Thread: Victorian Road Rules

Originally Posted by flagg

I used to drive my Alpina pretty hard.

What Alpina would that be? A modified BMW or something different? Pics?

Originally Posted by v12stuart

Yeh thats the first post. Look im most ****ed off about the fact that i lost 3 points for having my Ps 'obscured' by having a filthy back window (which is the same amount of points as driving on the wrong side of double lines and doing up to 25ks over the speed limit which is impossible in the rangy ) I'm pretty sure having 'obscured' Ps hasn't killed anyone. The high powered vehicles thing is also rubbish i have an 19yrold mate with an mitsu evo 9 with 550bhp and 750nm of torque and he has an exemption because it has 4 doors it can be considered a family car... go figure

It wasn't that many years ago that you wouldn't have got an ingringement notice for obscured or missing P plates.....you would have been sent a summons to go to Court and in most cases, would probably have lost your licence for a short time and an extended probationary period..........if the copper could be bothered with the paperwork.

Simple rule of thumb.....make sure they are clearly displayed.

I got done by a hidden speed camera in Victoria late last year, for doing 3km/hr over the limit in a 50 zone. I sucked it up, whilst it seems petty and pathetic, fact is, there is a speed limit and it doesn't take much effort to do it.

I am not that much beyond being a P-plater (I'm 22), my car all through my P's was a 1.2L Holden Barina, and a 2.4L 1985 Diesel Hilux. Neither are high powered fast cars, but by god, they can both be just as deadly. I thought I was invincible on my P's - who knew a little piddly engined Barina would do over 170km on GPS, and a 20 year old smokey diesel hilux would do 150. At those speeds any slip up would cause death. I was stupid, and I realise that now.

I have massive respect for the job police do now. I wish there was a higher presence on the road. The big turning point was when I rolled my first Land Rover - unfortunate accident - out near Cameron's Corner, cresting a hill and corner in late-ish afternoon, cow was on the road, only doing about 65km/h, but instinctively tried to swerve, hit a patch of bulldust and rolled 4 times. It was a policeman who picked me up, come 120km from Tibooburra driving the local ambulance. It was the same policeman who made the phone call to my parents telling them I had suspected head, neck and spinal injuries and was going to be flown by the RFDS to Broken Hill in a serious condition.

With respect to the original poster and topic, your P plates were obscured by a dirty windscreen, the police sound like they had a legitimate reason to write you a ticket, albeit slightly petty - what's your big gripe? If you REALLY think you did absolutely nothing wrong, take it to court and have it heard in a manner that might change the situation for you.

Originally Posted by mudmouse

And yes, I take exception to people with attitudes like the one you've demonstated in you post.

Matt.

Let me just say I get upset by uppity young uneducated cops who throw their weight around. I have great respect for the professional intelligent sensible members of the police profession, just its been years since I have run across any. Like any public job its the bad ones that wreck the respect for the good ones. I profusely apologise to any people I have offended.

Ahhh the good old days of policing...everyone wants the local cop to "kick their son up the arse and send him home..." but are the first to complain.

Below is an excerpt from a book - 'The Snowy - The People Behind the Power'... there is a Land Rover reference (that's for you LongingforaLandy) as it was used as a police vehicle. Tells of the legend of Bev Wales...we could do with Bev around still...but somehow, he probably wouldn't last 5 minutes in today's police farce...errrr force..

"Of all the men who policed the construction camps, only one man, however, became universally regarded as a legend in his own time ... Constable Bev Wales.

Bev Wales was renowned as being totally and utterly fearless. In 1955, after three years in Cooma, Bev began nurturing the idea of taking over a one-man station up in the mountains. He was about to marry the daughter of one of the Cooma sergeants and didn't want to stay too close to home.

Also, while conceding he had learned more about real police work in a month at Cooma than he would have in five years in Sydney, Cooma too was starting to become routine ... paper work and more paperwork and always to do with the same things -- brawls and road accidents.
"The locals and the 'wogs' as they were called were still feeling each other out. The local lads were toey. They didn't like the young foreigners coming down from the mountains with all their money. The migrant fellows didn't want trouble but they were only prepared to take so much. So there were hundreds of brawls and if a non-Australian was involved, it meant double the paperwork.
"And alcohol, speed, poor roads and extreme weather conditions meant a lot of pretty horrible accidents. Plenty of cars, often loaded with blokes, left the road in places where they'd drop hundreds of feet."
Bev wanted a beat where he took on all work. In December 1955 he sought and was happily granted, the job as replacement constable at Happy Jacks which had the reputation as the roughest camp on the Snowy. The workers there had grown accustomed to being a law unto themselves and had virtually driven out the previous constable.

Bev put a lot of thought into how he would approach his new assignment, his first lone command. From the start he decided he would not wear a uniform as his predecessor had done. He also realised he had to earn the men's respect using the only language they understood. It was a question of his own survival.
On the drive from Cooma to take up his new position he stopped at the wet canteen at Junction Shaft, which was on his new beat and was where a lot of the Happy Jacks' workers drank.
There were a dozen or so fellows drinking. Bev stood, framed in the doorway, until he had their attention: "My name's Bev Wales. I'm the new constable," he said simply.
For a moment the men looked as though they hadn't heard him clearly, then responded with a chorus of whistling and cat-calls.
"So if there's anyone here who thinks he can stop me, then he had better try it now before I unpack my Landrover."
The wolf whistles and jeers got even louder and four solidly built Australians slid off their stools. It wasn't every day a copper actually asked to be punched. They approached the young constable, leering, savouring the moment. They paused just beyond an arm's length, then moved in swinging.

Every account of the incident is the same. Bev Wales used four, maybe five punches to lay the four men out on the floor. He bundled them into the back of his Landrover and continued on to Happy Jacks to lock them up for the night.
"They got a bit of a surprise," Bev said later. Everybody did. Within hours the incident was being recountered throughout the surrounding camps. Happy Jacks had won a package deal, a new constable and prisoners in the one delivery.
By the end of his first month Bev Wales had locked up forty men, most of whom spent several nights in a cell nursing bruised jaws and foreheads.
"Over the years they had gone berserk. There was no law and order whatsoever. Living up in the mountains they thought they were beyond the law. The lawlessness had to stop and I was the one sent to do it," Bev said.
He rarely worked less than sixteen hours a day. His patrol ranged from Eucumbene Portal near Adaminaby (the entrance to the Eucumbene-Tumut tunnel), to Tolbar Camp, up to Happy Jacks, Cabramurra, Kiandra, Kenny's Knob, Tumut Pond, Tooma camp and all areas in between. He was a lone policeman among six thousand workers and the only link between most of the camps on his beat were rough bulldozer tracks.
Bev Wales backed away from no situation, even when he was out-numbered. When brawling men were told Bev was on the way, his reputation preceded him like a bow wave, often quelling disturbance before he arrived. Bev spent sixteen years in the mountains while the Snowy was under construction. He survived through a mixture of police field-craft and bush psychology shaped by the instincts of a boy from the bush.

He attributes his success in handling the men to his decision not to wear a uniform and not to carry a baton: "Bring out a baton in a brawl and you would put everyone offside. But take a man on with just your fists and the others respected you. If you did get into trouble they'd even help you ... but belt one of their mates with a baton and they'd kill you."

What most endeared Bev Wales to law abider and offender alike was that it became apparant at an early stage that he cared for people. He often preferred to allow bush justice to be dealt, rather than invoke officialdom by which a man might lose his job.
"Often I'd arrest a bloke and he'd say: 'Let me fight you Mr Wales. If I win you let me go, eh?'
"The fellows were afraid of losing their jobs so I'd say okay. We'd pair up in the lockup, exchange a few blows till I gave him a good thump and it was over. It was summary justice, something you couldn't do today but it kept the peace there.
"They had no respect for anybody who was soft. They were tough fellows and they expected you to be the same. You had to meet them on equal terms."
But Bev Wales didn't spend all his time thumping recalcitrant construction workers. The biggest workload for all policemen in the mountains arose from the horrific death toll, both on the roads and at the construction sites.
"At Khancoban alone I handled ninety inquests and no death was clean. Men were cut in half, decapitated, blown to pieces, or squashed by huge boulders.
"Death was frequent and it was part of my job. Tunnels collapsed, air hoses burst, truck brakes failed and bulldozers and trucks and cars toppled into ravines. You had to handle a lot of grief and tragedy."

For you Mark...Series I police Landy stationed at Ivanhoe in 1958.

MICKS nice, life in the old days was tough!!!...


nice change of direction!

digger

Originally Posted by digger

MICKS nice, life in the old days was tough!!!...


nice change of direction!

digger

Bev. Wales boss in Cooma was another legendary & formidable copper whose name has escaped my memory. He was about 6'6" in all directions, no neck, a head like a boiled pudding, and little piggy eyes. His method of breaking up brawls was to wade in, grab two men by an ear each, and slam their heads together with considerable force, then move on to the next pair. With Bev. Wales at his back, this system worked admirably. The occasional European immigrant would pull a knife and then really found out about the "full force" of the law. A period in hospital followed by a prison sentence would follow. "Assault police with a deadly weapon" was frowned upon by magistrates. Other charges usually were "Affray" and "Resist Arrest".

Hey Mick! Thanks for the photo and story. My boss knew Bev Wales back in the day, i'll have to see if he can recount the story too. Almost wish there were a few coppers like him in my area, except the lawyers would have 'em for breakfast
-Mark
P.S. think i'll get a cops are tops sticker for my County