“Make This Your Last Day?” A Thought on the Bus Driver Who Fell Asleep at the Wheel

So, bus driver Xavier Peediyakal of Swindon, admits he fell asleep at the wheel when he collided with an oncoming vehicle, and has been banged up for eighteen months. We are sorry to hear the Calne BMW driver with whom he collided with sustained multiple injuries and a few passengers on the bus also received minor injuries, but have to question remarks made about the incident by PC Leigh Mayhew, of Wiltshire Police’s Serious Collision Investigation Team….

For, it seems, PC Leigh Mayhew also dozed off when he left the real world, but at least passed his level one in supercilious patronisation at training college. He stated on a Wiltshire Police Facebook post, “the case should send a clear message to drivers, especially those operating large vehicles, of their responsibilities to operate safely. Tiredness can kill – please take a break if you feel that your tiredness is likely to impact your ability to drive safely.” Well, I never; who knew?!

See Facebook Post Here

The key point here is legally he is correct, of course; legally it is the responsibility of the driver. The company which employs him is not to be blamed, nor the system which pushes the buttons; the wheels on the bus go round and round. But as it’s Sunday I’ve got a story to tell which I feel relevant, so if you’re sitting comfortably then I’ll begin….. 

Once upon a time I was pleased to be back working after struggling to find a job for a year. I was to be a delivery driver for a company you will likely know. I will not name them as I believe they have since changed management, and hopefully work ethics. A week into my job, ending my day last afternoon I was told tomorrow I was on “the London run.” This consisted of a 2am start time; my argument I had never done the run before fell on deaf ears. On a zero hours contract I started when they told me, I finished when they told me, and if they didn’t have any work, my family did not eat.

Let’s call the chap who usually does this run, Rupert, for want to add a smidgen of humour to an otherwise unamusing anecdote. “Look at Rupert,” the boss barked, “he’s walking around with two stones in his eyes, someone else has to do the run as well.” Funny thing; they didn’t tell Rupert he had the morning off, and was there upon my arrival, so joined me to show me the ropes. Lucky he did, the sat-nav was as much use as a chocolate fireguard, and being the concept was to deliver to a few locations and return with one big collection ready for the daytime vans, I would never have found my way and be back in time without his occasional navigation tips, through snoring the remaining journey.

On the return journey I supposed I would be put on a local run which ended earlier than rest, he just laughed at my naivety. I was told to swap vans, as it was the only one they had left; a Mercedes, the pride of fleet, and I was to do “the Swindon run,” which I had also never done before. A deceiving title, the route took me through Marlborough to Wotton Bassett and Wroughton, into Swindon, sure, but continued to Newbury, Oxford, right into Buckinghamshire and the North Cotswolds; oh, how we laughed!

Later in my employment it was a run I would master, but without guidance on any running order, I devised to head north from Swindon, take out the Cotswolds, and loop back through Oxfordshire to finish at Newbury. Being I had been working since 2am without a break, time was of the essence, but my sequence was, of course, wrong; the phone rang when I was at Bicester to bark annoyance at me, I hadn’t done the drop at Newbury and they were desperate. I turned around and raced back down the notorious A34, and back up again. To cut an exceptionally boring story short, it was 6:30pm when I reached my final drop near Buckingham. It was chucking it down by the time I returned to base in Devizes, and after eighteen and half hours of consistent driving my eyes were near closing by their own accord. So much so, I caught the rear bumper on the wall of the narrow entrance to base, and scratched it.

I was accused of “deliberate sabotage,” and yelled at no end. It was the first time of many I had heard their infamous saying “make this your last day, then?” For if you refused a job, no matter how long you had already worked for that day, there were, apparently, a thousand more people out there willing to. If you did not complete the task as quickly as possible, despite a more formal job description being you should not speed, you would be lucky if you, and your family too, were only mocked in an insanely offensive form of banter and not handed your P45.

I continued with this absurdity, bit my tongue and took the corporate shafting for years, so I could put food on the table. I have to wonder if PC Leigh Mayhew has any understanding of this situation, as it is for millions of unskilled workers.

Of course, you are right, Leigh, tiredness can kill, but we know this, and anyone with an ounce of moral standing would so obviously abide by it. You are only preaching to the converted, the ones without said moral standing will not take heed, neither will the pressure of the system of a competitive market.

Replies to the Facebook post reflect this: “Maybe he wasn’t able to take adequate rest breaks. Maybe he felt he couldn’t report to his superiors that he wasn’t fit to drive. I would have less sympathy if he was driving a personal vehicle that he had a choice to drive but to be paid to do a job sometimes you feel obligated to push through no matter how crappy you might feel.”

You say don’t drive tired but it’s almost unavoidable when companies will work you to the bone and if you call in because you’re tired you will be penalised for it. What are we meant to do when either option is to risk your job?”

“Take a good look people. This is what happens when there is a driver shortage.

The company reports millions in profit, shares that with the irresponsible shareholders and doesn’t think to share it amongst the people who really matter. But instead will put all the pressure on said individuals!”

“Message to drivers??!!!! Maybe to companies, is them making drivers work long hours!!!! Try to sit for 5.30 hours constantly and don’t get tired!!!!”

There’s a whole lot of exclamation marks on that last quote, which I think suggests an exclamation, defined as “a sudden cry or remark expressing surprise or a strong emotion,” because it is a crying shame and a shocking surprise that a leading officer of Wiltshire Police could be so insensitive to the daily affairs of a wider issue than this particular isolated incident.

I am unaware of the work ethics of Stagecoach, but believe they should look into it, but not to single out any one company, as many, let’s face it, are guilty of pushing drivers to their limits, and drivers are persuaded to do this in order to protect their job. It is not an open and shut case to simply prosecute the driver, but the police’s job to investigate why a driver was driving so tired.

I’m not ruling out a driver might well be burning the candle at both ends, it may well be the case in certain circumstances, but a fear of your job if you tell them you are not up to the task is the culprit in my more general rant, given my personal experience. And they all lived happily ever after, the end.