WOW

Wow!   I've become overwhelmed by the response to my book "It's all in the Fall". It is a wonderful experience to receive emails from long, lost workmates.   Today I received one from Bob Dyson, who retired in 1984 as an Assistant Superintendent.   Bob was a great man working in the Prison system, who taught me a lot.   We became great friends and had visited each other at our homes.   He was also the first person that I knew who owned a coloured television set.

Also today I received an email from Paul Lefoe, who retired as a Superintendent. I have written about Paul Lefoe in Volume One of my next book "Cutting the Bars" which I am planning on releasing within the next two weeks.   The story of Paul begins with a quote from General George S. Patton, The great things a man does, appear to be great, only after they are done.   When they're at hand, they are normal decisions and are done without knowledge of their greatness."   Paul was an outstanding Officer and a razor in battle.  

Paul was also a very good and loyal friend whose company and friendship was always valued by Margaret and myself.   I am sure everyone will enjoy reading about his exploits shortly.

Peter T. Egge
peter@peteregge.com

EXTRACT FROM THE BOOK “IT’S ALL IN THE FALL"

SENIOR PRISON OFFICER GEORGE MORRIS – A TRUE LEADER     

George Morris was a Senior Prison Officer who was a real rough diamond in the true meaning of the term.  He was English and very rough around the edges. This man was never going to be the Commissioner of Corrective Services.  Although he really knew his job, the Department could have done with a few more good men like him.

One night on the “C” watch in the CIP, Mr Morris and I entered a cell on the top landing of 4 wing so as to allow the “C” watch nurse to give the prisoner in that cell an injection.

When the sister gave the injection to the prisoner his heart stopped instantly. The sister stepped back and just stood there looking at the prisoner.  She went very pale in the face. I have no idea if she gave him the wrong injection or if the prisoner was allergic to whatever the injection was.

Without hesitation, Mr Morris immediately started to give the prisoner heart compressions.  He looked at me and instructed me to take over.  I said “I don’t know how, I haven’t been trained to do it”. He bellowed back “Just do what I’m doing”. So I did!  I asked him, “Is this right” and he quickly replied “Yes, just keep doing that I’ll be back in a moment”. With that Mr Morris left the cell with the night sister. I was left in the cell on my own giving compressions to a dead man.

It only seemed like a few seconds and Mr Morris appeared at the cell door with a stretcher and four prison officers. He instructed me to keep doing compressions and for the other officers to lift the prisoner onto the stretcher.  As the prisoner landed on the stretcher we hurried out the cell door and down the stairs.  Mr Morris kept reassuring me I was doing well with my compressions.

We took the prisoner straight out the front gate and ran up the road with the prisoner still on the stretcher and me giving compressions as we went. All of the normal protocols and procedures were dispensed with for transferring a prisoner from one gaol to another.

As we arrived at the MRP gate the officers were waiting for us and one half of the main gate flew open. We went straight through the second gate turned right and headed for the prison hospital.

The prisoner was carried into ward one where a doctor and two nursing sisters were waiting for us. The doctor instructed me to keep doing compressions, a nurse put an oxygen mask on the prisoner and the doctor gave him an injection.  With that the prisoner opened his eyes and started to breathe again.

It was Mr Morris’s ability to remain calm and in control in that situation, along with his understanding that there were occasions within the strict prison discipline, where it was necessary to throw the rule book out.  Most of all it was his organisational skills that ultimately saved that young prisoner’s life.  Mr Morris should have received a special commendation for his actions that day.

Peter T. Egge

Brien “Inky” Eastwell

The Gaol grapevine is well known within the prison system. I would sometimes start a rumour in the morning simply for my own amusement, I could almost guarantee I would be told the same rumour back before the lunch break.

Brien “Inky” Eastwell had heard on the grapevine that I was visiting Frank and Rose Hutchen Last Wednesday. Frank and Rose were showing Bob Wood and me around their beautiful back garden when Inky turned up to say hullo, he was now in his early eighties and looked very spritely all considered.

I had trained Inky sometime in the late seventies he told me I had given him some good advice along the way which I was pleased to hear. Before becoming a Prison Officer Inky was a trade’s person a panel beater, in Inky’s case to call him a tradesman is not fair, he was a Craftsman and only worked on high end vehicles.

Inky told me he was rubbing the panel on a Rolls Royce when he said to himself “I can’t do this for the rest of my life” and promptly joined the NSW Department of Corrective Services. He contently lingered at the bottom of the food chain at prison officer level and later as an overseer, equivalent to First Class Prison Officer only he was on the industries side until he retired. I was thrilled he had thought enough of me to take the trouble and time to visit me, and I thoroughly enjoyed chatting to him.

Peter T Egge