Thirty-three year old police constable Alan George Baxter was murdered
by his namesake, twenty-year-old Alan Derek Poole in June, 1951 for no good
reason except Alan Poole fancied himself an anti-hero.
Alan Poole had been
known as a ‘bad lot’ with a long history of offending. The first recorded offence was in 1946 for
office-breaking, after which he was sent to an approved school. After absconding, he broke into a Chatham
sports pavilion which resulted in three years Borstal training. Again, Poole escaped but was arrested and
sent back to Borstal.
This disturbed young man, who was one of ten
children, was, by now, harbouring a pathological hatred of the police. But he adored American gangster films and
comics and liked to model himself on their anti-heroes, talking like them, even
honing his walk into a swagger just like a film-star gangster. He was equally thrilled by knives and
weapons.
In 1949 Poole absconded once more but this time
he threatened a constable with a knife and was sent back to Borstal yet again.
Then, on 5 June, 1951, a young man, David Tutt
and three male friends were confronted in the Luton area of Chatham by Alan
Poole with two girls. Poole was masked
and carried a Sten gun in the crook of his arm. Poole threatened the young men and they fled, but decided to tell
the occupant of a nearby cottage about the hostile gunman. The cottager called his dog and returned to
‘have a word’ with the masked man but Poole merely fired another volley of
rounds at them.
A 999 call was made to the police. P.C. Baxter, who lived in Palmerston Road,
received the report of a gunman hiding in Luton, an area of Chatham. P.C. Baxter was an experienced officer,
having been in the force since 1938.
This unfortunate policeman was under some stress himself, as his father
had recently died and his wife had given birth to a stillborn baby.
P.C. Baxter, who was based at the old police
station just off New Road, went to investigate with two other PCs, Langford and
Brown. At the Hen & Chickens in Luton Road, the policemen were waved down by
the little group that had been fired on and they explained what had happened
and where they thought the gunman was hiding.
P.C.s Langford and Brown entered the corporation rubbish dump, while
P.C. Baxter remained in the car. There
were some huts surrounding the dump and P.C. Langford peered in the broken
window of one of the huts and saw Poole and the two women opening the door. P.C. Langford rushed around to the front but
was greeted by a hail of bullets from the automatic weapon. Fortunately, the shots missed and Langford
escaped death by inches.
Meanwhile, Alan Poole ran to the police car and
fired at it, shattering the windscreen.
Drawing out his truncheon (Baxter was otherwise unarmed) the policeman
pushed open the squad car door. But the
gunman fired again and P.C. Alan Baxter was shot several times and fell to the
ground, while Poole jumped over a gate and vanished.
P.C. Langford tried to console P.C. Alan
Baxter, but the latter seemed to know he could not survive his terrible
wounds. ‘I’ve had it. I’m going,’ said the brave P.C. as he was
rushed to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital.
A search ensued between Luton, Blue Bell Hill
and Wigmore areas. Poole’s two young women companions were found and
turned out to be escapees from a Gloucester remand home. They explained that Poole had stolen the
Sten gun when he was a member of the Royal Corps of Signals. They also said that Alan Poole was only
‘showing off’ when he attacked P.C. Langford on the Monday night.
Poole’s
parents lived in Symons Avenue, where armed police surrounded the house,
believing the perpetrator of this awful crime to be inside. At 8.00am, Alan Poole’s father Albert
returned from his nightshift and everything was silent till next morning when
eleven-year-old sister, Doreen, left to go to school. Unexpectedly, she returned home, very upset. The other girls had laughed at her because
they’d heard her brother, Alan, had shot at a policeman. Mrs. Poole sat down to write a note to the
school, but Alan, overhearing, told his family to get out, as he was going to
‘shoot it out with the cops.’ He was
talking wildly, and was still under the influence of the American media,
‘They’ll never take me alive. I’ll kill
the bastards.’
At 9.00am Mrs. Poole and her daughter left the
house and there was a burst of Sten gun fire from the back. Alan Poole had moved about 50 yards away
from the house and opened fire in the direction of his father. The armed police closed in as Poole
retreated to an upstairs bedroom continuing to fire, indiscriminately, at
police. Reinforcements were called for
and some people said it was exactly like a siege.
The police decided to introduce tear gas
grenades, but still Alan Poole carried on with his furious bombardment. Eventually, a group of police officers led
by Chief Superintendent, C.F. Broughton bashed down the door and rushed
inside. Soon, there was a white
handkerchief waving out of a window to tell everyone outside that it was
over. Poole had been killed by the last
round of return fire.
P.C. Baxter died in hospital eighteen hours after
admittance and was laid to rest on the 11 June. The following day, 12 June, the funeral was held of Alan Poole,
his cold-hearted murderer.
I think I actually have a relative called Albert Poole. I must make a mental note of checking my family records. How embarrassing.
ReplyDeleteMy Dad was a policeman in Maidstone when this happened. I remember him telling me about it, but 30 years later he had some of the details wrong. He said he remembered policemen being issued with .303 Lee Enfield army rifles at Maidstone police station. He also said the police dragged Poole's body out of the house into the gutter.
ReplyDeletethe police were issued with rifles and a sten gun, there is a photo of a cop holding pool's sten gun found at the house and another of a cop aiming another sten gun at the house during the siege, none of the press reports mention that pool had dug an underground bunker in the back garden and a tunnel leading to the kitchen when he was on the run from borstal, my dad was born nearby in 1930 and remembers watching the siege from the end of symons ave, it was the talk of chatham. PC Baxter was cremated at Charing.
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