A rising tide of armed crime means there is more pressure than ever for police officers to be routinely armed.

But carrying a weapon also carries a heavy responsibility in the name of protecting the public. Nick Morrison looks at who takes on this burden.

WHEN the call came in, it could have been any other domestic incident. A mother reported that her adult son had become violent, was wrecking the house and was in possession of a weapon of some sort. The first officer at the scene had called for assistance, but when PC Paul Hutchinson arrived, it was to find the mother holding a knife to her son's body. What happened next took only a few seconds, but could have cast a shadow over the rest of Paul's career, even his life.

"We asked the mother to step away from her son, which she did, but then he became aggressive towards us," says Paul. "He is dealt with using CS and open hand techniques, but then the mother comes up behind my colleague with a knife, in a position of attacking someone.

"I immediately went for my weapon because I was too far away to get to her. As it happened, her husband then grabbed hold of her and pulled her away and she dropped the knife. My reaction was to protect my colleague - nothing went through my mind apart from his safety."

In the 18 months since he was authorised to carry firearms, that is probably the closest Paul has got to using them. It is not a situation he wants to see repeated too often.

"If you have to wake up for the rest of your life knowing you have taken somebody's life away from them, that is an issue you will have to deal with. It is something you hope and pray will never happen but it is something you have to consider. You can't say if it happens you will pull the trigger, because you don't know. You have got to hope that your training and your common sense and judgement will take over and you will deal with the incident appropriately."

Paul, 30, has been a member of the armed response team at Cleveland Police since September. Before that, he spent a year as an authorised firearms officer (AFO), meaning he could be issued with weapons under certain circumstances. But being a member of the armed response team means he carries a gun whenever he is on duty.

At any one time, two patrol cars each with two armed officers will be on duty in the Cleveland area, one north of the Tees and one south, with AFOs available for support if necessary. When not on duties involving an armed response, the team undertakes traffic duties.

"Being covertly armed in public was difficult at first," says Paul. "You could go to a road traffic accident and start speaking to people and then they look and see the gun.

"When you join the police and put on a uniform, you think everybody is looking at you and everybody is looking at you, but after four or five months you get over it. But with firearms, you get people looking at you and you think 'I'm doing the same job, it's just that I've got a weapon'. You do see the reaction from the public when they see you're armed. You don't forget you've got a gun, because you can't."

Cleveland's firearms officers carry a 9mm Sig Sauer pistol and their armed response vehicles are also equipped with MP5 and Sig 551 rifles, locked securely away when not in use.

"It is not until you hear a radio message mentioning a firearm that you think there is only me and my colleague, and a couple of other colleagues, who are covertly armed, but as a firearms officer you have got to get on with it," says Paul.

Firearms officers for both the Cleveland and Durham forces are trained at the joint tactical training centre at Urlay Nook, between Darlington and Stockton. All are volunteers, and are assessed on their teamwork, initiative, self-motivation and decision-making skills, says head of centre, Inspector Dave Orford.

"Every police officer, in the course of their work, will potentially be faced with a life-threatening situation and may be forced to defend themselves or defend the public," says Insp Orford. "With firearms officers, with the nature of their role, they're potentially going to come up against that sort of decision a lot more than a beat officer, so the level of training has to be a lot higher.

'POLICE officers have to make a decision in a fraction of a second, and the consequences of that decision can last years. Unlike in the armed services, the decision to shoot or not to shoot is a decision for the individual."

Although would-be firearms officers are given a gun to hold as part of the selection procedure, this is to see how they react to it, not to test their shooting ability. This is something that can be taught - as long as they handle the gun properly, they will be accurate.

Much of the three-to-four-week training course concentrates on tactics, on dealing with a variety of scenarios. "Communication skills are vastly more important than ability to shoot, because they can transform a situation where they might have to decide whether to shoot or not, into one where they can achieve their aim by talking to somebody," says Insp Orford.

Paul Hutchinson says he volunteered to become a firearms officer for the same reason he decided to become a police officer: to protect the public. "I have two young children, and if they were in danger I would hope that someone like me would be there to protect them, and with firearms you have more tools at your disposal to do that," he says.

"People ask if it's dangerous and it is dangerous, but at least if you're armed you've got a chance of dealing with someone else who is armed. To me it is more dangerous being an unarmed panda driver, because all you have is your wits."

No Cleveland officer has ever fired their weapon, and few have drawn them apart from in pre-planned operations, but Paul is keenly aware of the responsibility of carrying a gun. He knows he has to be able to justify drawing a gun, and if he ever does fire the consequences are likely to be fatal.

"There is no such thing as a warning shot, there is no such thing as 'shoot them in the leg and hope they will stop'. You shoot at the centre of mass, and you know if you do that you could kill them," he says. "I know I could go on a job and it all goes wrong and I could do 25 years in prison for a decision that was wrong. But you weigh that up with the maniac with a gun, and you think what would happen if your own child was a hostage and I would rather be able to deal with that. To me, the risk is worth the responsibility."