The city of Sheffield and it's people are the main stars of his stories and whilst the city may have changed dramatically since the days that Martyn walked the beat, the people and the humour are still there. All three of us were laughing our heads off at the thoughts of it all; and that at last we knew who had stolen the fish. It was amazing to see. My review was spotted by Emma from Martyn's publisher; and she kindly sent me a copy of his second memoir for review. Tony drove off and left Ken and me scratching our heads. As before, humour and sadness combine so that every chapter really is a compelling read. Everything in this book has really happened; some of the stories told are funny, others tragic and very sad, but even with the most gruesome things happening on his beat, this bobby tries to bring forth the good in people, and rules are never there for their own sake, but can be adapted to make life a tiny bit better for the less fortunate.
From dealing with the death of a small boy who has been run over to the suspected shoplifter with a pocket full of combs, Martyn Johnson could adjust himself to any situation, handling each one with care and sympathy, and sometimes with the back of his hand! The market was a large complex containing lots of wholesale florists, greengrocers and dealers of fresh fish. At that time I was a blacksmith and therefore a big and powerful chap, but not powerful enough to stop the knuckle dusters and bike chains bouncing off my body and head. He and his cubs were hungry and that night, at least, they ate better than I did potted meat sandwiches and a banana for me. As in his first book Johnson skilfully mixes funny, sad and moving stories from his work as beat bobby in Sheffield. With his nose for trouble and a knack for mischief, there's no such thing as a quiet shift for the friendly Yorkshire bobby - from drunken dogs and runaway horses to high-speed chases after Burglar Bill, there's always something to keep him busy and always another troublemaker to put to rights.
Martyn Johnson is an author, metal detectorist and historian. A lot of water had gone under the bridge during those few years. Not really confusing, either, but maybe slightly annoying to an impatient reader is how Mr. It was one of the oldest tricks in the world; and would have totally restricted the movement of his arms, meaning that he would have been unable to defend himself. Most other comments on both the author's website and on Amazon say that they love the writing style. And with a cuppa-tea stop and a familiar face on every corner of his beat, he's never far from a friend.
Ken kept his German Shepherd dog on a short lead and between us we could see from a distance of about 30 to 40 yards the whole of one side of the fish dock; and we quietly watched in the shadows as dawn was breaking. A few nights after this I was off duty and went for a pint with my good friend Harry Gale, the well-respected head gamekeeper of Earl Fitzwilliam. Martyn's reminiscences not only contribute to our local social history but are also relevant to the twentieth-first century policing debate. I hope that Martyn Johnson has more stories to tell and that he will continue to share them with readers for a few more books yet. Then, miraculously, instead of turning left out of the circle, the dog kept on following the scent of the foxes and ran round and round the circle that they had made. If you were right with them, they were right with you.
The snout had previously agreed with John to meet him at the Cavendish club that night in order to pass on some more information, but unfortunately someone had obviously got to him first. By now the German Shepherd had seen the foxes and the foxes had also seen us but did not look in the least bit concerned. It later transpired that the two arrested men had loads of convictions for violence, including a couple of shootings. He lives in the beautiful village of Wentworth in South Yorkshire. The bits on the treatment of certain criminals sounded like poetic justice. I thought I knew what he wanted and sure enough I was right.
Many of the recollections are amusing and some are thought provoking such as the elderly woman and her dead husband. By beating and then carving the man up in such a way meant to me, that should he live and luckily for him he did then he would bear the scars for the rest of his life to remind him of the fact that he had crossed and upset someone. Martyn is delighted and all praise to Little, Brown for their help and support. Life as a traditional beat bobby is rapidly becoming a fading memory. Quite a good read, I'd not read 1st book, which is referred to a couple of times.
With his nose for trouble and a knack for mischief, there's no such thing as a quiet shift for the friendly Yorkshire bobby - from drunken dogs and runaway horses to high-speed chases after Burglar Bill, there's always something to keep him busy and always another troublemaker to put to rights. There, walking nonchalantly up the ramp, came both a dog fox and a vixen; and to me as a country lad born and bred, the sight left me spellbound. Like his first book, this one contains some incredibly funny stories and some extremely sad and heart breaking recollections too. Barking as he went, he ran part way up the grassy bank and turned left, completing a circle just as the foxes had done before him. This policeman takes us on his beat in Sheffield, where we meet interesting characters and have an insight into a career that has changed beyond belief. I recommend you to listen to the full audiobook What's Tha Up To Nah, free at our library.
From the small coal mining village of Darfield near Barnsley I arrived in the big city of Sheffield and wondered what had hit me. We are not responsible for the republishing of the content found on this blog on other Web sites or media without our permission. First things first, pint-pot of tea and a fag. After two years, he found that he missed grass-roots policing and returned to the beat for a further seven years. Instead, you will find sentences like this one: I love history, although I hated it at school and as a metal detectorist of many years I would love to find the battle site. Martyn is a born raconteur, local historian, author and has plenty of interesting stories to tell! Everything in this book has really happened; some of the stories told are funny, others tragic and very sad, but even with the most gruesome things happening on his beat, this bobby tries to bring forth the good in people, and rules are never there for their own sake, but can be adapted to make life a tiny bit better for the less fortunate.
They were trying to run out of the club and, as they were covered in blood, the doormen grabbed them and stopped them leaving realizing that something was wrong. But that is not necessarily Martyn Johnson's fault. So whoever was stealing the fish had only an hour left before the shopkeepers would be arriving to open up shop. Even though it was a sunny Sunday afternoon I could still see plenty of smoke belching out from the many steelworks in the area. I could see that both of them were in serious conversation, which was totally out of character for them both.