Another brilliant article which caused me to reminisce. Some of my provoked recollections include:
Frank Carson drinking tea while I told him my wife was expecting to deliver in a few days. “My wife was in labour for so long they shaved her twice” was his reassurance that I’d be able to get from T1 to Watford General in time.
During the Good Friday Agreement talks I had been protecting RIP. A big part of the plan was to ensure the parties didn’t bump into each other between Downing Street, Parliament and the NIO. On arriving at T1 departures at the end of a very long day he popped down the corridor stairs for a natural break. It was empty so I left him to it and as I walked back up the the corridor Martin McGuinness and his leather-jacketed goons walked down past me. I shit myself. It turns out they just had a convivial chat.
I was handed a Russian GRU agent by a uniformed sergeant whom he had approached in a lift at T4. I think he knew he was heading home to a less than cordial repatriation so wanted to spill the beans to whoever would listen. It happened to be me, and spill them he did. He was eventually removed by some colleagues from the place Spectre seem remarkably adept at destroying. The following morning I was marched to a meeting without coffee, let alone biscuits, with the Superintendent at PCO. His photo was on the front of The Sun alongside Eric Cantona drop kicking a Crystal Palace fan (if anyone can dig out the paper I would love to see it again) alongside his full name and story. The inference (it was definitely and accusation) was that I had called up my contact at News International and decided to trade my future career and pension for a few grand while betraying my country. I was highly miffed but felt unable to prove a negative. ‘C’ had called the commissioner personally to complain as I understand it and that isn’t a situation that lends itself to relaxation. Fortunately I had a blinding revelation that immediately got me off the hook and it was never mentioned again. I spotted that it was a colour photocopy of his passport and in 1996 the photocopying budget of the Met wasn’t able to provide more than charcoal Impressionism. As I say, I’d live to see that Sun front page again as I’d live to find out what happened to my Russian friend.
Fantastic Dom, a gentle stroll down memory lane. Funny how the tedium of duties at the airport (well I was based at Ashford International (T4) for the uninitiated) has dissipated like the distant whiff of aviation fuel. Despite everything it was a valuable introduction to life in the Branch, and to some genuinely inspiring if often odd characters and colleagues. Ahh…….Happy days.
2 yrs Doms, 2 at T1 Ints and another year at Doms, 99-04. Then off to C Squad, E Squad then Ops Room after the 'merger until 2016. Afraid I don't know your real name but sure I must know you! 😉
Myself and a colleague once looked after RIP while he was transferring to Brussells from Belfast. He took us into the VIP restaurant where we passed Michael Heseltine, "Hello Michael" he smiled. Then he whispered to us, "Yesterday's man!"
Best celebrity must be John Rhys Davies. We ended up chatting for the best part of an hour, lovely man.
So many, Natalie Imbruglia being chatted up by a colleague, the entire England football team with Sven, one of the Oasis boys, Chris Rea, Damon Hill, David Coulthard and many, many more.
McGuinness always looked like he was deciding where to put the bullet, Adams was always quite pleasant actually. The one that gave me the willies was Gerry Kelly, dead eyes, like a shark.
Another brilliant article which caused me to reminisce. Some of my provoked recollections include:
Frank Carson drinking tea while I told him my wife was expecting to deliver in a few days. “My wife was in labour for so long they shaved her twice” was his reassurance that I’d be able to get from T1 to Watford General in time.
During the Good Friday Agreement talks I had been protecting RIP. A big part of the plan was to ensure the parties didn’t bump into each other between Downing Street, Parliament and the NIO. On arriving at T1 departures at the end of a very long day he popped down the corridor stairs for a natural break. It was empty so I left him to it and as I walked back up the the corridor Martin McGuinness and his leather-jacketed goons walked down past me. I shit myself. It turns out they just had a convivial chat.
I was handed a Russian GRU agent by a uniformed sergeant whom he had approached in a lift at T4. I think he knew he was heading home to a less than cordial repatriation so wanted to spill the beans to whoever would listen. It happened to be me, and spill them he did. He was eventually removed by some colleagues from the place Spectre seem remarkably adept at destroying. The following morning I was marched to a meeting without coffee, let alone biscuits, with the Superintendent at PCO. His photo was on the front of The Sun alongside Eric Cantona drop kicking a Crystal Palace fan (if anyone can dig out the paper I would love to see it again) alongside his full name and story. The inference (it was definitely and accusation) was that I had called up my contact at News International and decided to trade my future career and pension for a few grand while betraying my country. I was highly miffed but felt unable to prove a negative. ‘C’ had called the commissioner personally to complain as I understand it and that isn’t a situation that lends itself to relaxation. Fortunately I had a blinding revelation that immediately got me off the hook and it was never mentioned again. I spotted that it was a colour photocopy of his passport and in 1996 the photocopying budget of the Met wasn’t able to provide more than charcoal Impressionism. As I say, I’d live to see that Sun front page again as I’d live to find out what happened to my Russian friend.
Fantastic Dom, a gentle stroll down memory lane. Funny how the tedium of duties at the airport (well I was based at Ashford International (T4) for the uninitiated) has dissipated like the distant whiff of aviation fuel. Despite everything it was a valuable introduction to life in the Branch, and to some genuinely inspiring if often odd characters and colleagues. Ahh…….Happy days.
2 yrs Doms, 2 at T1 Ints and another year at Doms, 99-04. Then off to C Squad, E Squad then Ops Room after the 'merger until 2016. Afraid I don't know your real name but sure I must know you! 😉
Superb!
Myself and a colleague once looked after RIP while he was transferring to Brussells from Belfast. He took us into the VIP restaurant where we passed Michael Heseltine, "Hello Michael" he smiled. Then he whispered to us, "Yesterday's man!"
Best celebrity must be John Rhys Davies. We ended up chatting for the best part of an hour, lovely man.
So many, Natalie Imbruglia being chatted up by a colleague, the entire England football team with Sven, one of the Oasis boys, Chris Rea, Damon Hill, David Coulthard and many, many more.
McGuinness always looked like he was deciding where to put the bullet, Adams was always quite pleasant actually. The one that gave me the willies was Gerry Kelly, dead eyes, like a shark.
SB Xmas party…..👏👏👏