English people have always intrigued me ever since I was a little boy. The little interesting stories about England appearing almost daily in newspapers were always suspect. Not because these little stories were published by the communist run papers but because they were almost incredible. Yet, all these little stories were all true as I came to find out years later when I lived in London for 2 glorious years. But why am I telling you all this? The other day I came across an e-mail where the writer, an assistant professor in Philosophy Department of University of Virginia in Richmond, VA, discussed the various terrorist and home security alert levels of several countries. I believe that in order to fully understand and appreciate the security warning levels in England a quick refresher course in English mentality is in order.
Here is the first lesson: English are always cool meaning they are calm and collected at all times and react to various daily situations in an unpredictable manner with a poker face no matter how weird you may think their reaction.
Case in point: As I mentioned, we (mywife and I) lived 2 years in London, England from 1968 to 1970. In summer of 1969 my wife's mother was allowed to visit us for 2 weeks. She was flying back to Prague on Monday at 1:00 p.m. On Sunday, her last day, we visited the Windsor Castle taking the Green Line bus from Victoria Station. We enjoyed the day and returned home to our rooms at 29A Grayshott Road in Battersea at around 5:00 p.m. About half an hour later my wife's mother, much to her horror, discovered that her purse is missing. It contained just a few pounds but more importantly, it contained her passport, airplane ticket, and various other documents. We searched the whole house but to no avail. trying to retrace our steps, we took a bus to Victoria Station and happened to find the same Green Line bus we took to Windsor. We asked the driver and conductor whether they found a purse. They said they did not and searched the bus. No purse. We returned home. My Mother-in-Law cried incessantly knowing full well that losing a passport is severely punishable by law. This was no ordinary passport, it was a Czechoslovakian communist passport. She already saw herself in one of those hard labor camps in Siberia. After a while I got a bright idea: Go and report the loss of the purse to the police. Granted, it was meant as an effort to calm my Mother-in-Law, but having read several Sherlock Holmes adventures I was secretly hoping that Scotland Yard may be in position to help. Little did I know.
We came to the local police station at around 9:00 p.m. The sergeant on duty welcomed us warmly and obligatorily asked us how can he be of service. My wife related the whole story to him while her mother was sobbing again. After my wife told the sergeant on duty everything including all our movements that day, and after she impressed on him that the situation is very very serious for her mother, and after the sergeant put everything down on paper, he posed a second or two apparently to gather his thoughts on the case and form an opinion; and then with the proverbial English poker face and in seriously measured voice asked: " Do you take it with or without?" in almost a cockney like dialect. My wife and her mother looked at each other as if an atom bomb is about to explode and as if on command started both sobbing incessantly. After a short while my wife collected herself enough to say:"With or without? What are you talking abnout?". The sergeant, never losing his composure answered:"The tea ma'am, of course, you will have a cup a tea, won't you? Do you take it with or without sugar?". After the sergeant brought a tea service that saw better days, he calmly and almost ceremoniously poured the tea and settled into his chair with cup in hand. In the meantime, my Mother-in-Law collected herself enough to murmur: ".....and what about my purse?" The sergeant almost jumped to his feet and said: "Ma'am, don't worry about your purse. Go home and have a good night's sleep. Sir," turning to me, "when we find the purse, do you prefer that we deliver it immediately or do you wish us to bring it in the morning?". Observe that the sergeant said WHEN and not IF. At that time London had a population of about 5 million.
We went home and after a long while fell asleep at around 1:00 a.m. I was awaken by the ring of a bell at our front door. Quick glance at the alarm clock told me it is 10 minutes after 3:00 a.m. I opened the door and found myself starring at a belt buckle of the biggest constable I have ever seen. "Sorry to wake you up, Sir," came out of his mouth :is this your purse?'" By this time my Mother-in-Law and my wife were at the door. My Mother-in-Law quickly snatched the purse out of constable's hands and nervously went over the contents. It was all there? Passport, ticket, even the 10 pounds. Miracle.
Later, we learned that the purse was found by a nurse at our bus stop hardly a block away from our house. She took it with her to work and when she returned home that night she took it to police station in Cockfosters where she lived. Cockfosters, having been informed by telex about the missing purse like all police stations in London, called Clapham, our police station, and then Clapham send a police car to retrieve the purse.
Lesson No. 2: English will always react to various situations in a most unexpected manner.
Case in Point: Early in 1970 we have acquired a 1957 Vauxhall Victor. In April 1970 my wife worked as a barmaid at Villiers Bar at Charring Cross. Her shift ended at midnight and was always there waiting to pick her up with our Vauxhall. One night, as we were talking while driving along the Whitehall, I noticed a fast approaching white Jaguar police car from the rear. They were doing at least 60 mph. Much to my chagrin and surprise they passed us and swerved to the left right in front of us blocking our way. Good thing I had good reflexes and the good ol' Vauxhall had good breaks. Needless to say, I hit the curb. Two policemen jumped out of the Jag with great urgency. One positioned himself at the boot (the rear of a car) the other one came to me and without any warning Barked out: "Your license plate number, Sir!" I sat there frozen for a second or so that seemed to be couple of hours trying to remember where and when did I kill someone. Then it dawned on me, Your license plate number, Sir? When I came to I started to open the door and said: "Let me look." "No, Sir,"came a stern reply,"by heart, Sir!" In situations like this when a SWAT team lead by 007 can appear out of nowhere any second anyone would be hard pressed to remember their name and I was supposed to remember my license plate number. Nevertheless, I thought for a moment and replied: "718 MPD". The other policemen nodded and I heard my constable say: " Right-O, Sir, carry on!" I must have sat there with much relief in my eyes that I won't be shot on the spot (never mind the fact that police in England did not wear a gun) because the constable, now in friendly voice, said: "In case you are wondering why we stopped you, up there at Trafalgar Square you ran a red light and almost hit us. You won't do that again, will you?" I promised and the two policemen disappeared in their Jag as quickly as they appeared. Later at work I learned that according to the law, a driver must know the license plate number of a car he is operating at the time.
Now the security alert levels.
The e-mail informed me that after the Christmas Day attempt by the Nigerian youth to blow up a Delta airliner over Detroit the English raised their security alert warning level from "Miffed" to "Peeved". In case such attacks are repeated, the English plan to further raise the security alert level to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross". The English have not been at "A Bit Cross" level since the Blitz of 1940 when the tea supplies all but ran out. The English have one higher warning level "Bloody Nuissance". The "Bloody Nuissance" warning level has not been used since the Big Fire in 1666.
Always have fun
George
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