BODYGUARD CONFIDENTIAL
‘I left home in such a hurry I was wearing a suit – and red slippers
COMBINING the nail-biting tension of Line Of Duty with the rich political intrigue of House Of Cards, Bodyguard is the explosive new thriller which is set to grip the nation.
The series, which starts tonight on BBC1, has been written by Line Of Duty creator Jed Mercurio and stars Keeley Hawes as Julia Montague, a ruthlessly ambitious Home Secretary.
Game Of Thrones actor Richard Madden plays her police protection officer, David Budd, a veteran from the war in Afghanistan who harbours dark demons.
Mixing visceral action sequences with political skulduggery, it is an intoxicating drama that seems to lift the veil on the top-secret workings of the security operation at the heart of Westminster.
But how does the fiction measure up to the facts? We asked the first female Home Secretary Jacqui Smith, 55, and Detective Constable Paul Ellis, 63, a police protection officer to three Foreign Secretaries, to assess the high-octane first episode and deliver their uniquely qualified verdicts… HAVING served as a police protection officer for 16 years – guarding three Foreign Secretaries and one former Prime Minister – I was intrigued to find out how true to life Bodyguard would be.
Thankfully, real life was generally less dangerous for me than it is for Detective Sergeant David Budd, even when I was travelling to hotspots such as Iraq, Afghanistan and Iran. But the writers have done a terrific job in the way they’ve portrayed the life of a PPO. Although Budd has issues, he also has some of the key attributes required: calmness, clear thinking and flexibility.
There are details in the drama that certainly ring true. The back-up car when the Minister moves from place to place, for example: sometimes it will hang back, watching from the rear, and at other times it will sweep ahead to check the coast is clear.
The blue card the officer has to show to prove he’s authorised to carry a firearm – in this case a Glock 17 semi-automatic pistol – brought back memories.
We had to have our cards stamped every three months – but only if we attained 90 per cent accuracy on a firing range. It was stressful, and if someone failed, they would be sent away spitting and screaming and had to wait three days to try again.
The relationship between a PPO and their charge, or principal, is fluid in that he or she is not actually your boss – you’re a police officer and as far as security goes, you’re the boss.
A sequence where Julia Montague is overruled by her protection officer about the route home absolutely rings true. I remember once a principal huffily asking our driver: ‘Why are we taking this route?’ ‘Because I told him to,’ I interjected.
A frosty exchange between the fictional Chief Whip and the protection officer is clearly inspired by Andrew Mitchell and ‘Plebgate’. It’s rare, but could it happen? Yes. Have protection officers had cross words with politicians, even the PM? Yes they have. We’re human.
Julia Montague’s stroppiness, especially at first, also has the ring of truth for me – everyone has a bad day at the office sometimes. You learn to either say nothing, or something to break the ice.
It’s a working relationship, not only with the principal, but also with their family and spouse. For both the principal and the PPO, a lot of your personal life is sacrificed for the job and that really comes through in the first episode as you see Budd arriving at Montague’s flat early and leaving long after dark.
I used to work 12 to 16-hour days, or even longer sometimes in different time zones.
Boredom can be a challenge and you do have to remain switched on. We used to say that you don’t have to do a lot, but the little you have to do must be done impeccably well.
But you can never anticipate all eventualities.
Once, during a break from a busy schedule of meetings at the UN in New York, our Minister and his US counterpart stepped out on to First Avenue to get some fresh air, large security teams in tow.
As we walked, we heard a gospel choir and the American politician decided to take his British counterpart for a closer look. On entering the chapel, the American was immediately recognised by an usher: ‘ Welcome sir, how wonderful to see you. Thank you so much for coming to pay your respects.’ It was a funeral and we had to stay for what seemed an eternity before all rushing back late to the UN.
One weekend, I was summoned from home at short notice and as we sped along the motorway to meet the Minister, I looked down and realised that I was wearing a suit and tie – and red slippers. Unfortunately, there was no time to turn back.
I’ve been lucky to be married for 34 years, but there’s some dysfunctionality in the family backgrounds of officers, and plenty of police do work hard and play hard – there will be an element of drink, as is evident in the drama with Budd. But there is vetting, and in firearms you’re monitored with spot checks.
One particularly hairy moment was in Gibraltar with the Foreign Secretary. It was a very volatile situation with people literally wanting to rip him limb from limb, over a perception that the British might hand the territory back to Spain.
We drew up an elaborate plan involving speedboats, fast cars and RAF jets as possible escape routes. I remember a Foreign Office mandarin sniffily asking if the ‘James Bond’ measures were really necessary. I said yes, and was proved right because we needed the boat to get the Minister out in one piece.
It’s a TV thriller that promises Line Of Duty thrills and House Of Cards intrigue. But how true to life is its tale of an ambitious Minister and her ruthless guard? Only one way to find out – ask a REAL Home Secretary and cop to spill the beans on...
WHEN I was appointed Home Secretary in 2007, I had been a Minister for eight years and was used to the constant company of aides and officials.
But what I had never experienced before was the 24-hour-a-day presence of armed police officers as one of the senior Cabinet Ministers who receive personal protection.
Bodyguard focuses on the high-stakes political drama of the aftermath of a terror plot where the Home Secretary is planning the introduction of draconian surveillance powers.
A blazing row between the Chief Whip and the Home Secretary, for example, is entertaining but wholly unrealistic – not because they’re arguing, but because they’re doing it where journalists could see and hear.
However, it is the relationship between Julia Montague, the Home Secretary, and David Budd, her personal protection officer which is at the heart of the drama.
Thank goodness this is not a boy meets girl (who just happens to be Home Secretary) story, although at one point, they do both end up stripping off in a TV studio.
Protection officers are serious and brave.
They undergo extensive training and have often had police experience in other potentially dangerous areas.
They are obviously trained to do what’s necessary to protect their Minister, although there is a story about one of my predecessors announcing to a meeting that his protection team would throw themselves between him and a bullet.
‘Isn’t that right?’ he said to his protector.
‘Actually, sir, we’re there to arrest the man who shoots you,’ responded the unimpressed officer.
The only ‘live’ trouble I ever encountered with my team was after an Aston Villa match where they regularly accompanied me and my family in suitable casual clothing. Leaving the ground one Saturday, there was a bit of a scuffle.
With little drama, one of the team moved in to calm things down while the other moved me away. ‘Who do you think you are?’ asked a disgruntled fan.
‘You don’t want to know,’ responded my protection officer.
You could hardly make a good drama from the mundane reality of what it’s like to have personal protection.
I would have liked to see them try to make a compelling television scene out of the burly protection officer having to make small talk with constituents at a coffee morning.
I spent more time with the small team who protected me than with almost any other aide or official during my time at the Home Office.
It would be wrong and unworkable for a Minister to be as rude and difficult with her team as Julia Montague is in the drama.
I hope we don’t fall into an easy trap of seeing an ambitious female politician as necessarily unpleasant and cold.
David Budd is a troubled person suffering the effects of his active service in Afghanistan. I don’t think the Met Police pastoral care or security screening is going to come out of this well.
In fact, what you develop with your small team of protection officers is a close and friendly working relationship.
These people spend time with your family – they were with us on holiday in Wales providing some additional firepower to the beach cricket match.
My mum and dad liked them when they came with us on a family walk. You spend long journeys together in the car or on the train.
I was less keen to have men with guns outside the house where my children lived so they kept watch from nearby in a much more unobtrusive manner. However, any trip out has to be planned in advance so that the team can get to you. There is no popping down the road to buy a newspaper.
Once, feeling a bit stir crazy on a Sunday afternoon, I went out of the back of my house for walk in the woods without warning them.
I got a phone call after about ten minutes. ‘Are you all right, Ma’am?’ asked the officer. I didn’t try that again. Bodyguard is not a documentary about the job of either a Home Secretary or their protection team – thank goodness for that.
Instead, it is tense, exciting and stylish – I’ll be glued to my telly on Sunday evenings.
‘No politician could be as rude and difficult as Julia is in the drama’