Officer Down
by Angus Shoor Caan
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: Cops have a tough enough time of it without this to contend with.
_____________________________________________________________________
Conscientious cops don’t dare to turn their radios off at chow time, and the staff at their favourite eaterie totally understood the reasoning behind such behaviour. They’re professional men and women serving a busy precinct in the heart of the city and, as such, always in a state of high alert, ready to answer the various coded messages sent out by colleagues in dispatch, their reaction tempered by the severity of the message.
There’s always banter at such gatherings, a sort of gallows humour only cops would find amusing and the side table of new recruits listened in intently with a view to picking up on it as a matter of some urgency in order to fit in better with their more experienced peers. Instructors had impressed this much and more upon them during the course of their training. Learn the jargon, all the necessary codes, almost a foreign language, a whole new different way of communicating which was drilled into them from day one. Just as important to pick a senior partner’s brains on how to go about the task of everyday police work for two quite obvious reasons. One, to ensure everyone was on the same page which would go a long way towards reducing paperwork, and two, to fit in, simple.
One or two newbies already joined their more senior partners at the table while others were a little more hesitant to do so. Every day was a learning curve, and not only for those who had recently been through the rigorous training programmes to join the force. Some seasoned cops always favoured the more experienced view, reckoning they had served their time learning the job and believing they knew it all when it came down to street smarts. Others among them, those who were wise to the fact rookies were being taught new and interesting procedures in the fight against crime, didn’t hesitate to pick their brains, however subtly they could make those enquiries. They firmly believed they were better cops for that and not too many would argue the point.
Rafferty’s was one such restaurant/bar, frequented by both uniformed and plain clothes officers alike. Off duty cops could relax with a few beers and a game of pool while those on duty could avail themselves of the finest menu in the precinct and surrounding area. Open twenty four hours and on every day of the year, it served as a welcome haven from the rigours of the city streets. Over the years there were many instances of cross profession relationships. Cops going out with waitresses and likewise waiters and male staff dating female cops since most came to understand the pressures of either occupation.
No one who was there will ever forget the day the Earth stood still. It was lunchtime in the run up to Christmas, four days to go. All leave and holidays had been cancelled to cope with a mini flu epidemic and the seasonal urgency of shops, bars and streets awash with people losing it over toys and electronic goods, the season of goodwill, although the cops call it something quite different.
Forks full of food hovered in mid air, as did coffee cups and conversations, as the many radios crackled to life with the unfamiliar voice of yet another rookie.
‘OFFICER DOWN: OFFICER DOWN:’
No one seemed to notice the missing code, all silently waiting for a location to ascertain could they be of any assistance and praying it wasn’t a fellow officer from their own watch as the dispatch announcer continued.
‘MESSAGE FOR OFFICER HANS DOWN. PROCEED TO ST. ELVIRA’S HOSPITAL WHERE YOUR WIFE HAS GONE INTO LABOUR.’
Being one of the aforementioned new recruits, Hans Down would never be allowed to forget the day the Earth stood still. The day his comrades on the force collectively missed several heartbeats. The day his baby daughter, Ida, came into the world.
Swearwords: None.
Description: Cops have a tough enough time of it without this to contend with.
_____________________________________________________________________
Conscientious cops don’t dare to turn their radios off at chow time, and the staff at their favourite eaterie totally understood the reasoning behind such behaviour. They’re professional men and women serving a busy precinct in the heart of the city and, as such, always in a state of high alert, ready to answer the various coded messages sent out by colleagues in dispatch, their reaction tempered by the severity of the message.
There’s always banter at such gatherings, a sort of gallows humour only cops would find amusing and the side table of new recruits listened in intently with a view to picking up on it as a matter of some urgency in order to fit in better with their more experienced peers. Instructors had impressed this much and more upon them during the course of their training. Learn the jargon, all the necessary codes, almost a foreign language, a whole new different way of communicating which was drilled into them from day one. Just as important to pick a senior partner’s brains on how to go about the task of everyday police work for two quite obvious reasons. One, to ensure everyone was on the same page which would go a long way towards reducing paperwork, and two, to fit in, simple.
One or two newbies already joined their more senior partners at the table while others were a little more hesitant to do so. Every day was a learning curve, and not only for those who had recently been through the rigorous training programmes to join the force. Some seasoned cops always favoured the more experienced view, reckoning they had served their time learning the job and believing they knew it all when it came down to street smarts. Others among them, those who were wise to the fact rookies were being taught new and interesting procedures in the fight against crime, didn’t hesitate to pick their brains, however subtly they could make those enquiries. They firmly believed they were better cops for that and not too many would argue the point.
Rafferty’s was one such restaurant/bar, frequented by both uniformed and plain clothes officers alike. Off duty cops could relax with a few beers and a game of pool while those on duty could avail themselves of the finest menu in the precinct and surrounding area. Open twenty four hours and on every day of the year, it served as a welcome haven from the rigours of the city streets. Over the years there were many instances of cross profession relationships. Cops going out with waitresses and likewise waiters and male staff dating female cops since most came to understand the pressures of either occupation.
No one who was there will ever forget the day the Earth stood still. It was lunchtime in the run up to Christmas, four days to go. All leave and holidays had been cancelled to cope with a mini flu epidemic and the seasonal urgency of shops, bars and streets awash with people losing it over toys and electronic goods, the season of goodwill, although the cops call it something quite different.
Forks full of food hovered in mid air, as did coffee cups and conversations, as the many radios crackled to life with the unfamiliar voice of yet another rookie.
‘OFFICER DOWN: OFFICER DOWN:’
No one seemed to notice the missing code, all silently waiting for a location to ascertain could they be of any assistance and praying it wasn’t a fellow officer from their own watch as the dispatch announcer continued.
‘MESSAGE FOR OFFICER HANS DOWN. PROCEED TO ST. ELVIRA’S HOSPITAL WHERE YOUR WIFE HAS GONE INTO LABOUR.’
Being one of the aforementioned new recruits, Hans Down would never be allowed to forget the day the Earth stood still. The day his comrades on the force collectively missed several heartbeats. The day his baby daughter, Ida, came into the world.
About the Author
Angus Shoor Caan is in his 50s, an ex-seaman and rail worker. Born and bred in sunny Saltcoats, he returned to Scotland after many years in England and found the time to begin writing. He is inspired by the Ayrshire coast and likes what he calls "real music". He also enjoys pool, snooker and is a big fan of rugby league side, Wigan Warriors. He has written several novels and one poetry collection and says that writing gives him "endless pleasure". His two ebooks can be viewed by clicking on the images below.
Angus tells us that all his stories on McStorytellers have been inspired by the titles of songs written by Paul Kelly, who is often described as the poet laureate of Australia.
Angus tells us that all his stories on McStorytellers have been inspired by the titles of songs written by Paul Kelly, who is often described as the poet laureate of Australia.
 Larry Kynn |
 Dhu Lally & The Bampots |