All Right, Then, I'm A Softy

We had an East European in the dock a couple of weeks ago, charged with Class C (i.e. Cannabis) possession. So far, so run-of-the-mill.

We heard the facts, and it turned out that our man had been the victim of an assault in which he was stabbed several times, mercifully without danger to his life. Police went to the hospital, and took away his clothes, since they might have been of evidential value.

The clothes were inspected before being put into store, and that's when the wraps of drugs were found.

So after recovering from his wounds (the assailant either having been pathetically inexpert or just a chap who doesn't take any job seriously) the man finished up in front of the bench.

Well, what would you have done?

We decided that after being knifed, spending two weeks in hospital, and losing his stash as well as some of his limited stock of clothing, enough was enough.

Some would call our Conditional Discharge a wimp-out. We thought it was pretty fair, in all the circumstances.