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The idea of choosing the Police force as my future career, recalls Archie Greenshields, now retired, was instilled in me by a fellow prisoner of war in 1944 (aged 23), whilst walking around the perimeter of a 'Stalag' one evening after our daily grind. Once the Second Front had opened up to boost the morale of the hundreds of P.O.W.'s in Poland who had been waiting, some for years just for that day, it was natural that apart from thinking of home and our release, there would be other important issues to consider.
There would be the ever-increasing contention of what the future would be for each of us, especially for those that had no job to return to.
It was Vaniah Price, or Taffy as he was known to his circle of friends, an ex-school master from Wales, and we were deep in discussion regarding both our futures. I had not fully decided whether or not to re-enlist for a further term in the army, even though the war and subsequent capture had rather dampened my enthusiasm. On the other hand, however, I had long since considered re-employment in the building trade.
Taffy ventured the suggestion that I might consider applying to join a Police force and thought at least with my army certificate I would qualify. He pointed out that although under-weight, once we had been repatriated and returned to good food, I should have no problems. I remember commenting that I believed there would be little chance of my considering his suggestion, illustrating that at that time I was lacking in assertiveness.
Neither of us at that time, nor the thousands of other prisoners, had the remotest idea of what we were to be faced with in the final months of the conflict.
Soon after this discussion I remember that I received a letter from my Aunt Florrie who wrote to me occasionally, giving me much more family news than ever I received in my Mother's letters. Florrie told me that she was doing 'her bit' for the War by serving with the Auxiliary Police Force in Chichester and was now a sergeant.
I later learned, on my return home, that she had been in sole charge of the canteen at Chichester Police station and provided hot meals for the whole staff. Naturally I was pleased and proud of her as she had been quite a favourite of mine and in fact of the whole family, to whom everyone turned for advice.
Eventually the war ended and our hopes of a safe return realised. By that time I had decided once and for all that I could return to civilian life after I was de-mobbed, when I became eligible on the 16th April 1946. I was given a further long period of leave which would give me the opportunity to search for employment.
It became obvious that the home I had left in 1937 was decidedly cramped, with my brothers and sisters growing up. I had been given my old bedroom back and although my eldest brother Kenneth (Sonnie) had died earlier in the War and my brother Tom was away in the Merchant Navy, my parents must have been worried that these living conditions would cause problems. It was then that I knew I must make a decision and spoke to my Aunt, who by then had resigned from the Police.
Florrie still had contacts and in fact was lodging with a Police Sergeant and his wife. I asked how I should go about making enquiries and Bill Wykes, (whom Florrie was lodging with) suggested I apply without delay, as vacancies were available, due to men of retirement age wishing to leave now that the war had ended.
I wasted no time, completed an application form and was measured up for height, weight and chest expansion (carried out by Bill and another sergeant in the CID section). This was shortly after their lunch break, which must have been of a decidedly fluid nature and had an effect on the accuracy of their measuring!
My height was measured against an office wall and a mark scribed above my head with a ruler and pencil, then a tape measure used. Instead of being kept against the wall in its entirety, it was passed round the front of a large-bore heating pipe running along the base of the wall. This action turned me into a 'six footer', which I certainly am not!
Soon after my application, I received instructions to report to an address in Brighton to sit an education exam, and to receive a medical examination by a Police doctor. The Chief Constable would then interview those considered suitable. I should point out at this stage that during the war the various constabularies of Sussex had been amalgamated to form the Sussex Constabulary under the command of the Chief Constable, a Mr Williams.
There were some two dozen applicants. Those considered to have the educational standard and who measured up to the force's requirements for new entrants, were interviewed later that same afternoon by the Chief Constable. I was fortunate to have been selected.
There was one amusing point in my interview when the Chief Constable, who had already seen several ex-commissioned officer types, said, 'I note, Mr Greenshields, that you signed your application as being a L/C. Were you a Lieutenant-colonel?' I do believe he was disappointed with my reply that I had only been a lance corporal, and have wondered ever since whether I was accepted on the basis of a misunderstanding.
Within a few days I received a letter of acceptance and was given instructions to report to Chichester Police station. I attended at the appointed time and, together with another entrant, was measured for a uniform by a senior constable, Bill Chitty, who was in charge of the stores. Bill was a well liked character and later was promoted to a sergeant, when the force stores were moved to Southbourne.
It was explained that there was little we could do for at least a week, other than to make ourselves useful about the police station. It was suggested that we could pass the time by cleaning windows and finding our way about the many offices, in general watching the activities behind the scenes.
After a couple of days, probably getting in everyone's way, we were sent to Bognor Regis to attend a sitting of a Magistrates' Court to be sworn in and take the oath of acting as Constables in The County of Sussex. It was only when this oath had been taken that we could wear the uniform with which we had been issued.
I remember the feeling of awe that I felt putting it on for the first time and having a photo taken in the garden at Kent Road. I felt self-conscious and must admit that on the rare occasions I have seen that first photograph, the uniform was ill-fitting and the helmet of an old fashioned style that sat on my head like a coal-scuttle. The reason for this was that the uniform was part worn before issue and it was to be only after passing out at college that the great expense of full kit be made, after a tailor had obtained measurements.
My number was to be PC.69 and had been previously allocated to one Bob Copper, who subsequently became the author of several books on Sussex. He was a collector of Sussex folk songs and for many years after his retirement gave entertainment's, together with his son, who were recognised as experts in their field. I was proud to bear his number and even to wear his cast of great coat until a new one could be issued.
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