Sending up the Balloon

As a front-line sergeant, you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.  Yes, technically it's the inspector who picks up the phone to the Duty Superintendent with the words, "Er, sorry to wake you, sir, but..."

But the sergeant has already phoned the inspector, and given him/her no choice but to make the call.  Learning when to call the inspector is what being a sergeant is all about.  In fact, it's what being a police officer is all about.  It's the words:

• "I'm not entirely happy about this missing woman, gov."
• "Boss, I know we've had twelve other disgruntled boyfriends text their other halfs tonight telling them that they've got a can of petrol and a lighter and are on their way round, but this one means it."
• "I don't think we've heard the last from them tonight.  Can we get a few extra bodies from the late turn to work some overtime?" 

Believe it or not, none of the above phrases can be taught during a diversity seminar.  Nor are they found on the six-page domestic risk assessment form that gets filled in several times a shift.  They aren't contained within the threats-to-life policy, and there's no board question to which they are the answer.

When I started Acting, my inspector had less than a little faith in me.  If I called concerned about a missing teenager, he/she was "just out on the razz with some friends".  If it was a domestic where he was on his way back to get her, they were "just tiffing".  If I turned up for work to find just three souls in the briefing room waiting for me, and made a fuss to the senior management about staffing levels, I was "showing my inexperience". 

"Oh, bloody hell, Bloggsy, not again!"

Looking back, perhaps my governor had a point, some of the time.  But if I've known one thing from the moment I started this job, it's that it's better to send up the balloon and be wrong, than the other way around.

Because with the balloon, you get dogs, helicopters, PCSOs, mobile phone triangulation and Scenes of Crime call-out.  You get DSs and DIs, Underwater Search Team and transits from the west of the force.  Those are things that don't do you much good an hour after the event, when you realise that the suitcase the missing girl packed to run away with actually contains her dead body.

 

 "Man down."





Of course, you might also get an email saying that perhaps APS Bloggs should check under the child's bed before dialling the number for the CRA.  Or if she could look at the CCTV for where the supposed madman with the gun was seen, she might notice that the gun bounced when it was dropped.  I've been responsible for my share of fervent, unnecessary panics, but I haven't had an email like that for a while.

Now, I'm no longer "Acting" Sergeant, and when I send up the balloon, people tend to take note, and send me what I need.

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'Diary of an On-Call Girl' is available in some bookstores and online.