A LIFE STORY From war to Springbok tour, ‘Puff’ did his duty
Colin Roger Cotterrell, policeman: b Malvern, Worcestershire, England, January 4, 1928; m Joyce Clarke 2s, 2d; d Paraparaumu, June 20, 2014, aged 86.
AMONG his many friends in police and Kapiti Boating Club circles, retired Wellington policeman Roger Cotterrell was known as ‘‘Puff ‘’ – a nickname derived from his lifelong attachment to pipe smoking.
His 30-year career in New Zealand police began at the police training school in Trentham in 1957. In his memoirs, he recalled that his most rewarding policing days coincided with the 1981 Springbok tour, when Commissioner Bob Walton appointed him Wellington Central Division commander.
The controversial tour’s rigorous demands saw him working huge hours, staying at the Waring Taylor St police station until 2am on most mornings.
‘‘It was like that for weeks and weeks. It might seem strange but it was the best time in the police for me. I hated paperwork but other than the orders, it [the tour] was all action.
‘‘It was great. I thoroughly enjoyed it,’’ Cotterrell said.
In his role as Springbok tour regional commander, the troops on the front line found their boss to be a considerate man in very difficult policing conditions.
His investigative roles in two highprofile South Island murder cases were also highlights in Cotterrell’s police career.
While based in Dunedin he was involved in the investigation of the unsolved parcel bombing of Dunedin lawyer James Patrick Ward. The thenDetective Sergeant Cotterrell was the police explosives expert in this case.
His biggest ‘‘catch’’ however during his police career was the role he played in the apprehension and conviction of Waihaorunga farmer, John Alexander Ramsay, 23, for the 1967 murder of 17-year-old Waimate woman Gillian Thompson.
Thompson’s body was found on January 22 in an offal pit on Ramsay’s farm. Cotterrell helped solve the case when he personally tracked down the murderer, via a tipoff relating to a Zephyr car with a defective headlight, which had been associated with Ramsay on the night of the murder.
After shifting north to Whanganui in the 1970s following his lengthy stint in the South Island Cotterrell wrote to the then head of the police criminal investigation branch (CIB) in Wellington, Bob Walton, seeking a transfer to the capital.
The letter subsequently saw him promoted to an inspector’s position at Wellington’s Waring Taylor St station before he moved on to be a personal aide to two police commissioners, Ken Burnside and Walton.
Much earlier, on August 16, 1951, Cotterrell had sailed for New Zealand on board the SS Atlantis from Southampton with the promise of a job working for the Taranaki Herd Improvement Association.
A year after arriving in Taranaki, he married Joyce Clarke, a sister of a former All Black, Ray Clarke.
In his early days, aged 13, the young Cotterrell began training for a life at sea when he enrolled as a pupil on the training ship Mercury.
The new recruit was given the number 3127. The school was run by former England cricket international CB Fry.
In his memoirs Cotterrell recalled how one of the female administrators at this school used to sit on a high-backed chair behind an office window.
Apparently a bullet from a German plane that came over one day went through this window. It then went through the female administrator’s chair, narrowly missing her.
The boys did not like this woman, who was a strict disciplinarian, very much at all.
After the near miss however Cotterrell recalled how his fellow classmates at the maritime school suddenly became very religious themselves. They changed their ways, willingly went to church and fervently prayed – ‘‘please send the Germans back, but (please God) don’t miss this time’’.
AT 15 Cotterrell joined the merchant navy. His first ship was the SS Langleecrag which he joined in Liverpool.
He walked up the gangway where he was met by a scruffy sailor on the deck. ‘‘Good day, sir,’’ Cotterrell said. The reception was hardly friendly. ‘‘Sir! Bloody hell! Who the hell are you?’’ the sailor asked.
Following the pleasantries, the new boy was welcomed aboard and promptly given an empty treacle tin before being ordered to stand in a 40-gallon drum. The drum was then lowered down into the hold where he spent three days cleaning out the bilge.
Within a week of reporting for duty with the merchant navy Cotterrell made a name for himself on board the SS Langleecrag when he was credited with shooting down a German aircraft while manning an Oerlikon anti-aircraft gun on his first voyage to the Mediterranean.
His next brush with death came some time later when his ship was berthed at the Dagenham Docks on the River Thames in London, when the area came under attack from a long-range V2 missile.
Cotterrell was nightwatchman and was supposed to stay awake while on duty.
His last memory before the missile hit was being on the starboard side of the ship. When he regained consciousness he found himself on the port side near the gangplank entrance.
He was then told by an engineer that a V2 missile had hit a minesweeper astern of their ship and he’d suffered a back wound.
While having his relatively minor back wound treated by hospital nursing staff Cotterrell came across a man who had had a leg blown off when the missile exploded.
This man’s wit and sense of indomitable Cockney humour made a big impression upon Cotterrell for the rest of his days.
While drinking a cup of soup, the cockney called out to his mate, ‘‘Hey Arfur, if they offer you some soup, you bloody well drink it.
‘‘If you don’t, they’ll shove you in one door and poke it up your a... before taking you out the other door.’’
This was his way of dealing with the pain of having had a leg blown off and telling a mate how he had been given an enema prior to surgery.
In his long retirement Cotterrell, one of life’s genuine characters, lived in Paraparaumu. He was a keen Kapiti Island fisherman and wrote the book Fishing for the Pot around Kapiti.
He is survived by his two daughters, Adele and Carol, and his two sons, Andrew and Greg.