<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647</id><updated>2011-11-01T04:27:07.984-07:00</updated><category term='searches'/><category term='crowds'/><category term='overkill'/><category term='knifes'/><category term='proactive policing'/><category term='booze'/><category term='gobsmacked'/><category term='monday books'/><category term='thanks'/><category term='the paramedics diary'/><category term='wasting ambulance time'/><category term='LAS'/><category term='wonderful'/><category term='vodka'/><category term='teenagers'/><category term='urgent assistance'/><category term='courts'/><category term='stops'/><category term='mingers'/><category term='stabbing'/><category term='buses'/><category term='alcoholic'/><category term='off on time'/><category term='weird'/><category term='teens'/><category term='guns'/><category term='misper'/><category term='gene hunt'/><category term='fraud'/><category term='ambulance'/><category term='rtc'/><title type='text'>Life on Mars</title><subtitle type='html'>I feel like I've landed on another planet...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-318016855690262808</id><published>2009-08-25T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T21:24:15.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiatus</title><content type='html'>So the blog is still on hiatus I'm afraid and will be for the rest of the year at least. I still check the emails and will reply if I get a chance. I'm okay having a great time what I'm doing and will update further early next year. Thanks for your patience all readers.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tyler&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-318016855690262808?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/318016855690262808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=318016855690262808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/318016855690262808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/318016855690262808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2009/08/hiatus.html' title='Hiatus'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-3507237272466082448</id><published>2008-12-28T05:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T05:37:04.292-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misper'/><title type='text'>Sabbatical</title><content type='html'>Well I had a few emails from people wondering where the hell I'd got to so I thought it polite to just let everyone know what's going on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost the blog bug in July after my last post, having some difficulties in my non-professional life, nothing major I hasten to add! Since then I've gone on attachment in a different department and although life isn't so exciting anymore there's certainly a lot less to moan about! So I haven't had much cause to put pen to paper, or fingers to keys as it might be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So an apology for all those readers who want to see my work again I don't know exactly when I'll be back but I might throw together one last post before hanging up my blogging boots for a while. I will be back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-3507237272466082448?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/3507237272466082448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=3507237272466082448' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3507237272466082448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3507237272466082448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/12/sabbatical.html' title='Sabbatical'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-3207037624237727120</id><published>2008-07-25T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T15:07:37.279-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wasting ambulance time'/><title type='text'>Wasting ambulance time</title><content type='html'>We hear a lot about wasting police time, hell just read David Copperfields marvellous book. Coppers' heads were nodding all round the country, including mine. I have never been so drunk that an ambulance has been called for me, I have never got an ambulance when a lift or a taxi has sufficed and I've sure as hell never hoax called any of the emergency services. Not like some of the people you read about &lt;a href="http://theparamedicsdiary.blogspot.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in my professionnal life, I barely go a day without wasting their time. Our instructions are basically if someone we come into contact with is intoxicated/injured/ill in any way, call the ambulance. It covers my arse or should I say the arse of the MPS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come across drunks, whether called by members of the public, the ambulance or come across them direct. I then have to make a decision as to whether there's a chance if I leave them they're going to choke on their own vomit or they're going to waddle off happily and recover. Generally my rule is, if they can stand and insult me, they're probably the latter. I try and avoid calling the ambulance in this instance but when it comes to arresting a drunkard who's not being violent or disorderly, or palming them off to the ambulance to deal with them, the choice is simple. And I hate doing that. I wish they'd just wander off and be adult for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people are assaulted and even though I can't SEE any injuries it doesn't mean they've got any. But sometimes, especially when heads are involved, we're more inclined to call the ambo. Arse covering you see. At least they're qualified to make the decision as to this person's condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone tells me they're ill or they feel a bit faint, I'm not going to refer them to their GP, what if its serious? Call the ambo down, they can sort that out, they've got the knowledge to refer them to their GP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now its not just us who are involved in arse covering. Take this example for the chain of arses being covered. A man is brought into custody who is of the age where he should be fit and well, has no previous medical history to speak of. He 'collapses', I don't think it's genuine, but we call an ambulance. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Police arse covered.&lt;/span&gt; The ambulance turns up and they think he's faking, he can't tolerate an intubator which is a tell tale sign, but they can't get him to stop playing, so they decide to take him to hospital. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ambo arse covered.&lt;/span&gt; He's booked in at A&amp;amp;E and the handovers given. The nursing staff and doctor think he's putting it on, but they can't get enough consciousness to turf him out, so they admit him for obs overnight. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hospital arse covered.&lt;/span&gt; Of course the people who are with him throughout this whole chain of events are.... us! So chummy still wins cos he's wasted &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a lot  &lt;/span&gt;of our time. But that I don't mind, we're used to our time being wasted. What I don't like is an ambulance with a crew of two men/women who can resucitate people from cardiac arrest dealing with my faking prisoner before taking up a bed in a hospital next to people with real medical issues who could be my dad or mum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now before I get a load of abuse from my best friends dressed in green I'd just like to point out that this isn't how it should be and I HATE calling the ambulance for people who don't deserve them. But at the end of the day, we all work for accountable organisations and this is the world we live in. Plus we get to see our best mates the ambulance service on a more regular basis :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-3207037624237727120?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/3207037624237727120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=3207037624237727120' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3207037624237727120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3207037624237727120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/07/wasting-ambulance-time.html' title='Wasting ambulance time'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-4992335017542209308</id><published>2008-07-14T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T14:19:39.532-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knifes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='courts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='proactive policing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gene hunt'/><title type='text'>Proactive policing and Gene Hunt</title><content type='html'>It's very rare these days to get any proactive policing done on a response team. Stops, arrests and searches are usually generated by calls and when you're not answering them you're writing up previous ones or eating. The only time you do get a chance is late on a night duty ie after 3am, when most of the criminals are finally in bed and you're left too shattered to keep driving around in circles watching milkmen and coppers going in for early turn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you do get a good night with minimal calls and a keen colleague. The festive season is one of these times. Brad and I went on a mission with a breathalyser in the glovebox and a new lease of life. We stopped about 18 cars and bagged them....with a negative result. The last one I stopped was a transit three up with no lights on. Alarm bells were ringing. Sure enough the driver staggered out to us and refused to blow into the machine. His mates were bigger than the two of us and they were interfering. A call for another unit was made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was nicked for failing to provide and after a long charade of unconsciousness that the ambulance couldn't even disprove we ended up in the local A&amp;amp;E. He was chucked out by the doctors after a couple of hours for feigning it. But not after his blood was diluted substantially by an IV. Anyway, back to the nick and we managed to get two satisfactory breaths out of him in the machine. He was over, still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a spate of proactive arrests recently some of which have been for "non-sexy" stuff that is still none-the-less illegal. I get some stick and everyone on the team thinks I'm made for traffic with some of the arrests I bring in but hey, might as well earn my money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to do a bit of "old-fashioned policing", trying to find criminals before they commit crimes, rather than after. A lot of the time recently we're getting s60s put in place, which basically means for a period of 24hrs (extendable to 48) we can search anyone with no grounds (preferably in a group) to make sure they're not carrying weapons when serious violence is anticipated. I'd love to say I contribute to preventing knife crime in teenagers but I'm afraid searching everyone in a hoodie and finding nothing doesn't make much difference. Without actually imposing stiffer sentences these youths are not going to be deterred. I always look at the "rapp sheet" for people I arrest and some of these people have 20 or more convictions for kindred offences before they get put inside. Even then, they get short terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last arrest had been convicted of various immigration offences, and he was fined £10.00 for each of them. That £40 bill will show him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the police aren't doing enough to keep the public safe, not to mention only having four cars out last saturday night, the courts are doing a lot to keep the public in danger....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh and about Gene Hunt. He used to leave comments on this blog but he hasn't been around in a while.Whatever happened to him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-4992335017542209308?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/4992335017542209308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=4992335017542209308' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/4992335017542209308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/4992335017542209308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/07/proactive-policing-and-gene-hunt.html' title='Proactive policing and Gene Hunt'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-2826004886947098968</id><published>2008-07-14T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T13:18:18.467-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crowds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thanks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gobsmacked'/><title type='text'>A nice change</title><content type='html'>Well not much going on near Tyler, I've been away and on assignments involving very little police work for two months or so. I'm sure something will inspire me to put pen to paper in the near future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this particular recent assignment I was dealing with crowds, the nice sort. Of course this means giving directions to the same place repeatedly which is fine, but tedious. After an extremely long shift of cutting fown my directions from "Madam, the place you require is about ten minutes walk on your left hand side" to "That way" a lady walked up to me and I was just about to rattle off the pre-recorded message when she said "Thanks for keeping us safe"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was gobsmacked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My colleagues on response teams around the country will know what I mean....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-2826004886947098968?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/2826004886947098968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=2826004886947098968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/2826004886947098968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/2826004886947098968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/07/nice-change.html' title='A nice change'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-7112150692024099187</id><published>2008-06-18T03:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T04:03:44.292-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ambulance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stops'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='overkill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mingers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='searches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vodka'/><title type='text'>Mingers</title><content type='html'>If you're in the job you'll know there are some people who this word was made for. I'm not talking about some of the female police officers because that would be wrong, I'm talking about the lovely people out there on the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got sent to a drunk male collapsed on the stairs of one of the establishments on my area to move them on. Of course its understandable, it was 2 in the afternoon. When we arrived this guy was sparko, lying face down on the steps. It was my old friend John (not his real name) I've met him in the same situation many times before. It's a really nice hot day but we weren't going to be able to wake him. Double gloved as he has every contagious disease you can think of, still wearing his trousers supplied from the hospital days before. We move him to a less painful position and he doesn't even stir. I reach for my radio with regret and say "Can we have an ambulance down here please?" I hate wasting the ambulance's time like this but in an ass-covering exercise we have to. In fairness, this guy is obliterated and he won't be able to move on if he wanted to. I can smell him from a few feet away, which is quite impressive in fresh air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ambulance eventually turn up (I wouldn't want them to rush to this time waster) and the two paramedics get out, they already know him and agree he'll have to go to hospital to sober up and then storm out to get some more vodka. The offending bottle is nearby and it is cheap polish vodka, 40%. My guess is he's drank it in about ten minutes. The paramedics are as sensitive as we are, not very. They bring the trolley bed out and we load him up. Off he goes to hospital and the ambulance and us can go back to doing some 'real' work, until the next one of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we're sweeping up the mess on the pavement (metaphorically) there's an emergency call for an old lady who's been hit by a bus. How ironic, here we are with a 2 paramedic EMERGENCY ambulance and two warranted police officers with a drunk. We're the only unit available to go and there's going to be a delay because of this alcoholic. Thankfully she's okay and there was a fresh ambulance crew ready to deal with a proper injury by the time we arrive on scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some more nothing calls throughout the evening and we got our full lunch break which was refreshing. Late on another unit is doing a stop on a car that is 'four up' and needs some assistance, we scream up as we're nearby along with two other units including a van. The occupants look startled at the police presence. We then spend the next ten minutes being told how much we're hated and how this is the reason we are. Apparently we shouldn't be cuffing people under 18 (?) and we have to make small talk with these muppets while my other colleagues complete checks and searches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I got off on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write about more mingers...I could post for two months with a post for each if I wanted to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-7112150692024099187?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/7112150692024099187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=7112150692024099187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/7112150692024099187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/7112150692024099187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/06/mingers.html' title='Mingers'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-6392170065716640400</id><published>2008-05-13T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T07:02:53.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RTA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Its a lovely sunny day in my area and I'm out in a minibus full of probationers and we've all been on the street for about 3 weeks (exceot the instructors of course!). We take a few calls and turn up like rabbits in headlights en mass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shall we get some refs?" Asks the instructor&lt;br /&gt;It's decided we'll be going to McDonalds, it feels like a school trip.&lt;br /&gt;"Can we have a unit please - personal injury RTA car vs Motorcycle, elm street"&lt;br /&gt;Refs will wait, yeh we'll have that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I'm only new I've already made the assumption that it'll be a sore neck or a sore leg -  someone after compensation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The road is packed with traffic backed up makes it hard to negotiate a 9-seater minibus down. I see the motorcyclist but no bike. He's lying on the floor face down in the middle of the road. Not as expected then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all jump out of the van keen as anything and an instructor and I run to the man. His face in the helmet is lifeless and spattered with blood. It's all hands on deck and the road closures are going in like a well oiled machine. Probationers chasing gawpers up the road to get them out of the scene shouting and being police officers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LAS turn up on scene not a minute too soon and start working on the male immediately, one of my colleagues has felt his pulse stopping and he's quickly whisked away leaving  ruined leathers, intubators, empty plastic packets from all the medical stuff on the tarmac. He dies en route to the hospital. Traffic are on scene measuring stuff while my friend completes his first accident report, for a fatal accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to find out his identity and look through his personal effects. There's the driving license, there's the DVD he was going to drop back to blockbusters on the way home from work, there's the bike magazine with his next bike in it. There's his mobile phone which beeps as I look at it. I read the message "Are you going to pick up Tom from football tonight?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I speak to his wife who is picked up at home by a local unit and rushed to the hospital. It turns out they had an argument two days ago about washing the dishes. They hadn't spoken since....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Another nostalgia post from the early days. These sorts of incidents really stick in your mind. I think we get accustomed to certain calls and think we can predict what they're going to be. Even at this low level of service I was making assumptions - I learnt my first major lesson that day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-6392170065716640400?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/6392170065716640400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=6392170065716640400' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/6392170065716640400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/6392170065716640400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/05/rta.html' title='RTA'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-3791322641276637060</id><published>2008-04-14T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T15:32:36.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twelve men good and true</title><content type='html'>I'm put out. I was looking forward to my last shift for 4 days and I receive a phone call. "Tyler, you're warned for Crown Court on Monday 10am court 10." Oh great, first time I've had all my rest days for months and they've been robbed, I don't even remember the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know one thing, I wasn't an arresting officer - why are they doing this to me? I know there's a reason but I don't care to think about it. So the few days off disappear and I trundle down to the local Crown Court. I'm sifting through the file looking for my statement so I can remember what the hell I'm here for. As I do I see the pictures of the victim - beaten to a pulp for twenty quid - an elderly man who'll never be able to see his grandchildren because of the brutal attack. And I see the CCTV pictures of the snarling, cunning suspects after they wrecked this guys life, running onto commit further offences in a horrible early morning crime spree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I'm here for, in my ridiculously itchy and hot number ones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the victim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I speak to the Criminal Protection Service and they say the shits have pleaded guilty for a lesser offence after much persuasion even though the evidence is so overwhelming it would only be a show trial if they went not-guilty. The victim who is now blind wants to proceed for closure, the CPS don't want to because there's risk with sending this to trial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wait for hours, nervous because I want to do what is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pleas for the lesser offence are accepted. At least I get my second day off. I don't think the victim feels the same...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-3791322641276637060?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/3791322641276637060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=3791322641276637060' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3791322641276637060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3791322641276637060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/04/twelve-men-good-and-true.html' title='Twelve men good and true'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-5785469441939149452</id><published>2008-04-14T06:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T06:34:21.913-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rtc'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenagers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stabbing'/><title type='text'>Medical issues</title><content type='html'>Just your bog standard saturday night duty, twelve hours where anything can happen. When I used to drive into work I'd put on something uplifting to gear me up for these famously violent and busy nights - usually Muse did the trick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight though nothings going on. I have some tea and am not dragged out halfway through with a burnt throat - strange. My colleague and I do some targetted patrolling and decide to stop for a bite to eat while we can. We're sent a few non-urgent jobs that can wait til later and I scoff down my chicken nuggets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can we have a unit please, 46 Letsby Avenue, stabbing at the location, victim is not conscious, not breathing"&lt;br /&gt;A huge list of call signs 'put up' for it and we end up screaming down the main road with blue lights bouncing off the road signs in a very noisy convoy. We're second on scene along with about 5 other units, there's two ambulances outside the address and an FRU. The unit already in the address hasn't updated us - this is usually a bad sign because it means they're either too busy dealing with something major or they're in trouble. Anyway, we poke our heads in and everyone's looking rather relaxed - except the poor bloke who's missing half his face and swearing in Polish. At least he's conscious AND breathing - we're looking at slightly less than a murder here so we shoot off to an RTC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Car vs Motorcycle - I try and go to these being a motorcyclist myself I like to help out. The man's not badly injured but the units on scene have ambulances and debris in the road and they need someone to direct traffic. Hi-Viz on and I'm there for a good half hour directing traffic with a colleague. Some people completely ignore me, some don't even see me despite the bright yellow reflective jacket. Turns out the rider was going along the main road when a car decided it didn't have to give way or look and took him out. It reminded me that no matter who's fault it is if you're on the bike - it's gonna hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this we grab some proper food and on the way past a youth club there's a large group standing outside. My colleague says to me "It's gonna kick off there tonight"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sit down and dig in - half way through my kebab we get a call to said youth club - stabbing at the location so we drop our half eaten grub and race down there. We can't find the victim so my unit decide to do an area search while we leave another car at scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beep-beep-beep the emergency button on someone else's radio is activated. I know the whole borough is all ears. We hear something garbled about a gunshot and race to our colleague. On approach we see them and the ambulances all blue lighting it away. They must be okay then. The armed response turn up in good time and find a teenager outside with a entry and exit wound in his shoulder. He gets taken to the local hospital while everyone looks for the gunman but the description could be anyone. I meet the victim at the hospital and to my surprise he hasn't lost consciousness. The paramedic who was with him has done a very good job and asked every question I would have and hands the information over to me. Well done that man. So I start a log noting everyone who visits him - I only allow family in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I overhear the doctors speaking and they say the bullets missed every bone, every blood vessel and every nerve on its way in and out. This guy is truly lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat there in the resus department and looked at the 5 beds. Three of the beds were occupied by people I had dealt with that evening. The Polish chap, the motorcyclist and now the wounded teenager. I don't think that's happened to me before!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a manic night - but I got off on time.... which was nice&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-5785469441939149452?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/5785469441939149452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=5785469441939149452' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/5785469441939149452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/5785469441939149452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/04/medical-issues.html' title='Medical issues'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-8104811651319609552</id><published>2008-04-06T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T12:03:19.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cracked</title><content type='html'>Not much going on in the UKPS at the moment so a lack of posts. I could tell you about the numerous domestics I've been to but they're all the same. They're all a rich mixture of Stella Artois, childishness, false allegations and underclass...in different proportions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it was snowing today not much was going on except me being very careful driving the car around the greasy roads. "Ping" one of the weekend arrest enquiries for Mr S.Callywag who has breached his tagged curfew cos he's been out on the lash arrives on the box... Still, its Sunday and everyone else is getting similar incidents sent through so I decide to show willing. I arrive at the address and climb out of the car with snow covering my goretex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knock on the door quite hard and hear a "just a minute". I'm not concerned at the delay its early on a Sunday morning and he's hardly wanted for murder. The door opens and the mother greets me, she asks what he's done now - I tell her and she rolls her eyes. Typical nonchalant mother of the underclass, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wakey wakey mister&lt;br /&gt;Mr S "But its Sunday morning"&lt;br /&gt;ST "I know and I've been up since 5"&lt;br /&gt;Mr S "You're gonna nick me aren't you"&lt;br /&gt;ST "Yup!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do that bit and since I know he's just woken up and there are no windows in the toilet I let him use it. He knows he's going to be in til court the next morning and has a sly cigarette in there, I would! I speak to his mother who is now crying - less nonchalant, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask her what's wrong and she says he's out of control, he's been inside a lot (even though he's only a juvenile so its a YOI*) and smokes weed constantly, he has ADHD, he drinks and gets nicked all the time (really?!). He bullies and belittles her and she can't believe he's her son. The sob story rolls off like water off a duck's back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she says "You know it's my birthday today? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You coming here and taking him away is the best present I've had so far..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It saddened me how genuinely she meant the last comment. It also shattered my stereotype I'd had when I knocked on the door earlier. Of the mother... not the toerag.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Tyler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S I promise I'll try and post more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-8104811651319609552?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/8104811651319609552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=8104811651319609552' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/8104811651319609552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/8104811651319609552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/04/cracked.html' title='Cracked'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-5368892270896033352</id><published>2008-03-05T14:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T14:47:36.371-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret life</title><content type='html'>So here I am in the middle of a council housing estate with the cold winter wind eating through my goretex. I sheepishly walk up the stairs having heard a shout from above "She's dead - call LAS". I walk up to a cheap green door thats been split in half and I can see familiar round damage marks near where the lock used to be. This is an unexpected development - a welfare check for a mid-thirties lady doesn't usually prepare you for a dead body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The officers already on scene ask "Have you done one of these before?" I nod, but I'm lying, I've been out of training school for two weeks but I'm confident I remember what to write. I push the door open and there she is. She could be asleep except for the blood on her nose and the purple colouration in her skin. She looks peaceful and I expect that has something to do with the empty bottle of vodka on the floor. I can smell vomit but I don't smell rotting flesh. She hasn't been dead all that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look around the room for signs of struggle as I put on my purple gloves. I ask my colleague to help me search for injuries or anything suspicious. I turn her over and she's cold and stiff. She's heavy and I struggle - as the bed creaks I think for a moment that its her bones but think better of it. I try and leave her in situ and cover her up with the duvet again. I get my pen out as I'm expected to do and decide to spend the minimum time in the room as I describe it concisely and detailed in my book. I call up for an ambulance to attend. There's no rush and I don't expect to see them soon. I start completing my notes with the distraught brother who is crying. I find the concept of a grown man crying difficult to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ambulance crew attend and tell me they're going to complete their notes in the ambulance - the poor man in front of me doesn't need another set of uniforms to deal with. It's before trained paramedics can officially pronounce life extinct so I call the police doctor. They return and give me a copy of the triplicate form. I read it with interest looking where all the boxes are ticked and the crew's names wishing my paperwork were as simple to complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I wait for the doctor - who's in no rush - more family turn up requesting to see the body. I deny them - the doctor has to see her first. I feel sorry for them but it takes some pressure off me as they grieve together. I wait in the kitchen out of the way wishing I'd eaten something when my colleagues got takeaway earlier. The doctor arrives and I show him in - as he pronounces life extinct I note the time and the supervisor who's arrived confirms that it isn't suspicious. CID are monitoring - which means they've totally forgotten about this call. I won't. I sit there in the kitchen whilst various family members go in to look at the body. They ask about the blood around the nose and I tell them the doctor states it was brought on by the fitting. I check medical records and listen to what those closest to her have to tell me. She was told to stop drinking or one of her alcohol induced fits could kill her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look through her personal effects to make sure there's no goodbye notes. There isn't but there is a bottle of TCP. "That's what she used to mask the smell when she was at work" her brother says as he sees me inspecting it. She worked at a lab in a hospital he tells me. A hospital I know all too well. I go to the kitchen and am introduced to her daughter who is 16. She is distraught. I don't know what to say. She has lost her mother at the hardest time in her life. I am waiting for the undertakers. I will them to hurry up I can't handle the family anymore. They have no animosity towards me but I feel like just my presence is unwelcome. They've probably never had a police officer in their house before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The undertakers arrive and I wonder how someone ends up doing that job. Family business I think. They pick her up and throw her onto the stretcher and strap her in. The whole process seems disrespectful and I'm glad the family can't see it. They cover her with a blanket and take her down the stairs. I am offered a cup of tea which I decline. It feels wrong to make someone put themselves out after losing a loved one. The family can't wait for a housing association funded carpenter to come and fix the door and it's heart-wrenching to watch the grieving family repair their own door. I think it's wrong and wonder how it has come to this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I send my overtime form - I go home - I tell my friends what I did today "not much" I say. Life has changed permanently for the family, I will get up and go back to work the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk into the court and get changed into my tunic. I laugh and joke with other officers that are there. I walk up to court 1. I see the family sat outside and they are crying. They all look very smart. They recognise me and the brother shakes my hand and says "Thanks very much officer. I told the Coroner to go easy on you cos you're new" I thank him and head into the court. I'm briefed by the clerk and I sit there with sweaty palms. I haven't been in court before. I stand in the witness box for seconds and its over. I nod to the family as I walk out. I get changed and get on the train home. I go to the pub - my day is done. The family go home with a 16 year old daughter who's lost her mum through alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't know what inspired me to write this but I remember every detail as if it were today. This was from a while ago now and doesn't correspond to the date of the post. I'm going to do a few more "nostalgia" posts. Comments please&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-5368892270896033352?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/5368892270896033352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=5368892270896033352' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/5368892270896033352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/5368892270896033352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/03/secret-life.html' title='Secret life'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-1985937273879547651</id><published>2008-02-26T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T09:28:43.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Administration</title><content type='html'>Today was quite "Q" which meant I had a chance to get on top of my crimes and related paperwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My colleague also had a few bits and bobs to do which was handy and I got a chance for the odd cup of tea which was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to do a routine welfare check after a four day old incident got sent through to us. Immediately after knocking I was met by a hostile reception and of course the smell of alcohol on the breath. "We've sorted it we don't need you coppers here get off my f***ing doorstep copper" was the welcome. We were looking for the bloke who called us&lt;br /&gt;Occupant - "He's not here"&lt;br /&gt;My colleague - "Well where is he then?"&lt;br /&gt;O - " I don't f***in' know you smarmy b*tch - don't get smart with me"&lt;br /&gt;MC - ?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After slamming the door to go and get said male (turns out he was upstairs the whole time) I heard through the door "Cocky b*tch, I'll have her sergeant on the phone - why doesn't she get a real job?"&lt;br /&gt;What like being unemployed and pissed at 10am? Who makes these people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A strange call which came in as a shoplifter detained and then turned into an assault and then a crime report (obviously!) unfortunately we couldn't get on scene soon enough to get any result other than that but it will still need investigating. There is some CCTV and a school uniform so it might lead to something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we'd finished up there we went looking for someone who had recently been attempting to use a counterfeit driving license to open a bank account but someone else found them first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the control room for 16 divisions had to be evacuated so we had a brief moment of respite while it switched over to another site. I'm sure there were cheers in the other vehicles too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-1985937273879547651?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/1985937273879547651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=1985937273879547651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/1985937273879547651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/1985937273879547651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/02/administration.html' title='Administration'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-1300388481310851415</id><published>2008-02-25T07:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T07:58:46.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Policy summary</title><content type='html'>Now, I know I promised there wouldn't be much negativity on this blog but here's a post I drafted after a particularly rough patch at work and in the absence of fresh material (gotta love rest days!) I thought it was time for a new post....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the policy of the UKPS that: -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;any accident with an injury no matter how small or how reported for the purposes of claiming compensation will incur a decent amount of writing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;any crime report submitted will have fault found in it by a civilian who's never been a police officer before or tried to write a detailed report at 4am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;morale will not be tolerated at any time and should this eventuality occur it must be recorded and thoroughly investigated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there will be two ways to do everything and doing something to the best of your ability and in line with common sense is not always the best way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is no longer good enough to prevent crime and arrest offenders it is more important to make your superiors look good at all times than do your job&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despite all of this there can be an insulting pay increase and you must like it or lump it and carry on working 24/7 over weekends/christmas etc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite all this, I am keen to go to work in the hope that one day I will turn up and something will have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, I was on double bubble today so can't complain too much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-1300388481310851415?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/1300388481310851415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=1300388481310851415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/1300388481310851415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/1300388481310851415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/02/policy-summary.html' title='Policy summary'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-1550570140184626905</id><published>2008-02-16T11:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T11:44:16.897-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monday books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the paramedics diary'/><title type='text'>A worthy read</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KKlc0gWuNss/R3aIjV8KW5I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0jcCEqDyUa8/S240/paramedicsdiary_cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KKlc0gWuNss/R3aIjV8KW5I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0jcCEqDyUa8/S240/paramedicsdiary_cover.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This book has been released by one of my favourite bloggers. To read more click &lt;a href="http://theparamedicsdiary.blogspot.com"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also to order the book click &lt;a href="http://mondaybooks.blogspot.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to get it direct from the publishers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy and I hope Xf appreciates the shameless plug :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-1550570140184626905?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/1550570140184626905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=1550570140184626905' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/1550570140184626905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/1550570140184626905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/02/worthy-read.html' title='A worthy read'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KKlc0gWuNss/R3aIjV8KW5I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0jcCEqDyUa8/s72-c/paramedicsdiary_cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-6910927973257763659</id><published>2008-02-11T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T09:46:31.533-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LAS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='urgent assistance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='proactive policing'/><title type='text'>A mild night</title><content type='html'>A steady Sunday night every now and then doesn't go amiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But someone had other plans... I signed my car out and went for a trundle around, not being a response vehicle for the evening meant I would be dealing with any crime reporting and anything urgent I was relatively near, luckily I had a colleague with me to share the writing. The good thing about being a 'panda' is you are not tethered to the radio as much so you can do a bit of proactive policing which makes a nice change, especially as the calls you take generally don't have a time restraint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were following a car along one of the main roads on our patch and my colleague pointed out that the car had a bald tyre so he was pulled over in order to rectify this. On closer inspection the vehicle had four adorable little children in the back seat. I can never understand why parents think this is acceptable - even if they are all going to a birthday party. I asked the father where he thought his children would end up if they had a crash "The front" he said and I pointed out that more than likely they'd end up about 20ft in front of the car having met the windscreen on the way through. He didn't like that but either way the kids had to go with uncle in a cab to continue their evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While my colleague completed the ticket (for the bald tyre - words of advice for the dangerous load) I made sure the child seats were fitted in the back which the father obliged. The kids were becoming restless so I thought I'd entertain them with some road safety advice. I asked them to show me how to fit a seatbelt which they knew and demonstrated. I then told them that whenever they travelled in cars they should use seatbelts even if it's not mum and dad's car. They were about 6 years old and I think the message was well received and I hope they remember it for their own sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The calls kept pinging up on the box and we kept accepting them whilst we went looking for more vehicles to stop. Then I saw a man driving whilst talking on his mobile phone and stopped him. He was ticketed and will be receiving 3 points on his license.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were right on top of a call where a female had had her car window smashed and seen the suspects run off. We got there very quickly and had a good look round for the 3 inerbriates but with no joy so we headed to the address to take the report. Whilst we were there we were offered a seat and also some orange juice. We politely declined but as we went to leave the house we were accosted by the victim's youngest daughter with two glasses of juice. It was a nice gesture and much appreciated. I left wondering why all families couldn't be so pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We cleared up some more calls that seemed to have been outstanding for days before popping in for some chinese take away. I was then tasked to take an appropriate adult home as she had been mucked about by the handover team and just as we dropped her off we were called up and asked to attend a domestic nearby which had been outstanding an hour or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We attended and the mother stated she had been hit by her 14 year old son and she wanted him nicked. So he was arrested and taken to a cell hopefully to learn a valuable lesson. He was a pleasant kid and I hope he's not too far gone to learn a lesson before he just becomes another statistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whilst we were dealing with my arrest we heard LAS put up an urgent assistance and refreshingly the world and his wife put up to accept the call. If I'd have been free I would have been rushing there myself but wasn't available. I wonder if its the same one &lt;a href="http://theparamedicsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/02/under-radar.html"&gt;Xf &lt;/a&gt;refers to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As many police bloggers have said before we are &lt;a href="http://areatracenosearch.blogspot.com/2008/02/kitchen-nightmare.html"&gt;best friends&lt;/a&gt; with the LAS and always a cheery wave or "woop" on the sirens to greet them when our paths cross. We try our best to be prompt to assist them. Last night it was urgent and a number of units from other divisions were even running from wherever they work which was nice to see and I know the LAS appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-6910927973257763659?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/6910927973257763659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=6910927973257763659' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/6910927973257763659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/6910927973257763659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/02/mild-night.html' title='A mild night'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-6342951349446649088</id><published>2008-02-06T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T12:47:54.912-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='off on time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='buses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fraud'/><title type='text'>A whole lot of nothing</title><content type='html'>If you're in the job and reading this you'll know there are periods where nothing seems to happen and you end up scratching around for work. Sometimes you end up with something a bit strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This day was a bit like that. It started off fine - school kicking out time is not always the best time to come on duty - but there was the barrage of "group of 50 school kids fighting - unknown if weapons are involved" and off toddle the double crewed unit to see a lot of school kids hanging around chatting and typing "&lt;a href="http://inspectorgadget.wordpress.com/2008/02/01/banned-phrases-part-i/"&gt;asnt...&lt;/a&gt;" on the box. It can be quite fun though screaming around on blues &amp;amp; twos and not having to lift a pen at the end of it. However someone had other plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another easy job - "can someone assist a revenue inspector ascertaining details of a passenger" easy peasy. On arrival however it turns out this man had used 2 counterfeit travelcards worth £45 each (very well produced on the college computer) to get on the bus. Now we had two options - a) confirm details and let the transport company prosecute or b) nick the bloke for fraud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now many would have chosen option a) and the pen would have remained full of ink. However I saw an opportunity to use the newly implememented fraud act for the first time and chose option b). He was arrested for "possessing articles to commit fraud" and taken to the nick. What followed was quite interesting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Conducted a s18 because we thought we may be able to find computer and printing equipment used for making these cards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Man was then interviewed by the handover team (well I'm not gonna do it am I?) and cautioned by the time I finished the Crime Report and notes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Man got a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;proper&lt;/span&gt; caution from the new guvnor - not a "sign here and say you're sorry" but a right earbashing :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- And my favourite point - from time of arrest to completing all this - 6hrs which also meant I got off on time having topped my figures up :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However it wasn't all good. Turns out you need to check the cooking instructions of a Fray Bento's pie &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;before&lt;/span&gt; you take the lid off - its much easier&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-6342951349446649088?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/6342951349446649088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=6342951349446649088' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/6342951349446649088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/6342951349446649088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/02/whole-lot-of-nothing.html' title='A whole lot of nothing'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-3421038106755010295</id><published>2008-01-02T12:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T13:04:04.457-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alcoholic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wonderful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='booze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><title type='text'>Weird and wondeful</title><content type='html'>I haven't had a lot of time over the festive season to post because I've been racking up the overtime so looking forward to February! I haven't had any days that were worthy of a full post to themselves however so I thought I'd take an assortment of the weird and wonderful calls from the last fortnight or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am absolutely astonished at the lack of respect some offspring have for their parents. Although not a parent myself I have always respected mine (barring a phase in the teens!) and I thought this was normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was called to an address after someone had been seen causing a disturbance - possible break in. Parade tea put down and off into the night in a wash of blue. On arrival the communal door was open, but I could see a bloke sitting quite happily in front of the TV in the front room so I knocked on the door - albeit cautiously. After a lot of banging and "Police - open up please" the door was finally opened. My colleague walked in first and immediately asked for me to call an ambulance. Strange. I looked into the room and could see an elderly female lying on the ground with a fair bit of blood splattered about, on closer inspection it was coming from her nose. The guy who had been watching TV was her son - who quickly resumed his cigarette and whatever programme was on after letting us in. He seemed totally unfazed by his elderly and ill mother lying on the floor in a pool of blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He never explained why he hadn't called an ambulance, I think he just didn't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another call to an address off our patch for a "suicidal" female. We realised on arrival it was in the ominous tower block in front of us. I tested my new drop key - and it worked - up to the flat we went. The operator had said the female sounded drunk on the phone as did the person shouting in the background. As I approached the door I could already smell the stale booze and 'gloved up' before knocking on the door. I was glad I had when the door opened to reveal the most putrid dwelling (inhabited by the living) so far. The carpets were worn down to the underlay, the toilet looked like it hadn't been flushed for years and was stained permanently round the bowl. I could see the bed stacked up with various mouldy bits of magazines and shopping bags - plus the empty bottles of white lightning (3l for £1.50). Oddly there seemed to be half eaten slices of bread all over the flat - but I won't describe the kitchen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The inhabitant told us her mate who was a street dweller who she was friendly with had been getting depressed and mentioned suicide so she called police.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How much have you had to drink?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"only one"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I mean today not in the last ten minutes" (I felt like saying)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I confirmed that ambulance was on way on the radio and they arrived soon afterwards. The street dweller didn't really need any medical or police attention so we waited while she packed her bag and left the flat as she had outstayed her welcome. I then witnessed the most surreal conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Street dweller takes a swig of super strong lager&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Occupant - "Oi that's my drink - you're a ****&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; alcoholic!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SD - "You're a ****&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; alcoholic!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O - "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yeh&lt;/span&gt; but you're a greedy one!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me - "There must be a distinct difference.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O &amp;amp; SD - "Eh?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously a lot of strange stuff goes on in this job, which is one of the interesting parts of it. I will aim to post a full day account when I have one but I am away from work for most of this month. However, I have some older drafts that I may be able to post in the interim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bear with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-3421038106755010295?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/3421038106755010295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=3421038106755010295' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3421038106755010295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3421038106755010295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2008/01/weird-and-wondeful.html' title='Weird and wondeful'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-3174233376978253825</id><published>2007-12-08T13:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T09:24:21.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow day</title><content type='html'>5 calls....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think today had to be the slowest, strangest day at work for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call number one was to an argument between neighbours/ex-lovers (at 8 O'clock in the morning!). One of the many ways that people from my area kick off their days. On arrival we were greeted by a lady who was clearly suffering from some mental health issues - I guessed because she said "Don't even try and get me back in that hospital" after answering the door. She also said she wasn't going to "No police station" as she led us up the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was in the middle of moving, apparently, which is possibly why the house was so messy.  She stated her neighbour thinks he's her boyfriend when he's not and had been making threats. However there was a lot about the story that didn't make sense and she couldn't actually tell us why she'd decided to call 999 at that particular moment in time and got a blue light response in treacherous weather. She was left with some words of advice and a quick visit to do likewise to boyfriend/neighbour/acquaintance who was of a similar calibre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next call was to a disturbance in the street that turned out to be a male detaining someone for stealing his moped. Unfortunately by the time we arrived (very quickly!) he had let go after an angry crowd had formed around him. After an extensive &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;drive-around&lt;/span&gt; looking for the suspect(s) he was advised to attend the local nick to report as he had no details of the registration of the vehicle on him. Strangely he showed us the bike the suspect had left which turned out to be stolen too (result!) and was restored to its owner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After trying to explain the last call to a very confused control room it was in for some tea and some paperwork. Turns out one of the earlier calls (not mentioned) resulted in my crew getting a complaint, that was soon sorted though (and totally unfounded!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last call was to a damage only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;RTA&lt;/span&gt; where one of the drivers had failed to stop. That was until the informant caught up with him and he realised he'd hit her. We were cancelled en route however as we were just round the corner we thought we'd fly the flag. On turning up she had decided the occupants of the other vehicle were a bit strange and she didn't feel comfortable. They'd exchanged details and we waited for her to move off before we left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the station after that and more paperwork. The next shift were on in force quite early on which meant we were relieved half an hour early (which was great!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-3174233376978253825?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/3174233376978253825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=3174233376978253825' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3174233376978253825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/3174233376978253825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2007/12/slow-day.html' title='Slow day'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-8655601274382127075</id><published>2007-12-06T09:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T09:50:10.225-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stinky day</title><content type='html'>11 calls - no arrests&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always hate the twelve hour day shift, a horrible early start and a long drag of a day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First call of the day to assist the council with a "urgent assistance – disturbance heard in background" a cynical glance from my driver but we treated it with blues and twos. On arrival the council worker came out to greet us, he didn't expect us to attend on blues so was quite perplexed. He explained the problem that the venue was a butcher's and he was an environmental health officer trying to report the owner for waste offences. However as soon as he had explained his business the shopkeeper suddenly forgot how he had been speaking English for the last 5 minutes. He showed us the problem, which was a wheelie bin full to the brim with rotting meat, not to mention the blood trickling out onto the pavement from the bottom of it. Of course it was causing the neighbours some rightful concern especially because we could smell it from about 30 yards away. We managed to establish his identity for the council using a number of unofficial passing interpreters and let them get on with their day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On route back to the station for some toast and we were called to a personal attack alarm at a local garage that we were right on top of. These calls are very rarely genuine and this one was no different. I say we were right on top of it but the name of the garage was totally wrong so despite driving through the correct garage's forecourt to turn around we still managed to take 5 minutes to get to it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up – Assist the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LAS&lt;/span&gt; with a "collapse behind locked doors". I dread these calls, the occupant is either dead or you have fun putting a door in only to find the occupant is on holiday or simply not in. It was off our sector but with the division short of units we went anyway. On arrival at the flat (on the fourth floor I might add!) the door was already opened and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;LAS&lt;/span&gt; were on scene. I could see a pair of elderly legs and we were met at the door by the informant who was a neighbour – the sort of neighbour I would like if I ever get old – who said the lady had fallen and banged her head the evening before and been there ever since. I stuck my head in to say hello to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;LAS&lt;/span&gt; and was met by the most putrid smell – the lady hadn't been able to get to the toilet after falling. I quickly stepped out of the flat, grabbing the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;callsign&lt;/span&gt; of the ambulance and leaving the scene. The ambulance had it covered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smelly call number 3 next. Back to our sector to deal with a drug addict in a church "Tourniquet and needle sticking out of foot – &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;LAS&lt;/span&gt; en route". Again, met by the informant who told us the male was actually inside the church – we were expecting to find him in the graveyard or outside. We went in to find a male exactly as the description on the call – sitting with an array of litter and drug paraphernalia around him (the syringe still embedded in his foot – yuk!) I shouted at him to get up, which he did – eventually. We made him pick up all his litter and recap the needle and soon got him out of the church. He hadn't overdosed and was just on a normal hit so we cancelled the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;LAS&lt;/span&gt; they have better things to deal with. A quick name check and he was told in no uncertain terms that a place of prayer was no place to shoot up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment I'm coming to the end of a posting in the 'big car' – this is an colloquial name for the RT or pursuit car on the borough. Every now and then people don't stop for police and the specialist task of this vehicle is to take control of the pursuit as soon as possible as this driver is the highest trained. I have never engaged in a pursuit before and today was my first whiff of one. A colleague had tried to stop a moped and they had sped off, we were nearby and so we were assigned. I grabbed the radio handset which we're supposed to use which transmits to the entire of South London – eek. Unfortunately a garbled commentary from our pursuing colleagues and a far more agile moped managed to get away before we got close enough for a proper chase. I'm sure it will happen again. On the plus side one of his mates was tracked down a little while later and arrested by a colleague because he had a stolen tax disc!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dragged over to another sector then for males causing a disturbance in the communal area of a block of flats. We checked all the communal areas (which were insecure – doesn't help keeping non-tenants out!). The communal area in question stank of human liquid – nice smell no.4. The call required no more than words of advice to the informant – i.e. Get the communal doors fixed and then only residents can get in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Nando's&lt;/span&gt; and a cup of tea next and some routine patrolling in a lull in calls whiled away some of the afternoon. Aiming to get on with some ongoing cases we headed back to the station hoping not to leave it again before home time. Unfortunately it was short lived and an intruder alarm at a police building (not a station just some offices) dragged us out onto the street again screaming up the busy high street dodging pedestrians. Again it was a non-event. I always worry that I get complacent with these calls but I go to an average of 5 a day and not one has been genuine yet. We still had a glimmer of hope of getting off on time but we were in that last hour of suspension before the next shift cover comes on where time stands still. If something comes out now we will be late off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did – abandoned telephone call for police "distressed female crying heard in the background". Off on the blues again and shortly later we were on scene met by a man holding his child. After we established he had called police we entered the house and I spotted his wife lying on the floor wheezing. This struck me as rather odd but it didn't seem to faze our informant. Apparently she always does this and he doesn't know why so my colleague and I decided to lift her up (she was breathing at least!). We sat her up against the wall but she didn't respond to voice or pain. Her eyes were flickering and to me it looked like R.E.M but I thought it may be fitting. I decided to call an ambulance as a precaution and asked the usual – low blood pressure, epilepsy, diabetes. She woke up but it didn't help – she couldn't speak much English. Although we did establish that she hadn't been assaulted so that was fine all we had to do was wait for the ambulance. To be fair they weren't long and were happy for us to go whilst they assessed her in the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the station, handed over to the night duty and we still managed to get off on time – which was a result. We have to make sure all our calls are resulted before we go off duty otherwise we return to work with a snotty email so its good practice to check just before you go off duty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-8655601274382127075?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/8655601274382127075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=8655601274382127075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/8655601274382127075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/8655601274382127075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2007/12/stinky-day.html' title='Stinky day'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-857530481266695647.post-2556553407449979845</id><published>2007-12-02T08:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T09:55:15.195-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My first post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I know there's probably no room for one more police blog on the internet, I myself find it hard to keep up! But I thought I might need to express my creativity at times and I might as well do it here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd do something a little different. I will try and steer clear of any workplace politics and try and resist moaning! I aim to just chronicle my day to day dealings with the public and hope you enjoy the way I convey them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So welcome to my blog and watch this space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/857530481266695647-2556553407449979845?l=samtyler.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/feeds/2556553407449979845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=857530481266695647&amp;postID=2556553407449979845' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/2556553407449979845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/857530481266695647/posts/default/2556553407449979845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samtyler.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-first-post.html' title='My first post'/><author><name>Sam Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08982211506246626292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
