It's the Brixton riots. Streets covered in broken glass, vehicles overturned and set ablaze. The police on the front line have only rudimentary riot gear to protect them from a hail of bricks and bottles, and even a few petrol bombs.
One young officer cracks. He breaks from the line and runs as fast as he can away from the screaming mob, throwing down his shield and baton. Exhausted, he slumps to his knees in a shop doorway, sobbing in fear and shame. "Stand up that officer" booms a voice full of authority. "This is the Commander"
"Bloody hell" says the young PC. "I didn't realise I'd run that far".
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