I dedicate these words to the long-suffering wives of all Police Officers who choose to serve their communities in small country towns.

When I was at three and two man Police Stations, I was listed in the telephone book as "Constable's Residence". At the three man station the Sergeant rarely put the Station phone through to his house after hours, so I ended up receiving the calls, when they couldn't get an answer on the listed Police number. The two man station was a little better, the Sergeant at least took the calls, but he considered that all after hours call outs should be attended by both of us, so I got a phone call anyway. The one man Police Station, it didn't really matter, the house and the Station had the same number.

Most calls were genuine, but you always received the stupid ones. About 2.00 am one morning I answered the phone to be asked if that was the local Police. When I replied it was, he asked, "I just wanted to know if it is raining down there, I'm thinking of coming down fishing". I won't tell you what I said back to him, but it sure as hell wasn't a weather report. Another occasion I answered my door at about midnight to be asked if I could renew a driver's licence, because he had just realised it had expired.

The following really applies to all wives of Police Officers in small country towns, and I only use my wife as an example.

No matter if the call was genuine or not, it invariably woke my wife and of course disturbed her sleep for the rest of the night. If I were called out to a job, she would lie awake, sometimes for hours, not knowing where I was or what I was doing. She could never really relax until I returned home safely. The same really applied even when I was called to some job or other during normal hours, my wife was left home wondering if I was OK, mostly unaware as to the nature of what I was attending. Many times I purposely did not tell her where I was going, or what the job was, because it would only have increased her anxiety.

If I was away from the station for any reason, she would be left to answer the phone, and make whatever arrangements she thought needed. She wasn't a Police Officer, but many times had to think like one.

Sometimes, she would go into the Police Station and call me on the radio, other times she would call the District Officer. If she considered the matter could wait, she would tell them to call back later. In any event she was required to make decisions, that she was never meant to make.

At times, as a result of domestic disputes, I would decide that the best solution was to separate the feuding parties for a time. There really was nothing to be gained by arresting one or other of them, except bad feelings between them and the Police. So I would take the wife and children to my own home, and give them somewhere to sleep for the night until things settled down at their own home. Of course my wife would be required to help settle them, and feed them for the period they were in my house. Sometimes she got a thank you; most times she did not.

If I had a prisoner in the cell, she was required to supply them with food. There was a process by which she could make a claim for expenses, in those instances, but it was so cumbersome, more often than not we simply didn't bother making a claim. We fed the prisoner and left it at that. I think that has now changed, and all prisoners are now taken to the nearest twenty-four hour station, mainly because of the issue of deaths in custody. In fact I believe all one and two man stations have had their cells removed, but am not certain of that. But that wasn't the case in my day. It was another task for the wife of the Police Officer.

I recall one time, when I was expecting a visit from the Deputy Commissioner of Police (the second highest ranking Officer in the State) and I asked my wife to prepare a morning tea when he arrived. She had never had reason to entertain anyone of high ranking, so felt a little out of her depth, but she did a great job. It was the only time in all my years, that anyone actually took the time to thank her for her efforts. That night, on his return to his hotel in a provincial city, he took the time to write a letter of thanks to my wife. It was written to her personally and addressed to her personally. It wasn't a great effort, but it earned that man my highest respect.

There was yet another time when I was expecting a visit from a number of higher ranking Officers, and I again asked my wife to prepare a lunch for them. She went to a lot of trouble and prepared a beautiful lunch. However on their arrival, they didn't even bother calling in to the Police Station. They went to the hotel instead, that was obviously more important. I never saw them and all my wife's work was for nothing.

They were simply ignorant people, they knew I had arranged a lunch for them because I had told them, but we never even got the courtesy of an apology. Naturally my wife felt very let down by the whole thing.

For many years, the wife of a serving Police Officer in small country towns has simply been expected to be there. They rarely if ever receive any recognition for their efforts. It is my firm belief that they should at the very least receive a letter of gratitude annually from the Commissioner of Police for all they do on behalf of the Police Service.

I actually go a little further and believe they really are entitled to some form of financial gratuity, however small, perhaps at the end of each year. At least then they would know their efforts have been appreciated.

Most Police wives, take it in their stride and accept it as part of being married to a Police Officer, but that doesn't excuse the ignorance of the system which takes them for granted.

Hundreds of wives have given hundreds of hours of their time towards their communities in supporting their Police husbands, but only on very rare occasions do they even hear the words, "Thank You."

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