Welcome to the Civil Service...

I am currently on a training course for new managers.

I was promoted to a managerial position two years ago.

An H.R. spokesperson has probably said:
Oh, yes sir-ree! As an organisation that promotes equality, we like to ensure that everyone gets the chance to experience the sensation of having absolutely sweet-FA of a clue as to what they're supposed to be doing. Then we wait a year or so, and perhaps then we tell them! Or maybe not... I dunno. Ask my boss.

Ladies and Gentlemen, you gotta love the civil service!

Hello

My friend and former colleague asked me to contribute to his blog and present a different perspective on life as a Scene Examiner within another Police Force. With him working in a very busy area in a very busy city and me in a not very busy area in a not very busy city, in fact not anywhere near a city, just a vast expanse of land occupied by cattle/sheep and the odd farmer and his wife.

Just over 5 years ago I left my home town to start my working life as a Crime Scene Examiner in a major city in the UK. I worked with Negative Result in one of the busiest areas in the city. We had a very good team of staff that were producing excellent results, which often went unnoticed by our Police colleagues. We only identified the offender after all!
The team had another quality, we were all a similar age and liked to drink!

Anyway 5 years of working in a very busy area I decided to retire to the country and become a CSI (CSI - a title I hate, much prefer SOCO, it's a little less flashy). The decision was very tough as I would be leaving a cracking team, my friends and a job I loved. However, the pull of home was strong.

The manic city lifestyle, the night duties from hell, the endless traffic jams, massive organisation that i didn't feel part of, the high crime rate, griefy jobs and my beast of a van all gone, replaced by.........................BOREDOM.
What have I done.

Z

A Logic Void

Last evening, as the dust settled on the scene of a running street fight...

Me: Right, can I just ask that everyone steps out of camera shot, please?
Member of Public: Why you takin' fotos of me, bro'?
Me: We're not. We want to photograph the scene.
MOP: Yeah, but why you takin' fotos of me? I wanna know why you is fotoing us!
Me: We're not, but if you don't move out of the way, sir, then you will be in the photograph won't you?
MOP: Why won't you tell me why you is takin fotos of me!
Me: (sigh) Sir, as I have already explained, we're not. We are photographing the scene of a crime. But if you don't move out of the way right now, then you will be in the photograph, and you may be required to attend court to explain yourself.
MOP: Oh. (exits stage left)

Night Watch

Homosexual rape.
Four burnt out cars.
A suspect twatted 'round the head with a Samurai sword (though since they're a suspect, they'll almost certainly survive injuries that would normally kill...)
A man that jumped to his death.
A victim alive thanks only to a jammed firearm.
And a bread thief!

Yep, I love a weekend of working nights...

School-boy errors...

We in the trade have a term - "thieve's marks". It refers to the fingermarks we find at a scene that are most likely to be those of the suspect. For example, the fingermarks on a window frame through which the scally gained entry...
I recently examined a burglary scene where I retrieved lovely sets of "thieve's marks". Chatting to the victim I soon learnt that she was a PC. There followed a quick dressing down with regards to her poor home-security. But, not only was she a Peeler; she was employed in the tuition of new recruits... the very same PC's that turned up to report the crime! And guess what! Those lovely "thieve's marks"? Yep, they come back to PC's Plod and Numb-nuts!
Seriously guys... criminals are smart enough to wear gloves.
Why do you think you're any different?

First Post

Hi,
I've been faffing around with this blogging malarkey for a while. Mainly just drunken rants and unrequited love letters to my favourite bands/films/something-or-other...
Now's the time to step up to plate. Having seen the growth of the "Plod-Blog" over recent years, I think it's a great way for the wider public to have a window into our world, and for us to vent our spleen!
Anyway, I'm a SOCO and I've been in the Job for the past five or so years.
First thing's first: -

1. SOCO stands for Scenes of Crime Officer. A perfectly self-explanatory name. This, of course, is not suitable and frankly will not do! We are now called Forensic Practitioners, which is crap. Sounds like we're vets or summink! (But thank God we haven't followed the other Forces predilection for the CSI moniker!).
   
2. Yes, I see dead people. And yes, it's weird at first. But like every part of the job, you just get on with it. Admittedly the first time I had to fingerprint a corpse was pretty daunting!
3. No. I don't have a gun.
4. But yes, I do have a badge.
   
5. No. We're not Police Officers.
   

One of my best friends described my job as "pointing & shouting". In the very best traditions of Quincey et. al . I hope to live up to his expectations!

I am fortunate enough to be a member of a fantastic team working in one of the busiest areas of our city, and we produce pretty good results, even if I say so myself.
Hopefully, I can give you an insight on the weird world of Public Service, Civil Service, and the general lip service that we deal with on a day to day basis!