Gotta run-- wish I had a motorcycle. More later this afternoon.

~S~

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WHERE ARE POLICEMEN WHEN YOU NEED ONE?

1. Sergeant-Major Green turned his motorcycle from the road and on to the concrete apron at the front of the motor-pool workshops, coming to a stop in front of the bay in which I was working.

2. Pulling his machine onto its kickstand, he strode toward me removing his helmet.

3. "Good morning, Hart," he smiled. "How are things with you today?"

4. "Alright, Sergeant," I answered, trying to keep suspicion out of my voice. I was sure he hadn't made the ride from Regimental Police Headquarters just to ask me how I was. I didn't have long to wait.

5. "I've been notified that I must get my bike inspected today," he said.

6. I looked at my worksheet for the day. "That's right, Sgt. Green."

7. "Unfortunately I haven't had time to properly clean it," he continued, "and I've already had two bad reports in a row." Do you think you could help me out?"

8. So that was why he was being so nice to me.

9. In the British Army at that time, all vehicles were signed out to their drivers, who were responsible for keeping them clean and neat. Once a month, every conveyance in the regiment had to undergo a mechanical inspection and cleanliness check by the workshop mechanics, of which I was now one. Three negative cleanliness reports resulted in the vehicle being taken from its driver and signed out to another.

10. "I can't lie about your motorcycle's condition on the report, Sergeant-Major, you can understand that," I answered, while taking another look at my worksheet. Sgt. Green's face fell; he really didn't want to lose his personal transportation.

11. "I tell you what I can do for you, Sergeant-Major," I said. "I'm not too busy this morning, so I'll take some time and clean and wash your b9ke for you before I inspect it."
12. \
13. Sgt. Green had always treated me well whenever circumstances had thrown us together, and I also reasoned it wouldn't hurt to have the man in charge of the Regimental Police owe me a favor.

14. Sgt. Green brightened visibly. "You'd do that for me?" he asked.

15. I nodded; "You can pick it up after three this afternoon."

16. That afternoon Sgt. Green returned to collect his bike, and smiled with pleasure at his now-immaculate machine.

17. "I appreciate what you've done for me," he beamed. "You know sometimes I just don't seem to get time to take care of it properly and I would hate to lose it."

18. "Perhaps I could take care of cleaning your bike every month if that would help," I volunteered. I figured I had him hooked, and it was time to reel him in.

19. His astonishment showed. "If you would do that for me, I would be very grateful, and I would be more than willing to trade favors. If there is anything I can do for you, just ask," he offered.

20. I thanked him, knowing what I wanted but unsure how to broach the subject. Sgt. Green made it easy.

21. "Well, lad, is there something I can do for you right now?" he asked.

22. "Well. Sergeant..." I hesitated.

23. "Go on, lad."

24. "Well, Sergeant-Major, I have a girl friend in Makenham, and I only get to see her once in a while on Saturday night because the town is at least 15 miles away and it is very difficult to get transportation," I explained. At best, I hoped to hitch a ride on one of the police patrol vehicles.

25. Sergeant-Major Green pondered this for a while; and then, bending down from his six-foot-three height to put his head closer to my ear, he quietly said, "You know that small woods behind the police building?" I nodded. "Well, once in a while I've seen a motorcycle parked among the trees."

26. This was better than anything I could possibly have imagined. Sgt. Green really did seem grateful, and I decided to push it as far as I could.

27. "Do you think it might be there this coming Saturday evening?" I queried.

28. "I wouldn't be a bit surprised," he grinned and, kicking his motorcycle into life, he rode away, still smiling.

29. On Saturday evening, dressed in my best uniform, I took the narrow path through the trees. Sgt. Green's motorcycle was there. On its seat were a white helmet emblazoned with the word "Police" on the front, a whiter Police belt, and a Regimental Police armband.

30. Donning the equipment, I quietly and nervously wheeled the bike through the trees to a lane beyond before starting the engine and making for Makenham. This was exhilarating, and the first of many successful Saturday night visits to my girlfriend.

31. Every month from then on, Sgt. Green delivered his motorcycle for inspection, and I made sure he received a good report. The bike and equipment were available whenever I needed them, and consequently y love life was good.

32. Only once was my police imitation seriously threaten3ed with exposure.

33. It was a Saturday night. Resplendent in my police equipment, I happily sped toward Makenham and my usual date.

34. As I started down the hill toward the town center, a frantically-waving figure leaped in front of me. I skidded to a stop and a young second lieutenant with a flushed face approached me.

35. "Thank goodness you came along," he panted. "There's a fight between some soldiers going on in there," he pointed to a pub next to us. "You must go in and stop it."

36. This was something I had never considered. Here was someone who actually wanted me to act like a regimental policeman—I'd better do something fast! If I was found out to be an imposter, I'd not only find myself in serious trouble, but—much worse—Sgt. Green would be in it with me.

37. I knew there was no way I was about to thrust my 135 pounds into a donnybrook of heaven knows how many brawling, possibly drunken, soldiers.

38. Quickly I noted the Lieutenant's shoulder patches, which identified him as being from another regiment. That was a real break for me. I was also quite sure he hadn't noticed my regimental insignia, since his only concern seemed to be my police gear.

39. "Is there a back door to the pub, Sir?" I asked as I put the bike on its kickstand.

40. "Yes, Officer," he replied.

41. "Well, sir, it might be a good idea if you went around to the back and used your rank to stop anyone attempting to get way when I go in the front," I suggested.

42. "Right," he replied, and running into the alley beside the pub, he disappeared behind the building.

43. Straddling my motorcycle as fast as I could, I coasted quietly down the hill, not starting the engine until I was sure I was out of earshot of the waiting lieutenant.

44. This was the only near-catastrophe I experienced, and I never told a soul about the episode; but I often wonder how long that second lieutenant waited for escaping soldiers while his policeman stopped the fight.