Life on the Run (5 page)

After the course, it was back to Bulford and life on Salisbury Plain. I think I enjoyed Bulford better than Woking, as it was a small unit and life was pretty laid-back. There was a very good corporal cook there, and the food was always good; especially on a Sunday, when we would have tinned salmon for tea, followed by tinned fruit. This was not part of the normal catering budget but he used to find a way of fiddling the system.

Wherever I was stationed, I did manage to get home pretty frequently, although the trip to Bulford was always a bit of a bind. I used to leave the Windsor Riverside Station as late as I could on a Sunday night, normally about 10.30 p.m., after a quick kiss and cuddle on the platform, and travel to Waterloo, where I would get a train to Salisbury which used to arrive at about 1 a.m.; fortunately a truck used to meet the train to take us back to Bulford, but it did not give much time for sleep that night. The journey to and from Woking was a lot easier, and I used to be back in my room in time to listen to Radio Luxembourg and the popular hit of the day, Eddie Calvert and “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White”.

On another occasion, when I was going home on leave from Bulford, I went to Tisbury, my mother's village in Wiltshire, to collect a new bicycle from her brother's shop in the village; a present for my sister which I had to get back to Windsor. I cycled the eighty-four miles on a girl's cycle and it was not the most comfortable ride, but I did get it home to the Royal Borough in a still new condition.

Although I used to escape a lot of duties, I did get pulled in on a Saturday night to patrol Salisbury and keep order. A truck full of ‘Redcaps' would descend on the city at about 7 p.m., and we would patrol in twos around the city, especially the NAAFI and bus station areas. Sometimes it was quiet but not very often.

One of the largest units in the area was the 3
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Battalion of the Highland Light Infantry, a great bunch until drink took over and then no one or anything was safe. This also applied to their NCOs, particularly one of them, a corporal. He was a man who was as broad as he was tall, about five feet five inches, and a fearsome sight in his kilt. When he had a couple of drinks he was all for discipline and order, and if any of his ‘mob' got out of hand, he was the first to pick them up and throw them into the back of the truck; something he could do without help. BUT if he had more than a few drinks he became very protective of his lads, and would fight with them against us ‘Redcaps'. Then it would take almost our entire squad on duty to restrain and deal with him. Fortunately more times than not he was on the side of law and order.

One Saturday night there was a lot of fighting in the bus station, and I saw one of the Jocks kick someone in the face while he was on the ground. It made a great indentation and I rather unwisely saw red in more ways than one, and although alone I waded in to try and stop the violence. I tackled one of the offenders and threw a punch at him; I did not hit him that hard but I was wearing leather gloves and I slightly cut his face. Once his mates saw blood they were after me, about a dozen or more of them, and they surrounded me and got me up against a wall in the bus station. I thought that was it until a local civilian policeman with his Alsatian dog came to my rescue, and with some other help they got me into the police station opposite, and I stayed there for my own protection until all the HLI had left town.

I enjoyed my time at Bulford, even these sometimes violent duties which were a contrast and break from running long distances over Salisbury Plain every afternoon, which was helping my fitness level improve rapidly.

On one Saturday night we had no trouble in Salisbury, mainly because there was some of the thickest fog I have ever seen. We had to take our usual trip into the city in case of trouble, but it really was a real “peasouper”. It was so thick, the only way our driver could guide the truck was by me and others walking in front with torches, from the camp to the city centre. It really was impossible to go faster than walking pace, and even then vehicles were all over the place, going off the road and going in the opposite direction to what they intended. Even the HLI could not find their way into Salisbury that night, so we had a quiet night and don't really know why we bothered to struggle into Salisbury.

Apart from the signals course at Woking, I spent my other time there as a waiter in the Officers' Mess. Plenty of time to train, and good food, and just like Bulford I had my own room, but it was not as pleasant for running, except that it gave me the chance to travel to some track meetings for my own club and for Guildford and Godalming AC that I joined second claim while at Woking.

While at Woking, I went off to run one evening in a club match at Ealing on a very hard five laps to the mile track. After the race I had to get back to barracks, and I remember getting back to Woking and hardly able to walk. Getting from the bus to barracks was a real struggle, as I had a terrific pain in my left foot. I reported on sick parade next morning and got sent off to the Cambridge Military Hospital at Aldershot for an X-ray. They discovered a march fracture; a splintering of the bones behind the toes. The MO wanted to put it in plaster for six weeks, but I had the unit championships in only a few days plus other races, so I persuaded him just to put a pad under the damaged area and some heavy strapping. He virtually told me that it was up to me, but if I was mad enough to run he would not be responsible for what it might do. I did run two days later and won the three miles almost on one leg. The time was very slow, around seventeen minutes, but I was streets ahead of the field anyway, and won by over a lap. Because I had insisted on not being plastered, I did suffer for much longer than I should, and in fact felt pain for some years.

Like many of the runners of my generation, I think the two years in the forces did help to shape our athletic careers. I am sure the training I was able to do in my two years in uniform, helped me prepare for my successes in the following few years. I suppose it was easy to see why the Soviet Union and other Warsaw Pact countries used the military for most of their top athletes in this pre-professional era.

In January 1956, I finished second in the Berkshire Senior and went to the Inter Counties where I came 126
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. Then came a series of good results. I won the Salisbury Plain and District Championship, which I followed up with a win for Salisbury AC, and then the Berkshire Junior Championship. I had seven races in February; it was good job it was leap year with that extra day. I won the Southern Command, and then took second place in the Army Championships behind Basil Heatley. In between, I finished third in the Southern Counties Junior and won another Army race on 29
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February.

March was a quieter month, and there were two major races; the National Junior where I was ninth, and the Inter Services where I was eleventh.

In April 1956, I had run the Maidenhead ten mile for the first time. The race winner was Jack Heywood (Herne Hill Harriers) and an almost permanent student at Reading University. His time was 53:05, and Mike Barrett (Ealing) was second in 53:44, just in front of me in the third spot with 53:51. I won the Army three mile title and other races during that summer.

At the end of April, after I had won a six mile invitation race at the White City in 29:48, I started training on the track, which meant running to Tidworth or running on a local grass track at Bulford. My first track session of the year was about nine miles in total, and started with running two 880 yards in 2:7.5 and 2:8, with 440 yards recovery, followed by two 440 yards in 59 and 56.8 seconds, and then 6 × 220 yards, run in between 26 and 28 seconds, and finishing off with 2 × 100 yards in about 10.5 seconds. I took a 220 yard jog between every fast run after the 880 yards. A word of explanation about my sprint times; they were always taken from a flying start. This pattern of training, progressively getting faster in a training session, was to be my main training for the rest of my running career, and helped me to develop a fast finish.

In May I had quite a few club races; some for Salisbury and others for Windsor. These included a 2:05 880 yards, several miles in around 4:30, and a 440 yards in 54.5. I ran for Berkshire in the Inter County Championships at the White City, and finished sixth in 14:0.8. Wins in the Berkshire Championships followed; the one mile in 4:18.4 and the three miles in 14:27.2. My next run was not so good, I ran in the Southern six miles and could only finish sixth in 29:59, but within four days I was back to my best. Winning a three mile race for the Army against Hampshire in 14:14.8.

Most of my training was on the track at this time, and typical sessions could include up to 28 × 220 yards, with the same recovery and all run in under 30 seconds. Other sessions would include up to 14 × 440 yards, but these were normally as part of a longer session where I would run other distances as well. Another typical day at this time would be 6 × 3/4 mile, with a two lap jog between each 3/4, and finishing with 6 × 220 yards.

Other races in June included finishing sixth in the Southern Counties three mile in 13:59 (first time under 14 minutes), the Army three mile title in 14:10.2, run on a very heavy track at Aldershot, and a 3,000 metre invitation, on the same track one day later, in 8:33.

July was a very busy month, both before and after finishing my National Service in the second week. I ran for the AAAs against Kent in a two mile race; 4
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in 9:17.6. I was ninth in my first AAA senior championship three miles at the White City, where I ran 14:02. All together I had over twelve races in that month, plus an unusual event. Just before I left the Army I was sent to Aldershot for the Army Modern Pentathlon Championship; the event I had declined to enter. Not to take part, but to run the 4,000 metre course and set the standard that the competitors had to match to score maximum points. I was not open to bribery, so I ran as fast as I could and set 13:01 as the standard over the cross-country circuit.

I had a busy July and I was back at Inkerman Barracks, Woking, for my demob from the Royal Military Police. I had a total of around fifteen races during that month, both before and after leaving the Army. Apart from the Inter Services Championships, where I finished third in the three miles in 14:19.4, most of these runs were in club matches.

While in the Army my running had progressed rapidly. I set a world best for the three miles for a junior under nineteen years of 14:19 in 1955, and in April 1956, I set a world best by six seconds for an under nineteen-year-old of 29:48.3. I was only eighth and it was my first six mile race, but I did have some good names behind me, including Chris Brasher who later that year won the Olympic steeplechase. The Kenyans have probably got fifty or maybe hundreds of young runners running faster than these times today. I had been the Army Three Mile Champion, but had not managed to win the cross-country because that was held by Basil Heatley, the man who was to win an Olympic silver medal at the marathon in 1964.

Chapter Five: On the Beat

I left the Army in July 1956 and applied to rejoin the Berkshire Constabulary. I had to report to my old police station at Windsor to see if I measured up to their requirements. I had no problem education wise, but the inspector who was checking me out, started to take my measurements. Everything was all right until it came to my chest measurement. He put the tape around my skinny frame and it was barely thirty-four inches; quite a bit below the required thirty-eight inches. Luckily the superintendent came in to see how things were going; the inspector conveyed the disaster of my chest measurement to him. The ‘Super' then asked the inspector to measure me again, and he put his hand behind my back and twisted the tape to take up a few inches, and I was in the police. The only problem was that every year when I got my new uniform, it was like a sack and always had to be tailored to fit. In these early days we had two different uniforms; one was the now familiar open-neck collared tunic with lapels, and the other was a relic from the previous century, the buttoned-up to the neck tunic.

Shortly after my interview at Windsor, I was at the Police Training College at Sandgate, in Kent. There was a slight panic when some of the ex-servicemen on my course were called back to the forces for the Suez crisis. I was under threat of being called back for a few days, but they did not require my running, signalling or shooting skills, so I was able to settle into the course. Surprisingly for someone who had never been very good at exams, I had top marks all the way through the course; all over ninety per cent; much to the annoyance of my class mates who studied every evening, while I ran along the seafront between Sandgate and Hythe. I enjoyed the time at Sandgate and got plenty of training.

Other memories of Sandgate were not so good. The chief constable who took the salute at our passing out parade, went to prison shortly afterwards for corruption, and not long after that there was a scandal around the commandant of the training centre. It was a time when the practises of the past had got out of hand and were being jumped on.

I managed to keep up with regular racing and was getting more invitations. Somehow I managed to get away from Sandgate to take part in quite a few of these events. I won a two mile race at one of my favourite events, the Agars Plough meeting at Slough, in 9:10.8, and then two days later I was at the White City in an invitation 3,000 metres, where I managed fifth in 8:28.6. I went back to the White City again for the Fire Brigade Sports, where I ran the 3,000 metres in 8:32. I had plenty of club races to take me up to November, when I finished fifth in the five mile race at Rochester in 25:53.

Once that was over, it was into work as a police constable on the beat at Wokingham. I lived in digs and got home to Windsor as often as I could. It was a very uneventful year of policing, apart from racing home on my cycle one lunch time, and not watching the traffic in front of me in the main shopping street of the town. I hit a car that had stopped and went clean over the top, with my helmet flying off in another direction. The populous of Wokingham were amused and I was suitably embarrassed but not damaged.

On another occasion, I set off the Broadmoor alarm early one Sunday morning and had everyone in a panic for miles around.

There was, for a few weeks, some trouble on Saturday nights at the Drill Hall in Wokingham, where gangs of teddy boys from Slough and Maidenhead used to congregate, but it did not last long as our ‘governor' believed in treating force with force, and after a few Saturday nights of “pressure” from us in blue, they decided Wokingham was not the place to be. Today it would be called “zero tolerance” - nothing much has changed over forty-plus years!

It was on the beat at Wokingham that I first came across real poverty. It was in an unexpected place, in cottages between the very good Rose Inn on the Market Place in the centre of the town and the local bowls club, a short distance behind it. I had to make enquiries at one of these cottages, and I never forgot the scene that greeted me. A place with hardly any furniture and very young children on the bare floors eating crusts of dried bread, taken from the floor, which they had also used as their toilet over a period of time. I did report it and something was done to help those poor children. I just hope they eventually grew up into a better life.

Night duty in Wokingham was very interesting, as the town had some strange acoustics. If I was in the town centre sitting on my dustbin behind the town hall, a favourite resting place for me when on night duty, I could hear men speaking to each other quite clearly at the Explorator Fish Depot, over half a mile away.

I had a very good police superintendent at Wokingham, and he and all the staff there were very helpful to me as I progressed my running. After I won my first Police Athletic Association Cross-Country Championship, they presented me with a special certificate, that had been designed and painted by a patient at Broadmoor, and a pair of red Adidas running spikes. I never did know who the special painted certificate was by, but I was told he was a mass murderer. I still have and treasure that special presentation.

The CND marches from Aldermaston were taking place during my time in the police. They were at Easter weekends and normally passed through our territory on Good Friday. I was on escort duty with the march on a few occasions, and enjoyed my walk with them, even though I was in uniform and on the ‘other' side. It was always good natured and trouble free.

My police duties were mixed and various. In February 1958, I was working for a short while with CID at Wokingham, and used to run the seven miles from my home in Reading to work and back again. The fourteen miles a day was a good way to keep up my training while working for six days a week. It was while on CID duty at Wokingham, when I heard the devastating news about the Munich air crash of the Manchester United Busby Babes.

During my time both at Woodley and Wokingham, I did have to deal with quite a few sudden deaths of one sort or another, and was ‘Coroner's Officer' on a number of cases. This required my attendance at postmortems, which I never had any difficulty with. In fact I was fascinated by the work of pathologists and often used to act as assistant to them. The difficult part of this work was dealing with relatives, especially when one was the first bearer of the bad news about the death of a relative or loved one.

Other more mundane duties could be the Christmas turkey patrols. Keeping an eye on anywhere that turkeys were being raised for the Christmas trade. This also included a watch on growing Christmas trees, and on the sports clubs who had a bar, to make sure no one broke in for some easy booze. We also did a lot of farm inspections and supervision.

Throughout the year there could be other observation duties, which included spending all night under hedges in front gardens trying to catch a persistent burglar, whose wife later worked for me as a secretary, and laying in wait close to a pigsty trying to catch ‘criminals' stealing pig food. I wonder if even a country bobby today would get caught up in this small type of crime.

Police work was never without unusual and funny instances. When people went on holiday, they asked for their house to go on the unattended house list, so that the patrolling officers could look in during the night and make sure the property was secure with no unwanted visitors. Customers used to tell us when they were going and when they were due to return, but they were not very good at informing us if they returned from holiday a day or two early. On more than one occasion I checked a house and found a door unlocked. Quietly and gently I would creep into the house, truncheon at the ready, through the ground floor, and then finding no one, I would climb the stairs to the bedrooms. Then I would hear a noise and burst into a room with torch blazing, only to find a couple in bed. A shock for them and for me, but after a quick explanation about their early return, I would leave them to it.

There was another activity I could come across at night when patrolling down country lanes or off the main roads. A car or van with steamed up windows and may be with a little rocking motion. It was naturally my duty to shine my torch and make sure there was no illegal activity taking place. Frequently one of the two people in any car was the same young lady who had a rather appropriate but unfortunate name (she had the same surname as Sir Vivian, the British explorer and geologist).

Another annual duty took me to Oxford for November 5
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celebrations. There were always celebrations at the famous Randolph Hotel, and huge numbers of students used to gather for some rather riotous fun there, so extra police were drafted in to protect the property and keep the peace. The university proctors were always in attendance, and they dealt with most problems.

At this time, Oxfordshire, Berkshire and Reading Borough were three completely separate police forces, and this led to some interesting activities on the county and borough boundaries. Between Woodley and Reading, we used to persuade vagrants and other undesirables to seek refuge in the county town, and between the two county police forces, that met at Sonning-on-Thames, it was not unknown for a body in the river to be persuaded to float across to the other side.

In my early days in the police at Wokingham, and later at Woodley, the local constabulary were inundated with gifts at Christmas time. These ranged from turkeys to cases of beer, wines, spirits and other goodies. Various methods were used to share these out, and towards the end it was normally by holding a draw and everyone received something. Towards the end of my service, the clampdown started on these ‘gifts'. There had been a couple of high-profile cases of senior officers, including that chief constable, being found guilty of bribery and corruption, and everything was tightened up and gifts of any kind were not encouraged. At the modest local level I never thought it did any harm, and it helped to keep a good relationship between local business and the police. It was like another perk of the job, that I benefited from on a number of occasions with the full approval of my bosses. If there was an accident, especially at night, and we called out a certain garage to collect a wrecked car, there was always a fiver in it for the reporting officer. At that time this represented about two days' income from the ‘job'.