Last week, PC Keith Palmer gave his life protecting this city that is my home.
He was a husband. He was a dad. He was a police officer. And he was a thousand other things besides. I never had the privilege of knowing him – but I know what he was. ‘Hero’ barely even begins to cover it.
I didn’t actually know any Coppers before I joined the Met almost 25 years ago. Not a single one.
I knew about them of course: I saw them out on patrol; I watched them on TV; I got told off by one of them once for something I hadn’t done.
But I didn’t actually know any of them – what they were like; what made them tick. They were inhabitants of a world beyond my experience and understanding. That’s how it remains for most of us.
These days, I’m proud to count any number of them as friends. And I want you to know that the finest of them are as fine as people can be.
They are brave
Dear God, they are brave.
They are the headlong rush of blues and twos: the first to the scene; the first to the chase; the first to confront; the...
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