Experience: a Swat team held me at gunpoint by mistake

We were a small group of actors, on our way to perform at a corporate press launch for a Fujitsu printer. I’d written something for them a year before in the style of It Ain’t Half Hot Mum – four actors camping it up as military officers – and they loved it. This time, they wanted me to ramp up the drama. On their advice, I rented two fake SA80 assault rifles, black balaclavas, full camo flak jackets and boots for the four of us. It was the late 90s – more innocent times, when it was easy enough to rent imitation firearms.

I was 23 at the time. I’d been a successful child actor on television and then moved into corporate entertainment. I was full of confidence; this was just another gig. The client had booked us to stay overnight at the Danebury Arms in Andover, a military town in Hampshire. We decided to bring the guns in from the car as we were worried about theft.

Someone spotted us and alerted the police. It was a bad time to be seen with fake guns. That week, the Orange Order were marching in Northern Ireland. Our group was made up of three guys and a girl, which also stacked the odds against us; apparently IRA terrorist cells often consisted of that ratio.

The CID officer in charge couldn’t match our names to our hotel booking as it had been made by Fujitsu. It was 11pm, so impossible to contact anyone at their office. Instead, the police requested the blueprints of the pub from the landlady and a major operation was planned in the dead of night.

Apparently, it took them four hours to gather enough snipers, Swat teams and SAS officers from around the country. Quietly, the hotel was evacuated, all apart from our four single rooms. Fibre-optic cameras were slid under our doors, and officers were placed outside each room. Then, at 3am, all four doors were bust open.

“Where are the guns, where are the guns?” the masked firearms officer shouted at me. It was a hot July night, so not only was I asleep, I was totally naked.

At first I thought the other actors – Trevor, Barry and Sally – were playing a trick on me. But our rented uniforms were camouflage, whereas these guys were wearing all black. I started to freak out. I kept saying, “We’re actors, we’re actors!” They didn’t listen. I was thrown against the wall and handcuffed, while another officer tipped up my mattress and a third came in with an alsatian dog. The atmosphere was tense and violent. The officers were pumped up. They had come to kill us, if necessary. It took me a while to realise they were police: I thought they were terrorists, and they thought I was a terrorist.

I was held at gunpoint for 20 minutes by two officers. In the full-length mirror I could see the reflection of two red dots on my head. I could hear screaming from next door, so I knew the other three were getting similar treatment.

Fortunately, I had the receipt for the rental of the weapons and the costumes on the bedside table. Then, one of the officers recognised Barry from his semi-regular role on The Bill. It was all starting to add up.

Still, we had our rights read to us. I had to ask an officer if I could put my underpants on first. He picked up my discarded Y-fronts from the floor and held them open with his splayed thumbs. I daintily stepped into them and he lifted them up around my waist – not easy with handcuffs on and even harder while being held at gunpoint.

We were marched through the hotel into four separate police vans and driven to the station. Three hours later, after their investigations were complete, we were released without charge. The desk sergeant returned the guns and sent us on our way. We arrived an hour late for our rehearsal later that day. We were exhausted, but the show must go on – so we did the performance for Fujitsu, albeit without the weapons.

I’ve never much liked guns, but having two pointed at my head at such close range gave me nightmares for months. For my own sanity, I decided to turn the story into a performance piece. It was cathartic. I’ve moved on now. I feel life is about chapters. In my current chapter, I don’t even let my kids play with water pistols.