
Arriving at Nogales, Mexico, the border town, we scouted about a bit and found the “Official Border Crossing Point”.
We were in uniform (jungle greens, and berets), carrying large Bergen rucksacks with tents, bedrolls etc, including large machete type jungle knives strapped on to the top, and Union Flags sewn on the Top flap.
There were two distinct crossing points. A very nice, airconditioned, carpeted building marked “US and Domestic” and a sort of Cattle shed hot and dusty with long lines of persons outside marked “Foreigners and Aliens”. So we thought, bugger waiting about with the hoi polloi we’ll take the easy option. So in we go to the nice, air conditioned, carpeted US and Domestic building. Two very large Americans festooned with guns, cords, badges and patches, wearing what they call Smokey the Bear hats – but we call Boy Scout (Baden Powell) hats ! approach. We politely enquire regarding entry to the Land of the Free ! At which point they put on their War faces and start shouting – “Listen you foreigners – get back in line with the wet backs in the Aliens entry point”, and start to try and shove us out of the building. Up speaks John Bull, whipping out his trusty Blue Passport (in those days we had proper Passports!)
“Listen my good man”(always a good start when dealing with over officious authority)
“It says here”(opening at page one)
“Her Brittanic Majesty’s Principle Secretary for Foreign Affairs, REQUIRES you to assist the bearer of this Passport without let or hinderance, AND, apart from anything else, We are English, YOU are foreigners !”
Strange, they turned a funny shade of purple – went well with the purple pocket flaps on their shirts – Next thing we know its into the cell block and the strip search and the significant putting on the rubber gloves with the elastic snap ! Ouch, oh, oh the enema didn’t help much either. The machete on top of the bed roll had slipped round underneath it, so they were also trying to charge us with concealed weapons as well as “unspecified”, “possible” charges of trying to enter the Country illegally and some sort of drugs charges – At this time the only drugs us squaddies used were Asprin to get rid of the hangovers ! Luckily I had been going out with a Secretary in the American Consulate in Belize, so she had arranged an A1 multiple entry, diplomatic Visa for us ( all multi coloured and taking up a whole page in the Passport.
They had absolutely no sense of humour at all – it took several phone calls and umming and arring before they would let us in (although after that I wasn’t sure I wanted to go ! Mind you I’ve dined out on the story several times and most of us seemed to think it was amusing ! strange persons our colonial cousins
Evenin all
Mog

Enough Already

2004-12-07T00:51:00.000Z

Enough already. I have just read through the nominations for the 2004 Blog of the year awards, and though I swore that I would not get hot under the collar about current affairs and would write about things which amused my in my life as a squaddie, and latterly as a policeman. we all have to take a stand somewhere. Most of the blogs were beautifully written, erudite politically aware comments on current affairs – not like the blogs I love to read, Scary Duck, Neighbour of the hoors, Howling spoons and company who’s amusing, sometimes raw and certainly not PC logs have something to say. Fox hunting – who cares (except the foxes) let’s do something about the gangs of “traveller types” who go coursing then abandon their dogs when police get close to them – badger baiters and dog/cock fights YES – lock em up – Persons who break in to your property to steal (or worse) follow the American Special Forces motto – “kill em all, let god sort them out”. Teachers being beaten up at school then the education committees forcing head teachers to take the little scrotes back ! Fire fighters and paramedics being stoned and petrol bombed whilst trying to save lives !
I admit to bias about the Police – but how can anyone in their right minds other than those with 20/20 hindsight
Want to prosecute officers who have a split second in which to decide whether or not to shoot the person coming towards them waving an imitation firearm/something that looks like a firearm, and then wonder why the other officers hand in their firearm’s tickets when they hand down a ludicrous decision. NO it’s not lack of sympathy for the poor person who does get shot or their families BUT if they weren’t behaving in that manner in the first place it would not put the officers between the rock and the hard place.
WE ARE ALL TO BLAME for this state of affairs. The educational experiments of the sixties (remember) now are the parents and grandparents of the don’t care generation – no respect for anyone How can any sane person break into an 84 yr old pensioner’s house and beat her up(or worse) for the sake of a few pounds ? School bullies? yes but bullying the teachers ! The police are just as culpable – lack of resources and “quicker response times” lead to the Panda car – no more bobbies pounding the beat – just reactive policing – send a car – the Old fashioned bobby – tea drinking, school visiting, helping old ladies across the road, Gone for ever. Now we have restorative justice ?, cautioning ? ARRRRGH – bring back hanging and flogging ! We are all so careful about being PC. we are all being bullied by Religious leaders from the Pope’s views on condoms, via the Imams trying to force Islam down the throats of the majority Christian population to the DUP’s “No surrender” policies. Gay rights, illegal immigrants’ rights, everybody else’s bloody rights. ENOUGH I SAY ENOUGH – SOMEONE SOMEWHERE DO SOMETHING BEFORE THE COUNTRY COLLAPSES UNDER THE RIGHTS OF SPANISH FISHERMEN TO DEPLETE OUR FISH STOCKS WHILST OUR TRAWLERS ARE LAID UP – WE LOSE WHAT’S LEFT OF OUR CURRENCY
WE LOSE OUR STATE RELIGION, WE ALL HAVE TO CARRY ID CARDS, AND ALL RIGHT THINKING ENGLISHMEN IMMIGRATE TO ANTARCTICA !!! CARPE SCROTUM !!

Reply After Caution

2004-12-05T06:17:00.000Z

You remember the days of the great British Police Caution, after arrest (mostly miss-quoted on TV Cop dramas) the formal caution on arrest went like “You are not obliged to say anything, but any thing you do say will be taken down in writing and may be used in evidence”. This tended to be learned parrot fashion at training school, and was given out when muckling on to the toe-rag you happened to be “swifting” in one breath in a sort of monotone. One little scrote always replied to this “I’ll tell you anything you want officer but please stop hitting me”. So I duly wrote this down as his “reply after caution”. For some reason, unfathomable to persons of normal mind he decided to go “not guilty” this time. Strange as I had actually caught him driving the stolen car and leaped on to him as he was trying to get out of the driver’s seat (unfamiliar recessed door handles apparently). So there we were he had his day in Court.
Up stands me, a vision in my pressed blue uniform with the little halo over the top and the words “trust me” embroidered on the back !!! Produces trusty pocket book, “notes made at the time, your worship”
“And I arrested the defendant, in the seat of the Ford Cortina, index number ABC123D, a vehicle which had been reported stolen some 2 hours before. I cautioned him and his reply after caution was”
“I will tell you anything you want officer, but please stop hitting me”
Dreadful silence for some seconds. The magistrate says,
“Can you repeat that Officer” – so I repeat it. Another silence. The magistrate then says
“Officer, did you in anyway assault the defendant ?”
I says, “Other than holding his arm whilst arresting him (It was always considered good practice to actually hold on to the defendant when arresting them- in case they were away on their toes for one thing !), and then handcuffing him before placing him in to the police vehicle, no your Worship” The magistrate still looks puzzled and then says to the defendant. “Did the Officer assault you on your arrest ?”
Scrote replies “Nah mate, he’s nicked me loads of times and unless you kick off he‘s all right” (told you he was not right in the head !)
“So why did you make that reply, knowing that the Officer would write it down, and produce it as evidence in court”
“Don’t know mate, but I thought it sounded funny at the time – didn’t think he’d write it all down”
“That, young man, is a typical example of the worst type of behaviour that you young persons of today seem to think is amusing”
“Gotcha”, thinks I
He tries to give some sort of rambling evidence on his own behalf about being in the passenger seat and as I had forced the vehicle into a wall whilst trying to stop the lunatic doing 60-70mph in a 30mph limit he couldn’t get out of the passenger side so had tried to get our of the driver’s door ?? – As there were about 10-15 witnesses to the pursuit, and subsequent arrest, who all, strangely enough only saw the defendant in the car, driving. This defence sort of fell apart.
The magistrate then says to chummie
“It is plain that you have not only wasted the Court’s time, the witnesses and the Officer’s time with your frivolous “not guilty” plea, you seem to find it amusing to make stupid statements after caution, you can therefore laugh this off” He then gave him 28 days in jug, £200 fine, disqualified him (again) from driving and £200 costs
I managed to get out of court before I fell about laughing.
Some times you have good days in court ! This was one of the best
Evenin all
Mog

Tales of the Village Bobby

2004-11-28T08:31:00.000Z

I spent a lot of my service as a Village Bobby. This is a much maligned job but certainly if you’re bent is helping people, rather than driving at a million miles an hour on traffic, or spending days in smoky bars with “snouts” on CID. I visited Schools, raised my hat when hitting old ladies, and generally strolled round the village in my tunic and funny hat. The advantage being that at the standard 2 mph walking speed it gave the locals ample time to invite you in for tea. After a few years of this, you got to follow the kids from crèche to infants, to junior then senior schools. In some cases on the poorer estates where birth control was being able to run faster than granddad! you watched several generations slide into the same old trap of no education, no job and the only way to get housing was lots of kids – but it had its compensations
You got a vastly extended, cast iron bladder from drinking so much tea, you EARNED the respect of the community by being in the square, every Friday and Saturday night at closing time to ensure that the noisy ones went home rather than breaking things up – No Kebab van in my village thank you – You lived in a substantial, detached house, with a little office, double garage (one for the van and one for your car) and were on every committee from housing, through schools to even the arts club and tennis club. Not a sparrow moved without me knowing ! Once a week a Sergeant would arrive at the house with a big blue bag of paperwork, quick cuppa and discuss what I would be doing next week, then pick up last week’s blue bag and head back to the bright lights ! This was in the days of fairly primitive radio – We had a Pye Westminster system in which the hand held radio came in two parts the transmitter then fitted into the car and became amplified as a car radio – wonders of modern science! My bit of the Thames Valley being fairly hilly – the car radio more or less worked but the hand held was not very good (bloody useless to be precise) You could shout for help all night long but no one would hear you ! One of the reasons for knowing all the drunks on the square so that if the worse came to the worst and you got a walloping you would know who done it and when you recovered (depending of the severity of the walloping) you could either take a few friends round and remonstrate with them, or “Nick” them one by one, take them in to the main station, where they could conveniently fall down the steps in the cell corridor!
But I digress – This is about the sheer idiocy of the powers that be in the Police Service back in the days when we didn’t need numbers as we all knew each other
Question! Why do Policemen have numbers?
Answer:- In case they get lost – Boom boom
So there we are 11pm ish, wife in jamas and dressing gown, just settling with Cocoa, I was just turning off the outside lights and locking up when “bang,bang, bang on the front door. I open up and there stands Mr Angry
“This is the Police house?”
“Yes”
“Right, let me in I want to use your phone!”
“Pardon?” still trying to be polite to this obviously rude man.
“Listen sonny”(He was about 5 years older than me) “I am a tax payer, I pay your wages, I’ve broken down and I want to use your phone to get a taxi to take me home, so none of your lip just show me where the phone is!” The Force actually paid for STRICTLY DUTY calls which had to be accounted for in a special book – and calling taxis did not fall in to this category and anyway the phone had been switched through to the lounge from the office and she who must be obeyed was in the lounge in her night things – not way Pedro !
So after telling this git his fortune, and sending him towards the phone box in the square rejoicing, I lock up and go to bed, forgetting this unseemly episode.
A week passes and even she who must be obeyed has stopped talking about the rude man who came late at night.
Out in the van, visiting outlying farms when a radio message – “Report to Area HQ, immediately, the Superintendent wants you” Wonder what that’s about
I did ask for the mounted Section for my village fete
And there’s that planning permission for a new garage on the main road? Ah well, wait and see.
On the mat outside office, - Secretary peeks out of her office – Mog, what have you done, We’ve had an official letter of complaint from the MP to the Chief! No idea thinks I, I caught the last poachers up on the MP’s estate,
Went to his last surgery in the village, to be on hand in case he needed to speak – Can’t think.
Needless to say, Mr Angry had written to his MP that I had been rude to him, refused to help him etc etc etc . After the usual shouting, bellowing and pawing of the carpet I managed to get in the odd word edge ways. Notwithstanding my years of service, the privacy of my own lounge (owned by TVP) and the fact that I would have had to pay for the call myself – I GOT AN OFFICIAL REPRIMAND which was entered on to my service records.
It was still there when I retired some 15 years later – and I got to see the actual file they keep on you – not the one produced at the end of each year for yearly reports. I read it again and I still could not believe it – The Superintendent thought I was being unreasonable!! Perhaps if Mr Angry called at his house late at night demanding something he would have let him in – MY ARSE ! – (it still rankles even now)
Evenin all
Mog

Sanctimonius Bastard Sergeant

2004-11-27T12:26:00.000Z

There once was a Police Sergeant, Welsh he was, and very “Chapel” with it. Lots of fire and brimstone look you and very straight laced. It is a well known fact that Police marriages are on shaky ground right from the off and the national averages run at more than two out of three breaking up. Very scathing about that was our Dai ! “You want to learn to keep your trousers buttoned” (very old fashioned was he – we had zip flies even then !) Fire and brimstone for the fornicators - It was inevitable ! The new WPC arrives and good old cupid fires his flaming arrow straight through our god fearing boss. Like a three balled tom cat was he, his tongue dragging along the ground, new after-shave (Thug or Rut or some such heavy musk) and lo and behold the maiden (actually someone else’s Mrs) was also struck by this blue clad sex god. It began to get noticeable, meal breaks taken at the same time. WPC **** , there are some observations to be kept on such and such premises tonight – I’ll take a plain car and pick up at 0200 hrs and we’ll stake it out. They even sat together in the canteen – the miserable bastard would never sit with the shift normally, in case someone asked him to buy the tea ! He even started to take her out in the Sgt’s car “to check on the unoccupied premises – Hah !
The wheels of the shift cunning bastard turn and we decide to try and catch them “at it”. Now comes the best bit. High Wycombe, for that is where this story is based, is a town of many, and bloody steep, hills. Of they go, on nights “checking unnoccs”, and the troops fan out to keep an eye out for the Sgt’s car. Time passes and about an hour later we get a sighting report – Sgt’s car parked at the top of the station car park in dark shadow, with the proverbial steamed up windows and bouncing up and down !! Just as the troops are mustering for the big finale the car begins to slowly roll down the hill – it picks up speed quickly and smashes into another car – doors open and trouser less Sgt and WPC with skirt up round middle leaping out – lots of bad language – apparently when he got to the short strokes he managed to lean on the hand brake and away we go ! Of course the senior PC is immediately on hand – The explanations get sillier by the minute – Of course it all comes out in the enquiry – Sgt gets posted out (sanctimonious bastard) WPC loses husband – he gets suspended from driving and his wife takes him for every penny he’s got (I think he’s still paying now !!)and that is one of the best illustrations of living in a glass house and throwing stones I know of
Evenin all
Mog

Plane Tails from the hills !

2004-11-24T13:04:00.000Z

There aren’t many “characters” left in the world are there. Certainly when I was serving her majesty in the outermost fringes of the empire ! There were still palpable characters about. In jolly British on yer arse (Belize to the educated) we had a system in which there was a “Garrison” – staffed by various Corps personnel and a “Company” which was an augmented Infantry Company. The Company changed every six months but the Garrison had individual 2- 3 year postings. As previously described it is a strange place lots of hot wet jungle, very few roads, rivers full of piranha, alligators and other weird beasties. Snakes and insects abound ! The Garrison supplied the Doctor – a fully paid up member of the Royal Army Medical Corps (RAMC) and a Captain to boot ! He was a real character. One of his ambitions was to be able to balance a pint pot on his tum whilst standing up so he was more than a little chubby. Another of his claims to fame was during the wet season he would lay on his bunk and imbibe vast quantities of alcohol – Not unusual in itself, as most of us tended to do this (moaning “the rain, the rain)
But as an officer and a gentleman, his personal weapon was a pistol – mostly kept loaded for snakes etc. He would lay there shooting mosquitoes off the ceiling, creating a shower head effect through the tin roof. He would wake up, his bunk awash and wonder how it all got there !
Best of all was his pet boa constrictor – This 9 ft long, bad tempered git of a snake lived in a large hutch outside the door to his bunk ! – You’ve guessed it, Doc would lock his door, throw the keys in with the snake and retire to the Mess, to endeavour by serious drinking to meet the pint pot ambition. Suitably refreshed – or even over refreshed he would stagger back to his bunk – crawl in to the cage and try and retrieve his keys. Most evenings he would manage to get the keys out without too much of a problem – But the best laid plans – It had to be me, first time as Guard Commander – one of the roving sentries reports in “shots fired” from the direction of the Officer’s bunks – Take several squaddies at the double and there it is a bloody great snake trying to strangle the shit out of the Doctor who is wrestling round with this thing, gun in hand shooting wildly in all directions (other than the snake) I seemed to recall that a constrictor needed to anchor its tail before it could squeeze the life out of you but this one had several coils round the Doc and he was turning a funny shade of puce ! In we go, every one grab a bit – It would have made a great film scene – I’ve never seen anything so strong as that flaming snake – we get the doc out from its coils and he then starts shouting “don’t hurt the snake “ I do not believe it (one foot in the grave !) we roll away and the snake is away on its coils into the yungle – Damned doctor was so upset he wouldn’t dress our wounds – who says constrictors don’t bite ! When we dis-mounted the guard the Orderly Officer takes me aside and says “I didn’t want to say much but you and your chaps look awfully scruffy this morning” – Needless to say he was “otherwise employed” , over at the Airport when all the fun was going on and the Doc was well liked by all so we didn’t like to tell him ! – The cage was left open and sure enough, the stupid creature came back in a couple of days when it was hungry and happily slithered ? back inside. More from the empire to come
Evening all
Mog

Tales from the Empire

2004-11-19T06:13:00.000Z

Back in the late 60’s when we still had the vestiges of a foreign policy and UK colonies etc, us scum of the earth were sent to soldier, “serve and protect” these little outposts of empire, where the sun never sets. So after an incredibly long air journey we landed at Belize International Airport! – the longest piece of tarmac in the entire colony ! and headed for the aptly named “Airport Camp”. There to spend a happy six months, bashing about in the Ulu, spending weeks on tropical Robinson Crusoe islands called Keys and generally doing hearts and minds projects and having a great time drinking the local firewater – called rum but bearing little resemblance to the stuff you buy in tescos. We used to go for a morning run and as we passed the local grog shops we would see the locals brewing the next nights lot in old bathtubs out the back – I knew there were rumours about them putting dead rats in to improve the taste but I don’t think a dead rat would want to be found dead ??? in some of the brews – send you blind – my word they used to give a free white stick with every case !
For most of us this was a first experience of the tropics and the variety of flora and fauna was amazing. I had a Mango tree on one side of the doorway to my bunk and a lime tree on the other. Pick the fruit and let it ripen on the window sill – cut a fresh lime in half and suck to cure the obligatory hangover from the local gut rot
It works – There are 150 different varieties of snake – 143 of which are poisonous including the two most deadly snakes in the world either of which will kill you pretty damned quick. One wit asked how we could identify which were the non-poisonous ones if we came across a snake ! – Answer a sweeping aggression policy – if it comes towards you – kill it !!! we’ll worry about identifying from its corpse. Also there were the insects – I have never seen such big bastards – even the midges were bumble bee sized and the spiders did not bear thinking about !! which brings me to the point of this tale. One afternoon four of us decided to take our launch out on to the river and do a bit of water skiing – bloody silly with all the alligators, water snakes etc etc but anyway we did ! To get to the river we had to go down a path through some fairly untamed yungle to the mooring on the river – about a half mile . We did our water sport and moored up. As we walked down the path back to camp we saw what we thought was a standard (about 6-8 inches across) tarantula pulling a very large (8 – 10 inches long) very iridescent green beetle along the path. As we approached we realised it was the other way round – the beetle was pushing a feebly struggling tarantula along. This thing then suddenly took off with a sound like a bloody helicopter and I swear it came towards us with evil intent
We took off running ! This thing chased us all of 400 yards down the path to camp – four grown men running away from a beetle – You bet your life !! I’m only glad it didn’t catch us. One of our number, Paddy by name went back down the path to see what had happened to the spider ! – it was still laying in the middle of the path twitching. He whipped back got a waste bin and captured it.
He took it to our Doctor (There is a wonderful story about him – later) who pickled it in formalhyde thingy and he kept it in a large jar marked “Paddy’s Pet” I’m still glad the beetle didn’t get us though
Swinging the lamp
Evening all
Mog

Wind-up (Two)

2004-11-17T16:32:00.000Z

This is the story of a another wind-up in the days when political correctness meant voting Conservative for Police men and women (no integration in those days)The Wimmins (long before Greenham Common) were a separate department and dealt with “Ladies matters” – lost kids, looking after grieving relatives, making tea and all the usual multi tasking (oops political correctness creeping in). We get a new Wopsie (slang for WPC) on shift. This one is an ex cadet – the very worst as they tend to know more than you, have had most of the wind ups perpetrated on them already and are street wise and hard to fool. However, this one was worst than most as she was on the Force Swimming team (it was mostly cadets in those days as they tended to be fitter than most smoking,drinking and non-exercising Constables) and was a champion in Life saving. She went on and on about all the competitions she had won. “Ah” thought one devious and wizened old Constable, “I know the perfect thing to wind her up, listen and I’ll tell you”.
And so, In High Wycombe, where this episode occurs, there is a long park on the A40 called the Rye – in this park is a boating lake, leading on to a river/stream also, spookily enough, called the Rye. So late one evening, a group of dark blue clad, furtive figures appear carrying a store dummy, “borrowed” from one of the chain stores. This dummy is clad in a boiler suit and tied to a fishing line = the rod being also secreted about the person of one of the officers (difficult to hide a 6ft fishing rod about one’s person – but that’s another story!). As one earwig said to the other “earwigo” (puns getting worse) – in to the Rye goes the “body” – out goes the fishing line and we creep round to the other side of the lake, paying out the line as we go. The Sergeant, being a central player in the wind up, has, naturally put the new Wopsie on foot patrol on the A40 near the Rye. Quick radio call for her assistance – body in the water feebly struggling and she is off like a blue clad avenger – It is a late summer evening and it is almost, but not quite dark and with some energetic tugging on the line, we managed to get the dummy out into the middle of the lake and splashing about. She appears on the scene – we are all hidden in the bushes on the other side, some 20 yards away. My word she’s keen – off with the sensible shoes, off with the skirt – my word she’s wearing stockings and suspenders ! and in to the slimy, duck shit covered lake like a long dog and swimming well! – Sure enough, we wind in, she swims further, and just before she catches up with the dummy at the bank we all stand up, and so does she, a vision in a wet white police shirt and stocks and shocks !
Slightly offset by pond weed and duck shit ! – but non the less a sight to behold – and guess what – some swine has “borrowed” the Polaroid camera from Custody and Snap Snap and the evidence is all there – For a small while there was a sharp intake of breath – but when it sunk in she realised she had been well and truly “had” she took it in good part – although for some time afterwards the polariod photos circulated in the men’s locker rooms. Strangely enough she didn’t enter the National Life Saving competitions that year !! and many a young policeman’s erotic fantasies were satisfied by the photos (I wonder where they ended up ??

Blast from the Past

2004-11-09T19:19:00.000Z

Pull up a sandbag and I'll swing the lamp a bit ! Whilst browsing through the morning blogs I found a comment on Scary's from Gordon? So, as you do,I went to his home page and started reading - came across reference to bottles of Southern Comfort on the desk and memories came back - of an earlier, simpler time, when I was a young(ish) squaddie in Belize (or British on your arse as it was known then) During the monsoon, or rainy season (rain it was like someone had turned on a fire hose!!!) you could not do a great deal out and about in the Yungle as everything squished - so we all sat about swigging bottles of the old Southern Comfort and moaning "the rain, the rain" in true Somerset Maughan fashion. I have never been able to drink the damn stuff since !!
In hindsight I'm amazed that my liver stood for it (do livers stand ?)
Of course as soon as the rain slowed down to "standard Irish" we were out and about again and sweating out the accumulation of several months of spirits by running !!! round the airfield - God we were young and fit
enough already
mornin all
mog

Mens Rea - The criminal mind - (Or perhaps mindless Criminal)

2004-11-08T22:54:00.000Z

To make a change from the idiots ringing in, today I thought I’d write about the idiots who are rung in about ! Here are a selection of some of the really stupid crimes and criminals
How about the burglar who tried to jemmy a door open, failed so he smashed a window, cut himself climbing through leaving a trail of blood behind him up the stairway, stole a laptop computer, then still bleeding, ran out straight into the arms of a response unit as he had set the alarm off when trying to jemmy the door !
Or the bloke that broke into his neighbour’s hours, stole their carpets and re-laid it in his own lounge – he then left the trimmings out for the dustmen ! and wondered why the neighbour called the police !
Perhaps the man arrested for harassment who had been writing letters to his ex-partner and signing them with his own name ! he wondered why he had been arrested as he didn’t think we had any evidence it was him – ho hum
Best one recently – a man bought a fancy new computer with a stolen credit card – then took out an extended warranty including home service – in his own name
I’ll get me coat
Evenin all
Mog

Are You really ringing 999 for this ?

2004-11-03T21:29:00.000Z

A few more dips into the wierd world of the 999 Caller
Caller on Christmas morning
"Can you tell me if John Lewis's sale starts on Boxing day or is it the day after ?" - Operator
"Why did you ring 999 for this ?" - Caller
"Well there's no one else open who I can ask is there ?"
Is there some sort of logic in this ?
"My next door neighbour walks his dog on the grass by my house every day to do its business - he cleans up the poo but does nothing about it peeing can yhou send an officer to tell him to clean it up "
For a bit of a reverse - we get a genuine call at 2 oclock in the morning stating that there is a naked man running along the IDR in Reading (Inner Distribution Road for those unfamiliar with the town)
Radio operator puts out "Observations" and sure enough one young earnest probationer comes back up on the radio "Any description please"
I ask you ! how many naked men would be likely to be running down the IDR at 0200 on a chilly morning
Radio operator was quick though "If there's more than one we'll all come and have a look" smart girl that operator
Ah well - if it wasn't for these little gems occasionally we'd have a boring life
Evenin all
mog

2004-11-03T01:18:00.000Z

Return of the Mog

2004-11-02T00:20:00.000Z

Well, here we are back fresh from leave amongst the Dales - I was suprised and gratified to find help from several bloggers including my hero - Le Duc himself in relation to my missing archives ! - all I've got to do is work out how to do it and I hope all is not lost ! - I have never been so bloody wet as last week - It was a biblical experience I kept waiting to hear the voice "How well can you tread water" Two very large, wet and muddy dogs do not improve the inside of a caravan and my cream leather seats in the new car have had a real christening - However we had a good 10 days off and found a really ace Farmer's market(once a month in Bakewell) and a really triffic pub - blatant plug for the Miners Arms at Garsington - steak night on Wednesdays and I got a 16oz T bone for £7.50 with all trimmings - felt like I had swallowed a warthog ! went to sleep for two days - great stuff - will get back to proper blogging back on nights tomorrow
more stupid 999 calls and strange and wonderful happenings in the murky world of policing
evening all
mog

Found some !

2004-10-19T07:24:00.000+01:00

Found some of my recent posts in the "view my profile" - so all is not completely lost - I hate these things - I really am computer illiterate - I just types in where it says type and hope !!
cheers
mog

Thoughts of Mortality

2004-10-19T06:42:00.000+01:00

My mother died in May this year. Tomorrow would have been her birthday - will be going down to put some flowers on the marker in Basingstoke Cemetary.She did not go easily - she fought the cancer to the end - but its not the morbid thoughts of mortality that make me smile and think of her. It started to go wrong right from the start - She decided to be cremated - So when my sister tried to book the Crem she was told that "Basingstoke Crem" has burnt down !! and only taking a very few services a week so it would have to be Aldershot on Wednesday or wait for over a month. She who must be obeyed and I were down in Portsmouth in our caravan. So we started up to Aldershot early in the morning and in keeping with the theme we broke down badly (unfixeable) on the Exeter bypass and due to the vagaries of the "fourth emergency service" managed to miss my own mother's funeral !! After the enevitable backlash from the family we managed to sort out the time/date for her interrment - Another problem we forgot that Basingstoke District Council require £382.00 for a square foot of earth and a 12 x 12 granite marker with small column and angel £1865.00 . I could feel the cold wind on the back of my neck - Mother was always the life and soul of the party - you know the embarrassing jolly lady with the big laugh and the bright red "granny knickers" waving in the air - she loved life and drink and food and people. So there we were at the appointed hour waiting at Basingstoke Cemetary under a state of armed truce - a lot of the relatives still had not (and probably never will forgive me for missing the funeral) Up draws the undertaker's car. He jumps out, goes round to the back and just within my hearing as I approached to take the box said "Oh f*****k, I've left her behind !!"At this point I most definitely heard the spectral laughter and I knew she was getting me back for missing her funeral by being late for her own interrment ! My sister (who had just about forgiven me) took one look at me and could not believe I was laughing - I explained and god bless her she realised what was going on and we both knew then that mum had forgiven me - It took the stupid git over an hour to get mum's box and get the thing underway but it felt 100% better than the dreadfull days of guilt I suffered after missing her funeral - Im glad I've got that off my chest so I can now go tomorrow and put flowers on her marker with a smile and remember her for the wicked, laughing, drinking, little old man chasing person she wasfeeling bettermog
# posted by Mystic mog

Wot have I done !

2004-10-19T06:41:00.000+01:00

I managed to publish four copies of today's entry and when I tried to edit it - it has trashed my entire blog
Lost and gone and never called me mother !!
will try and get my archived blogs back but Gawd knows wot I have done to them
anguished
mog