Free No Easy Ride: Reflections on My Life in the RCMP by Ian Parsons Page A

inspect regularly to ensure general policy compliance. Staff Sergeant “Snapper” John Nance, our section NCO, was married to the Force, lock, stock and barrel, and expected everyone else to be equally dedicated. An officious man, much impressed by his own importance, he expected complete subservience from his minions. Time meant nothing to him; it was not unusual for his detachment visits to begin in the evening, when he would demand that the detachment commander forgo his dinner to be on hand for his inspection of the premises.
----
    BLUEBERRIES
    While I was stationed at Willmore during the early ’60s, the detachment consisted of seven members, four on district duties and three on traffic, with each unit supervised by a corporal. Corporal John Russell, in charge of the district, was the detachment commander, while Corporal Tetzloff supervised the traffic unit. There was a good rapport and healthy competition between the two units.
    On long weekends, the detachment policy for major highways was one of “saturation.” All units were directed onto the highway for as many hours as humanly possible—and longer. The objective was to reduce the carnage due to increased holiday traffic. One warm Victoria Day long weekend, all members and vehicles were on duty and patrolling the highway. As it happened, the two corporals had decided to team up to supervise. RCMP policy in that era demanded acute attention to uniform dress code, and these astute leaders had identified the proper wearing of kit as a priority. The uniform of the day was boots and breeches, brown tunics and Stetsons. The unwieldy Stetson had to be worn at all times when outside the cruiser.
    As the corporals roamed their domain, they spotted Constable Rob Drucker out of his car making a vehicle check. Drucker was a folksy farm boy originally from the Ottawa Valley, who often had difficulty adhering to uniform regulations. It was obvious that he was hatless while making this vehicle check. The detachment commander decided to make an example of Drucker and waited until he had finished checking the vehicle.
    The two NCOs pulled in behind the errant constable. Corporal Russell got out of his car and walked smartly over to Drucker and had a brief conversation, which ended rather abruptly. The corporal returned to his vehicle. Corporal Tetzloff, very interested in Drucker’s reaction to the upbraid, queried the senior corporal, who looked dejected. “I demanded to know why he didn’t have his Stetson on! He told me that it was not possible.” “Why?” the corporal asked. “Because it’s full of blueberries!” was his answer. It was completely logical to Drucker—and shows why supervisors sometimes pray for divine intervention.
----
    One evening, he arrived on the doorstep of Corporal Porter, who was just closing up shop for the day. Staff Sergeant Nance informed Corporal Porter that he would be commencing his review of the detachment. The corporal looked at his watch and explained he was done for the day and would return to the office at eight o’clock the following morning. He then promptly shut the door in Staff Sergeant Nance’s face. Infuriated, Nance immediately phoned Superintendent Little, the officer commanding, disturbing him after hours. Nance explained how Corporal Porter had dismissed him at the doorstep and requested authority to proceed with disciplinary action. The officer commanding was very aware of Corporal Porter’s dizzying connections within the high echelons of the Force. He astounded Nance by telling him to ignore the rebuff and start his inspection in the morning. This single brave action brought fame and glory to Corporal Porter from his detachment commander peers. It broke the reign of terror exercised by Staff Sergeant Nance and changed the oppressive working conditions that he had imposed throughout the subdivision.
    During my first summer at Willmore, I was taken back to my youth when the exhibition came to town. Many of us have