In the United Kingdom, police officers stand as sentinels of peace, safeguarding communities and upholding law and order. These men and women, often referred to as the “thin blue line,” are a family, a family that exhibits remarkable heroism and bravery in the face of adversity, dedicating themselves to protecting the public and ensuring justice prevails.
The origins of modern policing in the UK can be traced back to the Metropolitan Police Service, established in 1829 by then Home Secretary Sir Robert Peel. Peel’s principles of policing emphasised community cooperation, crime prevention, and professionalism, shaping the foundation of the UK’s law enforcement approach. From its inception, the police force has embodied these principles, with countless officers demonstrating extraordinary courage in their efforts to maintain public safety.
The tragic death of 46-year-old Sergeant Graham Saville will have hurt the police family. Few officers, serving or retired, will have known Graham personally, but all will recognise him for the job he did, the duty he performed and the risks he was prepared to take to save the life of a complete stranger. The reason, we’ve all been there. We’ve all asked ourselves how we would face that moment when duty requires you to risk your life to save another. We’ve all received training on risk, be it the live railway line, the burning building where people are believed trapped, the frozen lake where a child has slipped into the dark, icy water, the crazed sword wielding madman, the armed terrorist bent on murder, the suicide bomber, and any number of other times where police officers may be called to place themselves in harm’s way. Some of us have taken those risks and survived. Others are not so fortunate. But knowledge of their mortality doesn’t stop those young men and women from taking such risks.
One remarkable example of heroism in recent memory is the response to the 2017 London Bridge attack. In the face of terror and an apparent suicide bomber , UK police officers demonstrated incredible bravery and selflessness.
Armed only with batons and minimal protective gear, several officers rushed towards danger, engaging the attacker carrying what appeared to be a bomb despite the imminent threat to their own lives. Their quick and decisive actions saved numerous lives and prevented further tragedy. These qualities reflect the real character of the men and women of our police services and the commitment, and dedication they exhibit each day.
While high-profile incidents like London Bridge and this week’s death of Graham Saville highlight the extraordinary courage of UK police officers, countless instances of bravery occur daily, often away from the public eye. These unsung heroes respond to emergencies, diffuse tense situations, and protect vulnerable individuals. From intervening in domestic violence situations to rescuing individuals from accidents, their willingness to place themselves in harm’s way for the greater good remains unwavering.
Tragically, some police officers will pay the ultimate price in the line of duty. The UK remembers these fallen heroes through various memorials and ceremonies. The National Police Memorial, located in London, stands as a solemn tribute to officers who lost their lives while serving the public.
These memorials serve as poignant reminders of the risks officers face and the sacrifices they make to ensure the safety and wellbeing of their fellow citizens. The next time you pass one of these, do stop for a moment to think what they represent.
The heroism and bravery displayed by UK police officers reflects an unwavering commitment to upholding the principles of justice, safety, and public order. From confronting immediate threats in high-stress situations to fostering trust within communities, these officers exemplify the true essence of public service. As the custodians of peace, they navigate complex challenges with courage, empathy, and professionalism. The police is a service that has rightly come in for significant criticism of late when some, not fit to wear the uniform, have been exposed. However, we who do not run towards danger, who are not called to enter that burning building or frozen lake or, indeed, to pull a man from the path of an oncoming train; we must remember the legacy of Sir Robert Peel’s principles lives on through their actions, reminding us that the “thin blue line” is not just a symbol, but a steadfast embodiment of bravery in the face of adversity.
Sergeant Graham Saville, I salute you. As I salute each and every police officer prepared to do the job you did.
The photograph above shows former PC John Murray at the first police memorial, dedicated in 1984 to the memory of WPC Yvonne Fletcher. The story of Yvonne’s murder and of John’s incredible 40-year campaign to secure justice for her has now been published. It’s called No Ordinary Day. More about it here.
The recent decision by the Metropolitan Police to ban the wearing of the thin blue line badge has stirred significant controversy and debate. A symbol that has traditionally been used to represent solidarity and support for law enforcement officers, and a salute to those killed in the line of duty, the thin blue line badge, featuring a black-and-white union flag with a blue line, has become a popular national symbol representing the role of law enforcement as a barrier between the monsters and the weak, a force separating society from chaos and disorder. Supporters argue the badge symbolises respect for the fallen and appreciation for the difficult and often dangerous work performed by police officers.
And, I would argue, to assess the probity of this badge or patch, it is very relevant to consider when and how the expression ‘thin blue line’ first became popular. It was about twenty years ago when a United States marine called Michael Marks wrote a poem by that name, reputedly while sitting in a shell-hole during a tour of Iraq. The poignant ending to that poem resulted in it becoming hugely popular in policing and military circles.
These are final words of that poem; –
The decision by the Met to ban the public wearing of this patch at a demonstration has prompted discussions regarding the implications of its display, potential political affiliations, and its impact on community relations. In February this year, it was reported that a Nottingham based police officer had been referred for possible disciplinary action following a complaint by a member of the public alleging the thin blue line patch he had been wearing was now ‘associated with racism’ following its misuse at a protest against a Black Lives Matter rally in the United States. Rather than choosing to robustly defending the officer concerned or to point out that no such association exists in the UK, local senior officers chose to ban all local officers from wearing the patch.
It wasn’t long before political agitators and critics of the police jumped on the bandwagon to use this precedent to attack other police services in the UK. Their rather disingenuous argument maintained the suggestion that the thin blue line symbol had increasingly been associated with the aforementioned undesirable political ideology present in the US. It was said that, in some instances, the patch has been adopted by groups with controversial or divisive agendas, leading to concerns about the potential for the symbol to be seen as a statement of opposition to a number of social justice movements. If the police wore the patch, it was claimed, they were associating themselves with that ideology.
As Nottingham had done before them, senior officers in the Met caved in to this view. The ban they imposed appears to be an attempt to address concerns about perceived bias or favouritism within law enforcement, their acceptance being that the display of the badge could indeed suggest an affinity with such ideologies and, therefore, a lack of impartiality and fairness that could erode trust between the police and the communities they serve.
Not all Chief Officers have shared this view with one or two of the bravest being prepared to stand up and defend the badge for what it truly represents. The Met decision, however, raises complex issues surrounding symbolism, political associations, community relations, and trust. While the ban may be intended to address concerns about bias and impartiality, it also risks alienating officers and their supporters, driving a wedge between rank and file officers and management. Is it the case that the hijacking of a police patch by a group in the United States should have such an immediate and telling impact on thinking and decision-making in the UK? Is this a reflection of the manner in which policing has become increasingly influenced and controlled in accordance with political expediency rather that public desire and need? Or is this a line in the sand, a point at which the police service needs to stand up and be counted?
Even twenty years ago, the police service in the United Kingdom was regarded as a pillar of impartiality and professionalism. In recent years, however, concerns have been raised in many quarters over the increasing politicisation of the police, their priorities, their style of management, their performance and their ability to deliver the quality of service the UK public is entitled to expect.To understand the current state of affairs, it is important to examine the historical context. The UK’s police service once operated with a strong emphasis on political neutrality and independence. This principle was enshrined in what the Baroness Casey report recently referred to as ‘Peelian Principles’, reputedly established by Sir Robert Peel, the founder of modern UK policing.
Factors such as increased political scrutiny, constraining legislation, the introduction of Police and Crime Commissioners, budget cuts, and government demands for specific outcomes have raised justified concerns about the erosion of police independence.
Several incidents have highlighted the politicisation of the police service. One notable example is the handling of very kind of demonstration that saw the removal of thin blue line patches. The police’s inconsistent response to politically charged gatherings has drawn criticism, with accusations of biased treatment based on political leanings. This has fuelled concerns the police are being directed to prioritise political considerations when maintaining public order with what might be described as ‘light-touch’ policing applied only where political expediency supersedes a need to maintain public order.
The appointment of senior police officers has also come under increasing scrutiny. Critics argue that the selection process is now too greatly influenced by political considerations, compromising the meritocratic principles that should guide these appointments. Similarly, the ease with those Chief Officers who have demonstrate a reluctance to accede to the demands of their political masters, have been dismissed has contributed to a growing feeling that the credibility and independence of the police service is effectively compromised. Toe the line, Chief Constable, or I’ll replace you with someone who will.
The politicisation of the police service has had far-reaching consequences for public trust and confidence. The impartiality and fairness of the police are fundamental to their effectiveness in maintaining law and order. When the perception of bias (for whatever reason) takes root, public trust in the police is eroded. This can lead to reduced cooperation, reluctance to report crime, and a breakdown of community relations – all factors we see present in today’s society.
Several factors have contributed to the politicisation of the police service. One is the increased centralisation of power in policing, with policy being set and decisions being made at national level rather than locally. This concentration of power has made the police service more susceptible to political interference. Another is budget cuts which have put pressure on police forces, making them more vulnerable to political influence. When resources are limited, there is inevitable temptation to prioritise certain issues or appease political interests to secure funding or support.
Is it too late?
To address the issue of politicisation, it is crucial to reinforce the principles of independence, impartiality, and accountability within the police service. This might be achieved through greater transparency in decision-making processes, robust safeguards against political interference, and clear guidelines on the handling of politically sensitive situations. Moreover, a renewed commitment to the training and education of both politicians and police officers on the importance of political neutrality and impartiality is essential. This would help foster a culture that values professionalism and integrity above political considerations. The issue preventing this, however, is political will. Now our police service has been brought under political control, will our politicians ever be prepared to allow it to regain its independence?
Or is the banning of the Thin Blue Line badge a symptom of a service broken beyond repair?
For more on the history of police independence, when the Peelian principles were first brought into question and how our police services were systematically brought under political control, please do read No Ordinary Day – how one of the greatest tragedies in UK policing history triggered the end of an independent UK police service.
The truth behind the murder, in 1984, of WPC Yvonne Fletcher, and how events that day shaped the future of UK policing for the next four decades.
On 17th April 2024, it will be forty years since the greatest tragedy and the longest siege in UK policing history. Today, 8th June 2023, sees the publication by Ad Lib of No Ordinary Day.
Below are links to enable you to purchase the book. Matt Johnson and John Murray will also be appearing at CrimeCon on 10th June, at Hatchards, Piccadilly on 27th June and at the Bow Street Museum on 29th June.
No Ordinary Day reveals, for the first time, why two gunmen opened fire on demonstrators outside the Libyan People’s Bureau, how the attack was planned, who carried it out and who gave the orders. And it reveals why, in the aftermath of the attack and with the attackers under siege, the UK Government were so keen to avoid prosecutions and have the perpetrators removed from UK soil.
When God was creating police officers he was into his 6th day of overtime when an angel appeared besides him and said, “Boss, you appear to be having a bit of trouble with this one.”
God replied, “Have you read the job profile for this one? Police Officers have to be able to run for five miles through alleys and fields in the dark, climb walls, enter houses that pest-control people wouldn’t touch and do all this without creasing their uniform or looking dishevelled. They have to be able to sit in an unheated, unmarked police car for at least eight hours without needing a toilet, then stand out in the pouring rain guarding a crime scene that night. Physically, they should be supremely fit, ready to deal with anything at the drop of a hat. And this peak of fitness must be maintained on a diet of black coffee, cola and half eaten hamburgers and pizzas. Oh, and they must have six hands.”
The angel shook her head slowly and said “Six pairs of hands…. isn’t that a bit difficult?”
“It’s not the hands that are causing the problem,” said God, “it’s the three pairs of eyes that they’ve each got to have.”
“Is that on the normal police officer?” asked the angel.
God nodded. “One pair for seeing through bulges in clothing to identify potential threats, a second pair in the side of his head to watch out for the safety of his colleagues and a third set to look reassuringly into the eyes of a badly injured person whilst the mouth convincingly tells the necessary platitudes.”
“God,” said the angel, touching his sleeve, “Perhaps you should rest and carry on working tomorrow?”
“I can’t,” said God, “I have already managed to produce a model that can wrestle a 16 stone belligerent drunk into the back of a small police car without using excessive force and without upsetting anybody else. It is programmed to feed a family of five on an exceptionally low salary.”
The angel slowly walked all round the partly formed police officer and then turned to God and asked, “Can it think?”
“You bet,” said God, “It can recite the definitions of multiple offences, give the caution with no hesitation, detain, investigate, search and arrest violent offenders in the street in less time that it takes for the CPS to debate the legality of his actions…and it retains its sense of humour. This officer also has phenomenal personal control. Dealing with crime scenes that would sicken an abattoir worker, coaxing a confession from a child abuser, comforting the family of a murder victim are part of the job specification. The sad thing is this, that the police officer then has to read in the paper that he is insensitive to the rights of criminal suspects or convicted offenders.”
The angel was quiet for a minute or two before bending over and running her finger across the cheek of the police officer. She looked at her finger and said to God,
“There’s a leak. I told you that you were trying to put too much into one person.”
“That’s not a leak,” said God, “that’s a tear…”
“What’s the tear for?” asked the angel.
“It’s for bottled up emotions, for a multitude of sad sights and occasions, for killed, injured friends and colleagues, for a misplaced faith in humanity, and for an unswerving dedication to duty and truth.”
“You are a genius … a tear,” said the angel.
God looked at the police officer for a minute, turned to the angel and said,
“I didn’t put it there.”
Out tomorrow.
No Ordinary Day – the truth behind the murder of WPC Yvonne Fletcher.
On 8th June this year, Ad Lib will be publishing No Ordinary Day, the long-awaited story of former Met PC John Murray’s 40 year campaign to secure justice for Yvonne’s murder, together with an inside account of the longest siege in UK policing history, of the hostages seized in Libya, of the politics, the diplomacy and what really happened on the day Yvonne Fletcher was killed.
ISBN 9781802471441 ~ Paperback £9.99
‘An important book, especially now – both an intensely personal story, and a sober analysis of a political scandal’ – Lee Child
On 17 April 1984, as police and anti-Gaddafi demonstrators gathered in the street outside the Libyan People’s Bureau in London, they had no way of knowing they were about to become part of one of the greatest tragedies in British policing history. At 10.17am automatic gunfire rained down on them. WPC Yvonne Fletcher was hit in the back and later died from her injuries. Twelve demonstrators were wounded. The gunmen were Libyans, both concealed behind a first-floor window of the Bureau. Two weeks later, all those present inside the Bureau, including everyone suspected of involvement in the attack, were deported from the UK. Men guilty of terrorism and murder were neither arrested nor prosecuted.
Severely injured WPC Yvonne Fletcher being helped by colleagues John Murray, Howard Turner and Pete Rogers.
As Yvonne Fletcher lay dying, her colleague and close friend PC John Murray cradled her in his arms. Before she lost consciousness, he promised her he would not rest until those responsible for her murder had been brought to justice.
Thirty-seven years would pass before John was able to fulfil that promise. Whilst writing John Murray’s story, Matt Johnson identified UK government duplicity, secret service deals and how a plan to finally defeat the all-powerful National Union of Mineworkers would place the government in an invidious position when pro- and anti-Gaddafi elements brought their fight to the streets of the UK. He was able to discover why, in 1984, her killers had been allowed to go free. His extensive research also revealed how events on 17 April resulted in a 30-year government campaign to bring the police services of the UK under political control, a campaign that has driven our police service into the state of disarray we see today.
‘Espionage, betrayal, terrorism, corruption and murder. All the ingredients of a Le Carré novel, only it’s real’ – Matthew Hall, crime writer and screenwriter
The story behind what happened outside the Libyan People’s Bureau is complex, shocking and revealing. Matt Johnson’s compelling account pulls together a series of seemingly unconnected threads into a coherent whole, incorporating all the inter-related elements of politics, business, secret service missions and chance.
For some, this will be a very uncomfortable read. For many, it may confirm what they already suspect, that we, the public, know very little of the decisions being made by our elected representatives and the actions taken by official bodies, supposedly in our best interests.
‘A powerful and timely account of one of the darkest chapters in British policing history’ – John Sutherland, author of Blue, A Memoir
The TV option to No Ordinary Day has been sold and is being developed with a BAFTA award-winning producer.
For further information please contact Ad Lib Publicity Manager Mel Sambells Mel@Mardlebooks.com
One day, at one of our law schools, a learned professor walked into a lecture hall ready to address a large assembly of law students.
He looked around.
“You there in the 8th row. Can you tell me your name?” he said, pointing to one student.
“My name is Sandra” she replied.
The professor turned and indicated the exit. “Please leave the hall,” he said. “I don’t want to see you in my lecture.”
Everyone remained quiet, stunned by the unexpected development. The student, although clearly irritated, slowly packed her things and stood up.
“Faster please,” the Professor called to her, impatiently.
Meekly, her head bowed, the female student left the lecture hall.
The professor kept looking around.
The remaining students appeared scared. Some glanced at their friends, uncertain what had happened or whether they too had transgressed in some way and would suffer a similar fate
“Why are there laws?” the Professor said, as the students settled down.
There was no response to the question. Once more, students looked at each other. Some lowered their heads, seemingly concentrating on their note books, desperate not to incur the wrath of this unpredictable tutor.
“What are laws for?” the Professor asked again.
“Social order,” came a tentative voice from the back row
Another brave student spoke up. “To protect a person’s personal rights,.” she called out.
“So that you can rely on the state,” said another voice.
The professor appeared unmoved.
“Justice,” called out a student from the anonymous centre of the assembly.
The professor smiled.
“Thank you very much, ” he said. “Tell me. Did I behave unfairly towards your classmate?”
Everyone nodded.
“Indeed I did,” he continued. “So, why didn’t anyone protest? Why didn’t any of you try to stop me? Why didn’t you want to prevent this injustice?” he demanded.
Nobody answered.
The Professor smiled again. “What you have just learned, you wouldn’t have understood in a thousand hours of lectures if you hadn’t lived it. Despite the apparent injustice, you didn’t say anything on behalf of your fellow student because you weren’t affected yourself. This attitude speaks against us and against life. People generally think as long as it doesn’t concern them, it’s none of their business. I’m telling you, if you don’t say anything today and don’t bring about justice, then one day you too will experience injustice and no one will stand up for you. Justice doesn’t just exist. We have to fight for it.”
“In life and at work, we often live next to each other instead of with each other. We console ourselves that the problems of others are none of our business. We go home and are glad we were spared. Justice is about standing up for others. Every day an injustice happens somewhere, in public and in private. Relying on someone else to sort it out is not enough. It is our duty to be there for others. Speaking for others when they cannot.”
The Professor then asked the ejected student, who had been party to the his ruse, to return to the lecture hall.
This was a simple lesson, to young lawyers who’s role it would become to speak up for others. There is a lesson here for society, however. It’s one we fail to heed at our peril.
It begins as a fight for justice. It will end as a battle for survival.
When Detective Inspector Robert Finlay is sent to a military barracks to investigate a connection to weapons discovered in the possession of London gangsters, he is given strict instructions not to get involved in a suicide enquiry into the recent death of a young, recruit soldier.
The army partners Finlay with Floria McLaren, an ambitious military policewoman who doesn’t believe the death was a suicide. Ellie Rodgers is a traumatised army officer who discovers the existence of a cabal of soldiers who exploit young recruits for sexual and criminal purposes. Jodie Baker is the plaything of a devious and narcissistic training sergeant. Wendy Russell is a senior police officer with an undercover agent gone missing.
What appears to be a routine investigation soon takes on a life of its own as Finlay finds himself in a struggle with powerful forces – both criminal and from the military establishment – who know that, inside the wire, they make the rules.
Quotes for CROW 27
“I thoroughly enjoyed Crow 27. Matt Johnson’s detailed research, in-depth knowledge and ability to tell a brilliant story combine to create an important work of fiction. A must read.” – Johnny Mercer.
“Emergency or armed services, no matter the uniform, if you served or know someone who served, you should read this story.” – Chris Ryan MM.
“A gripping read I can thoroughly recommend. I read this book with great interest; it has a real aura of reality and illustrates the difficulties faced by an investigating officer in such circumstances.” – Lord Stevens, former Commissioner, Metropolitan Police.
The picture displays the front cover of my new book and some of the quotes from people who have read it. Lord Stevens is John Stevens, the former Met Commissioner. The names Chris Ryan, Peter James and Matthew Hall should be well known to you. The jacket quotes from Johnny Mercer and Damien Lewis were unexpected and generous, decisions by them I am very grateful for.
It’s been some considerable time since I wrote a post for this blog and, during that period, we’ve seen events unfolding around the world that none of us would have predicted. As many writers before me have said, you couldn’t have made it up, and if you had, no publisher would have printed it.
Publish and be damned I’ve come to realise is an outdated expression from a time when editors were braver and publishers less cost conscious. Stories of incredible, unbelievable world events aren’t the only stories that struggle to get published. Stories that can’t easily be boxed into a particular genre, stories that don’t easily align with a publisher’s reader demographic. Stories that push boundaries. Publishing such novels involves risk, something the commercial world of publishing is increasingly constrained from embracing.
Today, I’m going to explain how Crow 27 came into existence and the challenges I experienced trying to get this particular story out there. This isn’t a short blog and for that, I apologise. But I hope you’ll bear with me and read on.
Some years ago, during a crime fiction literary event at Deal in Kent, I was one of a panel of authors answering questions from an audience of around two hundred people. We were asked by one audience member to identify a subject not covered in crime fiction that we thought crime writers should be tackling. I spoke about criminality in the armed services and the impunity with which some criminals operate behind the wire of some military camps. I briefly described what I knew of the abuse, bullying and sexual exploitation, mostly – but not exclusively – of young women soldiers and the failure of the Ministry of Defence (MOD) and the Army to effectively address the problem. I spoke of the levels of unreported crime, of the lack of victim confidence in a system that has been demonstrated time and again to be loaded against them. When I finished speaking, there was a surprisingly long and enthusiastic period of applause. Deal, of course, remains a town with a significant military interest but I knew then, this was a subject I needed to write about one day.
Not long after beginning to research the topic, I was invited to an event for military veterans when I met Tina, a former army Captain who had served at Deepcut training barracks in Surrey at a time when several young recruits died, supposedly as a result of suicides. You may recall the BBC Panorama documentary ‘Bullied to Death‘ that first exposed the number of questionable suicides of young soldiers that had occurred at Deepcut in the late 90s and early 2000s.
Tina told me her story, something she had kept to herself for many years, partly due to the severe mental illness she experienced as a result and partly due to a non-disclosure agreement (NDA) the MOD insisted she sign before she was medically discharged from the army.
One night, after leaving an officer’s mess at a barracks in Germany, Tina walked to her accommodation. She was drunk, the evening having been spent with her fellow junior officers in the bar at the mess. Arriving at her room, she threw her clothes onto the floor, lay down on the bed and fell asleep. A short while later, she was disturbed by a noise in her room. She woke to find a man on top of her. He was wearing a balaclava mask and he ordered Tina to keep quiet or he would use the bayonet he was carrying to kill her.
Tina was raped and subject to a series of degrading sexual assaults. Her attacker was an NCO, a sergeant from the same camp she was posted to. He was caught soon afterwards. At his trial, he maintained his innocence, claiming what had happened had been consensual. The military trial was presided over by a male judge and the entire jury was made up of male army officers. The sergeant was acquitted.
Tina sued the MOD. She was offered an out of court settlement provided she signed an NDA. By this time, she had been posted to Deepcut barracks. One day, she was in her office when the sergeant who had attacked her appeared in the same building. Despite promises to the contrary from the army, he had been posted to the same camp as her. Tina had a breakdown and was admitted to hospital. She suffered psychosis, PTSD and chronic depression. She never recovered. In 2019, while helping me write a novel inspired by her experience, she died of a heart attack brought on by the medication she had been taking for her psychosis. She was just forty-two years old. She left a young son. After her death, her family asked me to write a eulogy to be read at her funeral. It was an honour to do so. The funeral was attended by several hundred people, many of whom were friends of Tina’s and members of ‘The Sisterhood’, a secretive – although not secret – support group of women soldiers I learned now numbers several thousand serving and retired servicewomen.
Later, I met Anna. Anna is now in her forties and spent many months at Deepcut barracks as a recruit soldier in the late 1990s. During this time, Anna was the subject of a great deal of attention from non-commissioned officers who were supposed to be supervising her and her fellow recruits but seemed more interested in bedding them. Anna came in for a lot of attention because she was particularly attractive and because she resisted the overtures of the NCOs. One week, Anna’s closest recruit friend unexpectedly failed a physical fitness test that would see her discharged from the army. Anna’s friend was devastated. Anna was then approached by the NCO responsible for her friend’s failure. It was made clear to Anna that the failure was a set up. The deal on offer was the result for her friend would be changed to a pass provided Anna would agree to sleep with the NCO. Anna reluctantly agreed. She was raped and sexually humiliated. The rape was filmed and then used to blackmail her into doing the same for other NCOs. Only when they became bored with her did they allow her a posting away to a new Regiment abroad.
Anna had never revealed her story to anyone before me. Her friend does not know what was done for her. She is aware the friend is likely to read Crow 27, will recognise the scenario and will know. Anna understands that and told me it will be worth it in order that people know the truth.
And then, at a conference I’d been invited to speak at on the subject of slave trafficking, I found myself sitting with a man called Paul Kenyon. Paul asked me about future writing projects and I told him what I was working on. It was then he revealed he was a BBC Producer and had been part of the team that produced ‘Bullied to Death’. He offered to introduce me to Jane MacSorley, the Director of that Panorama programme. It was as if fate had leant a hand.
Background – is this a contemporary issue or old news?
Although Crow 27 is set in 2005, the issue of abuse, bullying and sexual exploitation of recruit soldiers remains a problem for the British Army of 2022. Sadly, little has changed and, until sufficient pressure is placed on those with the power to introduce real change, until the public are fully aware of what goes on behind the wire, it’s certain nothing will. In 2016, the UK Government introduced the Service Complaints Ombudsman for the Armed Forces to replace the office of the Service Complaints Commissioner who produced annual reports but had far fewer powers. In each annual report since then, the Ombudsman has expressed concern at the over-representation of BAME people and women in the Armed Forces in the complaints system and the possible causes. In her first annual report of 2016, the Ombudsman said this –
The Ombudsman is concerned about the continued overrepresentation of both female and Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic (BAME) Service personnel in the Service complaints system Tri-Service. The disproportionate representation of female and BAME personnel as complainants (21% and 10%) compared to representation in the Armed Forces (11% and 7%) not only continued for the third consecutive year, but actually increased for female personnel. Bullying, discrimination and harassment were more commonly the cause of complaints for these groups.
The Ombudsman also recommended the Ministry of Defence (MoD) commission a study by the end of April 2018 to determine the root causes of the overrepresentation of female and BAME personnel in the Service complaints system and that appropriate action was taken to try and redress the situation by the end of December 2018, including putting the appropriate support mechanisms in place. The MoD failed to act on that recommendation. In her 2020 report the Ombudsman wrote this in her report:
‘’Female personnel had nearly twice the rate of Service Complaints than males. Although this over-representation was found in all complaint categories, it was primarily driven by bullying, harassment or discrimination. The rate at which female Service personnel raised bullying, harassment or discrimination Service Complaints was four times larger than the equivalent figure for male Service personnel. The rate of reported bullying, harassment or discrimination Service Complaints by female personnel has not changed by a significant amount in the last three years.
In 2022, the Army conducted a survey of soldiers that revealed there had been an observable increase in the reporting of targeted sexualised behaviours, behaviours that include coercive sexual favours and assault. Especially shocking was the proportion of service personnel saying they had suffered a ‘particularly upsetting experience’, which has significantly increased since previous surveys in 2015 and 2018. In 2018, 15% of servicewomen reported a particularly upsetting experience (already an increase from the previous survey in 2015). In 2022, 35% of servicewomen reported a particularly upsetting experience in the previous 12 months. The figure for men is 13% (up from 2% from the previous survey), also a huge increase.
The reason for this is unlikely to be increased confidence in reporting because, as the survey shows, those people are not in fact reporting these experiences, they are disclosing them to an anonymous survey. The explanation, of course, is that things are getting worse, not better. Lots of the behaviours categorised as a ‘particularly upsetting experience’ are criminal offences. They include sending unwanted sexually explicit material, revenge porn and sexual assaults. They range from unwanted sexual touching to rape. The proportion disclosing rape doubled from 2% in 2018, to 4% in the 2022 survey. The vast majority (65%) reported not having told anyone of their experience. The survey noted, ‘there still seem to be significant barriers to reporting sexual harassment, including ‘the perceived negative repercussions of making a complaint’. In 77% of reported examples, the perpetrator was male. Sexualised misbehaviour remains a common experience in the Army with women far more likely to experience it than men.
So, there we have it. It’s the reality behind the formation of the Centre for Military Justice, behind the Liberty campaign, behind the Government Select Committee inquiry and behind the bravery of those who were prepared to tell me what had happened to them while serving.
Crow 27 was inspired the experiences of Tina, Anna and others with similar tales, and by their bravery in being prepared to tell me their stories. While researching and writing, I met and spoke to many young men and women who described shocking, life-changing experiences that occurred during their formative months as soldiers. On several occasions, I nearly stopped, so ugly and upsetting were the stories of bullying, sexual abuse and similar behaviours. The responsibility to represent their accounts, authentically and with honesty, weighed heavily on my shoulders.
During the research phase of the book, I was advised by several contributors that I would struggle to persuade a publisher to invest in this story. The explanations for that view were varied. Some considered that fear of the MOD would inhibit, others thought it unlikely to be thought of as a contemporary issue – this type of thing doesn’t still go on, does it? One or two thought the simple reality of commercial viability would see publishers concluding that a story about the abuse of young, female soldiers wasn’t likely to sell.
They were right. Although feedback and comment on the quality of the story was excellent with one editor describing the book as the best exposé he’d read since Heart of Darkness, commercial opinion on the subject matter was exactly as predicted – the story wouldn’t sell books.
Faced with this level of rejection, I went through a period of reflection. I didn’t write this story to sell large numbers of books. I wrote it for the victims, so their stories would be known. I wrote it to expose the reality of what happens behind the wire. I wrote it so that people who read the content would learn about it and understand. For this reason, I’ve decided to follow a path many writers have been advocating on social media for some considerable time, to become an indie publisher, a hybrid author.
During the last few weeks, I’ve negotiated a steep learning curve in the use of MS Word, typesetting, jacket design and the use of picture editing software. It’s been fun, and seeing the result of your work appear in digitalised proof formats has proved to be an exciting experience. Will it work? Who knows. What I can say is Crow 27 will be published later this month through Amazon. As soon as it’s live, I will share the link with you.
If you’re reading this, there’s a good chance it’s as a result of seeing the post on the Facebook ‘Campaign for justice for WPC Yvonne Fletcher’ page and you’ve followed the link. If not, no matter. The fact you’ve landed here is enough for us to say thank-you.
On 17th April, 1984, Yvonne was helping to police a demonstration outside the Libyan People’s Bureau in central London. She was shot in the back by someone who opened a window in that building and then fired a machine gun at the crowd. The photograph above was taken very soon afterwards. Cradling Yvonne is PC John Murray.
John accompanied Yvonne to hospital in the ambulance. She was still conscious at this time and, rather than complain and focus on her own extraordinarily painful wounds, she did her best to give reassurance to those other casualties who were also being transported – many of whom had life-changing injuries.
In the ambulance, while talking to Yvonne, John made a promise to her; that he would not rest until whoever had shot her had been brought to justice.
At the hospital, John waited patiently while Yvonne was in surgery. He was the first to receive the news of her death.
Thirty-seven years on, with all criminal avenues of prosecution seemingly now exhausted, John is close to fulfilling his promise.
John needs your help.
Late in 2021, John will be pursuing a private civil action against a man alleged to have been part of the conspiracy to murder Yvonne Fletcher.
This is John’s final chance, the last throw of the dice in what has been a long and arduous campaign. John has taken immense personal risk, both physically and financially, to reach this point. He’s not suing the perpetrator for money, he’s suing for £1. It’s a symbolic amount but it means, if he wins, there is a finding against someone responsible for Yvonne’s death.
The news this week that the Police Federation (PFEW) will be supporting John’s action came as a tremendous lift. But, John’s need for help doesn’t end there. He could lose. If he does, the PFEW can’t cover any claim for costs made by his opponents. John’s lawyers set up a Crowd Justice campaign which, to date, has raised £36K. But, this amount (and any more added to it) will be deducted from any contribution the PFEW make to John’s legal costs.
John is not wealthy. He has a £60K costs protection limit order in place, but that’s still a huge risk for him to be taking.
You can help. We’re asking for something unusual. We’re asking you to contribute to the costs John has personally incurred travelling to Libya, interviewing witnesses and all the associated costs this has involved reaching this point. We don’t want you to contribute to the cost of the court case – that is being covered by the PFEW and CrowdJustice fund.
On the day Yvonne was killed, she was just 25-years old. So, we’re asking that on 17th April, 2021, you donate £25 to John. The Facebook Campaign page has nearly six-thousand followers. If everyone pitches in …
The details of the account are as follows
Bank; HSBC
Account name; Justice 4 Yvonne
Sort code; 40-24-13
A/c number; 51720422
On 17th April for payment, don’t forget. Make sure to tick the ‘business’ box when setting up the payment. This account is administered by the Campaign support team.
It’s also important to note, John didn’t ask for this request. He doesn’t know it’s going out. It will be a surprise, we hope a good one. And we hope, like us, you will use this opportunity to say thanks to him for the efforts he has put in to ensure justice for a fallen colleague. A promise never forgotten.
Let’s give John a surprise. Let’s show him we care too.
John Murray at the memorial to Yvonne Fletcher in St James’s Square, London.
In the last twenty-four hours, over a quarter of a million people have read the ‘I’m done‘ post. One cop wrote to me anonymously. These are their words.
I’m done too.
I’m done with the self-appointed monitors of policing who feel it’s their place to photograph, video and (sometimes) selectively edit recordings of police doing their jobs. I’m done with people who misrepresent the truth for publicity, to self-promote and, sometimes, for mischief. I’m tired of people who value ‘likes’ on their chosen social media platform above helping a lone officer struggling to detain a violent person. I’m done with the cowards in society who would rather film a cop being beaten up than pitch in to help him or her. I’m done with people who ‘know their rights’ and who consider that (often mistaken) knowledge is sufficient justification to kick, punch and spit at police officers.
I’m done with people who tell us to do more stop-and-search in response to escalating knife crime but who then criticise us when the criminals who get caught as a result bleat about having their civil rights breached.
I’m done with criminals using the complaints system and legal process to intimidate hard working cops. Yes, that is what happens. Criminals use both to try and make it easier to continue with their activities, uninterrupted. And I’m done with the payouts made to criminals because our legal system has created a situation where firms of lawyers can tout for business, encourage civil actions and know their clients will get paid out because it’s actually cheaper for the police to do that than fight the case – regardless of the result.
I’m done with an organisation where the policy is to punish rather than forgive, to discipline rather than teach. I’m done with fearing if I make a mistake that I will be punished rather than have my employers accept I hadn’t been taught or trained as well as I should have been. And, while I’m on that subject, I’m angry too. I’m angry that Hendon, the flagship of police training, has been demolished and sold off to developers. That the swimming pool where officers were taught life-saving techniques is now gone. That the sports facilities, the gymnasiums, the canteens, even the police stations themselves are all gone. The police section houses are gone. Even New Scotland Yard was demolished and the site sold.
I’m done with being photographed and criticised – sometimes, even fined – for using a public cafe to eat when all the police canteens have gone. I’m done with having to travel across London to one of the few remaining custody suites where prisoners can be processed and where we have to wait in a huge queue to have a detained person booked in. I’m done with being asked by my supervisors not to arrest people because that means I will be off the ground, unavailable and the calls will soon build up.
I’m tired of trying to do the job to a standard the public has a right to expect but that forty-thousand more us used to be available to do. Think about that for a minute. Forty-thousand less police officers in the UK than there were ten years ago. And all because one Home Secretary considered the ‘role of the police is to fight crime, nothing more, nothing less.’ So, when I’m directing traffic, helping someone find their lost child, trying to find a missing person, supervising a demonstration or football crowd, or many of the other non-crime related roles that fall to the police, I’m reminded that one politician decided society needed less cops.
But, you know what? I’m not so tired I’m about to give up. Because I still believe in working for a better society. The reasons I became a police officer are still valid. I still want to help people. I still want to put bad people behind bars. Policing has to be accountable, I don’t know of a single colleague who doesn’t agree with that. But what I do ask is to be given the tools, the facilities, the support and the means to be able to do my job. Is that too much to ask?
Because being a cop is far more than simply fighting crime.
Thank you for taking the time to read these posts. Whether they will do any good remains to be seen. But, as we read above, police morale is dented but not beaten.
I was taught, way back in 1978, about the meaning of the word ‘police. It means, ‘generally, the arrangements made in all civilised countries to ensure the inhabitants keep the peace and obey the law. It also denotes for force of peace officers, or police, employed for this purpose.’ If I recall correctly, those were the opening words from the police instruction manual of the time.Members of our police services are members of the public one day, a cop the next. Our police services police with our consent, not by coercion, as we see too often around the world. That places us in a very fortunate situation but it is one that comes with responsibilities. If we want our police to function, their role must be supported, not weakened. Because if we weaken it by too much, we are on the road to anarchy. And then we may see a style of policing result that has happened abroad and which we must not countenance here.
And, while you’re here. Can I make a special request. I’m helping an old colleague pursue a murder case. It happened in 1984 and involved the shooting of a serving WPC. You may remember it. Her name was Yvonne Fletcher. This is a link to a crowdfunding page. If you’d like to help a veteran cop secure justice for a fallen friend, please consider donating a few quid. If he reaches his target, it’ll certainly go a long way toward reminding those on the thin blue line that they are supported. We do have their backs.
Matt Johnson 