My last shift was an absolute arse, thanks to the weather which has been occurring over most of the country.
I came out proper cross (and made it home safely, thanks for asking) but not for the usual reasons. There was a lot of air traffic and my ankle actually still aches from pressing the transmit pedal, but it was unavoidable. I don't mind heavy air traffic when it's justified.
No, I was angry because this is the third year in a row that we've had enough snowfall to affect peoples' everyday lives and the county council and the force that I work for don't seem to have reacted in any way. The council are still on their policy of gritting A roads and nothing else. No pavements, no minor roads, no snowploughs - just grit lorries on the A roads.
On the area I worked, we managed to field one Land Rover, a dozen hours after it started snowing. All the other response officers were merrily getting stuck in the usual poxy Astras.
Unusually, a word of thanks goes out to the people of Bravo Sierra's force area. Yes, a lot of you called in because there were kids throwing snowballs and you deserve a special Chocolate Truncheon reward. But all the people out in their cars were generally sensible: we had hundreds of Section 170 calls, but no-one was daft enough to drive fast enough on snow and ice to injure themselves.
This will sound patronising, but it's not meant to: people of Bravoshire, congratulate yourselves on knowing your limits and driving slowly in dangerous conditions. Bumpers can be replaced: people can't.
A slightly more sarcastic "well-done" goes out to the usual characters: most of you managed not to have any domestics while we were busy getting stranded in the snow, so thanks for that.
No comments:
Post a Comment