I recently found this amongst a load of stuff on an old hard drive from when I used to run an amateur packet radio bulletin board around 20 years ago. I don't know the author, unfortunately, so I hope they won't mind me posting it.
The story concerns a police officer who also happens to be a radio amateur, now read on.....
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This one should get you. "Ouch" you will say. "Prat" others might say.
Tis cold and wet on a winter's night. I have been lumbered with the sergeant because he wants to keep his mileage down. This means I have to abandon important things like going round to G8....'s house and see his latest HF receiver and have a bash at this new fandangled thing called packet radio which will never catch on.
No, we are lumbered with top priority jobs like arranging the Caravan Club weekend and ensuring the farmer knows where to leave the potatoes if the wife is out. Ah, it's a hard life this rural policing.
So we are trundling down the road when the sergeant decides to take a leak. No problem so far. He gets out, completely forgetting that his personal radio is on his lap, and crash falls out of the open door into the big puddle alongside which we have parked.
It is wet, it is sopping. Water pours out of everywhere. Oh.
"Never mind, I'll soon fix that," I say. Remove the batteries and thrash home. Now this seemed a good idea at the time (as they all do) and in fact was perfectly sound.
I turned the oven on. Aha..! No, don't rush ahead..! I turned the oven on to a low temperature for a short time then turned it off so there was a gentle heat within. Then I put the radio in. And the batteries.
You are thinking ahead again, don't.
So all dries out and all is well. Ahem. Sister-in-law is staying with us. Next day we go out and sister-in-law cooks dinner.
NOW you can think ahead - I hadn't taken the radio out..!
The radio had been lying on the rack and had softened to follow the rails. The aerial had gently melted and trails of black plastic looked like spider's webs. The batteries were boiling. But it was dry..!
On the sergeant's desk it looked a sorry sight. It wouldn't lie flat. "We could always say we lost it..?" "A big boy did it and ran away..?" A hundred other explanations (lies) ran through our heads.
It lay on the Inspector's desk. "Couldn't you have said that you'd lost it..?" he said. "We thought of that" we said.
Reams of paperwork were now generated. Rumours abounded. We were going to have to pay the cost of it. We were being chucked out. Worse than that, I was the station laughing stock..!
The great day arrived and we were wheeled into the Chief Inspector's office. That was a start, it was being dealt with at this level. "Imagine the Chief Inspector on the toilet when we are being disciplined" the sergeant had said to me before we went in. "Yes, and get extra punishment for being flippant" said I.
The radio was on his desk. Looking at us, grinning. Coooeee, it said..! The Chief Inspector shuffled his papers. I think of him on the toilet and stifle a grin.
"This report has been all the way to the Assistant Chief for a decision" he said. "I would like you to read the report and comment."
I read the report...
"Does it require marinading for long, surely wine would be tastier than water" read one. "Please could we have the recipe" read another. And so on in the same vein.
"Sergeant... You know this radio should be in a harness at all times..? Wear one in future. PC Davis, in future let the radio engineers sort out this problem should it ever happen again, which it won't..! Dismissed..!"
So we marched out to the sounds of chuckling and the final comment of "Can we come round to lunch on Sunday..?"
Aaaaaaarrrggggghhhhhhh....!!!!
Do you know, they re-cased the radio, and it worked..?!
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Author unknown