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The Dirty Macintosh Police Constable.

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That was me folks when I joined the City of Sheffield Police in 1961. All the kit I was issued with had been used many times going back to before World War 11. The uniform was Winter weight serge, they didn't have a Summer weight one for me and I spent the glorious March of 1962, when town hall girls sun bathed in the Peace Gardens at lunchtime, and I sweltered and sweated. The gaberdine macintosh was so old and clapped out that it had rotted under the armpits, and there were mail bag stitches trying to hold the arms on. I protested , but was told to shut up and wear it.

 

It smelled of the previous occupants and people moved away from me on the 'bus to work.

 

It needed drastic action, which I took one morning when I was on the beat which included Headquarters in Castle Green. I established the time when the Chief Constable, the last of the gentlemen Chief Constables, Eric Staines, arrived at H.Q. and waited outside . As he got out of his limousine, I gave him a perfect salute. He didn't say anything, just touched the peak of his hat with his swagger stick and smiled.

 

Later that morning, I was told to report to the superintendent. He told me to collect a new mac from stores, and asked me if I had been bothering the Chief. I denied it and said that I never said a word to him.

 

The shirts incidentally were tunic shirts with detached collars. I needed 15 1/2, but was given 17 1/2 and told to get my wife to make them smaller. She couldn't sew a button on let alone a job like that so when I went to Training School, my collar took on the appearance of a dray horse collar. At the passing out parade, one of the lads loaned me one of his shirts.

P.C. Plod

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Reminds me of the uniforms I was given when I started my nurse training in 1972 at NGH. Prior to starting we had to give precise measurements that included the usual plus 'nape of neck to waist' and 'waist to knee'.

The 3 dresses I was given were washed out, patched up and none of them fitted. One just touched my ankles and the other two I could have fitted a couple of friends in as well.

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I recall getting my uniform from the stores dept in Castle Green. The tailor was Wilf Weston, and my uniform was far too big. Wilf said "Don't worry lad, it'll fit when you get back from training. Another lad I joined with was a big fellow whose uniform was too tight. Wilf gave him the same advice. He was right, I put on a stone and a half, my uniform then fitted me, my colleague lost loads of weight and his uniform also fit. Wilf knew his stuff.

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I recall getting my uniform from the stores dept in Castle Green. The tailor was Wilf Weston, and my uniform was far too big. Wilf said "Don't worry lad, it'll fit when you get back from training. Another lad I joined with was a big fellow whose uniform was too tight. Wilf gave him the same advice. He was right, I put on a stone and a half, my uniform then fitted me, my colleague lost loads of weight and his uniform also fit. Wilf knew his stuff.

Wilf was a pal of mine,sadly he is long gone.

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Yes, I know Wilf is no longer with us. I joined the Sheffield and Rotherham Police in 1970. I think Wilfs son also joined the job, but I didn't know him personally. Were you on the "job"?

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I remember Wilf, I was a bobby from 1961 to 1977. I was zapped a year earlier and it took me eight years to partially recover, with no thanks to the South Yorkshire Police, members of which caused my family all sorts of problems as punishment for me being a constant rocker of boats.

 

Harry ~Bunker P.C. Plod.

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Yes, I know Wilf is no longer with us. I joined the Sheffield and Rotherham Police in 1970. I think Wilfs son also joined the job, but I didn't know him personally. Were you on the "job"?

No just a near neighbour.Yes his son John did join but he is retired now also.

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I joined SYP as a cadet in 1976 and remember Wilf Weston too. His theory seemed to be if you could get into something it fit you. It didn't matter if it either choked or buried you, it fit and would have to do.

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