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'In October 1962 we moved into a pre-war Police house, no.2 Stanley Close,' remembers Archie Greenshields, born in 1921, who had been with the police force since 1946, 'a small cul-de-sac adjacent to the Police station, which is in London Road.
The house was built just before the Second World War and not as nice as the last two we had occupied. There were two rooms, a kitchen and an outside lavatory, three bedrooms and a bathroom above. It was L-shaped in design and the front therefore had three outside walls. We soon discovered when winter arrived that these rooms were extremely cold. There was a fair sized garden with a high wall at the bottom, to shelter the householder from a large coach and car park.
The twins of course had to change schools yet again, but Julia was able to continue at Chichester High School, now having the benefit of a much shorter bus journey.
The moving in was much more difficult this time, in that every room was a different size, the windows and floor space that needed curtains and flooring caused problems. The neighbours, however, we found were very friendly and with Hotham Park almost on the doorstep and the seashore not too far away, we believed the children would soon settle in. Even Barbara's Aunt Hilda only lived a few yards from our home. The regulation three days allowed for moving in was filled and soon passed, it was time to present myself for duties.
I found myself delegated for outside patrol duties. Right from the start, I discovered that the atmosphere at Bognor Regis was much more relaxed, and the yoke of the martinet I had served under for the past two years was lifted. I knew many of the officers stationed there and believed that I would enjoy the future working conditions. It was a small station with two residences, one for the Inspector and another for a member of the CID. About a year after I commenced work at Bognor, both these living quarters were taken over as extra offices.
I continued with patrol duties, but eventually my seniority in service enabled me to man the office for most of my tour and, as it was a very busy job with much more activity than at Petworth, time seemed to fly past. It was very convenient for meal breaks during the daytime as, living so close to the station, I could have them at home.
There were a keen lot of young men in the section, and the men with more seniority would be expected to help them along and guide them on difficulties they might meet. It was so different to when I first started, and everyone in the higher ranks seemed very approachable.
There was one young man (who is still serving as a very senior officer), with whom I had a small wager before going on patrol, as an aid to his experience and also to know his law. The idea was to discover who could detect the most unusual offence, and whoever was judged the winner got a small bar of chocolate. The man, who shall remain anonymous, won his wager outright. He stopped a motorist, who had rigged up a small -screened television on the dashboard of the huge American car he owned and was driving!
Barbara and I invited him and another young recruit to join us for tea one evening, for both were single men at the time. One of these, PC Ron Leahy has recently died, sadly so young, having succumbed to cancer.
There were a lot of men there during this period, that I shall forever remember, senior officers, sergeants, and constables. Today, years after I retired from the force, I read familiar names who in their turn also face retirement.
Once, during the time I was at Worthing, I volunteered to be the Divisional Representative and contributor to the in-house magazine, The Parade, the editor of which was Sergeant 'Buck' Taylor, who was a neighbour of ours. My nom de plume was 'H'Burger' (an abbreviation of Heidleburger) to hide even further the name 'Idle Bugger'. Even Barbara was roped in, and for many years she contributed a popular item for the children of serving officers, with her 'Children's Corner by Aunt Penny'.
With the amalgamation of the Sussex Police Forces, which was to come before many more years elapsed, The Parade folded up and a small newspaper appeared monthly to replace it.
The Sports and Social Club had many members, having a billiard/snooker table, as well as a small bar. Each year at Christmas time entertainment and a tea party was provided for the children of the regular and special officers. I assisted whenever possible, naturally enjoying the opportunity.
I was not involved in many cases whilst attached to a section, mainly because I was mostly acting as front office man. This was a duty that dealt with many callers throughout an eight-hour shift, looking after any occupants of the cells, dealing with lost and found property and the occasional dog. I even dealt with a guinea pig that was handed in, its owner was never found, so it became a family pet.
Before the regular duties in the office commenced, I did arrest a youth who had been circulated as wanted, for holding up the proprietor of a wool shop in London Road, and that was really by chance.
What served me in really good stead occurred on night duty in the office, and I believed it helped me onto the first rung of the ladder, earning me a special commendation.
Taking over from the late evening front office man I prepared myself, by the hive of activity in the station, for what seemed a very busy night. Having taken stock, I saw that several CID members were still busy about the offices. One of them reported that there was a prisoner occupying a cell whom had been 'banged up' as recently as 10 p.m.
The man had been arrested as a result of a circulation in the Police Gazette for larceny, and was to await escort from a Northern Police Force sometime the next day. I was warned to be careful as the prisoner was a karate expert. I noted that the charge sheet was completed, all the proper procedures had been dealt with and signatures appended. Just as soon as I was able, I visited his cell to inform him that I would put out the cell light when he was comfortable for the night, and recorded that visit as I had to.
I witnessed that the prisoner was making up his bed on that occasion, but an inner voice seemed to suggest that a visit before an hour had elapsed might be prudent. Less than 45 minutes since my last visit, I took the cell keys to check. At this time I was alone in the station, the Duty Inspector had gone out on his rounds before retiring for the night, and the Section Sergeant was out visiting patrolling officers, somewhere in the town.
One must remember that this was in the days before personal radios were standard issue, and constables on patrol still had to make a conference point hourly.
Opening the cell passage, I looked through the door flap, which was still open and found the man hanging from the ventilation frame of the cell window. Cursing, I opened the door and felt for a small knife I always carried for pencil sharpening. I was unable to take the strain of his weight, which is necessary according to the first aid book, and sawed through the material the prisoner had used to hang himself. (This turned out to be the canvas sides of the mattress.)
The weight of the man threw me backwards as I cut the material and I fell heavily against the open cell door, which swung shut and locked. Unfortunately the key was on the outside. The man was not breathing so I gave him mouth to mouth respiration, a method that had suddenly gained favour. After a while he spluttered and was sick, but I got him breathing again.
To ensure success, I gave what had been the traditional method of resuscitation. All the while, between calling the prisoner all the rude names I could think of, I was thinking of a method of how to get out of the cell to raise the alarm. I think the man was so weak by then that trying to resist was way past his ability.
I tried to reach the cell door key, still on the outside, but could not. By rolling up the damaged mattress and placing it by the door, I used it to gain height. Luck was with me. Running back to the front office, to find that still no one had returned to the station, I put a number of cords into private line extensions, and waited for a prompt reply. I subsequently screamed out for a doctor and an ambulance.
Within a short while, many people arrived and I began to compose myself from what had been a hair-raising experience. Very senior officers arrived and were given details by the Duty Inspector. Photographs were taken of the window, mattress and the noose.
A police guard was placed at the bed in hospital where the prisoner had been taken. The rest of the night had been an anti-climax and I learned quite soon that everyone had been delighted with my prompt action and resourcefulness. As mentioned earlier, I received what I was told was a well deserved commendation from the Chief Constable, but had realised well before then, that there could have been some serious questions asked, had I been 2 or 3 minutes later in visiting his cell.
I was important for a little while. The prisoner was soon discharged from hospital and taken away by an escort, I suppose to answer the charge that faced him. Everyone at the station involved in the custody of prisoners, I expect paid a little more attention towards their charges after that.
Barbara and I had been house searching for a while and in November 1964 purchased the house we still live in. Julia and Barbara were attending Chichester High School and Jane remained at the William Fletcher, now the Bognor Regis Community College. As well as running our new home, Barbara was increasing her skills in dressmaking, having studied and obtained good grades in City and Guilds examinations. All the while I was performing duties behind the front desk at the station.
It was around this time that interviews for candidates for promotion were regularly held and, having passed all exams that I had been able to sit, I was eventually called to attend one of these. I gave it everything I was able and considered that at 17 years into my service, hopes were beginning to fade that I would ever get past the first rung of the ladder.
In the autumn of 1965 however, late one evening I received the news that I had been promoted to Sergeant and was to be posted to the Information Room at Chichester. This was the most exciting news I had experienced for a long time. I did not doubt that I would carry the load I would surely have to face, the criticism from those who thought they were more qualified, and, more likely, from those who had no chances anyway.
What did cause me some concern was that my duties were to be in the operation headquarters of the force, manning the radio, telex, and the multitude of telephones. I knew that there would be full instructions, but never the less, I felt a little insecure knowing that my experience in that field was nil. It would mean too, that transport to and from Chichester would be top priority, so I quickly purchased a motor scooter, put up my stripes proudly of course, and reported for my new duties.
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