My Dad was working for the drugs squad...
So my dad, one of the finest human beings ever, joins the Police as a civilian driver. He loved it, looking after the motor pool of Hampshire police, getting to drive high performance vehicles, road trips all over the country, picking up ne’er do wells and recidivists far and wide and doing his bit for society.
His stories are legend but this one still makes me smile.

Part of his job was to move evidence, equipment and generally any stuff needed to go from one place to another. So he got to see a lot of things and one day him and his mate get a call to bring a big van and go to a farm just outside Andover.
They take the Transit and have a lovely drive in the country and turn up at this ramshackle farm in the middle of nowhere.
The DI from the drugs squad is there and is rubbing his hands with glee, he has turned up what is one of the biggest cannabis farms to date with over 150 plants at full bloom and a couple of growers who had started to harvest the weed. The farmer had allowed his son to use one of his huge tomato greenhouses to grow the weed and in a close knit community word had got out and hence the raid.
This was 1980 and was very unusual, so the process and procedures they have in place now to deal with this was completely absent. As they had never done this before and that is a huge amount to keep for evidence and they obviously can’t leave it there, a quick call to the Met and find out that all they have to do is bag the flowering top of the plants for evidence and then destroy the rest.
So Dad and his mate John are left while the Drugs squad take the growers in for questioning and celebrate the win. They start to realise that this is a pretty big job so they cut the heads, bag it and proceed to bag up the rest and take it to the station.
As there is nowhere left to store it they lock it in the basement and destroy it the next day.
So next day mid morning Dad and John take it to the incinerator in the boiler room, now there must have been about 40 large lack sacks of this stuff, now in this is a windowless room and they start to burn this stuff, its green and very smoky, not only that the air is filled with the smell and their hands are covered on the resin from the plants.
They both started to find things very funny and were getting very hungry so they nipped upstairs for a cup of tea and started to snack their way through the choccie biccies which were tasting very very good.
Eventually they went back down and realised it was taking far too long and if they used the outside incinerator at the back of the police station they could get it done far quicker. So they took the remaining bags out and stated to burn it. By then sense and reason had been left behind and they had a great idea that if they built a big bonfire they could get rid of it in one go.
And build it they did, it was all going beautifully and by this time the smoke was billowing out and they didn’t seem to mind which way the wind blew the smoke and were having the best and funniest day ever. At that point the somebody informed the chief super about a big bonfire at the back of the station and he came down to deal with it as he had seen them from his window rolling over and pissing about.
He had opened his window to shout down, smelled what was burning and realised pretty quickly what was going on and being a good mate of my dad from the Hampshire police golf society which dad was the secretary, saw the funny side. By this time the billowing clouds had drawn more people, the fire brigade were called and my dad was oblivious to it all.
it was now mid afternoon and the Chief Super got a PC to drive them home and advised them to go straight off to bed.
I came home from college to find my dad in the kitchen with food all over the shop, red eyed and he was talking absolute bollocks , I could smell the smoke on him and gradually pieced together what had happened and when I told him he was stoned, he refused to believe it he was just a little ‘light headed and hungry’. After I made him a huge dinner he wen't off to bed and not a word was mentioned about it the following day.
I got the full story years later at his retirement do and his colleagues were remorseless in ribbing them about it with nicknames like Scooby and shaggy, and making druggy hippy references and all in good fun.
To be honest I was a little disappointed at the time to hear about that huge amount just being destroyed but the comedy of seeing my dad off his trolley on weed was brilliant.
(nimrodihnio making gravy for one., Tue 21 Sep 2010, 9:55, 1 reply)

I too
Am a little bit dissapointed at the waste but at least someone got stoned....Good story *click*
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Tue 21 Sep 2010, 10:46, closed)