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IPA News

VE Day Remembered Betty Tyson , Scarborough Branch During the War I worked in Plaxton’s Factory, Scarborough, making boxes for Aircraft

musical instrument played; it was a real party atmosphere. Then, I had to return to the farm for milking. It was a bittersweet moment for me as my boyfriend had been killed the previous year in France, just after D-day. He is buried at Ranville Cemetery in France, and is commemorated at Seamer Cemetery. We moved from Stainsacre after the war to Muston, Near Filey, and I decided to join the Police. At that time, you had to be 21, and I was only 20. But the application form only asked for your year of birth so I made 1925 look like 1923. Unfortunately the village policeman knew how old I was so I didn’t get in. Who knows, if I had been accepted I might well have been an early IPA member. Instead I had to wait until I was 93 and became a proud Associate Member last year. David Lewis, Scarborough Branch Member and Chair of the Section UK Writers’ SIG added: “This is a fabulous reminiscence, thank you. Betty has been a stalwart of Scarborough Branch for many years. But due to IPA membership rules, she was unable to become a fully documented Associate Member until 2019. Our Branch acknowledges the brilliant service and lasting friendship of this wonderful lady.”

Propellers and Incendiary Bombs. At 18 years of age it was compulsory to register for war work, no matter what you were doing. I expected to join the WAAF, but was told I couldn’t because I was in a Reserved Occupation. I was heartbroken, but I remember my dad saying “Thou’s waaf enough!” (You’re daft enough). My parents were farming at Stainsacre near Whitby and in 1944, owing to my mum being ill, I had to return and work on the farm. At the beginning of May 1945, we knew that the end of the war in Europe was imminent. We also knew that when victory was announced, there would be a band playing on the pier at Whitby. On Tuesday 8th May 1945, my friend Nancy and I had a half day off, and we met to see the matinee at Whitby cinema. Whilst we were watching the film, the screen flashed and went blank. This was a regular occurrence in those days, which meant that the film had broken, during which we would stamp our feet and “Boo!” This time all the lights went on and a man shouted “It’s over!” Everyone ran out of the cinema and headed on to Whitby Pier. The band was playing and anyone with a when I was introduced to The Queen Mother. Continuing with the royal theme, it was also worn at the wedding of Prince Charles and Diana. I was fortunate to be one of the officers who walked 25 abreast, the entire length of the Mall from Admiralty Arch to Buckingham Palace. Days like that are hard to forget. Rather less salubrious but no less forgettable, was the night of 11th April 1981, when for the first time in my career I thought I could die. Caught in the midst of the Brixton riot, The Helmet saved me from serious injury as it deflected a rock aimed at my head. A small tear in the fabric and a dent on the decorative metalwork on top of The Helmet, bears permanent testimony to that night of mayhem. The Helmet was also with me through numerous Notting Hill Carnivals, again attracting crowds of over a million, usually but not always happy occasions. The Helmet had sat by my side as I attempted to comfort the bereaved at the scene of sudden deaths and has witnessed the everyday interactions with the public, that are the daily lot of a police officer. Most sadly perhaps, The Helmet was with me on 17th December 1983, when a good friend and well-respected

Betty meeting Prince Harry at Westminster Abbey Field of Remembrance 2019

Betty Tyson on VE day 2020

The Helmet Mike Masson , Writers SIG

During the Lockdown I decided to clear out my cupboards, and that’s when I saw it, tucked away in a supermarket carrier bag; The Helmet. I had forgotten I still had it, but finding it made me realise it was one of those items which links me to a past I recall with many emotions, some good and some bad. Just as the memories stay with me, so it seems does The Helmet. Easing it out of the bag, I was surprised at how well it had stood the passage of time. It must be well over 40 years old, but remains in very serviceable condition. My surname and very first Divisional shoulder number are still visible on the inner rim. I sat it on the table in front of me and stopped what I was doing for a few minutes. I was looking at the iconic image of the London Bobby, recognised worldwide. But more than that, I was looking into the mirror of a past life. My first posting was to Kensington Police Station, which remains my favourite posting and was where The Helmet saw most of its action, since I subsequently spent most of my career in CID. Most memorably, I was wearing The Helmet

colleague, WPC Jane Arbuthnot, tragically lost her life, along with two other police officers and three civilians, when an IRA bomb detonated outside Harrods department store. I took one last look at The Helmet, like its owner, slightly frayed round the edges but having withstood the test of time, before replacing it in its modest covering. No doubt it will be brought out again some time in the future, but for now it is back in peaceful retirement, bearing silent witness to a time long past, but never forgotten.

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POLICE WORLD Vol 65 No.3, 2020