Inchcock’s True Security Guarding Tales of Woe – The Victoria Hotel

Inchcock’s True Security Guarding Tales of Woe

The Irish, Scottish and English Security Guards and the Moonlight Dip!

I’d been working nights as was usual, guarding the old Victoria Station hotel on Milton Street in Nottingham that was being refurbished, along with my colleague ‘Mad’ Mick, for about a month.


We had suffered with the antics of drinkers coming out of the nightclubs in the early hours, and the client had added an extra guard.

Control sent us Andrew, thus making up The Irishman, Mick, the Scotsman Andrew, and the Englishman, me.

The assignment instructions required one officer out of the security cabin at all times, and inside patrolling the building.

Another patrolling the frontage and one in the cabin at all times.

This particular night, it was my turn to be based in the porta-cabin with the RT, Andrew to patrol the front of the the site.

Mick had gone into the building on patrol, and we had agreed he was to return to the cabin at 1100hrs, to swap with Andrew. By 1115hrs, with no response to my calls to him on the RT, I informed control, and Andrew went inside to check on Mick’s status.

Half an hour later, no contact with either officer, I asked for back-up from control. (None available)

Now I was in a dilemma! If I left the frontage to go in and search, I’d leave all the equipment and tools at risk, if I called the police, control would not be happy… As I pondered my response, Andrew turned up, telling me that Mick was in the swimming pool in the basement, having a whale of a time.

So I thought, (bravely) it was my duty as site supervisor, to fetch him out and bollock him.

I told Andrew to stay at the front and keep his RT on, and I wended my way down through the maze of narrow stairs to the newly built heated swimmng pool.

I found a broadly smiling Mick getting back into his uniform after his moonlight swim. I stood staring straight ahead at his belt buckle which was at my chin level (He was a big lad) and pretended to tell him off.

The RT burst into life. It was Andrew, informing us that the Night Manager had just turned up!

At that precise time, a loud crack was heard from the cellar at the back near where the train lines ran.

I informed Andrew on the RT that we were going to take a look.

Mick and I went to investigate, we saw steam as we approached the door to that cellar, I tested the door for heat with the back of my hand, then gingerly opened the door… to be confronted by three balaclava wearing intruders who had just broken through into the cellar, bursting some hot water pipes en route.

Gulp, phwert!

Whether we were more surprised or they were, I cannot say.

Mick was struggling with one of the men as I got a clout on the head with something hard, a bar of some kind I think it was, then thank heavens Andrew and the Night Manager arrived on the scene, quickly followed by the police with a dog.

One of the very few times we were actually able to assist in the capture of any criminals.

I had to refuse the kind offer from the ambulance man to take me in for a quick check-up as the client was en-route and was not pleased apparently the Night Manager told me?

We came out of it with flying colours, and Mick and Andrew each got a commendation from the Chief Constable. (Why not I? I’ll never know!)

I hate to think what the outcome might have been if Mick hadn’t taken his moonlight dip!

More tales of security Woes to follow…

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