Another Constable

One of the worst parts of our job is delivering death messages. They can come in a couple of different formats, and each requires a different type of copper to deliver the message. The worst ones are when someone has been murdered or something like that. We have officers that have had special training called Family Liaison Officers (FLO’s) who may well be called upon to deliver that message, but more importantly the FLO will then be the direct point of contact throughout the ordeal for the bereaved family. Likewise, when there are horrible road traffic collisions, traffic cops (or Roads Policing as they now like to be known) also have FLO’s amongst their ranks to deliver the messages.

For simple things like a request from a hospital to try and locate next of kin for someone that has died suddenly, or maybe requests from other police forces when the next of kin lives the other end of the country, it’s usually just dished out to the next available patrol. We get no special training for this, just a half hour input that involves such nuggets of common sense as be direct but sensitive, don’t flower it up or fanny about, be professional and be supportive. No waltzing in with lines like “Hello mate, we’ve come about your late wife” or “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, I know people dread when the police come knocking it can only be one or two things, and I’m afraid it’s one of those times… you see your husband has had an accident and I’m afraid it’s not good news. He was getting his hair cut you see and the electric shavers dropped into the bowl next to him where he has just had his hair washed, and wouldn’t you know they were plugged in and there was this big bang, frightened the life out of everyone in the shop. Well, your husband fell out of his chair and people thought he was having a laugh but turns out he was dead”.

“Mr Smith? Mind if we come in for a minute? I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your wife has died of a heart attack whilst at work today” - not particularly poetic but gets the job done without dragging it out. I think I generally do better than that.. and I’m a caring supportive type. I have heard of Bobbies being shoo-ed out of a house upon delivering such news though.

I’ve not had to deliver many death messages in my time, but those I have done went well enough given the circumstances. We’ve all been told the story of the probationer upon delivering his first death message had the husband running up and down the hallway cheering when he heard his wife had died. Or the one who delivered the death message to the husband saying the wife was dead, and mid message the wife walks in fine and dandy - he should have knocked next door. All sorts of “death message” horror stories exist. Whether they are old wives tales to brighten the lesson who knows? One thing does stick with me though, and that was a video of a lady who says that the only thing she can remember about the day she was told her husband had died was that the copper had no hat or tie on, looked really scruffy, and behaved like he couldn’t wait to leave. She can’t remember a thing about their conversation, what was said, how it was said - all she can remember was that a copper looking like a bag of shite had told her that her husband was dead. I’ve never let my standards slip like that.

This week it fell on me to deliver a death message. The same message, a number of times, to various family members. What made it all the more harder was that I was delivering it to my own family. I’m glad that the little input I did get from the Police, and the minute experience I have at it stood me in good stead. “Be direct” was foremost in my mind. We knew it was coming, and that helped a little too but I was a whole lot more involved in the process than I would normally be. I guess I found out a bit more about how it feels like from the other side of the fence. It’s also made me appreciate how numb people are upon hearing bad news, and how simple information just doesn’t sink in. Many questions need to be answered, and sometimes repeatedly answered, as the shock seems to reduce short term memory. I certainly have a greater understanding of how people react to such bad news, and an insight into what I can do to ease the receipt of such messages.

My blog has been taking a back seat in my life for the last year as you can probably tell from the infrequency of my postings, but I would like to say that it was due to family circumstance rather than bone idleness. I do enjoy writing about my antics at work, and I plan to continue, but I hope you can forgive my lack of prolificness (not sure that’s a word but my spellchecker seems to think so.. I was going for prolificacy which is now proudly emblazoned in red!) I would expect that the next few weeks will bring little in the way of postings, but who knows, I may find it’s good therapy. I seem to only be posting things lately that are likely to “out” me amongst my colleagues. There can’t be many coppers out there whose mate has been shot on duty and whose mum has died within a matter of weeks. Discovery of my identity is about the last thing I care of at the moment though. Let’s hope the rest of t