Armed Police E-Book

Michael J. Waldren

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2007

Beschreibung

On 7 July 2005, just before 9 am, explosive devices detonated on London Underground trains at Liverpool Street, Edgware Road and Kings Cross stations and on a double-decker bus in Tavistock Square. Fifty-six people were killed and over 700 injured. Suicide bombing had come to Britain. Two weeks later, the capital's commuters narrowly missed disaster when four more devices failed to explode. Security in London was increased to unprecedented levels as Metropolitan Police Commissioner, Sir Ian Blair said his force faced 'its largest operational challenge since the war'. Heavily armed police officers patrolling the streets became a regular feature of television news programmes, leaving an enduring impression that unarmed policing in Britain had gone forever and with it the kindly image of the archetypal British bobby. Controversy rages over the increased use of firearms because in the public mind, the hallmark of British security has always been unarmed policing. Now, for the first time, former Head of the Metropolitan Police Firearms Unit, Mike Waldren, gives his insider account of the changes in Britain's policing, spanning over half a century and including many examples of extraordinary heroism, tragedy, controversy, comedy, intrigue and occasional farce.

Leseprobe

ARMED POLICE

ARMED POLICE

THE POLICE USE OF FIREARMS SINCE 1945

MICHAEL J. WALDREN

First published in 2007

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2013

All rights reserved

© Michael J. Waldren, 2007, 2013

The right of Michael J. Waldren to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7524 9618 4

Original typesetting by The History Press

CONTENTS

List of Plates

Foreword by Professor P.A.J. Waddington

Preface

Acknowledgements

Abbreviations

1.

The Good Old Days

2.

A Firearms Training Wing

3.

Teething Problems

4.

Crime and Terrorism

5.

Sieges

6.

Teamwork

7.

Victory and Disaster

8.

New Rules and a Convention

9.

A More Sensible Cartridge

10.

Unauthorised and Unorthodox

11.

More Working Parties

12.

Indecision

13.

To Encourage the Others

14.

The Dividing Line

15.

Into a New Century

Notes

Select Bibliography and Further Reading

LISTOF PLATES

Metropolitan officers, c. 1913.

Metropolitan officer, c. 1921.

Officers with Webley revolvers, c. 1932.

‘Sense of direction’ shooting in 1957.

Training with the armoured shield in 1977.

The ‘violent man’ cage is tested on Bob Wells.

The author and Ian Chadburn find the inspector in Blackstock Road, 1978.

Hostage rescue training in 1985.

Prisoner reception training in 1985.

The ‘realistic mock-up street’ at Lippitts Hill in 1986.

The ‘streets’ at the Metropolitan Police firearms and public order training centre in 2004.

A cameraman records abseil training in 1993.

Two examples of specialist team training in 1999.

Officers rehearse boarding a ship in 1999.

Hostage rescue training in 2004.

FOREWORD

This book begins with the Blue Lamp image of an unarmed ‘P.C. George Dixon’ confronting an armed violent thug, and terminates in the context of mass casualty terrorism on the streets of contemporary London. In between it narrates the evolution of the specialists in armed policing in the capital. Where London ventured, other police forces throughout Britain followed.

This is controversial terrain and we see in this account how nervous were senior officers at the prospect and realities of arming their officers. What may appear with hindsight to have been extraordinary timidity had its origins in the very creation of the Metropolitan Police in 1829. Insofar as policing existed before Sir Robert Peel created the Metropolitan Police it was invariably armed: the famous Bow Street Runners carried weapons and so too did others. Insisting that his ‘New Police’ would venture onto the streets unarmed was a conscious decision by Peel to break with the past and was expressly designed to generate respect for this new force. The historic antipathy of the British to a standing army had aroused suspicion about the very idea of a professional police force, leading several previous attempts to introduce a professional police force to founder. By attiring his ‘New Police’ in non-military dress (blue rather than red was their colour) and equipping them only with a truncheon, Peel intended that they should give an impression of vulnerability, rather than the formidability that was characteristic of Continental Napoleonic policing.

Peel’s formula proved a great success and was widely emulated, especially in the English-speaking world, but almost nowhere else was policing unarmed as it was in Britain. Increasingly the unarmed British bobby took on iconic significance: a distinctively British institution that demonstrated the remarkably settled character of British society. It contributed to the sense of superiority enjoyed by successive generations of the British.

It was always a manufactured myth: police had access to weaponry and if all else failed (as it occasionally did) there was recourse to the military. But it was a myth that served the police well, engendering the respect and even affection of the public, and generations of senior officers sought to preserve it. Yet, in the second half of the twentieth century society changed. Crime increased markedly and with it came the threat of armed criminality and later the scourge of terrorism, at first domestic and more recently international. This is the story of how the Metropolitan Police struggled to come to terms with this changing reality while attempting to retain the myth of the unarmed ‘bobby’.

The story is told with affection, occasional humour, sometimes with grief, but always with commitment. This is truly an ‘insider’s’ account. A career spent very largely at the forefront of specialist armed policing has given Mike Waldren unparalleled knowledge and insight into how ‘the Unit’ evolved. It goes beyond the dusty memos and minutes of sometimes subterranean official decision-making to reveal the voices of those who served. Very few could have elicited so much from so many. It is testimony to the enormous respect and affection in which Mike Waldren is held by those who served with him that they have given so freely of their memories.

Professor P.A.J. Waddington August 2006

PREFACE

On 7 July 2005 at just before 9 o’clock in the morning, explosive devices detonated on London Underground trains at Liverpool Street, Edgware Road and Kings Cross stations and on a double-deck bus in Tavistock Square. Fifty-six people were killed and over 700 injured. Suicide bombing had come to Britain for the first time. Two weeks later London was again thrown into chaos when attempts were made to set off another four explosions – three on the Underground and one on a bus – although this time the devices failed to detonate.

The Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, Sir Ian Blair, said his force faced ‘its largest operational challenge since the war’ and security in London was stepped up to an unprecedented level. The sight of heavily armed police officers on the streets became a regular feature of television news programmes, leaving an enduring impression that the face of policing in Britain had changed for ever – a far cry from the kindly image of Dixon of Dock Green and the notion of the unarmed British bobby.

The growth in the police carrying of arms since the Second World War has been controversial – unarmed policing is the hallmark of the British police tradition. Some commentators have described it as a drift towards paramilitary policing that has now crossed the line between the respective roles of the police and the army. To others it represents nothing more sinister than the end of ‘the amateur phase of policing’, but both views are over-simplistic. To begin with, to most people after the war the concept of being an amateur with a firearm would have had no meaning – you either knew how to use one or you didn’t. Many people in Britain had been taught how to use a gun during the war years but most of them would have had little or no shooting practice, particularly those on the Home Front, police officers included. Initially this was due to the scarcity of ammunition but gradually a collective opinion evolved that you could be considered proficient with a firearm without ever actually firing one. Although incredibly naive from today’s perspective, this belief remained conventional wisdom for many years after the conflict had ended and the myth still persists that, until fairly recently, the police in Britain did not even have firearms. This is because, for what were considered to be perfectly sound reasons at the time, the carefully crafted postwar image of the police was one of a benign unarmed service that could cope quite adequately without them.

There is no doubt that today’s police service is vastly different from the one found in postwar Britain, with the most visible change being that of officers now openly carrying firearms. This is the previously untold insider account of that change.

The story spans more than half a century and includes examples of extraordinary heroism, tragedy, controversy, comedy, intrigue and occasional farce. Each police force in Britain has its own story to tell, but at the forefront of developments has been the section of the Metropolitan Police known variously over the years as D6, D11, PT17, SO19 and now CO19. Initially created out of the need for postwar contingency planning in the event of another war, this branch has evolved into a world-famous operational and training unit in the front line of the fight against armed crime and terrorism.

Mike Waldren July 2006

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Extracts from Crime in London by Gilbert Kelland, first published by Bodley Head, are reprinted by permission of The Random House Group Ltd; from McNee’s Law by permission of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd © Sir David McNee 1983; from Dr Iain West’s Casebook by permission of Little, Brown Book Group and Mr John Pawsey; from The Blue Lamp by Canal+Image UK Ltd; and from Police Review by permission of Jane’s Information Group – Jane’s Police Review. Unfortunately, the original contractual information required for formal permission to include extracts from Scotland Yard by Sir Harold Scott, first published by Andre Deutsch in 1954, and from In the Office of Constable by Sir Robert Mark, first published by William Collins Sons in 1978, cannot now be traced.

I am particularly grateful to Arthur Batten, Kris Freeland, Bob Wells, Jim White, Alex Moir, Ian Chadburn, Bert Harris, Ron Parrish, Colin Bulley, Mick Weight, Ron Jarrett, John Nunn, Peter McDonald, John Warner, Pete Sidebotham, Dave Tilley, Tony Gray, Dave Chambers, Tony Long, Bryan Galley, Peter Harris, Terry Webster, Clive Rawlings, Pete Bradley, Jonathan Ferrari, Dwight Atkinson, Bill Rowlinson, Sandra Perry, Doug McConnachie, Roger Gray, Norman Mackenzie, Stan Conley, Colin Burrows and a few others who have asked not to be named, whose willingness to share their experiences has made this account possible.

The critique of the early drafts of this book by P.A.J. Waddington, Professor of Social Policy at the Policy Research Institute, University of Wolverhampton, has been invaluable. Last, but by no means least, my thanks go to my wife Sue for her encouragement and support.

ABBREVIATIONS

ACA

Assistant Commissioner ‘A’ department

ACB

Assistant Commissioner ‘B’ department

ACC

Assistant Commissioner ‘C’ department

ACC

Assistant Chief Constable

ACD

Assistant Commissioner ‘D’ department

ACPO

Association of Chief Police Officers (Commander rank and above)

ACPO JSC

ACPO Joint Standing Committee on the Police Use of Firearms

ACPT

Assistant Commissioner Personnel and Training department

ACSO

Assistant Commissioner Specialist Operations department

ACTO

Assistant Commissioner Territorial Operations department

AFO

Authorised Firearms Officer

ARV

Armed Response Vehicle

CID

Criminal Investigation department

COBRA

Cabinet Office Briefing Room

CPS

Crown Prosecution Service

DAC

Deputy Assistant Commissioner

DACA (ops)

Deputy Assistant Commissioner ‘A’ department (operations)

DC

Detective Constable

DCI

Detective Chief Inspector

DCS

Detective Chief Superintendent

DI

Detective Inspector

DPG

Diplomatic Protection Group

DS

Detective Sergeant

HMIC

Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Constabulary

IPCC

Independent Police Complaints Commission

JSP

jacketed soft-point (bullet)

MoD

Ministry of Defence

MPA

Metropolitan Police Authority

NWGFI

National Working Group of Firearms Instructors

PC

Police Constable

PCA

Police Complaints Authority

PERME

Propellant and Explosives Research and Monitoring Establishment

PIRA

Provisional Irish Republican Army

PSD

Property Services department

PSDB

Police Scientific Development Branch (Home Office)

PSNI

Police Service of Northern Ireland

RIB

rigid inflatable boat

RSAF

Royal Small Arms Factory

RUC

Royal Ulster Constabulary

SAS

Special Air Service

SB

Special Branch

SBS

Special Boat Service

SFO

Specialist Firearms Officer

SOE

Special Operations Executive

SPG

Special Patrol Group

SRDB

Scientific Research and Development Branch (Home Office)

TSG

Territorial Support Group

UKU

UK Police Unit (Cyprus)

Chapter 1

THE GOOD OLD DAYS

THE BLUE LAMP

In 1949 Ealing Studios in England made a film based on the London Metropolitan Police. In the opening scenes a police car drove out of what used to be Paddington Green police station’s yard and began the high-speed chase of a sports car. When this vehicle eventually crashed the driver attempted to escape on foot and before unarmed officers could overpower him, he shot a bystander who tried to stop him.

The next scenes were of newspaper headlines such as ‘Murder in the street’ and ‘Father of six children is killed by gunman’, while a voice-over told the audience that: ‘To this man, until today, the crime wave was nothing but a newspaper headline. What stands between the ordinary public and this outbreak of crime? What protection has the man in the street against this armed threat to his life and property? At the Old Bailey, Mr Justice Finnemore in passing sentence for a crime of robbery with violence gave this plain answer: “This is perhaps another illustration of the disaster caused by insufficient numbers of police. I have no doubt that one of the best preventives of crime is the regular uniform police officer on the beat.”’

The audience was then introduced to ‘veterans like George Dixon, with twenty-five years’ service, now Police Constable 693 attached to Paddington Green’. The film was called The Blue Lamp and starred Jack Warner as Dixon and Jimmy Hanley as a new recruit. Dirk Bogarde played the criminal who shot and killed the hapless Dixon in order to escape after being caught in the act of robbing a cinema box office. Dixon, again played by Jack Warner, was brought back to life in 1955 for a television series. There were over 350 episodes of Dixon of Dock Green, and even today the character provides the quintessential classic image of the traditional British bobby who is prepared to accept the price that may have to be paid for policing unarmed.

For Sir Harold Scott, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police 1945–53, the film was a triumph. In his book, Scotland Yard, first published in 1954, he wrote:

We cooperated with Ealing Studios in making The Blue Lamp, which gave a faithful picture of the policeman’s life and work in the form of an exciting crime story, much of the detail of which was taken from actual happenings in recent crimes. This film has been shown all over the world and has been a valuable means of spreading a knowledge of the efficiency and high traditions of the Metropolitan Police.1

The reason for the cooperation had a great deal to do with Scott’s efforts to resolve two problems – a desperate shortage of manpower and a rising crime rate. His force had been reduced from 19,500 regular officers and 25,000 full-time auxiliaries in the early days of the war to some 12,000 officers and fewer than 2,000 auxiliaries by the end of 1945. He needed more officers and to get them he had to persuade the general public and the Home Office that more constables patrolling the beat were a worthwhile investment that could stem the rise in crime. However, he played down stories of criminals with guns, saying: ‘The number of armed robberies [per annum] . . . since the war has varied between ten and forty-six, and although great publicity has been given to this subject in the last year or two, the figures for 1950, 1951 and 1952 – nineteen, ten and nineteen respectively – are in no way abnormal.’2 The rise to forty-six had come in 1947.

Scott was anxious not to give the impression that his officers wanted to carry firearms:

[Well-publicised cases] lead to a suggestion that the police should be armed. The police themselves do not wish it, believing that if they were there would be an increased tendency for the criminal to be armed also and to shoot on sight. In eight years, only two Metropolitan policemen have been shot dead and four or five wounded by firearms. . . . We train our policemen in unarmed combat, and this is almost invariably successful in disarming an armed opponent without injury to themselves.3

The two Metropolitan policemen shot dead, and for whom the ‘unarmed combat’ had evidently proved ineffective, were Constable Nathaniel Edgar in 1948 and Constable Sidney Miles in 1952.

Police firearms were not mentioned at all in The Blue Lamp, probably by design, and anyone seeing the film could be forgiven for believing that the Metropolitan force did not have any, particularly after watching the arrest of Dirk Bogarde’s character at the end. Unarmed officers, all with a look of grim determination, overcame their armed and dangerous adversary by sheer weight of numbers. Even Dixon of Dock Green would not include an episode showing a police officer being issued with a gun until 1974, by which time, as will be seen, the cat was already out of the bag.

THE REALITY

Despite the image created by the film, the Metropolitan Police did have firearms and Sir Harold Scott was not being entirely candid in his book. According to an internal memorandum issued in 1938, pistols had been ‘held on charge for very many years. In addition to [protection duties] it happens quite often that police have to act as escort to bullion, when they are armed. Also from time to time officers have information that some criminal for arrest has arms and they quite rightly, therefore, arm themselves before going to arrest him.’4

The force had been formed in September 1829 and records show it bought fifty pairs of flintlock pocket pistols in December the same year.5 By 1868 a supply of revolvers was kept at police stations throughout London, but after two officers were shot and killed in the early 1880s there were calls for the police to be armed. In London’s outer divisions, 4,430 out of 6,325 officers voted in favour but the Commissioner decided instead that officers ‘who desire to have them when employed on night duty’ could carry a firearm as long as they could be ‘trusted to use them with discretion’.6 Essex Constabulary was probably just one of several other forces to make identical provision within a year or so.7 Full arming was avoided, but it had been close.

At the turn of the century it would have been common to see Metropolitan Police officers openly carrying firearms, supplied by the Admiralty, while guarding various navy dockyards, a practice that would continue until 1925. In 1936 the regulations were changed, making it a requirement that a constable had to give a ‘satisfactory reason’ before a firearm could be issued.8 It would be 1985 before female officers could carry a firearm on the same basis as their male counterparts.

During the Second World War the force had some 25,000 revolvers and pistols and 3,600 rifles. Most of these were supplied by the War Office, seized from London gun dealers or surrendered by their private owners, and they were mainly used for the protection of buildings and vulnerable points thought likely to attract the attention of saboteurs. At the end of the war most of these weapons were returned to the sources from whence they had come.

Arrangements to be put in force in the event of another war were agreed on 30 July 1948 at a special meeting of the Central Conference of Chief Constables, Police War Duties Committee, held at the Home Office in London. The War Office agreed to keep 4,000 rifles and 8,000 revolvers for the police and to store them at fourteen anti-aircraft ordnance depots around Britain. The chief constable with a depot in his area would then, on receipt of the code words ‘Polwin Section Two Scat Homeffen Collect’, arrange for their distribution to the surrounding forces.

By 1952 the arrangements were complete and the depot holding the weapons for the Metropolitan Police, and for the forces of Berkshire, Hampshire, Kent, Surrey, Sussex West, Sussex East, Brighton, Eastbourne, Hastings, Portsmouth, Reading and the City of London, was located in Mill Hill in north-west London. Thirty-four per cent of the weapons for all British police forces were kept there, 25 tons of them, and the Home Office asked the Commissioner what arrangements he intended to make for their dispersal. The Deputy Commissioner, Sir John Nott-Bower (Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police 1953–8), wrote back on 23 May to say that he was ‘not at all happy about the proposed arrangements’. Collection and distribution would be a major undertaking. However, he was eventually persuaded and the superintendent in charge of the Metropolitan Police training school at Hendon, 2 miles from the depot, was given the job of working out how the weapons would be sent to those who needed them. Splendid though the eventual plan undoubtedly was, it was never tested, and in 1956 it was discovered that the War Office had moved the guns without letting police forces know. All that remained at Mill Hill was rifle ammunition – the rifles and revolvers were in Essex.

This did not mean that the Metropolitan Police had been left with no firearms of its own. Officers were still permanently armed for protection duties and over 1,000 Webley and Scott .32 calibre self-loading pistols had been on general issue and available in all the force’s stations since 1911. However, The Blue Lamp certainly presented ‘a faithful picture of the policeman’s life and work’ by not showing any of the officers at Paddington Green training with weapons. Because of wartime ammunition shortages, training had been stopped in 1939 and, other than for a few officers employed on protection, it does not seem to have occurred to Sir Harold Scott that there was any need to restart it.

In May 1953 the condition of some of the pistols was described as being ‘wretched’ and seventy second-hand Beretta pistols in 9mm (.380) calibre were purchased in 1955 for use in central London. Webley and Scott Mark IV revolvers in .380 calibre replaced the Webley and Scott pistols in 1956, and the Beretta pistols were then replaced by new Walther Model PP 9mm (.380) self-loading pistols in 1960.

At the time the film was made the Metropolitan Police covered an area of 700 square miles with a population of about 7 million people. It was divided up into four districts, each under a commander, and subdivided into twenty-three divisions, each under a chief superintendent. The divisions, identified by a letter of the alphabet, were split into three or four sub-divisions each under a superintendent, and most of these were again divided up into as many as five sectional stations. Scotland Yard housed the Commissioner’s office and was the headquarters of departments ‘A’ (operations and administration), ‘B’ (traffic), ‘C’ (crime) and ‘D’ (training). A separate force, the City of London police, covered the ‘Square Mile’ of the financial district at the city’s heart.

INSTRUCTIONS

In March 1955 Sir John Nott-Bower, now Commissioner, decided that it was time to update the force instructions.9 The circumstances under which an officer could use a firearm, the equivalent of ‘rules of engagement’ in the armed forces, were given as being: ‘In case of absolute necessity, e.g. if he or the person he is protecting is attacked by a person with a firearm or other deadly weapon and he cannot reasonably protect himself or give protection when he (as well as a private person) may resort to a firearm as a means of defence.’

Weapons could be ‘issued only to officers who have been properly instructed in their use’, although a liberal interpretation would be placed on the term ‘properly instructed’. Former army experience was considered adequate, as Constable, later Sergeant, Ron Jarrett found out:

I joined the Metropolitan Police in 1955 and when I came out of training school in the October I was sent to ‘A’ division. There were plenty of protection posts on ‘A’ division and they were all armed posts. I remember we carried the 1934 model Beretta and that the training I had was nil – at least I don’t remember any. The fact that I had just left the Marines seems to have been sufficient. The weapon was carried in a pocket – no holsters were issued. We had the long straight mackintosh at the time and we’d put the gun just inside the pocket. 10 Downing Street [the official London home and office of the Prime Minister] had an armed post at the front and I remember that when you were relieved for your refreshments, you used to hand the Beretta over to the bloke who was relieving you. He’d stick it in his pocket and sometimes when you got back you would find the Beretta laid out on the step in front of you. The bloke had stripped it down and you had to put it back together again.

The new instructions required that twenty-four men in each division (those in central London were allowed more) attend an ‘annual firing practice and proficiency test’, although this was not a new idea. An annual practice (of six rounds) had first been introduced in 1885 and, as its name suggests, it took place once every year thereafter. In 1914 the ammunition expended was increased (to twenty-four rounds) and, for the first time, a proficiency test was introduced. Although the format was revised again in 1936 (to thirty-two rounds), the war intervened in 1939 and it had to stop. The new regulations therefore only reintroduced what had once been a regular event, albeit it had not taken place for a decade and a half. The main new component was that it now had to be carried out in accordance with a booklet produced by the Metropolitan Police Shooting League, an umbrella organisation for divisional clubs that encouraged shooting as a recreational sport for police officers. Since 1914 the Receiver (the person responsible for police finance, buildings and equipment) had even provided indoor pistol ranges in a few police stations and supplied the league with .22 calibre ammunition at a reduced price. The league in turn sold this on to divisional clubs with the benefit to the force being that it provided a cheap form of training for the annual test, although not all divisions had a club and it was certainly not a requirement that officers belong to one.

The league produced separate booklets for the Webley and Scott revolvers and the Walther pistols giving details of the weapon, safety precautions and shooting techniques. The weapon was to be held at waist level for ‘sense of direction’ shooting at 10 yards and raised to eye level so that the sights could be used for ‘aimed fire’ at 15 yards. Each man was supposed to fire twenty-four rounds as practice with another twelve for the test. This would all have seemed very familiar to anyone who had undergone training with the Special Operations Executive (SOE) during the Second World War. Captain William Fairbairn and Captain Eric Sykes, both former Shanghai police officers, had taught agents how to shoot at the Arisaig SOE training school in Scotland. Fairbairn had then been seconded to Canada where he taught members of SOE’s opposite number in the US, the Office of Strategic Services (OSS).

Fairbairn and Sykes believed that using the sights on a gun at close range was a dangerous waste of time. Instead, a person should use their natural ‘sense of direction’ which enabled them to point instinctively with their finger at an object without having to close one eye to do it. In place of the finger was a gun. Fairbairn and Sykes’s book, Shooting to Live, is the foundation from which most modern techniques of close-quarter shooting evolved.

The finer points of combat pistol shooting theory would have meant little or nothing to anyone who had not served in SOE or read Shooting to Live. Even with proper training, the requirement to hit a target from waist level at 10 yards was expecting a lot and luck would have influenced the result. The ‘standard of proficiency’ expected was for an officer to achieve two hits out of six for ‘sense of direction’ shooting and three hits out of six for ‘aimed fire’. However, according to the instructions, ‘it is not absolutely essential for all selected officers to pass the proficiency test, so long as each proves clearly that he is capable of handling a pistol or revolver’. When combined with the difficulty involved in ‘sense of direction’ shooting and a lack of understanding of why it was even required, this appears to have opened the door for the test to be ignored, as Constables Kris Freeland and Mick Weight discovered.

Kris Freeland

When I left the Royal Marines I went back into the docks as I was a stevedore before I enlisted. I joined the Metropolitan Police in 1950 and although I didn’t become an authorised shot [an officer authorised to carry a firearm] right away, when I did I thought the system was archaic. All you had to do was to go to a range and fire a few rounds. I used to go to the range at City Road police station and the first time I went it was almost embarrassing. It was just a question of picking up the gun from the table and when the order was given you started to fire. It was very haphazard, although of course it was all that was required in those days.

Mick Weight

I joined in 1961 and was posted to Earlsfield on ‘W’ division. Constable Bert Ball, a wartime special who had stayed on after the war, was the ‘station gunman’ and after I had finished my two years’ probation he asked me if I would like to replace him. He arranged for me to go to Imber Court sports club pistol range where an elderly inspector and six constables arrived in a green police coach. We were shown how to open and load Webley revolvers and proceeded to fire a practice. This was six left-handed and six right-handed at about 15 yards – with no earmuffs of course. We then fired six rounds kneeling, right-handed. We then repeated the shoot in order to qualify.

This was considerably more training than was given to another officer, Constable, later Inspector, Alex Moir, who was authorised at about the same time:

In 1964 I was serving at Kensington on ‘F’ division. Three of us went in a van to Chelsea barracks where an army sergeant greeted us and took us to a small range where there was a large target set up about 5 to 7 yards away. There was a Webley revolver lying loaded on a table in front of us and on the target there was a large photograph of the then Commissioner, Sir Joseph Simpson. I fired the six shots and hit the photograph six times. The army sergeant told me I had reached the required standard and was authorised to use a revolver. I watched as he unloaded the revolver but I never received any instruction in either loading or unloading. I had to work out how to do it for myself. When I paraded for duty that night I was issued with a Webley revolver, a canvas holster and a canvas webbing belt. I was given twelve rounds of ammunition and instructed by the duty officer to go to the parade room and load the gun. I then covered the Russian Embassy protection post for the night.

Matters were no better anywhere else in Britain. In fact, in most cases they were a lot worse as the police service faced the second half of the twentieth century with absolutely no idea of just how much the situation would have to change.

Chapter 2

A FIREARMS TRAINING WING

NATIONAL DEVELOPMENTS

After the Second World War the main preoccupation of the Home Office in London, at least as far as the police use of firearms was concerned, centred on the anticipated role of the police in the event of another war. National discussion on the subject was led by the Central Conference of Chief Constables, Police War Duties Committee, but by June 1957 members were divided. Planners expected any future war to begin with an exchange of thermonuclear missiles. The Deputy Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, Joseph Simpson, later Sir Joseph Simpson and Commissioner 1958–68, therefore believed that the police’s primary functions would be the maintenance of morale and the saving of life. This would be carried out by mobile reserves of officers moved into a devastated area from outside, and he did not believe that guarding key locations, the usual armed police wartime role, would be of much importance. The Chief Constable of Essex, Captain Jonathan Peel, later Sir Jonathan Peel, agreed and suggested that ‘this heavy commitment might not be necessary in a nuclear war’, although in this he may have been influenced by the previous year’s discovery that he was now responsible for distributing weapons should there be an outbreak of hostilities. However, other members argued that ‘it may be nuclear rocket warfare will increase the threat of invasion by paratroops or activities by armed saboteurs’ and that the need for the police to guard key locations would therefore increase.

The influence of the Cold War continued to have an effect for the next seven years as the various possibilities were argued back and forth, and by August 1964 opinion had swung in yet another direction. There was now ‘an almost universal realisation that it would be essential for the police to be armed during the post-attack period if they were to combat looting and if they were to stand a reasonable chance of restoring law and order.’

The idea of mobile reserves, to become known as ‘mobile columns’, had been devised in 1954 and kept secret. A single police mobile column would be made up of two units, each consisting of a sergeant and ten constables, under the command of an inspector or chief inspector, with 176 police columns covering the whole of Britain. Similar columns would be made up of the Civil Defence Corps, the Auxiliary Fire Service and the National Hospital Services Reserve. It now looked as though the police contribution would need firearms. However, not only had the columns not existed when weapon supply was agreed in 1948, the handguns and rifles were no longer in Essex – and no one knew where they were. In December 1964 the Home Office wrote to Sir Joseph Simpson, now Commissioner, to tell him that a small working party would be formed to resolve the matter once and for all.