Page 62 - Once a copper 10 03 2020

Thursday 26 June 1980 was a sunny summers day in Ryton-On-Dunsmore.
th
As we stood in class formation, in pristine uniform complete with white dress
gloves I could see my other half and her brother anxiously waiting for the
show to start.

The now familiar band music started and better than ever, whispering words
of encouragement to one another, we marched as one onto the parade
square, as we gave the performance of our lives. The show lasted about half
an hour, with so many officers criss-crossing in figure of eights and other
formations around the drill square, I marvelled at how well Tom Trickett had
gathered this rabble of inexperienced civvies and turned them into a
professional looking marching ensemble.

I can’t recall any mishaps in the show, it seemed flawless to me from my
position within the line. What I do remember is seeing tears running down so
many faces, both of officers as our lines crossed and among the spectators.

Clearly emotions and pride were in equal evidence. All too soon for my liking
it was all over, and we had the chance to briefly meet up with our partners
and families.

On Friday 27 June 1980, my ten-week residential course came to an end.
th
We said fond farewells to our instructors who were already preparing for the
next intake.

One last look around at the cold cell that had been home, wishing luck and
farewells to our officer pals from all around the UK, friends one and all. Some
we would see often, others never again.

We all had one thing in common. We’d come through it together and were
now ready to start out in a wonderful career that, however long we served,
would provide us with a broader perspective on life and humanity that the
majority of folk will never experience.
“Bring it on!” I thought as we drove homeward.

Page62
Figure 32 Course 4/80 Trained and ready for the real thing