WßD ~ Part Two Chapter 5 ~ "Class of 96" by Desmond B Webb

Windsor Street Days

Part Two

Chapter Seven

Class of Ninety-Six

JOINING THE police force meant that applicants must first satisfy the authorities as to their suitability by meeting the standards of an educational qualification based on a generalisation of the subjects taught in the schools.

This was followed by a medical examination, and in the particular police force I was hoping to join, the minimum height for applicants was set at 5 feet 9 ½ inches (176 cm). This was later reduced to 5’9” (175cm). For applicants wishing to join the Metropolitan Police the height standard has been completely abolished. Their height requirements had been a minimum of 5’8” (172.72cm)

I was accepted, and joined the Gloucestershire Constabulary on 30th October 1950, commencing my thirteen-week initial training at a police training establishment in Nottinghamshire. I was highly satisfied with becoming the top male student from a course of 96 officers but was beaten for the top award by a policewoman who, later in her career, became a police commissioner in one of our colonial police forces.

Gloucestershire Constabulary leather bound Register of Enrolment as Warranted Constables - my entry being 5029 on 30th October 1950

Upon returning to Cheltenham I was engaged on a further two week local knowledge course before taking up my introduction to the beat (foot patrol) as a newly-pledged probationary constable.

With Constable 548 Arthur John Griffin. The wonderful thing about this photograph is that neither of us knew at that time that 22 years on from this day, John would be a very helpful Mentor in my son’s burgeoning career as a police officer at Cheltenham Central

This involved working a daily eight-hour shift with each day of any one week commencing either at 6am ‘early turn’, 2pm ‘late turn’ or ‘two-til-ten’, or 10pm ‘nights’. Occasionally I would work from 6pm to 2am ‘evenings’.

After a few months I was posted to a police station near where I was living where, similar as that as depicted in the popular television series, Heartbeat, I was one of three constables, supervised by a sergeant. These were happy times for me; and I have many memories of incidents from that period of my career.

...and then there were three ...

Early in 1952 Nancy and I decided it would be preferable to seek alternative accommodation, since the birth of our daughter Carol on the 30th March 1950, together with my various shifts and the copious demands of the washtub, did little to enhance the harmony of two generations living under the same roof!

It was only fair to my parents-in-law that they should be given back the space which they readily surrendered on our marriage. Again, we are fortunate in the generosity and understanding exercised by family unity, for it was this feature that brought about the availability of rented rooms in the attic above Arthur’s home at Number Twenty Windsor Street, which was conveniently positioned directly opposite the house where I was born and my parents were still living: Number Twenty-Five.

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As I say, these were happy years and there are humorous stories surrounding the antics of the family pets at that time. There was Sue, Arthur’s dog, Kim - our dog - who had been one of Sue’s puppies, and Simon, my parents’ dog who lived opposite, and had been rescued from the local animal shelter. For many years there existed the mystery as to why Simon did not show any particular love towards our daughter Carol.

Then one day, in reply to this query raised by Nancy, Carol exclaimed to her mother:…

“Well, you know the crusts of bread that Grandma Webb used to give him, I used to take them from him. He always used to growl at me after that”.

Nancy remembers the mischievous smile that accompanied this admission.

At Roman Road Infants School 1955-56

But Carol must have learned something from these episodes, because since then she has experienced the love and bonding achieved from owning her treasured Brandy who was to produce several offspring. Some of these went to immediate members of the family.

There was Toby (Tobias) who went to Arthur and Bette, and from his first birthday right up to his 10th year had his photograph taken on each birthday with cake and lit candle for suitably marking the occasion. Then there was Blister who went to John and Susan who now live in Essex, but a frequent visitor to Cheltenham, and who loved to go to Cowley where he was born. It was obvious from his behaviour that he recognised this to be his place of birth, and it has been known for him to to get terribly excited when he meets and greets Carol. He has been known to wet himself with excitement!

Charlie, Blister’s brother went to Keith and Heather Beardsley who lived just outside Cheltenham. He, too, was a frequent visitor to Cowley and on several occasions spent a holiday there when Keith and Heather went abroad. He was such a lovely dog – well they all were; and I know that my twin-granddaughters, Suzie and Caroline, loved to see them whenever they had the chance, Vanessa - my younger daughter - and Steve travelling up with the girls from Winchester where they lived, in the beautiful County of Hampshire.

In 1956 I was allocated our first police accommodation at Number Eight Orchard Terrace on the Libertus Road, having been on the waiting list for six years. This was a thrilling time for Nancy and me, but we cherish the memories of our past years at Elmfield Road and latterly Windsor Street.

Yes, life was good to us! The war was over, and Nancy and I were coming to terms with the loss of our brothers Harry and Ken. It is a curious observation ... but we have often surmised over the decades, that this mutual loss became our mutual gain – in and for each other. Now, an exciting career lay ahead, about more of which in my next chapter.

Great pride is felt when I look at my father - second on the left - because I had the privilege of serving with all four officers; and many a time, Dad’s three colleagues ‘touched the rudder’ and did much to advance my own police career. As with the Royal Air Force, so with the Constabulary. There is a sense of standing shoulder to shoulder … a sense of family. And that is deeply ingrained even though there is now a hint of sadness that I alone carry my father’s name and then it will end. But hey ho! Life goes on. Only in later years when coming across these photographs, does that touching the rudder take on a heightened meaning. KTW

What is now dress uniform, then was standard uniform and remained so, well into the 1980s.

Now, as an Inspector of Police, Traffic Division, in service dress escorting my wife Nancy to a Force Dining-in-Night.

by

Desmond B Webb

Windsor Street - Pittville - Bishops Cleeve - Bredons Hardwick - Toddington - Brambridge

It must have been a day of great excitement at Numbers 25 and 20 Windsor Street on the day the letter of acceptance arrived at 36 Elmfield, that my father had been successful, and was to become a police constable in the Gloucestershire Constabulary. It seems to me that today it would be neither here nor there, more a sense of relief that one has a job to tie oneself over for a few years.

In 1950, and even in 1970-1972, appointment was very much the exception to the rule.

It was also a lifetime commitment.

I signed up in the full knowledge that I was intent on serving for 30 years, and if I attained senior rank, it might even extend beyond that.

I remember the sense of awe upon being accepted as a regular police cadet in 1970.

I remember, too, the day I arrived home, for the first time in uniform. Dad was in uniform too.

Dad called out, “Ken’s here Nance!”

“Oh I’d better get the kettle on.”

Then my father said, “You go on in Ken …”

I felt a bit nervous - like you do - I opened the lounge door and there was Mum, suddenly frozen on the spot, staring and then a tiny shriek, stepping back suddenly … hands up to cheeks and bursting into tears …

“Oh Ken! It’s you. I thought it was your Dad!! You look just like he did the first time I saw him in his uniform!!!”

Well, we had a huge hug. And then Dad walked in, beaming, and, as Mum put it, “I seem to have the whole police force in here!” and bearing in mind, I was 6’3”, Dad was 6’1” and Mum was 5’3”!!!!

© KTW 2025

Typical, wonderful, family life … this is what makes the world go round!

This page from my old photograph album tells quite a story, and it is a lovely family story repeated countless times all around the world in every generation in every way possible.

This records the acquisition of four wheels. I’d passed the test in 1970 at age 17, Dad having taught me “the police system of driving.” I was honoured. very! I see that my note dated 27 May 2018 is in five parts. I am infamous for my ‘alternate routes’ as I see here with my paragraphs going on a little journey of their own. So, here goes.

Two different occasions. The first is my pride and joy ~ my Hillman Minx 3150 FH in 1971. A month earlier I had ‘nicked’ ~ taken without consent TWOC!! (an arrestable offence) Dad’s brand new white Vauxhall Viva (in the second photograph) to go to the police station one Saturday for the Annual Cadet Reception, and solely to impress the girls. I did. But I did not impress Dad who’d been asleep after nightshift.

On return, my darling sissie Ness said “Dad wants to see you. You’re in EVER such a lot of trouble!”

The upshot? Dad chatted with Uncle Arthur; and Uncle Arthur and Aunt Bette loaned me £65 interest free over two years to purchase 3150 FH from Wing Commander Draper.

Charles Draper worked for Uncle at his firm INDUCTOHEAT.

On taking delivery I had a Rolls Royce and we all went to the Apple Tree to celebrate. Famous, nay infamous, quote from NESS:

Mum! We’re not going in THAT are we? I mean t’s nice for Ken but it’s got holes in it and rust and people will think it’s OUR “family” car!

Oh dear! hahaha. Ken 27 5/18.

Over the decades we often have many laughs about that.

Sissie

Oh no, I didn’t say that. You imagined it, Pike!! hahahaha

21 June 2025
All Rights Reserved

© 2025 Kenneth Thomas Webb

First written 10 June 2020