and enlighten you. The reason that we have the FBI teach Defensive Tactics is so that when you go and out beat somebody up and use excessive force, we can say that we had the FBI show him the right way to do it but he is a loose cannon and wanted to do things his own way.”
Having not learned that the better part of valor often means biting your tongue, I asked another question, “But couldn’t the Department could still do that even if they had one of our own instructors teaching us?”
In his patient and understanding way, Officer Hal exploded, “Spellbound, this is the FBI! They are the premier law enforcement agency in the United States. You should consider it a privilege to be taught by them. You should consider it a privilege to even be in the same room with one of them.”
I could not resist one more question. “Officer Hal, does the FBI get in a lot of fights?” I mean when you watch them on the news, they take like fifty agents to go and get one little accountant for embezzlement or something. I know that the war on terror has changed things for them, but that was my perception back in the 80s. Officer Hal did not even answer me this time. He just walked away shaking his head and muttering.
Special Agent Gary was definitely special. He was as close to insane as anyone I have ever met who carried a badge and a gun. I doubt he could have passed the psychological test that I had had to pass to get hired. He did not really teach us anything. He had us wrestle around and beat each other up on the mats. That was good fun but there was no real instruction. He would stand off to the side smoking. Occasionally, he would stop us and tell us some story from his past that did not relate to anything we were supposed to be doing.
People have asked me over the years if they teach you how to fight in the Police Academy. My standard answer has always been, “They teach you just enough to get hurt.” In other words, if you don’t know how to fight and defend yourself to begin with, the little bit you get in the Police Academy is not really going to help you. The defensive tactics training is much better today, with an emphasis on ground fighting, use of pressure points and learning how to strike properly. Defensive tactics have to be practiced regularly, however, or they will disappear.
Agent Gary also tried to show us how to handcuff properly. I say “tried” because in the real world, your opponent is seldom compliant or letting you win. We spent so many hours handcuffing each other that our wrist bones were bruised and sore. One of the highlights of the DT class was watching Recruit Paul (a guy) fight with Recruit Jody (a girl). The goal was to get the other recruit down on the floor and then handcuff them. Paul never was able to wrestle Jody to the floor or get her handcuffed. She, however, pretty much thrashed him every time they tangled. When it was Jody’s turn to be the aggressor, she had no trouble at all body slamming Paul and then handcuffing him. It was pretty embarrassing for Paul but we all enjoyed the show.
Recruit Paul stuck around for a few years but never really fit in. He moved to a smaller department and had a successful career there. I don’t think he had to get into too many fights. Recruit Jody worked the street for a couple of years until she got pregnant. After that, she worked in a non-enforcement capacity for a while but then quit to be a full time mom.
Another area of DT Training that Agent Gary instructed us in was that of disarming techniques, as in taking away a gun or knife from someone. I said earlier that Agent Gary was insane. We had already suspected it from some of the things he had said and had us do. Now he confirmed it. As he taught us how to take a gun away from someone, he prefaced it by saying, “I know that these techniques work because I always practice them against a loaded gun and I’m still alive.”
We must not have heard him right. One of the recruits asked for clarification, “Special Agent Gary, did you say that you practiced disarming techniques with a loaded gun?”
Agent Gary puffed out his chest and said, “Oh yeah! Anybody can practice with an unloaded gun. You know the gun is unloaded and the adrenaline really doesn’t get flowing. But when my training partner points that loaded and cocked revolver at my head all my senses come alive. If I don’t execute my disarming technique properly, I’m a dead man.”
There was a stunned silence. We were just recruits but we knew that this violated every firearms safety rule that we had been taught. Was this the way they did at the FBI? Is that the way that they taught disarming in their academy? Was this one of things we were supposed to be learning from “the premier law enforcement agency in the United States?” And this crazy man was going to show us “the right way” to do things?
We practiced the various disarming techniques that Agent Gary showed us. Of course, we used non-firing, training guns and rubber knives. We continued to enjoy watching Paul and Jody working together. He was never able to disarm her but she took away his gun every time they practiced together. Agent Gary never encouraged us to practice with loaded guns. He just let us know that we were not getting the full effect by using training guns. I think our class was one of the last ones in which the FBI taught DT. Before long, we had our own DT Instructors teach us “the right way.”
Firearms’ training was one of my favorite parts of the Police Academy. At the time I went through, we were carrying Smith & Wesson .357 magnum revolvers. We shot a lot of ammo as we worked towards qualification day. If you didn’t qualify, they could wash you out or make you go through Academy again. We had some borderline shooters that just managed to squeak by, but we got everyone through. I always enjoyed shooting and shot pretty well.
While the bulk of firearms training was with our revolvers, we also trained with the pump-action 12 gauge shotgun. The Department did not issue everyone a shotgun. If you wanted to carry one, you had to buy your own. Everyone, however, had to be trained on how to use the shotgun. I bought my own shotgun and started carrying it as soon as I could.
The guy who was over the Firearms Training Unit was Sergeant Mike. He was a very unpleasant person. He might be described as moody, but he really only had one mood and that was a bad one. He could really shoot, however, and competed in a lot of tournaments. He was actually a pretty good teacher as well when he wasn’t brooding or pouting. At the same time, he was quick to criticize, belittle, and berate us recruits. If you got on his bad side, he was unmerciful.
On one of the days that we were learning shotgun, we went to an outdoor skeet range to shoot. It was a lot of fun. Skeet shooting is excellent training. Sergeant Mike had been bragging about how he could shoot skeet with his revolver. None of us believed that that was even possible and we told him so. Right after we got to the skeet range, Sergeant Mike gave it a go and missed six out of six with his revolver. We enjoyed seeing him fail after all the abuse that we had taken. He did not enjoy being laughed at by a bunch of recruits and stomped away. He pouted the rest of the day. He let the assistant instructors work with us as we shot skeet.
Before we left the shotgun range for the day, Sergeant Mike wanted to try one more time to shoot skeet with his revolver. We were all hoping he would strike out again. Instead, he hit five out of six clay birds with his revolver. That still ranks as one of the most impressive things I have ever seen anyone do with a handgun.
About half way though the Police Academy, we lost a guy. A citizen saw him drinking beer in the parking lot of a shopping center with some of his friends. That would not have been such a big deal except for the fact that he was still in his police uniform. There is just no cure for stupid. He was gone the next day.
I was never much of a partier so I skipped the ones that were thrown by Academy mates. I wasn’t much of a drinker and had heard stories about the amount of alcohol some of these folks could consume. One Monday morning my decision to skip the weekend’s festivities were justified. Recruit Ken came in with a busted up face. His eye was black and still swollen. I asked him, “What happened to you?”
He said, “Ah, Greg punched me for no reason.”
There was a little more to the story than that. Ken had become very intoxicated at the party and made a few lewd remarks to Recruit Greg’s wife. Greg did not appreciate that and punched Ken in the face. The fact that neither man was disciplined for the incident indicates that Ken probably got what he deserved.
A number of years later, Ken’s drinking would cost him his job as a police