God knows what reminded me (maybe the quip about Coffeeholic becoming a rozzer on the main forum ) but does anyone remember a story about a nasty ginger haired Scots motorcycle copper on the Peripherique?
Supposedly he had it in for English drivers, would pull them for nothing, let them give his French speaking colleague some grief and then step in…
The cherry on the story was that supposedly one dark night, an Irishman sideswiped him in one of the tunnels on purpose, leaving just a large red and ginger stain up the wall
This may of course be complete cobblers/a result of my medication but I definitely remember hearing it more than once
blimey that one has reamerged. that story has legend status. i also heard the exact same thing. ginger and scottish (insert your own comment) never met him but heard plenty of tales about him. the bit about the irish man is new though. so unless at least 6 other people can confirm this then it must be a urban myth
blimey that one has reamerged. that story has legend status. i also heard the exact same thing. ginger and scottish (insert your own comment) never met him but heard plenty of tales about him. the bit about the irish man is new though. so unless at least 6 other people can confirm this then it must be a urban myth
I would have thought that if at least 6 other people can confirm it it is definitely an urban myth.
The version I heard was that he prowled the A1, not the peripherique, but then if you are a myth, you can prowl where you like presumably.
Incidentally, why would an Irishman waste him if he preyed upon Englishmen
There was definitely an English cop in a car in the French traffic police that would hang around the Chalon to Rheims autoroute nicking Englishmen for running too close etc. He would let the English guys give his French mates a load of verbal & then throw the book at 'em. Scumbag.
I remember the rumour but this time he was always waiting at the St Omer peage stopping brit drivers who where pushing for the ferry…same story,would let his french “mates” start the argument then step in and cause loads of grief!!
bullitt:
I remember the rumour but this time he was always waiting at the St Omer peage stopping brit drivers who where pushing for the ferry…same story,would let his french “mates” start the argument then step in and cause loads of grief!!
Nice Chap
I heard it exactly the same as above, never had the privelidge to meet him, thank god
oh yes its not a myth i even spoke to him,the police pulled me one morning right on the nape of the A1 and the terrorferique at port bangolet,had a bit of banter some small discusion,i remember one officer asked me for the papers so being clever i gave them the daily mirror,they wernt amused,papers for the camion he scowled i gave them to him,then he spoke scottish,no problem and carried on,what i didnt let on about was i had left bradford at 1730 the night before,they pulled me at about 0700,a swiss kid in the bradford office had bet me a quid i couldnt get to rungis by 0830 well a quids a quid i won the bet,by the way the M25 was not even thought about then,we had to go down archway etc and use the blackwall.
never got the quid off the swiss kid,and his dad owned allsped and fracht in basel.
AI dont know if we are all talking about the same copper but in the early 70’s I came across one. I had broken down (only a small problem) just south of Paris on the A6 on my way to Lyon. While I was making running repairs who should turn up but “Pinky & Perky”. One stood by his bike and the other took off his helmet revealing a head of ginger hair. He came back to me and in quite a soft voice for a very big man, asked if I was British.(in a Scottish but not strong accent) Ireplied yes and he asked if there was anything he could do to help. I told him no thank you but that I would soon be on my way. He then asked me if I could do him a favour. Wondering where this was going I said “If I could”.
All he wanted was to know if I could bring him out some Capstan Full Strength cigarettes. I did this on a regular basis for quite a period contacting him either by phone or calling into the small Gendarmerie between the north and southbound lanes of the A6 just a few k’s south of the peripherique.
Can honestly say, hand on heart that I never had any problems around Paris and was always paid for the cigarettes. Struck up quite a friendship with Hamilton,for that was his name and the other coppers called him" Hamie"
As for the kilt? No such thing always wore full leathers! By the way he had a georgeous french wife. She used to come and meet me at the “Restop” to pick up the ■■■■ sometimes.
TIR Original:
AI dont know if we are all talking about the same copper but in the early 70’s I came across one. I had broken down (only a small problem) just south of Paris on the A6 on my way to Lyon. While I was making running repairs who should turn up but “Pinky & Perky”. One stood by his bike and the other took off his helmet revealing a head of ginger hair. He came back to me and in quite a soft voice for a very big man, asked if I was British.(in a Scottish but not strong accent) Ireplied yes and he asked if there was anything he could do to help. I told him no thank you but that I would soon be on my way. He then asked me if I could do him a favour. Wondering where this was going I said “If I could”.
All he wanted was to know if I could bring him out some Capstan Full Strength cigarettes. I did this on a regular basis for quite a period contacting him either by phone or calling into the small Gendarmerie between the north and southbound lanes of the A6 just a few k’s south of the peripherique.
Can honestly say, hand on heart that I never had any problems around Paris and was always paid for the cigarettes. Struck up quite a friendship with Hamilton,for that was his name and the other coppers called him" Hamie"
As for the kilt? No such thing always wore full leathers! By the way he had a georgeous french wife. She used to come and meet me at the “Restop” to pick up the ■■■■ sometimes.
Now that story is more believeable. Probably the kilt story was dreamt up with poetic licence. Do you know if he was squashed between a fleet of Irish trucks? or did he die from lung cancer with the Capstans
Urban myth■■? The real urban myth was when BLUE EAGLE was chased by a ginger haired McKermit (and he was CRS not gendarme) riding a BMW just because he pointed out that his dagger should be in his sock not waving about on the petrol tank 'OL GRAVEL GUTS
yeah i remember blue eagle, frank is his name, he told me he was being chased by crs on the bp, and he said he was getting worried by that dagger being waved about, he was the one who told me about the kilt. thanks for the reminder o.g.g.
) but does anyone remember a story about a nasty ginger haired Scots motorcycle copper on the Peripherique?
