It's a sad state of affairs when your governor introduces your training session with the words:

"I'm afraid this is a rubbish package, guys."

Five hours later, we are forced to agree with him as we leave the training room with no better understanding of the Fraud Act than when we entered. As the Act has been live for several months without any training on it whatsoever, this is nothing to mourn.

Moreover, we depart fully trained that it is not acceptable to smoke anywhere on police premises, except in custody where we can join the prisoners in the yard (to prevent THEM smoking would be a breach of human rights, you see). I don't smoke, but as we all know it is the prerogative of the Twenty-First Century Police Officer to be outraged at the introduction of any new rule, no matter how little it affects him or her. If several hours of moaning and three emails can be added to the outrage, all the better.

On the bright side, over the next few weeks I can expect to be extracted regularly from my duties of running after my own tail to sit in a yellow jacket in the back of the transit. The purpose: to reassure people and use up the force budget of free sandwiches.

Terrorism has its advantages.

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