Page 35 - Once a copper 10 03 2020

be conducted. A Police Inspector called to see my mom and dad, and
another came to see my wife and I at our flat in Erdington. They asked
questions about how I thought I would adjust to the work and life and why I
wanted to join. The interviews went well because soon after my 20 birthday I
th
received a formal letter saying I had passed the application process and I
was to attend my induction course at Bournville Lane Police Station to start
my life as a Police Officer at 08:30 on Monday 14 April 1980.
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A consequence of joining the ‘job’ as it is colloquially called, is that not
everyone is enamoured with the choice. A lad I had called a friend totally
blanked me when he heard the news. I asked him why and all he could
proffer was “You’re a pig now, you’re dead to me”. When asked who he
would call if he had his car stolen or his girlfriend assaulted, the arrogance
and ignorance of his reply “Not the f***kin coppers” was not the last anti-
police reaction I would experience. I lost no sleep over the loss of his
‘friendship’.

I remember the weeks leading up to my first days as a policeman being filled
with nervous apprehension. I was after all, entering a world that I was totally
unfamiliar with, underpinned by discipline and a sense of order that in
hindsight, I needed, but at the time seemed a frightening prospect.

I sensed my dad was almost as nervous as me, possibly for the reaction he
might face from our extended family and his boozing mates, some of whom
had mislaid their moral compasses.

Before I knew it though, my starting day arrived.

This was it, no turning back now.

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