Returning to work after our marriage and while searching through my waiting tray a piece of correspondence reminded me that I must submit a report to HQ with reference to my change of circumstances. Fact and date of my recent marriage, Ruth’s full name and any other relevant details. At North Watford Police Station written messages for the Traffic Division were received by the Station Reserve PC, who brought them to us, although some officers failed to do so. Six weeks after our marriage there was, in fact, a rather urgent message for me which I didn’t receive until late in the day, “Police Sgt 471 Thorne to report to the Chief Constable’s office at 9.00 hours the following day.” What had I done wrong now? Could it be a long awaited promotion? I had long since given up any chance of that, especially as I had had various visits to see the Chief about motorway matters. Sitting down at my evening meal, talk was about my impending visit to see the Chief, whatever it was for I still had to make sure my uniform was presentable, trousers pressed, medals clean. That took up most of the remaining part of the evening. The following morning, instead of travelling to North Watford I went direct to HQ at Welwyn Garden City. On arrival, I made my way up what was known as the Golden Staircase and in doing so I passed photographs of myself and PS Smith displayed on the wall depicting our arrest of Harry Roberts. These photographs were among the “greats” of the Hertfordshire Police since inception.
After reporting to the Sergeant on arrival it became clear my visit was not for a reprimand but promotion. Waiting outside the office of the “great man” I thought how much Maria would like to have known about my visit after all her efforts. Remembering what it had been like when promoted to Sergeant, once again I was shown to a chair where I waited as before, as the Chief Constable was still reading the newspapers – he had to keep up with events. He walked over to me and asked, “Do you think you can jump over the crash barrier as fast as you used to?” After my reply, as on the previous occasion he said, “I have a vacancy for an Inspector, I don’t know where you would be going but do you accept?” Do I accept! Going into the General Office the Sergeant told me of my posting to Hemel Hempstead, but then touched on the subject of the delay in my promotion, did I know that my promotion should have been about five years earlier but it was thought that my life had been fully occupied and stressful with my late wife’s illness, so as soon as they thought my life had settled, promotion was given to me. Before leaving HQ a visit to the Clothing Store was necessary. Although I had seen Inspector’s uniforms enough times it had not registered how many items were different; shoes, shirts, ties, gloves, cap, plus pips on the shoulders. When first wearing them it made me feel quite proud, thinking back to the class of twenty four in the village school at Bierton, and leaving at thirteen and a half years of age, I had done as well as any of them, in fact, better than many who had gone on to the Grammar School.
Back At Hemel Hempstead.
So once again the starting of a new rank was to be at Hemel Hempstead, I dressed in the morning watched by Ruth. No longer was it appropriate for me to ride the motorcycle, my own car was a little more fitting for the rank. I knew many of the Sergeants and Constables at the Station either because I had given them Training talks or worked with them before. My first arrival caused a little embarrassment. While alighting from my car a young Constable saw me and quickly saluted my rank so, of course, it was necessary for me to return my first salute. This procedure is similar to that in the Armed Forces where lower ranks salute the Queen’s Commission.
At times when only one Inspector was on duty he could find himself in charge of a Police Division with up to fifty men and a couple of towns like Hemel Hempstead and Berkhamsted, with Tring and Kings Langley included. I soon got used to being responsible for any incidents from fights to serious accidents and murders. Slowly one realised that matters dealt with alone before, were now the responsibility of others and one had to delegate, mostly passing things on to the Sergeants who I had always deemed to be the most important rank in any force.
Training And More Training.
Soon after starting back at Hemel Hempstead instructions came for me to attend a Course at Chelmsford, Essex, for newly promoted Inspectors. Our Instructors generally outlined what tasks we would be expected to deal with, in fact, we were taught to cope with anything the two higher ranks usually undertook. At that time prosecutions were decided and undertaken by the Police who submitted cases to court, and were in charge of the Court, not like now when the Crown Prosecution Service undertakes all decisions and prosecutions against defendants. To give us a foresight of what was expected a mock court was set up for us to take part in imaginary cases. Other subjects covered by the Instructors were representing Police at Council Meetings, exercises covering major incidents, Royal Escorts, and acting as negotiators at armed sieges. Numerous talks were given by Home Office officials, one of whom praised us for achieving a position in Society which was within the top twenty per cent of the population. Major incidents were set out in a similar way as Court procedures but more like war games where models were used covering aircraft and train crashes. As regards to major incidents I was able to give a lecture with models re major Motorway crashes, I was then one of only a few who had dealt with such things.
On my return to Hemel Hempstead I had hardly settled back into a normal routine when off they sent me again, this time on a scale plan drawer’s course. The reason for this was so that I would be able to produce scale plans at Coroners and other Courts. All these plans had to be certified to scale in Court by the person drawing them. This Course tested me with regards to my knowledge of mathematics, but I could always draw reasonably well.
Another Family Loss.
It was a year to the day, of Maria’s death 13th November 1971 that at the age of 87 my father died, suddenly, after a heart attack. On that sad occasion Ruth gave us much assistance and arranged things in her usual efficient manner.
Buying Our First Home.
For about twenty years my family and I had lived in Police Authority houses repaired and decorated by them. Conditions of Service restricted Police Personnel from residing in their own property, so, if one desired to purchase and live in such property it would only be considered when the appropriate number of years had been served. By the time of my promotion, I was in the enviable position of having served long enough to qualify. With both Ruth and I earning we were in a position to consider a house purchase, in addition Police personal were allowed a reasonable rent allowance that assisted us greatly. After discussing the matter at some length we decided to look for likely property and St. Albans appeared to be the most central place for our work. After a few weeks a semi-detached dwelling was found at Windridge Close, St. Albans, on the Watford side of the City very convenient for us to travel to our respective jobs. Such property was not of the best construction, the inner walls made of hard board, the floors concrete. Central heating was gas hot air, very convenient and economical, but not the best for keeping ones feet warm, especially during the winter. However, it was a start, also for young John attending a nearby school where he was able to have a midday meal. We went ahead and purchased the property for £8000.00 just as property prices were on the increase. A third of the cost was supplied by the Police Mutual Insurance Society. Although the semi-detached was big enough for normal use for a family of four, the occupants were diminishing. Irene had already flown the nest having married and was living in Tring and Noreen had nearly completed her Teacher Training Course in London, therefore only needed a bed when on holiday. At about the same time Tony, having completed his education at St. Albans College went to London to see if the streets were paved with gold! At various times his means of transport were firstly a motorcycle, then a rebuilt Mini car.
A Foreign Holiday And Another Disaster.
After moving to St. Albans and having settled in reasonably well, we decided to have a holiday abroad, during the summer of 1973. This was to be the first time that I had been away with both Ruth and young John. My car had been changed to a Peugeot 305, quite suitable for conveying three of us and our luggage. Little did I know that that car was to have a short life.
Soon into our holiday we were both getting used to driving on the right hand side of the road and Ruth was becoming a good navigator, except on one occasion when she almost took us to Italy instead of Switzerland! However, the error was soon rectified with her guiding us through a cross country short cut. We had a good holiday in Yugoslavia, but our luck was not to hold, after leaving that country via its northern border into Austria we took the road to Innsbruck through the picturesque mountains and valleys on each side.
After passing the sign for Lienz and travelling about fifty miles per hour in a stream of well spaced out traffic a German driver in a French car pulled out of the oncoming line. As it sped towards us I just about had time to swerve and attempt to brake. Never having been in a high speed collision before it was a ghastly experience, the nearest I can relate it to was when I got blown up in Holland. The sight of steam from the engine and radiator, the hissing of released heat and water, the sudden difference in air pressure plus the tinkling of particles of glass felt like the end of the world. My brain gradually started to clear after the impact of my head on something, but I couldn’t see properly, my eyes were stinging and it took some minutes to realise that the interior of the car was full of choking dust and fumes. Thankfully that soon disappeared due to most, if not all of the windows and the windscreen disintegrating. All of my limbs seemed to be in working order, but blood from my head was running into my eyes making it difficult to see.
However, Ruth was not where she should have been, the rear of her seat had broken off allowing her to be catapulted backwards and she was lying flat on the front and rear seat covered in blood. It was some minutes before I realised she was really fighting for breath, the blood from a broken nose was choking her, in fact, unbeknown to me then her neck was broken and the reason that she could not move her head. It was essential that blood should be cleared from her mouth and throat, nobody had come to assist so it was down to me. Thank goodness I could remember a bit of first aid from my Army and Police training. Due to being fully occupied it had never entered my mind where young John was. He was, in fact, in the foot well behind my driver’s seat that had also broken off backwards. On lifting the seat back off him, he gradually uncurled himself, badly concussed, with a number of cuts and bruises. I instructed him to stay as he was while I assisted Ruth. About twenty five yards away there were a number of Austrian workers sitting outside a small factory, none of them moved to assist until I shouted to them in my halted German. To move Ruth at that stage would have been very dangerous, so I kept her mouth free of blood until the ambulances arrived, one to deal with us, the other for the occupants of the second car who were in a worse state than we were. After the ambulances and smashed vehicles had been moved from the scene I remained behind where I took enough details to ensure that enough evidence was available to prove an inevitable claim. The next day I returned to ensure ample details had been recorded. How thankful I was of these details at a later date – five years in fact!
In Hospital.
We all ended up in Lienz hospital in a small ward to ourselves. Ruth was in the operating theatre for four hours. When she emerged her body was encased from her lower waist to her chin, it also covered the back of her head and ears. Little did I realise that she would be in that cast for four months. I was a member of the International Police Association and it didn’t take long for them to inform my own Force. On about the third day of hospitalisation a telephone message was received from Assistant Chief Constable Paybody, who had obviously worked out what he wanted to know. He told me to answer yes or no to a list of questions he had already decided on. The last question made sure I would be provided with transport on my return journey to England. I had a visit from an Austrian Police Inspector who required details from us all, including a statement from me. He was also a member of the International Police Association. The Lienz Hospital put me up for four days but then I was offered accommodation with an Austrian Police Inspector with whom I stayed for a fortnight, while I visited Ruth daily at my convenience. If was obvious she was in for a fairly long stay, so I had to make arrangements to travel home by train with young John.
Many articles and equipment were still in the wreck of my car and to enable me to get them home it was necessary for me to purchase two very large suitcases. My poor 305, a write off, had to remain at the recovery garage with my precious antique two gallon petrol can. The day I left Lienz was rather stressful, Ruth was still seriously ill and the situation was such that I didn’t know when we would see each other again. She had been a good pal at Hunsdon, but since then a very good partner and certainly someone that could be relied upon.
Travelling Home Without Ruth.
My train journey with John across Austria, Germany and France seemed endless. Although the accident had occurred just over two weeks before, I was still showing the remains of a black eye. A German woman passenger had been watching me for some time until curiosity got the better of her, she came over to me and said in broken English that I must have a good strong Frau, indicating my eye. She then asked where my Frau was, on receiving the reply that she was in Krankenhaus (Hospital) the whole carriage laughed, but showed great concern on realising, the facts.
Arriving at Dover I telephoned Hertfordshire Police HQ as instructed earlier by the, ACC, on reaching Victoria Station we were welcomed by an old chum of mine PC Bane [PC Wally Bane Ed], the ACC’s driver who drove us and our luggage home to Windridge Close, St Albans. Lying in bed alone that night it took me a long time to fall asleep, before I did my thoughts were far and wide. Was history repeating itself? Poor Maria had been in a road accident receiving serious injuries, then cancer followed some years later. What outlook had Ruth got? She still had to recover. I managed to keep in touch with her a couple of times a week by telephone. We were lucky as the private room she was in allowed us that facility, so we could at least talk to each other direct.
Ruth Comes Home.
Six weeks slowly went by and near the end of that period Ruth was able to tell me arrangements had been made for her to be flown from Munich to Luton. That was where I met her, my first sight of her shook me, she was huddled up in a wheelchair, at first glance I hardly recognised her, she had aged ten years, streaks of grey hair were hanging down the side of her face and some teeth were missing. With great difficulty and some help we managed to get her into the car and then home to Windridge Close.
It was not until we had been home for a few hours did I realise how restricted she was, although being able to climb the stairs on her knees; going to bed was almost impossible, she had to be lowered on to the bed but there was no lying down, the plaster cast prevented her from doing so, therefore her night’s sleep was obtained by sitting up. Three months after being put into the cast the personnel at St. Albans City Hospital were kind enough to remove the lower part of the cast so that she was free from her lower ribs, leaving the back, neck and shoulders still encased. Although still very much restricted she thought it was marvellous being able to lay down to sleep which made a world of difference. Numerous visits to St. Albans Hospital continued, these included repairs to her teeth and fitting false ones to fill the gaps.
During the last months off work a vacancy for a Nursing Officer at Watford was advertised, to keep in touch with work and for something to do Ruth applied. Still in a plaster cast I conveyed her to Watford for an interview. While still off work she received notification of her successful interview, at least then she thought her restricted period of time had not been wasted. So not long after becoming house owners and after our disastrous holiday Ruth was moved to Watford on promotion to Nursing Officer, she had soon levelled with my rank, hers being equivalent to Chief Inspector in the Police and her responsibilities covered the whole of the Watford District.
Sorting Out The Aftermath.
For five years my claim for compensation covering our accident in Austria went on and on, the cost of a new car, the hospital bill in Austria, and all other expenses for Ruth still remained unpaid. On the advice of the Police Federation representative the claims were being handled by a local solicitor. As time went on it became obvious that he was hopeless, when confronted after four years his excuse was that he had lost the file. I knew that the claim against a German Insurance Company covering an accident in Austria with an English claimant would take a long time with everything having to be translated but, even four years was too long. In desperation the problem was discussed with my Traffic Superintendent who put me in contact with the Chief Constable’s solicitor. He received no co-operation with my original solicitor who he had to sue in a London Court for the return of the case papers. My new solicitor completed the whole claim within a year, what a difference it makes to have someone at the top of the tree dealing with the matter.
Life Moves On.
At the time of our accident, Noreen, who had qualified as a teacher, took up a position in a Dunstable Middle School. Nothing much changed during the next couple of years except that I was transferred back to North Watford Traffic duties. The base had grown somewhat as new Motorways were being constructed in the County, including parts of the M25 London ring road. Extra motorways meant more Police crews to patrol them and they had to be taught. This created more work for me teaching, not only crews for Hertfordshire, but also some of the other adjoining Counties as well.
Visiting South Africa.
By now my children were fairly well settled and life for Ruth and I seemed to be on an even keel. Ruth having recovered from her injuries it was decided to visit her homeland. Ruth was really a South African by birth being born in Cape Town where her father had been stationed at the British Naval Base at Simonstown. He married Ruth’s mother who was a resident of that country so Ruth’s roots were there. It was natural that she wished to return at some time to see her many relatives. We kept our eyes open for adverts in the weekend papers and it was not long before we saw fairly cheap seats by Swiss Airways. We preferred to visit during the winter as over Christmas was their midsummer. We planned it so that we would be away for a month. Leaving St Albans for London Airport the weather deteriorated, it started snowing and by the time we were ready to take off the runways were covered with fairly deep snow. The pilot started twice to get to the runway but each time we were delayed by half an hour. Then at last we succeeded, heading towards Zurich where we were due to change flights. On landing there we could see that they had had more snow than in England, the Airport being completely covered but a hive of activity, obviously they were used to dealing with large quantities of snow better that we were. They had the equipment to deal with it too. As our connecting flight was not due for three hours the company provided us all with a three course dinner, drinks included. Our main flight was by Boeing 707 Jumbo, it made a stop at Nairobi, then Johannesburg where we caught another airline connection to Cape Town. This time the aircraft was a new Airbus. Preparing to land the heat struck us as we lost height and landed. We were met by a tribe, and I mean a tribe, Ruth’s Mother was one of nine, so you can imagine how large the family was.
We stayed with Val, Ruth’s cousin, in her flat. On arrival we were shown a calendar that indicated which relatives were entertaining us, when and where, plus the means of transport. Val had got a little scooter, plus a VW Beetle. On free days I drove the VW to wherever we planned to visit and as driving was on the same side as in England there was no difficulty there. South Africa is the most beautiful country I’ve seen, with long, clean, sandy beaches that we made use of on many occasions. Ruth surprised me as to how well she could swim, I’d seen her swimming in England and Switzerland but it was nothing for her to swim across a bay and when I checked it on the map they were anything between two and three miles across and she completed the return journey. On our tours we visited ostrich farms, salt mines, wild life parks and, if my memory is correct, the Milan theatre in Cape Town, the interior of that being most beautifully carved in dark, hard woods. At Christmas the white British immigrants throw huge parties and every British visitor is invited whether known to their hosts or not. Guests were continually asked about places where, they the hosts used to live, they still looked upon England as their real home. Temperatures were very high during our stay, especially inland, the hottest day we spent at a peach farm run by a relative of Val’s. Most of that visit was spent lying in a river under shady trees to keep cool. We were kept entertained by a number of prisoners picking peaches. It was usual there for farmers to hire prisoners to pick the crops. We saw these prisoners arrive in a coach with two armed guards, they worked all day, in temperatures in the sun of between 90° and 100° degrees, for this the prison authorities were paid and the proceeds went towards the prisoner’s keep. They must have been satisfied with their lot because the farmers had more than enough volunteers.
Of course, while visiting Cape Town we travelled to and went up Table Mountain, I drove up part of the way in the VW where we had a barbecue at one of the many places specially built for that purpose. At that point we overlooked the large Bay where Robin Island is situated, this was no doubt where Nelson Mandela was in prison. I am sure if I had visited that country earlier in my life it would have enticed me to remain there. I’ve never enjoyed a holiday so much as in South Africa, we didn’t very much want to pack up and return to a snow covered England. Although the country was very hot the marvellous breeze, known as the Cape Doctor, always kept conditions bearable. I still hope to have a chance of visiting that beautiful country again one day.
Returning to England we landed at Heathrow, as we circled and lost height we could see the fields and streets below were still covered in snow as it had been when we left a month earlier, the only improvement, was that it had at least stopped snowing. The return journey was the last to Windridge Close as during the long journeys out and back we had plenty of time to discuss our housing conditions and agreed not to spend another winter there.
Back At Work And Traffic Management Again.
I had not returned to work long before I was transferred back to Traffic Management but was expected to assist in Traffic duties when the necessity arose. Christmas Eve that year was to be a rather hair raising one, I was to work the 2 to 10 p.m. shift covering the worst time over the holiday. I had worked this shift many times over the last twenty five years, never had I been lucky enough to finish on time, this Christmas was no exception. To cope with the extra incidents that were inevitable, more crews worked that late shift, it was a shift that none of them liked very much as the likelihood of some, if not all, having to work overtime into the next morning was on the cards. Thus making it a short holiday and less time with their children. The Motorway crews had already commenced Patrol, they worked shifts which gave an hour’s cover while the other crews were changing over and attending the briefing parade taken by a Sergeant. I did not usually attend these parades but as there were extra crews and the day was a bit special I observed from the background. On such occasions for about four hours crews position themselves in strategic positions so they could attend any assignment quickly. The golden rule was the quicker an obstruction could be moved from the carriageway or be passed the likelihood of another accident occurring was cut to a minimum.
Another Road Death.
The parade was not completed before a telephone message was received from the information room HQ which requested a car to attend Harpenden A6 road where a young boy on a cycle had been injured. By this time a motorway car was already attending a tailback of traffic near the A4O5 Waterdell Junction, the name of that junction was named after Waterdell House, the premises owned and occupied by my uncle Bernard. On top of the tower is a clock that had become a well-known landmark, especially to Motorway crews. As the Sergeant was already occupied for sometime after the parade I decided to wend my way to the various incidents that had occurred. Choosing myself a car I made my way towards Waterdell where the Motorway car crew was already in the process of piling up luggage on the grass verge. The various articles had been attached to a roof rack that was no longer secured to its original roof, the driver was no doubt miles away oblivious as to where his best suit was. He would also be unlikely to know that it and the other contents of the suitcase had caused a five vehicle pile up behind him. Luckily these vehicles had only been damaged, some to the front and rear, therefore the car crews were able to clear the carriageway on their first arrival. Satisfied that incident was being dealt with properly, control was asked by radio the up to date condition of the boy cyclist injured at Harpenden, back came the reply, “Likely to prove” – that meant the lad hadn’t got much of a chance of survival. In these cases, an Inspector or above, always had to attend, therefore I headed for the A6 at Harpenden without being told. The crew of Tango 5 was still at the scene so I gave them any assistance and guidance required. Briefly the cyclist failed to see or give way at a T junction as he turned left and collided with a lorry travelling along the main road towards Harpenden. The layout of the road contributed a little towards a disastrous impact. The minor road joining the main road on a quarter bend, a further contributory factor was from an over railway bridge to the cyclist’s right. The crew and I had not left the scene before our radios blurted out, “Tango 5, message from hospital, cyclist’s injuries proved fatal.” Somehow the boy’s parents had been informed. They were at St. Albans’ Hospital so their staff had already saved us from the distressing task of having to tell the parents that their son had died.
Yet Another One.
Unbeknown to me while at the hospital radio control had been calling to give me further information of another accident, on the A5 road at Markyate. The trip to that village was easy and direct, straight north where I saw Tango 6 and crew on the forecourt of a new hotel. Both were in cars writing down statements being given by witnesses and the driver of the car concerned. Sitting in each car in turn it was not long before I was fairly well acquainted with all the facts. The A5 at the junction with the hotel was straight but only a two lane unrestricted road, the private junction had nothing to do with the accident, but a high hedge opposite the hotel reduced the little remaining daylight, although the lighting up time was just about the time that the accident occurred. The ambulance had left the scene conveying the only injured person, a pedestrian, to St. Albans City Hospital. This pedestrian, dressed in dark clothing had attempted to cross the road from west to east between moving vehicles travelling south at a fair speed. There were suggestions that the pedestrian was staggering across the road at the time he was struck. Another visit to St. Albans Hospital was necessary, on calling at their enquiry office we received news that the casualty was dead and in the mortuary. On entering the cold building we saw our man was already on the slab still dressed in his dirty dark clothing. At some hospitals it was expected that Police should undress the deceased and take possession of the clothing, then hand the property over to relatives. Searching through the wet clothing his pockets revealed what we were looking for, his name and address was on an employment card. While near the body we also got the answer as to the main cause of the accident, a very strong smell of alcohol from the body and clothing. That was death No1 down to the festive season, luckily this man had been a loner and very few relatives or friends were acquainted with him.
More Mayhem.
By about 6 p.m. traffic accidents were happening thick and fast, a number were serious enough to warrant my attendance but all my crews at that time were very experienced, none of them having less than ten years Police service and had dealt with at least two fatal accidents. As soon as the radios had quietened a little I took the opportunity to take an early refreshment break back at base. Barely had the tea been brewing long enough to pour out when the telephone rang again, operations room requested to speak to the Duty Inspector. As soon as they said that I knew that meant something fairly special. Two vehicles had collided head on, at the Watford by-pass near the junction of the M1 Berry Grove, that location being in C or Watford Division. The Motorway at that time ended at that junction. Just northwest of the junction there were two wrecked cars surrounded by Ambulance crews and Policemen, together with breakdown crews, plus numerous other drivers who had left their cars, either to help or just as observers! The inevitable line of stationary vehicles stretched back from the scene for great distances in both directions, it was difficult for me to park my car and not add to the confusion. Suddenly before being able to ascertain from the Police crew an up to date situation report a Fire Engine arrived slowly trying to negotiate its way towards the two wrecked cars. I took the opportunity to follow it and was then able to establish that the male driver of one car was trapped in the mangled and twisted heap of metal. An Ambulance man was in the wreckage trying to render first aid the best he could in the minute space available to him. Fire crews were soon operating their equipment to cut, bend, push and pull the obstructing metal that used to be seats, bulkhead and steering wheel of a car.
While this was going on I ascertained that the occupants of the second wreck had been released and taken to Watford Peace Memorial Hospital. Every time that Hospital is named I cannot help but remember the long time that Maria was detained there. On seeing the mangled driver released, loaded into the Ambulance and conveyed away, I thought it was most likely to be the third fatal of the evening. Fire crews, were as usual, most efficient and soon moved the wrecks off the carriageway, releasing the frustrated traffic queues. The drivers by now being somewhat subdued after seeing the trapped and injured occupants. After listening to witnesses, and taking into consideration the damage, position and types of vehicles involved, it appeared most likely that the severely injured driver had been overtaking in face of oncoming traffic on a two way road. Later testing of blood indicated a very high level of alcohol.
Cattle On The Loose – Again!
I left my crew who appeared to be handling the situation well and were about to attend Watford Hospital to obtain relevant details of all those injured. A crew were attending a damage only accident where allegations had been made that the driver was under the influence of drink and needed breathalysing, but before I could attend another message came over the radio of cattle straying onto the Motorway. The possible results of this could have been more serious than the breathalyser so I attended that assignment. My thoughts went straight back to a previous occasion at Watford when cattle strayed, this time it could be more exciting. Christmas Eve on the Motorway playing cowboys in the dark! About two miles north of the Hemel Hempstead junction I came across a Police motor car on the hard shoulder that at first appeared to have been abandoned. Up the bank, the boundary fence had a gaping hole in it, three posts and the appropriate number of wooden rails were scattered about in the field. While looking in the field, a couple of white lights could be seen flashing about some four or five hundred yards from the Motorway, nearing the lights, voices were heard trying to entice the car occupant from the vehicle but without any success. Arriving at a sports car I saw the female driver was petrified, she was not about to alight from her protective buggy for anyone. Excitedly she, after great difficulty, told us her story. Apparently she braked hard to avoid a slowing vehicle, resulting in her losing control, being projected up the bank like a missile and through the fence. On passing into the field she saw numerous pieces of wood flying through the air, these flying objects suddenly changed to dozens of charging bullocks of varying colours. Not like the pieces of wood that flew away from her, the bullocks came towards her with huge heads, bulging eyes and steaming nostrils which she thought was smoke. To try and give her confidence we searched the field where about two dozen steers were calmly grazing a full field’s length away from her. Although the car was badly damaged at the front it was still driveable, so until she slid over to the passenger side I was unable to get my large bulk behind the steering wheel, and drive back over the uneven field, through the original gap in the, fence to the hard shoulder where her vehicle remained until a breakdown truck recovered it. While in the field we radioed and obtained assistance from another Police car who searched the Motorway for any missing four legged beasts but none were traced. Somehow the cattle that caused the problem had either returned through the open gap as all good strays should, or, they never got out in the first place. Sometimes messages do get taken wrongly or maybe the lady simply imagined that she had seen cattle.
It Wasn’t Over Yet!
How time flies when one is busy, 8 p.m. it’s time for me to make a second attempt at having my tea, this time half an hour was managed before the dreaded telephone was playing a tune again. “Yes, this is the Traffic Duty Inspector.” Tango 6 is attending a 10/2 (Code for injury accident) on the North Orbital road near Ayletts Garden Nursery, pedestrian and driver injured, please attend. Here we go again! This one seems unusual, the location is near a mental hospital a well known spot where at times, inmates have committed suicide after running across the fields and jumping in front of fast moving vehicles. It didn’t take me long to arrive at the scene where the most unusual accident I’ve ever seen had taken place. Towards Hatfield the dual carriageway rises up then passes under an over bridge as it curves right. After passing beneath the bridge, a wooden fence divides the dual carriageway. To cut down night time glare from approaching vehicles bushes had been allowed to grow and by then were well established. A saloon car was still in position in the central reservation facing towards Hatfield, the pedestrian had already been conveyed to St. Albans Hospital. My crew had coned off both east and westbound lanes allowing single lane traffic to flow freely, an Ambulance and Fire Engine were in attendance, their crews surrounding the damaged car. On reaching the vehicle one could see well inside it as floodlighting had already been placed in position. Still sitting in the driver’s seat, but unconscious was a young male, being held in position by a plank of wooden fencing approximately six inches by one and a half inch that had passed right through his body, through the chest and out of his back. The wood had gone through and smashed the windscreen, part of it was still over the bonnet and the other end jammed into the rear seat. It was the job of the fire brigade to extricate the severely injured driver, this they completed very professionally by cutting the wood about four inches from his chest and back with an electric saw, he was then quickly conveyed to the Hospital with the length of wood still in his body. This accident was caused by a patient from the mental hospital jumping into the carriageway in front of the car whose driver swerved and in doing so impaled himself and car on the fence.
It was now after 11 p.m. time for all late turn men to be heading for home and sleep. However, four crews, eight men, found it necessary to work another two to four hours, drafting messages out for the Chief Constable, to the Chief Superintendent of the Division where the accident occurred to enable relatives and next of kin to be informed. Requests for vehicles to be examined by our qualified vehicle examiner to obtain evidence for inquest and for the taking of statements from witnesses residing in other Police Districts.
Having To Deliver The Worst News.
By the time I had read all outward messages, it was 2.30 a.m. Christmas morning, I prepared to travel home and bed. It wasn’t to be. That damn phone rang again from HQ It appeared that for some reason the relatives of the driver of the Watford by-pass accident had not been informed of his death. There was nothing I could do but perform the distasteful job myself on my way home, so I headed for Hemel Hempstead. When delivering such distressing messages, one liked to call at some of the neighbour’s first then call at the home concerned with someone they knew. By then it was 3 a.m. in the morning and most residents were asleep, but obviously these relatives were still waiting up for their father and husband as numerous house lights were still on. The bell was rung, the door slowly opened and a very frightened face peered through the gap, seeing me in uniform caused any colour she might have had to drain from her face. Asking if she would let me in I slowly walked inside, the look of anxiety suggested she almost knew what was coming. Two children were crouched on the settee, they had obviously been crying and were as anxious as their mother. With all of us then standing in the room and me with a large lump in my throat I had got to take the plunge. Looking at the woman she was just told, “Your husband has been involved in an accident, he has been killed.” It took a little time for the fact to sink in but not so long for the children. They dropped on to their hands and knees, beating the floor then pulling at my trouser legs and the sobbing continued endlessly. As the reaction set in, the mother put her arms around my neck, and uncontrollably wept. The scene with four people standing in the centre of the room, three ceaselessly crying and me almost in tears as well was a scene„ usually encountered in films. My thoughts were somewhat desperate after such a long stressful day, how could I get out of there? It was impossible to leave them as they were, as so often happens a cup of tea got this Policeman out of trouble once again. I told her I would make some so she then followed me into the kitchen and got the contents and the equipment ready. We had hardly started to drink when we heard a knock on the door, opening it my prayers were answered, a neighbour had heard me pull up earlier and realised my stay had been a long one. As soon as she had entered the main room and took up conversation with the bereaved and her children a quick exit was made by me.
It had been a cold night and by the time the sheets and blankets were pulled over me I’d been continuously on duty for seventeen hectic hours, another one Her Majesty wouldn’t know about. Although my body was ready for sleep my brain was not, over and over my actions taken at each incident were gone through, had I missed any vital details? Eventually a few fitful hours of sleep were granted to me.
The following day (Christmas Day) a well earned day off, I just managed to show myself and have a Christmas dinner with Ruth and the family. Boxing Day soon came round so back to the grindstone. Most of that day was spent sorting things out and making sure all statements had been taken or sent away for. Sorting things at the scenes of fatals takes long enough but the reports, or sometimes parts of them if not complete had to be typed and sent to HM Coroner without delay. The Coroner is usually a qualified Doctor or Solicitor. Reports about such things have to be accurate because relatives who make claims later could depend on details taken at the time.
Another House Move.
One Monday in Spring when the airwaves seemed quite quiet and the weather good I decided to take a Police motorcycle for a spin and have a look at some traffic management schemes that I’d submitted some one or two years before. This took me to Hemel Hempstead, St. Albans Road, in the area of Leverstock Green, after looking at the road improvements I decided to cut through the side roads to Bedmond Road. To do so I rode along Tile Kiln Lane and St. Michaels Avenue into St. Anthonys Avenue, a road I couldn’t remember seeing before. On rounding the sharp right hand bend a “For Sale” board confronted me, the property to which it related, No 5, was a detached bungalow in good condition. Stopping my motorcycle I remained sitting astride while I scrutinised the construction fully expecting that someone would come out, but no, it was from No 7, that an elderly man emerged. We struck up a conversation and it was not long before all the details of the property were known to me plus its occupants. The “For Sale” board had only been erected that morning.
That evening I just couldn’t wait until Ruth arrived home, after telling my news while consuming a quick meal we soon set out for St. Anthonys Avenue, on seeing the place and surrounding area we agreed we should proceed with the enquiry so we could have a closer inspection. Ruth and I soon looked over the property and made up our minds to purchase. The mortgage still outstanding on Windridge Close was extended by the Police Mutual Insurance Company, a non-profit making Society. Estate agents dealing with it were asking £23,800.00 I offered £23,000.0 and gave them the chance of selling my house for £16,500.00 People were looking for property at that time so I was very satisfied.
Not long after moving into No 5 Ruth’s father became ill, this necessitated a few journeys to Bishops Stortford, where after a short illness he died, leaving her mother, Constance, on her own. Her son, Richard and his wife resided in a bungalow next door on a plot of land given to them by their parents, but it wasn’t long before we became aware that mum Hutchins was not very happy. In addition she was an invalid who had difficulty in moving about. As we now had plenty of space in our new home the downstairs front room was made into a comfortable bed-sit where she could be alone if she wished. My mother-in-law was a very sweet person who never caused any friction, always willing to help if she could.
While living at St. Albans I had bought and erected a good sized greenhouse that was used to the full as the garden was not very big. After moving to St. Anthonys Avenue the task of dismantling it and transporting was easily overcome by hiring a van, Tony assisted me in loading and unloading the fragile sections. Erecting it was easy with the assistance of Michael, Noreen’s boyfriend, who was also a teacher in a Dunstable school. While he held the greenhouse sections in place I screwed them together. Michael then took the opportunity to ask for my daughter’s hand in marriage. One up for Michael. Most of our family had now flown the nest, Tony in London and Irene in Tring, that left John with us who was attending the nearby Bennetts End School. With our new home my spare time was taken up improving it, interior and exterior decorating kept me busy throughout most of the year. In between improvements were made, additional paths were built plus a patio and wall. The property was made more secure by erecting 6 foot inch gates and replacing the rickety garage doors.
For another three years life passed fairly quickly compared to the previous life, Ruth was promoted to Senior Nursing Officer at Watford, we both then had jobs with quite a bit of responsibility. My experience in accident investigation had become well known and I was called upon to deal with them all over the County. When commencing duty I never quite knew what was to confront me, in addition armed escorts, plus emergency armed hold-ups were on the increase, so to keep myself efficient I paid regular visits to the rifle ranges for practice; indoors at HQ, outdoors at Royston. My standard with weapons was always good, both in the Army and Police, when visiting ranges to make things more interesting a raffle was held both at mornings and afternoon sessions, I considered myself very unlucky if I didn’t win at least once during the day.
A New Year Brings More Of The Same.
1977 seemed to start gently enough but the usual spate of accidents occurred on the M1 in the fog. The injury accidents, however, appeared to be less in number, this could have been due to road improvements. A central crash barrier was being erected, the hard shoulder improved and columns of street lights illuminated the worst dangers, many of the missing gaps of lights columns were gradually filled. Although still enjoying my job very much I started to look forward to retirement as jumping over the crash barrier and running for one’s life was getting a bit monotonous.
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