This article was published in the West Sussex Gazette on May 24th 2001.

Archie Greenshields, born in 1921, tells us about his doubtful first days as a police officer, after a rigorous training course at the Police College in Sandgate, Kent.

'One Saturday, early in February 1947, I reported to Littlehampton Police station and was seen by Inspector Miller. I was told that lodgings had been arranged for me with a Mrs Tinkler at (I think) no. 112 East Ham Road, Littlehampton. I learned that Mrs Tinkler's husband was the Odeon Cinema commissionaire and that they had two sons, Alan and Tony, and a daughter, Betty. Alan was away on National Service at the time I lived with them and Tony was a telegraph boy. Betty was still at school. It seemed very pleasant for a while and I believed that I would settle in.

The following day at 9 a.m., I was briefly told what was going to happen during that day. It was explained how the tours of duty were arranged, the times I was expected to be at the station before the duties, the name of the sergeant to whom I had been allocated, and when I could expect my first day off. I was then introduced to a Senior Constable who was told to show me round his beat and, during the rounds, inform me what was expected from a constable on his allocated 'patch'.

In those days there were only three constables on duty during each shift, one in the town, another south of the town which took in the beach area, and a third to the north and more rural area.

The constable that took me out on that first morning explained the basic information, that we would be expected to make conference points about every hour, and wait at differing telephone kiosks for five minutes. This was just in case the station rang through a message or a 'job' was allocated, or perhaps to be met by a sergeant who would need to initial your pocket book to record the visit. It all sounded confusing at first and quite exciting and, to tell the truth, there was so much information passed between us that there was a distinct danger of some being forgotten.

It was during that first patrol session I was taken past the dreadfully fast flowing River Arun, (recorded as the second fastest river in the country) and learned the awful news from my companion that each year the river claimed the life of someone. I made a silent rule that I would pass through River Road always as quickly as possible - just in case!

The hours to lunchtime passed more quickly than I imagined and at l p.m. I was allowed to escape to my lodgings and join Mrs Tinkler's family for lunch. Afterwards it was back to the station and I was introduced to another constable, to be shown round the town beat - much smaller than the south beat, but with more people around on that cold January day. All the while I was gleaning information.

I learned that although I was just a raw recruit, there were at least two other constables with barely more week's service and, like me, were still finding their feet. By 6 p.m., with the last two hours of that first tour being in the dark, I was glad to take a rest. Before I left the station I was informed that the very next tour of duty would be on 'nights'. I should prepare myself by making sure I wore warm underwear and brought a meal and something hot to drink.

This news came as a shock as I had been under the impression I would not be put on night duty for some little while. At least that was what the tutors who instructed us at the Training Centre had led us to believe. It seems as if the news had not reached Littlehampton at that point. I got to the station well on time and met my Sergeant, Tommy Day, for the first time. I was to be sent out entirely on my own to patrol the South beat, which luckily had few shops to look after.

To say I was apprehensive would be putting it mildly. Around every corner I expected to bump into major criminals, burglars or rapists. And find every crime that was listed in the statute books, which had been rammed into us at the Centre, that we would be expected to deal with during our tour of duty. However, once the public houses had closed, there were very few people about, and less than ever once midnight arrived.

I had been warned to bring a torch with me, and in those far off days they were not a standard issue, all batteries having to be purchased by its owner. The torch was well used on that first night I can tell you. All shop door handles had to be tried and it was a familiar sight to see a patrolling policeman starting on his rounds doing this.

I am not going to bore the reader detailing every minute of my very first night duty, except to say, that long before my supper break arrived I questioned myself as to why on earth I had chosen the Police. By that time I was extremely cold, as it had started to snow. True, I was wearing my overcoat and over the top of this was my cape, and if my memory is correct, I had put on my leggings. I remember too, reminding myself that I had another 30 years of service in front of me. Surely I had made a great mistake!

Any new entrants serving in police forces today would not be expected to go out alone for at least several weeks, and I cannot imagine any supervisory officer even considering the thought of allowing one of his charges to do so on his second tour of duty. But in those days it happened.

Eventually that first night came to an end, as did many hundreds of other night duties that followed. There were many that stand out now as momentous, when some major incident occurred, but that first will never be forgotten. Each successive night duty gradually became easier, when my confidence increased and I became used to the odd noises, mostly caused by marauding cats instead of the burglar or shop breaker.

Eventually, after several change round of duties, one managed to remember those that were around at night too, the bakers, the night watchmen, taxi drivers and many others that shared the night hours.

One of the conference points for either the town or the south man, was the toll bridge over the Arun on the main A259 Bognor Road. This was manned throughout the night by a toll-collector, whose duties also involved the opening of the bridge to allow ships through from time to time. It was a place where a night patrol could obtain a chat and a place for a quiet smoke.

On one occasion I watched a toll-collector fishing for bass at high tide - the lights on the bridge attracted these large fish. The collector was using a homemade spear and encouraged me to try my luck. I was lucky and speared one that weighed a good two pounds, which I presented to my Sergeant.

I had, by that time married Barbara, and learned that preparing and cooking fresh fish certainly did not appeal to her. This reluctance exists until this day, with her preferring the fishmonger to carry out this chore when necessary.

We were encouraged to let the Superintendent know that we were settling in to the routine, and a sure way, was getting your signature put at the bottom of reports. The older hands suggested that Mr Peel would not be happy until he witnessed your name appearing on reports for summons.

They suggested that if you waited in Bayford Road for a few minutes, it would not be long before an un-suspecting cyclist ignored one of the several 'Halt' signs that were positioned at junctions with this road. It was also said that it was expected, before many days had elapsed during a weekly tour of 'days', either early or late, that a chimney would catch fire.

An officer was expected to attend the scene and take particulars for a 'fire report' and report the householder for summons. If the offending chimney had not been swept for sometime, the poor householder ended up in court, when evidence might be given by the officer signing the report, that he had seen black smoke and sparks being emitted from the pot! Unheard of today, I should think, and rightly so.

The living conditions in those early months in lodgings soon became uncomfortable, due to the dampness and its lack of heating. Any time spent alone in my room was hardly suitable and there was constant noise through the young child's music practice. Once Barbara was able to visit me and learned of these problems, and suggested that we bring the date of our wedding forward.

She must have discussed the conditions in which I was living with her Aunt Hilda, who proposed that she would convert the top part of her house into a self-contained flat. This was wonderful news and so the date of our wedding was brought forward to the 12th April 1947.

We were married at South Bersted, Bognor Regis, and had our reception at a house where Aunt Florrie was living at Oaklands Park. It was a simple affair, out of respect for Barbara's father, who had requested that he did not wish for any fuss. We also dispensed with a honeymoon and were quite content with returning after the ceremony to the flat that was ready for our occupation.'

Despite his early doubts, Archie continued his career in the Police Force until 1973, ending 27 years of service.

This article was published in the West Sussex Gazette on May 24th 2001.