From The Times, Friday Oct 6, 1933
There will be general gratification at the news that Mr Frank FISK, of Battersea, who for the past week has been lying wounded in hospital, is now out of danger. Mr. FISK was until very recently quite unknown to fame; but the manner in which he received his honourable scars has made him a public and highly respected character. The incident occurred in the early afternoon of September 27, when a Battersea Estate Agent shouted for help against certain men, whose identity has yet to be established, who were believed to be thieves, were certainly armed, and had invaded his office. The cry was taken up in the streets, and came to the ears of Mr. FISK who was pursuing his avocation as a bricklayer at the top of a ladder some distance away. But the craft of bricklaying is only Mr. FISK’s secondary calling; he also holds in the profession of the law an important and responsible position – that of one of the KING’s lieges. In this capacity it was one of his duties to assist in the preservation of the KING’s peace. Mr. FISK knew his duty and did not stop to discuss it or to consider the risks which he ran in executing it. What he did was to leave his ladder forthwith and to set off in pursuit of two men who could be seen making their flight from the estate agent’s office. In so doing he conformed with the habits of countless generations of his ancestors, subjects of QUEEN ELIZABETH or WILLIAM the CONQUEROR or ALFRED the GREAT, who had gone upon the like errands in obedience to the same law. Like them he discharged his legal duty at the risk of his life, and he fell severely wounded by a bullet in the leg. Before himself abandoning the chase, however, he was able to call up his fellow-bricklayer , Mr. FRAZER, and send him to continue the pursuit. Thereafter the search became the business of Mr. FISK’s more specialised colleagues in the service of the law who wear a blue uniform and are paid for their services; and he himself was removed to receive surgical aid.
Now if a moral is to be drawn from the exploit of Mr. FISK, a recent work of Mr. PRIESTLEY’s affords a warning against any attempt to make of him a “wonder hero”. That indeed would be to miss the significance of his action. Let it be said at once, then, that The Times has reserved no suite of rooms for Mr. FISK at the Ritz Hotel, and makes no proposal that he should abandon his craft of bricklaying for a career on the films. His brave and public-spirited action would lose half its value if it was treated as extraordinary, and Mr. FISK, being the man he has shown himself to be, would probably be the first to protest. Like many of his countrymen, he may be little versed in constitutional history and ignorant of the ancient institution of the hue and cry, out of which so much of our machinery for the prevention of crime has developed. He may be modestly unaware that he has given a demonstration of the working of that august organism, the British Constitution. He probably thinks that what he did was the obvious thing to do.
Etc.
(This was Frank Arthur James Fisk, b. 1883 Battersea)
