The Day we received a bomb at our home.

My eldest Grandson Adam Mellor, was one year and a few month old. On a weekday in 1989, his father, my son, Stuart John Mellor, was in the habit of bringing him to our home at 118, Birches Barn Road, where we would have him for several hours, whilst our daughter in law did some part time work. We loved having him. Stuart usually arrived at about 8.30pm and his visits coincided with the visit of a post lady, we had her for years. My wife, collected the post, and put it on the Kitchen Table, it was near Christmas, and amongst the post was a small colourfully wrapped packet. My wife, said, "someone has sent you a Christmas present"
I opened all my mail, with a paper knife, I slit open the bottom of the package. I then saw the tell tale wires, which my knife has not touched. I said, Thia may be a bomb and threw it into the hallway. It did not detonate. My wife, took the child outside, the back door, onto the lawn. My son, open the front door, and kicked the object onto the front lawn, again it did not detonate. I telephoned "999" and reported the incident. The operator said," two more, one to the Chief Constable and one to Superintendent V Morris, at Birmingham Road, have been deteted at the Sorting Office.
In the interim period, the police had arrived. The used a waste disposal Lorry, to stop all traffic at Birches Barn Road and St Phillips Avenue, and in a few minutes, had shut sown Birches Barn Road, completely. It remained like that for the next five hours. The Police did not examine the packet. The Bomb Disposal team, Army where called. They sent in the small tractor on caterpillar tracks and camera. They kept in touch with me, via open telephone. At about 12md they announced the bomb, was an High Explosive charge, with incendiary elements, which if it had detonated, would have caused serious injury and a fire. It was their intention to detonate it in situ. We had to withdraw from the house, into the rear orchard. The detonation took place, it made a 3foot, wide, by 1 foot deep hole in the lawn, and dislodged 8 roof tiles on the verandah. The incident was over. I made a formal statement, and received a a call from Geoffrey Dear, commiserating with me, a similar call from Vic Morris, who was an old Friend. Invitation to the Incident Room followed, and 6 weeks later the enquiries into the three bombs, were curtailed. Who was responsible. I do not know.There were many theories, IRA, BLF, my former service experieneces., in Palestine It came to naught. An unpleasant experience.

John Mellor Remembers

John Mellor Remembers

Some Person are not lovers of history and the Past

I was posted to West Bromwich Police Station, in 1965, I was not there long. I did have an opportunity of visiting the old unused cells, and discovered that th No. 1 The Occurrence Books, from the passing of the County Police Act, were intactm dry and stacked in 25 years piles. A complete history of the Police station, its visitors, its criminals and it good deeds. I did not return until 1972. The old police station had been destroyed in the name of progress.
I checked the station on assuming command of the sub-division. I went into No.1 Cell, and found the books still in tact. I spoke to the Borough Librarian and archivist, and told him of the books.He was intrigued. The Divisional commander, known from now on as DC, had changed B had left and other B had assumed command, in 1974, to coincide with the new amalgamated Police Service, we where no longer a Force.
I spoke to him, about utilising the cell, but preserving the books. He was not pleased. He asked me to leave it to him, He would deal with it.
I took a day off, the following week, I was on the upper floors a few days later, when Sergeant S, who had always worked in the Divisional Office, Said to me "You can use the cell now, the gaffer told me to take the books to the cupola and burn them. It took three journies with the Divisional van" I remember, he appeared to have a sardonic smile. I thanked him. I never metntioned i tagain. Years later, I was asked by the very efficient, Museum controller in the new West Midlands Police, where all the books had gone from the old West Bromwich Division. I advised him of their disposal. I will not repeat his remarks, something about "Attila, the......."

The Gentle Mander, Wightwick Manor.

Sir Geoffrey and Lady Mander, were still living at the Manor, when I was at Compton. When he was away, the house, was special attention. Sir Geoffrey was a magistrate, and an important one. The number of documents he signed was tremendous. It was usually on a Friday pm after due notice. The household was more relaxed than The Mount, but both were was easy to talk to. He usually told me a story, his favourite, being when with a group of bankers, who with his title and house, thought he was a Conservative. He delighted in telling them he supported the Labour Party., after they had attacked Labours leading figures. He had a good sense of humour. Lady Mander, was a cultivated person, interested, in the ways of the locality and delighted in the stories, of our various problems, with the new arrivals in our area. In the summer, at parties, there was a few traffic problems, but a lot of personalities, film stars, stage stars, poets and politicians. A real eye opener sometimes. He never forgot however was on duty, and personally took us for refreshments. As a magistrate I had to dirnk whatever, he gave me. Ha. Ha. He generousely donated the property to the National Trust. A fine gesture, by a fine couple.

The Mander of the Mount, Tettenhall Wood

The Manders I met, during the period 1950 to 1955, whilst stationed as a Constable at Tettenhall and Compton, and living at Tettenhall Wood.
I was the fist constable to be stationed at Tettenhall Wood. The Compton sub-section had grown out of proportion with the development of the Tettenhall Wood and Castlecroft estates. We had at this time many of the old families of Wolverhampton, within a decade to be dispersed. The Manders were probably the most important. My memories.
Lady Mander and Daisy St Clair Mander, Mother and daughter lived at The Mount, Tettenhall Wood, a impressive Victorian mansion. One butler, one gardened, I remember, they lived opposite the Mount in semi-detached houses, built at the same time as the Mount. The Butler name, I feel, was Rochester.I visited four times before this house was sold(I would not mention the name of the man who bought it)My visits, were usually confined to taking documents to Miss Mander, for signature, she was a magistrates. You arranged your visit via the butler. My first visit, was to see Lady Mander. She had asked specifically for me, and I was intrigued. I made my first visit, and rang the long pull bell at the door(still in situ)the Butler answered and escorted me, helmet under right arm(Dixon of Dock Green fashion)to the Minstrels Gallery, where sat, this charming elderly lady, who invited me to sit, and offered coffee. She chatted about my service life, my family, told me of her delight at living at the Mount. She then said, “we have discovered in my late husbands gun cabinet Two Steyr Rifles”, I do not think we should have the. What do I do. I explained, the surrender position, which I would deal with. She then said, “I will call Daisy, my daughter”. This she did by alerting the butler. Miss Mander, arrived, I was formally introduced(very embarrassed)Miss mander, who was blunt and to the point, said, “The cleaners from the village, say you are a countryman, and shoot” I agreed. She said, “You can shoot in out grounds abound 6acres at that time. Will you kill the foxes. “I responded, “I will shoot any vermin on your grounds.”. I made three more journeys. Lady Mander died, and the property sold. A link with the past.

During the time that I was a Police Constable, at Tettenhall and Compton, it was necessary to visit Wrottesley Hall, seat of the Wrottesley family. The estate was at this time (1950 to 1955)quite extensive. The hall was marked for "special attention" which meants that any police officers, in the vicinity should walk around the hall, be watchful, but not be obvious. I enjoyed visiting the hall, and the lake(pool)on which there were Black swans, beloved by the 4th Baron Wrottesley. One april afternoon, I walked around the hall, and ended up by the swans which I loved to watch. I had been in position about three minutes, when I saw a man approaching he pool, He was dressed in a nondescript raincoat and an old trilby. I thought, vagrant, but the man continued to walk towards me. He then said, "enjoying the swans" A cultured voice. This was no vagrant. I replied, "Yes" He then said, "They are from Australia" He continued to talk to me, about various subjects. He then said, "Would you like a cup of tea". My reply, was "Yes My Lord" I went into the hall, and he disappeared, and came back with two cups of tea and a tray. I enjoyed my team explained our system of supervision, And left, I never saw hime again. I was impressed by this man, with a title, and the ability to talk to anyone, without side. I never saw hime again. I was quite upset when the 5th Baron, sold the estate

Diamond Jubilee medal. Open scope.

National servicemen and Hostilies only personnel, before the passing of the National service Act, have received no recognition, although many served in dangerous situations, which did not qualify them for a campaign medal. The medal would cost pence, certainly a lot less than the recently issued lapel badge, cost. This may be the last time, men and women who served their Sovereign and country, can be acknowledged. Normally medals are issued to existing members of the armed forces and establishment figures. The rank and file are as usual forgotten. They to are proud and remember their serviceand devotion to their country.The government should use this opportunity to remember the service of a dwindling group of men and women.

This is a petition on the Prime Minister Website to widen the scope of the medal, being considered at this time
Please consider signing it.

A man building a Battleship

During the period 1950 to 1955, I was stationed at Tettenhall and Compton, both beats with a responsibility for Wrottesley Park, which at that time, consisted of hutted sections each side of the road(then called Perton Lane), The communal site, near to the York Farm, and the remnants of huts and control towers on Per ton Airfield. Most of these hutments, had electricity toilet facilities, and most of the inhabitants were former members of the Polish Armed, Forces, a few Displaced, and a few English, awaiting new accommodation. Most of the inhabitants were law abiding and hard working, We had few characters. One family who lived near what is the Brads haw Farm Shop, were a Polish former soldier, his English Wife, and two children His wife, had warned us, that his wartime experiences, were effecting his behaviour, and we always called when in the vicinity Crass, known as POLICE GRASS, told me that the Pole, had gathered hundreds of corrugated sheets and woodwork and was starting to build something. His wife, called in to the police station, and said, she was leaving him. About 2 months later, I went passed the hut, and saw a distinct shaped of a ship, some 100 yards long and 16 feet wide, with a deck, and a guns made out of wood. The Polish former soldier was working his ship, when I called. I conversed with him, he said, "Police Mellor, I am going to sail to Poland and liberate my country". Admirable sentiments, but I could see that he was seriously ill. I had a few weeks later, had to call and serve documents on the Polish man. I went to his hut, he opened the door, he was immaturely dressed in Polish uniform, completed with full marching ebbing order. He had a rifle hand made, a beautiful replica , a rather frightening Great War bayonet, fixed in position. I served the document on him. He lifted the rifle and moved towards e. I closed the door, the bayonet, came straight through the door. I beat a diplomatic retreat. I went to the nearest Police pillar Ergs road junction, and spoke to my Sergeant. Henry Rawlins on, an educated, man, who I greatly admired. He said, "John,you are antagonising this man,leave him alone, return to the station". This I did. It was lunch time. I had my lunch, when PC Ford,a fellow uxonian, said, The Sergeant wants you. The Polish man, is marching up the HOlyhead Road, A41, towards wolverhampton, with miles of traffic behind him. He threatens anyone who attempts to stop him .. He is in full military dress. The Sergeant, told me that he has alerted the TA at Danescourt. They were turning out a Sergeant and a Platoon, to stop him. The Sergeant and I was to join them. We arrived at the A 41, in time to see the military, bring the Polish man down to the ground and disarm him.One of the TA soldiers was injured. The Polish man, was placed in the cells, seen by a doctor, and detained under the Mental Health Act. He was removed to St Georges, Stafford. I never saw him again. Sergeant Rawlinson, had the decency to apologise to me, and said, I had had a lucky escape.The TA soldiers, were Mentioned in Dispatches, or the civil equivalent, by the General Officer, Western Command. A tragic stoy, of a good man, suffering for his wartime experiences

September 1958 A meet a vagrant, I knew.

In 1957, I was appointed to be Village Constable, at Lower Penn, Wolverhampton, a upper class district of wolverhampton.My station, was in Springhill Park. The beat was divided by the A449, The SW Trunk Road, no M5 in those days. One side of the beat was Lower Penn, the other Penn Common, both different.It was my want, to be on the main road, in the mornings, as a large number of vagrants, passed in both directions, some coming out of New Cross, Wolverhampton, some travelling to New Cross, from Kidderminster.
I noticed a man sitting on the bench on Lloyd Hill, A449, he did not quite fit the description of the average vagrant. He looked familiar. I decided to speak to him. As I approached him, He asid, "Hello, Jack, how is your Dad". I was astounded. I immediately, recognised him, it was "Jim", a second world War veteran, a hard working man.I will not go into details, but his marriage had broken down, and his established life disrupted, his sister who we all knew, would have helped him, but he was too proud to ask. I took him to my Police Station, my wife, fed him, I telephoned my father. He contactesd his sister, and they asked my to get him home. I took him to Bone Mill Lane, Wolverhampton, then the Coop diary, with regular transport to FOLe, Nr Uttoxeter. I got him a ride. and he returned to his native heath. is saw him several times after, he was always grateful. Whether he is alive or dead I do not know. An act, which I remember.

A sharp reminder of my schooldays.

I attended Bradley Street, Church of England Primary and Junior school, Uttoxeter. Some teachers, remain in your memory, others disappear. I remember in particular, Miss Kingshott, a tall, a dark,angular lady. Her teaching was always forceful, her discipline strong. I remember her telling us of a visit to Oberamagau and the Passion play. I do not think, I thought of her again. After the Royal Marines, I became a police constable in the Staffordshire Constabulary, later to be the Staffordshire County Police,I was stationed in Willenhall Division, at Tettenhall Station. Bill ford from Uttoxeter, was on my shift. In 1951, I became the second man at Compton sub-section, which comprised the villages and hamlets of Tettenhall Wood, Compton, Finchfield, Trescott and Wightwick. Very little supervision, only means of communication, a Police Pillar at Tettenhall Wood Cross Roads.In 1952, about April time, we changed from flat caps to Helmets, and on my helmets first outing, I was in School road, when a shrill voice, behind me, said, "John Mellor" I turned and said, Yes, Miss". Automatic reaction. It was Miss Kingshott, a little older, but still very much with it. She explained, she was staying with her sister, in School Road, I gathered, but did not previously know, that Miss Kingshott was a native of Tettenhall Wood, although she lived in Uttoxeter for years, I left a year later. I never saw Miss Kingsott again. Pity

Elections are comionbg

Elections approach.
The elections always bring headaches to Graiseley Ward in the City of Wolverhampton. For the last 2o years, we have suffered from personation, interference with postal votes, the dead voting and other problems. usually associated with other countries, or parts of Birmingham The approaching elections, have a subtle change, brought about by one man. For years I complained that the dead were voting, Senior council officers and councillors, told me it was impossible to stop, if in fact, it, happened.. I was unimpressed. I have now been told that our new Electoral Registration officer, being made aware of past allegations. arranged a liaison between the office of the Registrar, and all deaths reported are now removed from the electoral register Average deaths over the 20 years 149 per annum. One door closed. At last.
Personation. This requires the cooperation of landlords, tenants and political representatives. The polling cards are send to the addresses of all voters. The address may contain 6 polling cards:, students who have left and moved address, or are lodgers or other transients. . The cars are collected , redistributed and despite the penalties involved personation takes place.Very difficult to prove, Requires high grade technical ability. Postal voting. This is usual;; confined to the old, those without English or the illiterate. They require help and can get it from the Presiding Officer at the Polling Booth. In practice, the unscrupulous, get the voting forms, complete them, and the selected elderly are unaware, as to what has happened. Difficult to detect. In my view. based on many elections, the "floating vote" takes Graiseley, with the aid of the improper voting practices.

John Mellor Remembers: Police Police Station Riot

John Mellor Remembers: Police Police Station Riot

A minister was completing s temperance sermon, with great emphasis, he said, "If I had all the beer in the world, I"d take it and pour it into the river"
With even greater emphasis he said, "And if I had all the wine in the world, I"d take it and pour it into the river.
And then finally, said if I had all the whiskey in the world I"d take it and pour it into the river.
Sermon completed he sat down
The hymn leader stood and very cautiously announced with a smile, nearly laughing, For our closing hymn let us sing:
Hymn 365. "Shall we gather at the river"