Welcome to the new Mil-lennium. By now all the hangovers have healed, most of the resolutions have been bro-ken and we can all look forward to a lovely sum-mer. I can think of no better way of starting off the Mil-lennium than print in its entirety a rather whimsical soliloquy on life when you are getting old like what we are.

Born before 1940 Blues

We were born before tele-vision, before penicillin, polio shots, fast food, Xerox, contact lenses, vid-eos, Frisbees, freebies and the Pill. We lived before radar, credit cards, split atoms, laser beams and ballpoint pens; before dishwashers, tumble dryers, electric blankets, air conditioners, drip dry clothes and before men walked on the moon. We got married, then lived together - how quaint. We

thought fast food was what you ate in Lent. A Big Mac was an oversized raincoat and crumpet you ate for tea. We existed before House Husbands, computer dat-ing, dual careers; when a meaningful relationship meant getting along with your cousins and sheltered accommodation was a bus stop. We were before day care centres, group homes and disposable nappies. We had never heard of FM Ra-dio, tape decks, electric typewriters, artificial hearts, word processors, yoghurt and men wearing earrings. For us time sharing meant togetherness, a chip was a piece of wood or a fried potato. Hardware meant nuts and bolts and soft-ware wasn’t a word. Before 1940 ‘Made in Ja-pan’ meant junk. The term ‘making out’ referred to how well we were doing at exams; a stud was some-thing that fastened a collar to your shirt and ‘going all

the way’ meant staying on a double decker bus until it reached the depot. Pizzas, McDonalds and in-stant coffee were unheard of. ‘Coming Out’ was leaving somewhere you had gone in and debutante was the new inside right signed from Wolves. In our day cigarette smok-ing was fashionable; grass was mown; coke was kept in a coalhouse; a joint was a piece of meat we had on Sundays and pot was something in which it was cooked. Rock music was a grand-mother’s lullaby; El Do-rado was ice cream; a gay person was the life and soul of the party. There were three grades of toilet paper, Radio Times, Daily Herald and Hull Daily Mail, four if you counted that rescued from the chip wrappers. People had toilets outside and ate their food inside! Transportable baths could be used in any room in the house.

H.C.P.O.C.A. Newsletter

2000

You found porn in a p a w n s h o p ; a handkerchief was a very stiff coat sleeve. Footwear was leather, iron and wood. A disc jockey was a National Hunt rider with a bad back. The re-cycling unit was NORRIS the rag and bone man. An alarm was known as a knocker up. The NHS was known as a Doctors Bill of 6d per week. Debt and il-legitimacy were secrets, McDonald only had a farm and central heating was an oven plate or a brick wrapped in a blanket. A duvet was your dad’s old army greatcoat. A kitchen unit was a cup-board or a pantry and the Top Ten were the Ten Commandments. You have to admit we were a hardy bunch when you think of all the ways in which the world has changed and the adjust-ments we have had to make. No wonder we were so confused most of the time, but we survived. Hallelujah. Brilliant. I can hear Noel COWARD or FLANDERS & SWAN singing that.

Y O U R S P O R T S CLUB? (for now) Do you remember the day you joined the Hull City Police?

Odds are that you remem-ber the tailor, the recruit-ing sergeant and the police surgeon. Think a bit deeper and you will also remember a dis-cussion with someone re-garding deductions from pay. Remember how your £6 per week suddenly be-came about £3? You will think about PMAS, chari-ties etc. You will think that you had so little money it was very hard seeing it disappear before you laid hands on it. Then perhaps you will re-member someone called Bob TIFFIN, or Alan DALE or Jack DICKIN-SON who told you about the proud history of the Hull City Police Sports Club. All about how In-glemire was purchased from the council in 1933 and the traditional reasons for supporting the history of the force. You may have considered at that time that you had never kicked a ball straight in your life, you didn’t play rugby or cricket, and snooker was beyond you. Yet there you were being asked to cough up your pennies before the kids had shoes on their feet. But you did. You were made to feel that you belonged. You may even have believed that

years ahead, when you were retired, you would be an associate member and, for free then, have the odd game of bowls or golf with your ex colleagues. In other words a life-time of commitment. You probably know that in your day, in fact most likely until well towards the end of Hull City, mem-bership was very nearly 100%. We should not be sur-prised that things like tra-dition; a sense of belong-ing and commitment to a fellowship ideal has no part in today’s Humberside Police, despite the efforts of a few dedicated people. As a consequence, mem-bership is around the 50% mark and the club is strug-gling badly. If you have been to a party at In-glemire recently this will surprise you, as the rule says that anyone who de-clines to contribute to the club is barred from its fa-cilities. How do you feel about those people? The matter has come to the fore because HQ Sports Club has folded due to lack of funds. Those of you who are affiliated to the club should by now have received a letter in-forming you of what op-tions are available to you.

If you have not would you please contact Reg PATCHETT at Bran-sholme Police Station on 01482 597045. Do not think that this is the last of the bad news. Thanks to the non-contributors the future of Inglemire is again uncer-tain. Of course Inglemire has long been the target of certain sections of the club, the motives of which have to be questionable. I have mentioned a few dedicated people who have bravely tried to fend off the tide of apathy and in some cases ill will. One such man is David (Chick) HUNTER, the last ever chairman of the HQ Sports Club, who is flying the flag until the ship sinks and from whom I received a letter recently. There is nothing remark-able about that because he is a friend of mine. What is remarkable is that, apart from some communica-tions about golf, which were personally sought, this is the first time in over five years anyone from the sports club has ever made contact with me. Are the interests of Associate Members being protected? Should they be represented on the sports club commit-tee?

Case rests.

CORPORATION FIELD

Thanks to everyone who wrote in, or otherwise communicated his or her memories of this famous landmark of old Hull. You remember .....that huge patch of concrete and tarmac stuck in the city centre, bordered by back to back houses and a row of sheds, which looked as though they had been plucked from the fish dock. What was the original purpose of these sheds? Does anyone know? Of course most coppers only visited the site once a year, if they were unlucky enough to qualify for ‘The Inspection’ and then with a great deal of trepidation, as d i d t h e f o l l o w i n g correspondent.

A BOOK BY ITS

COVER As a young naive copper I never wanted anything out of the force but to be a Traffic officer. It had, of course, dawned on me that Hull only had about six traffic cars and I was a bit depressed to think that I had set my sights too high.

Nevertheless I was still enthralled by the occasional appearance of a gleaming black limousine as I trudged my beat. Sometimes I even got a glimpse of one of the gods that piloted them. Months dragged by, but the closest I ever got to a Traffic car, was looking at the underneath side one night when I was rolling about trying to arrest a reluctant foreign seaman in Drypool, with the added distraction of a rather heavy female jumping on my back. Then one day I was told that I would be taking part in something called ‘THE INSPECTION’. A parade someone said. “From Queens Gardens to Corporation Field” “To where” “Corporation Field. Near Park Street.” Park Street....... I had a rough idea where that was. “A field?” “Well.... It’s not really a field... it’s a.... bit of spare land.... a parade ground... sort of.” “Oh” Apparently when we got there some sort of big noise

would walk up and down the ranks like they used to at Training School, squinting at buttons and things, making secretive little asides to their aides de camps and pointing at epaulettes and other appendages. Something different anyway. We started practising in the narrow yard at the back of Queens Gardens guided by the inimitable Walter JACKSON. I was a bit worried that all the noise would wake up the inhabitants of the first floor. Certainly we saw a few windows hurriedly close when we started up. Then we progressed to the Corporation Field, having stopped all the traffic to march there. What I had not realised was that whilst we all took up one side of the parade ground, the other side was taken up by a beautiful row of highly polished Traffic cars. Their immaculate drivers stood rigidly to attention next to their machines, wearing snow-white gloves. The drama of the moment was enhanced by the somewhat theatrical gesture of leaving the car doors open, all at exactly the same angle. Whilst I had matured a little by then and was a tad more cynical about most things, I was still mesmerised by this fantastic vision and I spent

many happy hours of practice dreaming of driving the beasts. On the day, as luck would have it, Royalty did not deign to address me, I did reasonably well at stopping when I was shouted at, did not get out of step and managed not to laugh when a police dog peed on his handlers shoes. Well, not too obviously. It was all over and we stood at ease waiting for the order to march off. Then just when we appeared to be heading that way our unit was singled out to remain on the parade ground. A bit odd I thought. We watched everybody shuffle off home leaving only us, a sergeant and....... three pristine looking police cars. My curiosity turned to dismay when the sergeant, with a deadpan expression, explained that the three cars were all incapable of being driven and our unit had been volunteered to manhandle them into positions from where they could be towed away like useless bits of metal. My m i s e r y a n d t o t a l d i s i l lu s ionment was complete when a crowd of snotty nosed kids started to jeer at us whilst we were carrying the task out. I later joined the Plainclothes Section.

THE WAR YEARS Much has been said in this Newsletter about the abun-dant talent that lives in ex members of the Hull City Police. However, even we were surprised at the qual-ity of the next item which is published exactly how it was written by ex P.C. 33 John ANDERSON. Mr. ANDERSON, who has, in the past, challenged former Deputy Chief Con-stable Tony CLARKE for perceived errors in his book ‘The Policemen of Hull’, still lives locally. It is a unique account of day-to-day life in the Hull City Police during the darkest of the darkest hours in Hull’s history. Mr. ANDERSON who is 87 years old has remark-able recall and elegant ex-pression. His description of events is almost spooky in it’s precision.

HULL AT WAR At the age of 21 years I joined the Hull City Police on 3rd April 1933 and was appointed to Central Divi-sion at Headquarters in Al-fred Gelder Street.. A few months later Ad-olph HITLER became Chancellor of Germany and was soon making threats to his neighbours in

Austria, Czechoslovakia and Poland. Winston CHURCHILL, who was then a member of the op-position in Parliament, be-gan advising the govern-ment that HITLER meant to go to war and recom-mended that preparation be made to re-arm. Mr. CHURCHILL was classed as a warmonger but he knew what he was talking about, having served in the Boer War and the First World War. In 1935 the government decided to act on Mr. CHURCHILL’s advice and I remember one of our inspectors, Albert BAR-NES, was sent to London (The Home Office) to learn how to instruct the whole of our force in Air Raid Precautions (ARP). In the following year, 1936, preparations were made for the whole of the force to receive instruction in ARP and this included what action had to be taken in the event of an at-tack by poison gas, as it was then known that HIT-LER was preparing such weapons. This would in-volve supplying all mem-bers with gas proof cloth-ing, rubber footwear, steel helmets and service respi-rators. I received my instructions at the Fire Brigade Head-quarters in Grimston Street in December 1936 as I re-

member during one lecture a pause was made to allow us all to go into an adjoin-ing room to listen to the wireless and hear that King Edward VIII had de-cided to abdicate the throne. This was nearly three years before war with Germany was de-clared on 3rd September 1939. Throughout the years 1937 and 1938 it was realised that HITLER intended to attack this country and preparations were made to evacuate all children from the main areas of popula-tion. Large public air raid shelters were constructed and all dwelling houses were provided with their own shelter provided the householder did not earn more than £5 per week. I was in this category but my neighbour was not but his family was able to use mine, as I was rarely able to use it. It was realised that all pub-lic buildings of national importance would have to be protected by the police and it was decided to es-tablish a Police War Re-serve, which would be composed of men of 35 years and over who opted for that service rather than military duties. About 200 of these men were enlisted and served throughout the war. One night in October 1938

I was on duty in Alfred Gelder Street when bus loads of troops passed through, presumably on their way to the coast, and it was assumed that there was a threat of invasion. However nothing further happened and some weeks later bus loads of troops passed through the City Centre in a westerly direc-tion, presumably the threat of invasion having passed. When 1939 arrived it was assumed that war with Germany was inevitable and all possible prepara-tions were put in hand. When war was declared by Prime Minister Neville CHAMBERLAIN on 3rd September at 11a.m. on a Sunday, the whole of the force were ordered to work 12 hour shifts ... 6a.m. - 6p.m. or 6p.m. - 6a.m. and leave was cancelled. There was a total black out of lighting. Air Raid War-dens’ Posts were manned, as were vulnerable prem-ises by firewatchers. All vulnerable points such as ARP HQ in Ferensway and Police HQ in Alfred Gelder Street were manned by a regular PC who was armed with a revolver, which was carried in a hol-ster attached to a belt at his waist. Hull’s first air raid alert was sounded at 3.20 a.m. on 4th September but no raid took place. Many

such alerts were made and the ‘All Clear’ did not sound for many hours. We could only assume that somebody else was getting it. After some weeks on twelve-hour shifts it was found that this was not necessary and we returned to eight hours and leave was restored. However we still put in long hours. The instruction was that if an air raid alert was sounded in the four hour period before you were due to parade you had to turn out to HQ. If the ‘All Clear’ sounded before you reached HQ you had to ring in to HQ and return home, but you still had to turn out for your full shift. Those on night duty suf-fered this the worst but we all had to take our turn. On 1st July 1940 I was on the 2 -10 shift at HQ in Al-fred Gelder Street guard-ing the entrance with my pistol in its holster on my belt round my waist. About 4.15 p.m. the Assis-tant Chief Constable Mr. James SMITH joined me and said that there was an alert on but the sirens had not sounded. We went into Alfred Gelder Street and could hear the sound of a plane and then saw it in the sky passing over the Marfleet area. Shortly afterwards

we heard a number of ex-plosions and later learned that one of the oil storage tanks had been hit and the plane had been shot down. This was Hull’s first day-light raid. A number of minor raids were made in August and November 1940. The first serious air raid attacks on Hull began on 13th March 1941. There was much damage and heavy casualties with much loss of life. On 31st March a number of 2000lbs parachute bombs were dropped and caused considerable damage to the Hull Royal Infirmary in Prospect Street. The Air Raid Control Centre in Ferensway was shattered and the officer in charge Dr. David DIAMOND was killed. P.C. 127 Robert GARTON was also killed. He had been on 2 - 10 shift and had just been relieved by P.C. 179 Vernon KEY-LOCK and was about to go home. No trace of P.C. GARTON’s body was ever found. P.C. KEYLOCK was seriously injured. I had performed the same duty that P.C. GARTON had done only 7 days pre-viously. The most serious attacks on Hull were made on two consecutive nights namely 7/8th and 8/9th May when

the City Centre was devas-tated and there was much loss of life. P.C. 81 NEEDLEY was killed on Anlaby Road near Anne Street. In July, 1941, the Assistant Chief Constable Mr. James SMITH was killed. He was being driven by P.C. 372 Bernard CRAVEN in a police car along James Reckitt Avenue at night in response to an air raid alert when a small bomb fell on the pavement a short dis-tance away. A piece of shrapnel pierced the win-dow of the car and severed an artery in his neck. He was dead on arrival at the Hull Royal Infirmary. On 18th July heavy attacks were made on the East Hull area. Reckitts, East Hull Gas Company and Spillers were badly dam-aged. On 19th May 1942 a heavy raid took place on West Hull and many people were killed and injured. On 23 December 1944 I was on duty in the City Centre when the sirens sounded but there were no planes around and no Ack Ack fire. The cloud was low and I heard what by now was the familiar sound of a V1 flying bomb approaching from over the Humber. I then made out the shape

of the V1 with flames coming from the rear. It travelled towards the West of the city and disappeared out of sight and earshot. No guns were fired and no searchlights used. On reporting for duty the following day, 24th De-cember 1944, I learned that the missiles had passed right over the city and landed in the East Rid-ing without causing injury or damage. On 8th May 1945 Victory in Europe was celebrated. We cannot thank Mr. ANDERSON enough for this article. This really is authentic war time experi-ence and it really brings it home just how long prior to September, 1939, the British Government pre-pared for war with Ger-many.

THE INTERNATIONAL

POLICE ASSOCIATION

Some members will recall quite a lot of support for what was known as the IPA during the sixties and seventies. A number of exchange vis-its were arranged with overseas police forces and a degree of social contact was achieved. Thanks to

the efforts of Chief Super-i n t e n d e n t D a v i d HUNTER, Humberside Police, we have unearthed some memorabilia of the Hull City Branch of the IPA. This includes details of a trip to Germany in 1965 and some personal me-mentoes of the late Inspec-tor Harry DIXON who was secretary of the asso-ciation at the time. If any-one out there still has con-nections with the IPA, they are welcome to collect the material from the office. CULTURE CORNER

(Part II) As promised we twisted Bob CARMICHAEL’s arm until he agreed to give us a few lines on the world of art. The closest most of us come to the subject is watching Lovejoy or An-tiques Road Show. Well when you have heard this lovely story about a lovely picture you may think that truth is stranger than fiction. RESCUED FOR THE CITY OF ITS BIRTH My wife Rose and I have been collecting and study-ing art for about ten years and many interesting paintings have come our way.

Whilst we cannot claim to have discovered any major masterpieces, the picture on the next page, which we located at an auction in Cornwall during 1995, was quite exciting and proved to be a very good find. Sadly though it also served to illustrate once again that the proud city of Kingston upon Hull is not as well known as it ought to be. This is, of course, a view of the Dock Offices and Princes Dock in oil paint. It is dated 1903 and was executed by an artist from Edinburgh, named Robert SANDERSON, who flour-ished between 1858 and 1908, and whose work, when it occasionally ap-pears on the auction mar-ket, attracts very good prices. However, when we made a discreet enquiry of the auctioneer in Cornwall about this picture our hopes soared somewhat when we were told that, although the painting was in tip top condition, no-one was able to identify the view shown. Therefore, he couldn’t see it making a great deal of money. He went on to say a local art dealer had thought the scene might be somewhere near to Nelsons Column and yet another had

guessed at ‘somewhere near to St.Pauls’ being the venue, but when this was checked out they realised the latter had only one dome, and there are no docks near Trafalgar Square.

So their ignorance proved to be bliss as far as we were concerned and the painting came home to the city where it now occupies ride of place in a distin-guished private collection of art. I still see and enjoy this painting quite often. It is very atmospheric with much fine detail of shi-priggers working on ves-sels in the dock and horse-drawn carriages and pedes-trians crossing Monument Bridge. When seeing it afresh I wonder about the constables manning the streets of the city in those far off days. I bet they didn’t have any worries about low detec-tion rates, nor did we I seem to recall.

There will be more from Bob in the next issue. It will suit those of you who have an interest in police related art.

.................. MORE CULTURE

On the subject of former Detective Superintendents and culture, many of you will be aware of, and even read, the book ‘HULL, HELL & FIRE’ written by Ron SAGAR and pub-lished in December 1999. The story of Bruce George Peter LEE @ DINSDALE is of course of great inter-est to many people per se, but some of our members have commented on how much the story brings back sharp memories of times gone by, particularly of life in the mean streets of Selby Street, Boulevard and Division Road and the surrounding area. For those of you who have a taste for nostalgia, you may be interested to know that Ron’s second book, entitled ‘TALES OF A HULL CITY POLICE RE-CRUIT’ will be published in the summer of 2000. I am told that it is very funny. Oh dear! WHERE ARE THEY

NOW? A bit of literary licence brings our chosen subject under this heading. Certainly the officer

concerned was once a Hull City police officer but sadly he died recently. George MALTBY, a native of Hessle Road and formerly an Inspector in Hull, made quite a name for himself in Canada following his emigration in 1960. George joined Hull City in 1935 before World War II intervened. He saw active service as a fighter pilot in the Royal Air Force, latterly becoming a flying instructor for the Canadian forces. He returned to the city of his birth after the war, serving in all three divisions. George was accomplished in a number of sports, particularly cricket. He then joined the service in Canada, rising to Police Chief for the city of St. JAMES. He retired from office in 1970 to become the first ever Ombudsman for the Province of Manitoba. George carried out these duties until 1982, when at the age of 67, he was appointed a member of the Complaints Committee of Physicians and Surgeons and, even later, Chairman of the Manitoba Press Council. Some career! On his death this year at the age of 84, significant tributes were paid to his major contribution to the

Canadian community in Manitoba. If anyone is interested, we are in possession of the official obituaries published in the Winnipeg Sun and the Winnipeg Free Press. You may not be aware of this fact, but Canada is, or was, quite a home from home for a number of our ex colleagues. It was this that led to Stan and Sheila FISHER spending a holiday there and bringing about a re-union of ex Hull City Officers at the Winnipeg Police Club in 1979.

Back row Left to right Ex PC 34 SMALLEY, a civilian clerk Winnipeg Central Ex PC 128 JOHNSTON, Superintendent, Fort Garry Police Station, Winnipeg Stan FISHER Ex PC 191 Les HORNE, Patrol Sergeant, Winnipeg Central Ex PC 90 Alan (Rocky) WALL, Stores Sergeant, Winnipeg Central

Front Row Left to right Mary JOHNSTON, Sheila FISHER, Billie DAVILL

30 YEARS AGO CATEGORICAL REJECTION The House of Commons rejects a call for the murderers of Police Officers to be imprisoned for at least 30 years. APARTHEID LEGACY South Africa is banned from the Davis Cup, ex pe l l ed f rom t he International Olympic Committee and the English cricket tour of that Continent is cancelled. RIGHT TRIUMPHS The Conservative Party are returned to power with a majority of 80 seats in the General Election. JULES RIMET Brazil wins the World Soccer Cup. DRUGS HORROR Damages are awarded to 28 deformed children and their parents as a result of the thalidomide scandal. NASSER REIGN ENDS Death of President NAS-SER of Egypt. He is suc-ceeded by Anwar SADAT.

APPEAL One of our members, Robin HUDSON, served in Central Division as a uniformed constable in the mid 1960’s. He is doing some research into that period of the Hull City Police and is keen to consult a divisional beat book of Central covering that particular era. If anyone can help would they please contact Steve at the office. Telephone 01482 653480. Go on, get up in that loft, you’ll be surprised what you will find!

NEWS OF HULL CITY OFFICERS

PROMOTIONS

Gordon CLARK to DCC.

RETIREMENTS Eddy CARLILL Andy ABLETT Ken MAY Steve PIPER Pete BEAL Les MILLAR Phil ALDERMAN Geoff WALKER Mick FIELDHOUSE (apologies to anyone we have missed)

OBITUARIES We regret to announce the deaths of the following

former colleagues in the Hull City Police. We ex-tend our deepest sympa-thies to the relatives. Dennis DOWNS George MALTBY Frank HORNSEY Eric PICK Jack NICHOLSON Brian HARRISON George KITCHING Alfred KNAGGS Bill PYBUS George DANIELS Tommy SKELTON Tom CAMMISH

ICON OF HULL CITY POLICE

Few would argue that James COCKSWORTH had considerable influence on the formation of the Hull City Police as we all remember it. Our correspondent sends us the photograph overleaf which was taken at the Guildhall circa 1965 on the occasion of the presen-tation of Mr. COCK-SWORTH’s Queens Po-lice Medal. It gives us the opportunity to remind you that he served the City for almost 45 years as a police offi-cer, joining in 1932. He served at both Eastern and Western Divisions in uni-form and the CID before becoming Detective Su-perintendent in 1952.

In 1967 he was appointed Assistant Chief Constable, later to become Deputy Chief in Humberside until his retirement in 1976. He died two years later. You should have some in-teresting moments trying to pick out members of the CID in the photograph. ....... AND ANOTHER Jack NICHOLSON died on 19 October 1999 at a nursing home in Hessle. It is perhaps appropriate to record that on the subject of Icons here is another former officer who must rank fairly high. Fittingly he is featured in Geoff’s contribution this year.

OGGY’S SLOT

TIMES PAST Memories of colleagues

In the last issue I wrote in serious terms about the further re-structuring of Humberside Police and not

for the first time over the last 38 years received mild rebuke from the Editor so for this publication I will stay in safe territory. By the very nature of po-licing our memories re-main sharp of former col-leagues, incidents, mis-haps, tragedies and that distinct humour and com-radeship that makes the police service so special, even today. As we progressed through our careers many different officers influenced our op-erational style, actions and development. The memo-ries remain sharper from the earlier periods often refreshed by the passing of former colleagues. The list of obituaries since the last issue is long and sadly that is the nature of the Hull City Police Old Comrades Association. All those former members of the force will be remem-bered by many for a vari-

ety of reasons, some per-sonal to the reader. I have good reason to remember two who influenced my early career as a young de-tective. Former Detective Chief Super in tendent Jack Nicholson died shortly be-fore the last annual dinner only a year after his wife passed away. All of us have fond memories of him but to most of us younger retired officers he was always a senior offi-cer. He first joined Hull City Police on September 15 1936 but left at the out-break of war to serve in the Royal Navy protecting shipping in the North Sea. Following very active ser-vice where he was men-tioned in despatches and awarded the Distinguished Service Medal he re-joined the force in 1946. He was a career detective but was serving as Super-intendent Central Division when I first encountered him in the early 1960’s. I was a constable in Western Division and had been subject to a complaint fol-lowing an arrest. It fell to Jack Nicholson to ‘advise me!’ following a short in-vestigation. Management gurus write books these days about management and leader-ship and one such book is

Hull City Police CID (circa 1965)

called the ‘one minute manager’. It advises poten-tial leaders to be brief in ‘advice’ when things go wrong but also brief and effective with praise when good work is acknowl-edged. Jack never read the book but he practised it. His ‘advice’ sessions were the shortest and most abrupt on record but they were effective. They did not even last a minute but immediately afterwards they were forgotten as far as he was concerned. I ex-perienced them many times up to his retirement in 1973. He also however acknowledged just as ef-fectively good casework and was quick to com-mend young officers tak-ing care not to overdo it. He spoke with authority and knowledge and puts many of the management clones of today into the shade. Another death reported more recently was that of Tom Cammish former De-tective Chief Inspector at Central. Tom joined the force on September 25 1939 also serving mainly as a detective. He was a quiet but effective officer very keen on attention to detail. As a young detective pre-senting a ‘brief’ for court with a charge sheet to sign Tom very quickly spotted any potential gap in the evidence that could be

seized upon by a defend-ing solicitor. He also had some annoy-ing habits linked to his passion for DIY and join-ery. Half way through checking a complicated fraud brief with which I was justly proud he sat back and lit his pipe. I waited anxiously for the words of wisdom and then they came, “Where can I get some 2 by 2 wood this afternoon to complete my table tonight”. He often lost himself with his hob-bies but not at the expense of police work. How many can re-call the last big ‘safe blowing job’ in the city, which Tom in-vestigated. Needlers, 1967. The offenders were Arthur Gawthorpe and a West Riding Gelignite specialist Zephania Boswell. Can any readers remember the names of the other villains. Both Jack and Tom influ-enced my early career and indirectly as I progressed in service those of many other younger officers. Can that process continue? As I wrote this article I re-membered a management parable. ‘A turkey was chatting with a bull. “I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree”, sighed the turkey, “but I haven’t got the energy”.

“Well, why don’t you nib-ble some of my drop-pings?” replied the bull. “They’re packed with nu-trients.” The turkey pecked at a lump of dung and found that it actually gave him enough strength to reach the first branch of the tree. The next day after eating some more it reached the second branch. Finally af-ter a fortnight, there it was proudly perched at the top of the tree. Soon it was spotted by the farmer who shot it down. The moral being ‘ bullshit might get you to the top, but it won't keep you there.’ That never applied to these former senior officers but the theme may be familiar to our readers. Geoff Ogden

THE RUGBY SECTION

Well, ................. would you believe it? There was someone out there who actually remem-bers the Hull City Police Rugby Section. Not only remembers but played an integral part in its forma-tion...............

Over to you Mr. Frank STOREY. FROM LITTLE ACORNS

When I joined the Hull City Police in 1947, there was no rugby section, though there was some gossip about Taffy REES, Harry ATKINSON and Jock NAPIER playing be-fore the war. Whether that was for a police team or not isn’t clear. In addition a number of us were play-ing for various teams in the area. In 1949, on nights, in the early hours of the morning, a number of us at Western Division used to throw a helmet about at the back of Madeley Street Box. Sometime later I was dis-cussing rugby in West Park Box with Ken JOHNSTON, Gordon SCRIMEGOUR and Gordon SOUTHARD. We talked about forming a rugby section and called a meeting of interested par-ties. The rugby section was born the same year. The first secretary was Jack McLEAN, Ken JOHNSTON the first cap-tain and I was the vice-captain. As events turned out I was captain more of-ten than Ken, due to him being sent off with mo-notonous regularity. Our first chairman was George MALTBY and a great deal is owed to him for his ef-

forts on behalf of the team. The President was Alec GREEN, a local fish mer-chant, who was also presi-dent of the cricket section for a time. I believe Mr. GREEN bought the rugby section its first set of kit. The first match took place in September 1949 against my old side, Boulevard Juniors on the famous Boulevard pitch. We were absolutely hammered 30 odd points to two. The team for that match was from; JOHNSTON, STO-R E Y , S O U T H A R D , SCRIMGEOUR, Andy GREEN, Bob and Bill TOMLINSON, Peter YOUNG, Harry SMITH, B A S K I L L , D e n n i s SMITH, Dennis WAT-S O N , D E N S L E Y , POUND, McRAE, Mac-LEAN. It was noted that some people talked a bet-ter game than they played. The first season we joined the Hull Senior League and won very few matches, but the next year we entered the Works Sports League, which was more to our standard. We had of course improved a little as well, mainly by fil-tering the willing but less able. We also guested our scrum-halves which made a vast difference to our back play. In the ensuing seasons we won the Works Sports Sevens twice and

the League in 1959. A very notable, or should it be infamous, event lives in the memory. We played the Electricity Team in the Cup Final at Inglemire Lane and it turned into a blood bath. Indeed blows continued to be exchanged in the club-house after the match. Sydney LAWRENCE was not best pleased and wanted to take out a prose-cution against Joe WAT-SON, one of the opposing players. As I was one of those on the receiving end I was not prepared to give evidence against him see-ing he was only getting his own back for what hap-pened on the pitch. Getting dragged into the war between Union and League was inevitable. A number of our team was selected for the No.2 Dis-trict Police Rugby Union XV. I believe I played about five or six times. The whole thing came to an end the day before we were due to play a district fixture at Otley. The Rugby Union found out and declared that anyone who played either with us or against us would be banned from Union for life. We were also obliged to cancel our bian-nual fixture against Leeds City Police. Eventually, as we got older, the Rugby League team was allowed to sub-

side and after a year we applied for membership of the Rugby Union. A lot of back door politics took place before the writ-ten application was made and we were welcomed with open arms. We had to make a declaration that none us had any connec-tion with Rugby League. Notable individual hon-ours were achieved over the years in one or other of the two codes:- League Geoff TULLOCK Hull KR, Yorkshire & England. Ken HARBOUR Hull KR Barry CROFT Hull KR Terry WATSON Hull KR Gordon HARRISON Hull RLFC (Played in Cup Final at Wembley) Union Ian TODD British Police Eric SCAIFE British Police The Hull City Police Rugby Union side won the District Sevens a couple of times and the Everthorpe Sevens once. This latter

competition included teams from Hull & ER and Hessle. A number of indi-viduals won representative honours for No. 2 District. In addition to those named I remember the following colleagues from the teams over the years:- Ian WILSON DERRETT Dave BARTLETT Geoff BARTLETT FIRTH LILLEY PEGG JEFFERSON MATTHEWSON OGRAM WHITWORTH HOPWOOD DAVIES Les WILSON NAYLOR Ron TAYLOR BESSANT COATES MUNRO LAMSWOOD STRODDER RUSHBY DIXON-HALL Ron MARSHALL BATES PADLEY SIBLEY STINSON WALKER LEATHLEY ROE WILKINSON GOULDEN COLLIN BAINES FRYER MELHUISH BOYES

HAZELL JARVIS LORD Ron BARRETT Bert STEPHENSON Dennis WOOD KETTLEWELL TATTERSALL SHAW Alan DENT Also guest players : Sid NICHOL WallyFORD. I am sure there are more but my association ended in March 1966 when I left Hull. In addition, being an ex rugby player my brain is getting a bit addled (to quote) In the best traditions of Hull City Police sport, in-ter divisional matches took place once a year, when Eastern and Western took on Central and HQ. Not an occasion for faint hearts and the blood flowed freely as old scores were settled. Some serious injuries en-sued. During one match the ambulance was called to Inglemire on seven separate occasions, includ-ing three broken legs. There was talk of the fix-ture being stopped. It was stopped but I do not re-member why. I know I played in all the matches and I still bear the scars. The last one I seem to re-member was a seven a side put on as a bit of fun at a

children's’ sports’ day at Inglemire. As a final thought, bearing in mind the rude remarks of our editor about Rugby players in the last issue, what other section can boast of producing the fol-lowing:- 5 Chief Officers, an ACC, 5 Chief Superintendents, 5 Superintendents, 5 Chief Inspectors and any number of inspectors and sergeants It cannot all have been be-cause Sydney LAW-RENCE liked rugby. Sincere thanks to Frank for these lovely memories of how Hull City used to be. I am suitably and justifia-bly boll...... admonished.

FUNNIEST MEMORIES

There are those people who served in the force who were fortunate enough to gain one or two promotions along the way.

Those that did will under-stand the memories of one such ,‘Lottery Winner’ as he puts it, when he recalls his first day as an inspector. Perhaps, for the benefit of the very recently retired, or particularly for the still serv-ing officers, we should ex-plain that this story is set in the days when inspectors had the curious and ques-tionable habit of going out on the streets and doing po-lice work.

A BUM RAP My first day as an inspector. All those mixed emotions. Unease, pride, exuberance and a new uniform. Im-maculate creases, pristine white shirt and a flat cap, which always seemed too big. Nevertheless a proud day, if somewhat worrying when you have been told that after 5 p.m. you are the Chief Constable of the City Centre. It was the 2 -10 shift and if there had been a Town Crier he would have said that at

9.30 all is well. At 9.35 he would have said that all is definitely not well. It was shortly after 9.30 that I was outside the Punch Ho-tel when I received the call “Castle Box, report of a man being raped” I walked quickly to the box but saw that the CID car had beaten me to it. I opened the door of the box, which looked directly out on to the footpath giv-ing a clear view of the in-side to anyone passing ei-ther along the footpath or the road. I will never forget the sight that greeted me. At the front of the box there was a man bent down facing away from me, apparently touching his toes with his trousers round his ankles. There was a detective at each side of the man and one of them had a torch, the beam of which was di-rected towards an unmen-tionable place. Further inside the box, but to the left was a young lady who was covered in soot from head to toe. I will not tell you in detail of the view I had of this unfortunate man as I opened the door, but I am constantly reminded of the old music hall joke about the man who invented ‘Cats Eyes’. It is said that if the cat had been walking the way he Rugby Team (circa 1953)

would have invented the pencil sharpener. I never did like pencil sharpeners. I was partly getting over the shock of seeing the two ‘Acting Police Surgeons’ in action when I asked the young lady what she was doing in the box and, more significantly, what she was doing covered in soot. I had already thought that life was much better as a sergeant and considered jumping up and down on my oversized hat. How-ever, having calmed every-body down, including me, the story unfolded. The man had been as-saulted in a passage, pun not intended, outside of the Earl De Grey and he had then gone home to tell his wife. She was just starting to make the fire and, no doubt due to the sudden opening and closing of the door, was in the direct line when a huge fall of soot detached itself from the chimney. They both went to the box to report the as-sault, wife still in her Al Jolson outfit. You will be relieved to know that the detectives relinquished their roles of surgeons and an appropri-ate examination was car-ried out, proving that no-one had been raped. The nature of the assault was never satisfactorily re-solved but filed under ‘Iffy’

End Next ............. not only In-spectors have problems when matters come to a ....er.... head. ACTION! ACTION!

1960’S STYLE It was an otherwise normal weekday afternoon in the City CID HQ. The duty clerk was working away in the general office answer-ing telephone calls and en-suring that the duty crime occurrence log was kept up to date. The deputy head of the CID, Detective Chief In-spector Bob HATHER, was also in the general of-fice. He was taking a cas-ual look at the day’s crime situation through the oc-currence log sheets. Four or five detective constables were attending to routine paperwork in the consta-bles’ office. A couple of detective sergeants were checking crime files under investigation and the duty detective inspector was do-ing his best to appear im-portant, but he had little to do as no serious crime had been reported that day. Two detectives were dic-tating statements of evi-dence to the shorthand typ-ists in the CID typing pool. Other detectives were in various parts of the city

carrying out their investi-gations into crime previ-ously allocated to them for investigation. Suddenly the general calm of the department erupted w h e n J i m C O C K -SWORTH, the head of the city detectives, dashed out of his ground floor office and into an otherwise empty corridor. “I want action. I want action”, he demanded in his well known and authoritative voice. The duty clerk heard the call but his mind was fully occupied taking down the details of a stolen Ford Consul car from Water-house Lane that morning. No-one hearing his voice quite knew who Jim was shouting at and those offi-cers in the various offices off the corridor carried on with their work as though the ‘I want action’ call was not directed at them. Jim was getting angry. “Doesn’t anyone hear me”, he bellowed, “Am I the head of deaf and dumb detectives?”. With that he stormed into the general office, his face red with annoyance. “I want action and I want it now”, he shouted. The duty clerk looked up, realised that he was the only junior officer present

and made towards the of-fice door thinking that whatever action was needed, he had better go into action. He grabbed his jacket from behind the door and dashed into the corridor, but he didn’t know what action to take, or where to go if he did. No-one ever questioned J im COCKSWORTH about anything. He was the boss, he was the disci-plinarian and - horror of horrors - he had the power to post you out of the CID into uniform. That meant working shifts and all the night duty that involved. Being kicked out of the CID could become a heavy black spot on one’s career for years to come. No-one dare ask what ac-tion was called for, as it was common practise to give the head of CID the impression that, being a detective, you knew every-thing. Therefore there fol-lowed a strange kind of collective impressiveness that everyone knew what was required and go into ACTION. Individually, the detectives decided to get out of the way, or at least, out of Jim’s way, hoping that somehow things would turn out all right. Action simply meant work and it was easy for a detective to appear to be working.

Just as the duty clerk had dashed out of the office, DCI Bob HATHER real-ised that, apart from Jim, he was the only one there to answer the phones. That was a little beneath a man with the rank of De-tective Chief Inspector - so he turned sharply to leave the office and immediately slammed face first into the edge of the open office door. Down he went crashing on to the floor un-conscious and prostrate just inside the doorway. By now two of the tele-phones were ringing loudly but with the duty clerk hurrying away in reckless abandon, there was no duty clerk to an-swer them. Jim COCK-SWORTH was now stand-ing as if frozen to the spot in disbelief and speechless as he stared down at his unconscious deputy. And just for a moment it ap-peared that Jim would suf-fer apoplexy. The sound of the two tele-phones ringing prompted Detective Sergeant Eddie BEEDHAM to call in the general office as he was leaving the charge office nearby. He saw Bob HATHER ly-ing there but simply stepped over his prostrate body in a sense of urgency to answer the telephones.

It was a Golden (Head of CID) rule that no general office telephone should ring out more than three times before being an-swered. And as if to show that he knew and respected the rule, BEEDHAM glanced a t COCK-SWORTH to show a pa-tronising expression of an-noyance that the clerk was not there to take the calls. “I’m hear Sir, I’ll put it right” he said. Of course he didn’t know anything about the earlier demands for action from his boss. In the meantime one of the Detective Inspectors, well known to his subordinates as a complete and utter ar-rogance, and not one to get his hands dirty, had heard the shouts for action. He hurriedly grabbed the keys for the one and only CID car which was parked out-side in Queens Gardens and asked a detective ser-geant and two detective constables to drop what they were doing and go with him. As they dashed past the general office the DI glanced into the doorway but merely shrugged his shoulders as he saw the DCI lying on his back on the floor. The four detectives got in to the CID car (registration number YKH 161) and with one of the

sergeants driving, they sped off towards Victoria Square. Once on their way the ser-geant asked the DI where they were going. “We are not going any-where sergeant”, he replied, “We are just getting out of the office, COCKSWORTH wants action so it is best to let him see that he is getting it. We shall drive around for half an hour and by then what ever action he wanted will have settled down.” The four drove about the city centre for a while trying to look important as they peered from under the brims of their regulation trilby hats but did not know of anyone they were looking for and were going nowhere in par-ticular. The duty clerk still had the sound of Jim COCK-SWORTH’s voice bouncing about his head as he ven-tured out of the building into the rear yard. He had only been in the CID a short while and certainly did not want to be returned to uni-form. Luck was with him though because he found one of the new police Velocette motor-cycles in the yard at the back of the CID offices. Feeling the need to do something - anything - he jumped on the Velocette and set off along Grimston Street, almost immediately

driving into an elderly cy-clist innocently riding his bicycle along the street. The cyclist was hurled, al-most head over heels, across the handlebars of his bike and into the road. Fortunately he suffered nothing more serious than grazed hands and a slightly bruised shoulder. The completely panic stricken clerk skidded to a halt, hurriedly told the un-fortunate cyclist to report the accident to the police and quickly jumped back on the motorcycle and sped off to nowhere in par-ticular. The accident was not reported officially. About an hour later the four gallant action men sheepishly returned to CID HQ quietly, entering by the back yard door. There was no sign of Jim but Bob HATHER could be seen through a gap in his office door sitting quiet and alone with his elbows propping his hands on his head over his desk. The duty clerk had re-turned and was again busy answering the telephones. The DI took a nonchalant glance at the duty log and found that the head of CID had entered a telephone call he had received from the Chief Constable. It read,

‘COCKSWORTH: The Chief constable has just received a call from Dr.Phillip SCIENCE who reports that he thinks that a man wanted for indecent exposure is in his surgery on Anlaby Road. Send someone there right away.’ In the ACTION column, the following message ap-peared: ‘Several detectives sent to the surgery’ Immediately after it, De-t e c t i v e S e r g e a n t BEEDHAM entered the following: ‘Standing in for the duty clerk - who I think is suf-fering from excessive looseness of the bowels - I received the following message from Dr. SCI-ENCE - The man has now left the surgery so don’t bother sending anyone. I was probably mistaken.

QUOTATIONS “Detective work has been marginalised over the last 15 years. Some police chiefs are frightened of the enormity of the issues in-volved.” Tony ROGERS, ACPO Homicide Working Group. “Every society gets the kind of criminal it de-serves. What is equally true is that every society gets the kind of law en-forcement it insists on.” Robert KENNEDY

“Give me all your brains or I’ll blow your money out.” Armed robber to bank teller, Norristown, Pennsylvania. “Real sport has nothing to do with fair play” George ORWELL “People who are Masters in their own house are never tyrants” Napoleon I “I don’t think we have failed, we have just found another way that doesn’t work” - would be round the world balloonist, Andy EL-SON. “Never test the water with both feet” - Origin un-known.

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

Dear Ed I write to say many thanks for your reference to me in your Newsletter. Should any old friend in the asso-ciation wish to write to me my address is as follows - 4, Coachwood Court, Wynn Vale, South Australia S127. Regards Peter LUNN Dear Editor I am writing on behalf of my husband who is a member of

your association but can’t attend your reunions. He enjoys your Newsletter very much and sends grateful thanks. Name and address sup-plied. Dear Steve (He gets the credit for everything - and rightly so!!) I served in the Hull City Police from 1952 to 1953. My name is Frank JOHN-SON and my number was 365. I served in Central Divi-sion and particularly re-member Sergeant WILT-SHIRE and Inspector CAPSTICK. I returned to sea when I left the police, working for Wilson Line before emi-grating to Toronto, Can-ada in 1967. Since then I have had various seagoing positions before retiring in 1985. I would like to be remem-bered to my ex colleagues who were very kind to me during my short time in the police service. I now live in Vancouver Island. Cheers Frank JOHNSON (We have Mr JOHNSON’s postal and E Mail address should anyone require it)

Dear Editor Your story in the last issue about an unfortunate young police officer whose exploits were recorded in verse on a beat box struck a memory chord with me. Tommy CAMMISH, who was a renowned wood-worker, replaced the cross, which was desecrated in Chants Cemetery in 1963. Regards Frank STOREY EDITORS NOTE: We are currently in touch with Bob MARSHALL (145) who lives in Hobart, Tas-mania. He and his wife Jackie send their regards to everyone.

GORDON STREET Some really nice stories received about the old sta-tion, thank you. We’ll start with a scene setter. This correspondent clearly has very fond memories of the place.

VILLAGE IN A CITY

Every time I watch Heart-beat on the TV my mind goes back to Gordon Street. What? Rolling hills and beautiful valleys, picturesque cot-tages and gentle streams

winding their way through the villages. No not be-cause of that, although some of the earlier music on the programme takes me back a bit. It’s because Gordon Street Police Sta-tion was really like a vil-lage police station, closer to the community than I ever experienced again in my service. When I read in the papers about the modern service striving to regain this part-nership it is not difficult to see where it has all gone wrong. Those of you who remember the decade im-mediately post war, and some of those whose memories are slightly more recent must remem-ber the atmosphere of the place. First of all it was set in ex-actly the right position, smack in the middle of the people it served, secondly it was staffed with police officers that knew the area and its population better than they knew them-selves. Most of these offi-cers were very experienced and those that were not were closely schooled until they were able. Though I was born fairly close to the station, I could not ever remember having seen it before that day when, having survived 12 weeks at Training School, I reported for duty at some unearthly hour on a bitter

winter’s morning. The first thing that occurred to me was the date on the front of the building, which I think is 1895. All that history preceding me through those doors. Inside was like Tardis. The slightly odd L shape, cav-ernous rooms still bearing marks of who knows what on the walls and that curi-ous style of internal finish-ing where the floor tiles curved upwards to meet the walls. The marvellous open fires, especially the one in the charge room, which I was allowed to glimpse when I was pass-ing the open door on a winter’s night. A beautiful lady called Mrs Kielty who kept the place clean and a huge ket-tle always on the boil in the kitchen next to the pa-rade room. She was the epitome of everybody’s Mum and her warm smile cheered me on so many occasions. There you have the scene, but there is much more to come from the above source in future issues. For now here is a contribution from another fan of the old nick.

MEMORIES OF GORDON STREET

I was posted to Western Division on joining the po-lice in 1947 and being an East Hull lad I didn’t even

know where Gordon Street was. My first memory was an old copper saying ‘Are you just joining us lad, I hope you are looking for-ward to 15 years on nights, seven and a half on 6-2 and seven and a half on 2-10’. He then relented and gave me an old lignum vitae truncheon which he had carried through the general strike and which I still pos-sess. No account of Gordon Street would be complete without really thinking about the conditions in which we were forced to serve in those days ........ only half an hour for lunch and it meant exactly that .... not a minute more, not a minute less. If you were eating in a Po-lice Box, the only means of boiling a cast iron kettle was on a little electric ring which was not suitable to boil within the half hour. You were not allowed to leave the ring on....because some fool had set fire to a box once by doing so. Needless to say that rule was always broken, but some of the sergeants would go round and feel the kettle. If it was warm they would empty it. At Gordon Street a very

large kettle was always on the boil so at least you got hot tea. The station beat man used to go into the station at about 4.30 a.m. to clean the station, and, if Harry DAVILL was the station sergeant, to make up the fourth in a game of solo. The fish shop in Red-bourne Street was marvel-lous and a King Size had-dock meant just that ..... I haven’t seen anything like it since I left Hull. We only had two cells and in the early days the pris-oners were kept and proc-essed there. If you locked up a particularly noisy and violent prisoner you could be called by certain ser-geants to go into the cells and ‘take his boots off’. It does not need much imagi-nation to realise what that meant. I worked at Gordon Street as Constable, Sergeant and Inspector.... and in general terms enjoyed every min-ute of it though times were hard. My first pay packet, which we had to go to re-ceive on a pay parade in the billiard room amounted to £4.6s 2d .. half of which went to my mother for board... it certainly did not leave much for pleas-ure and nothing for saving. The decorations in the Sta-tion when I joined were cream painted walls and

green glossed doors. In 1994 I was lucky enough to be shown round the old station. It hadn’t changed a bit and the decor was still the same. I looked into what had been the Su-perintendent’s office, where I stood on a number of occasions to be spoken to harshly. It brought memories flood-ing back and the ghosts of all the people with whom I served were with me that afternoon. When I joined, the then Superintendent, Tommy EDWARDS, used to come to work on his bike from the Spring Bank West area. How things changed in later years when they were taxied to and from work and even home to lunch, to the detri-ment of the efficiency of the Traffic Department. One of the funniest memo-ries I have of the old place concerns Curly GAR-DINER. He once rode a stray horse bare back through the front door of the station much to the consternation of the re-serve man and the station sergeant, Harold BEALES. Another is Sidney LAW-RENCE visiting the station late one night when a par-ticularly noisy and violent prisoner was kicking off behind the counter. He looked at the gap where the door between the re-serve room and the charge

room should have been and said ‘It’s about time we had a heavy swing door put there’. Those of us who remember the swing door at the end of the pas-sage at Parliament Street knew exactly what he meant. There is so much more which could be said about this time and this division. I think sometime I will write an article entitled ‘Memories’ I feel that there is so much in the heads of the older former policemen that it ought to be written down for poster-ity, even if no-one else is interested. I am sure my grandchildren would find it of interest in years to come. Editor......... We could not agree more with the last paragraph. History de-mands that people write it all down. It is priceless.

PROSECUTOR’S

TALES Welcome to a new feature. Of all the funny stories about the police service, court stories are my per-sonal favourite. Grateful thanks are therefore due to the author, and despite the fact that most of you will work out his name, we are sticking to our policy of not naming unless the story is self disclosing.

GRIPPING STUFF We have all had experi-ence of the activities of flashers. The common va-riety used to be the man in the long black coat and nondescript bicycle, who would leap off his bike, usually under a street lamp, and reveal all. Not a pretty sight. Try this for size and style. Two Irish ‘Navies’, built like the proverbial brick out houses and who would have looked at home with McAlpine stamped on their foreheads, went on a bender one Saturday after-noon. At some stage they arrived outside the Wimpy Bar in Paragon Street. The first thing that met their gaze through the clear glass entrance doors was a group of young la-dies sitting at a table. No doubt influenced by the size of their burgers one Paddy unzipped his banana and, not content to merely display his wares, decided to grip it with both hands and bang it against the glass doors. The door withstood the challenge and Paddy was duly of-fered the hospitality of the cells. Paddy, suitably embar-rassed, appeared before the Magistrates and I outlined the case, ending by glanc-ing towards the dock and

then towards the Chairman of the Magistrates. The Chairman was also obviously embarrassed by the situation and there fol-lowed a short silence whilst he formulated his words, before finally he announced in an authorita-tive voice, “You really must take a firm grip on yourself Pat-rick” Unfortunately the Chair-man paused before con-tinuing, allowing a wag at the back of the court to shout out, “He couldn’t have got a much firmer grip could he?” Spontane-ous applause followed be-fore order was restored. Watch this space for more howlers.

WHAT YOU ARE WONDERING

Do rugby players play League when they are young and Union when they grow old? Just why did Inspectors abandon the practice of street policing? Now that the Hull City Council has given the H u m b e r s i d e P o l i c e £1million from the flota-tion of Kingston Commu-nications to increase police

cover in the City Centre, will inspectors be asked to go out now and again? Will history judge the di-vorcing of militaristic practices (HMI Parade) from the police, and mak-ing it a service instead of a force, a good thing or a bad thing. What the barrack room lawyers in the job during the 1970’s and 1980’s would have made of the war time instructions for action when an air raid alert was sounded? Will today’s teenagers communicate in written English with the same flu-ency as John ANDERSON when they are in their eighties? How we laugh and even cringe at the autocratic, ty-rannical leadership style of people like Sydney LAW-RENCE and Jim COCK-SWORTH. It is sad that this outrageous style en-abled the job to be done much more efficiently than it is in today’s politically correct obsessed fashion. How outrageous it is that so much of the English language has been hi-jacked by minority pres-sure groups since 1940?

What an amazing world it is we live in when hun-dreds of people cannot ring the police quick enough to name some idi-ots who pulled down a rugby post when the same people would rather die than report someone for child abuse, robbing old women, burglary etc.

Why don’t the press react with similar hysterical fer-vour when Mrs SMITH, the 79 years old from Bil-ton Grange, is knocked to the floor for the contents of her handbag? What the fuss is all about when discussing the new logo for ‘hull’? We all know CID clerks who did-n’t know that it should have been a capital letter in the first place.

Was it worth supporting the Hull City Police Sports Club for thirty-odd years?

If someone, somewhere, has his or her values mixed up in the police service of to-day?

Are the photos on this page really of George HODGES, Dave LEWIS and Alan HOLMES about to embark on an under-cover surveillance mis-sion?

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