Shotgun

Posted by: Blue

I completed the Shotgun Operators' Course Friday, despite high winds, rain and bottomed-out mercury at the outdoor range. I had been trying to get onto the course since spring, but manpower on our shift wouldn't permit it until now.

For the new qualification of SGO, you must successfully utilize tactical "00" buckshot out to 25 yards and rifled slugs out to 50 yards with 100% accuracy.  You must also demonstrate an ability to transition to pistol upon failure of the shotgun, speed-load from behind cover, use the weapon-mounted light while shooting, and properly deploy from the cruiser car.

The slugs are accurate beyond 100 yards, but the iron sights diminish in accuracy at that distance. A scope would be necessary at that range, and a rifled barrel with sabots would increase accuracy as well. The guns are currently zeroed at 50 yards.

The old Remington 870s have been retro-fitted with new furniture:

• Magpul bantam stocks
• Magpul QD slings
• Magpul forends
• Streamlight TLR-1 weapon lights
• Mesa Tactical 6 round shell carriers
• Trijicon Ghost ring and front post sights

Duty ammunition currently consists of:

• Federal Premium Law Enforcement Tactical 2 3/4" 00 buckshot, low recoil, flight control wad, 9 pellet
• Federal Premium Law Enforcement Tactical 2 3/4" 1oz. rifled slug, low recoil, tru-ball

Squeeze Up

Posted by: Blue

Per Officer Safety Unit, Tac has advised them to start teaching the squeeze-up.

While using lethal force cover on a suspect, you tighten up your stance, getting closer to the other officer and use your off-hand to squeeze their leg when you approach them at their blind spot.  This is also useful in the case of tunnel-vision. One of you is then able to switch to a less lethal option such as a Taser while the other provides lethal cover for both officers.

Squeezing below the waist means that any sympathetic reaction should occur below their waist as well, thus lessening the chance of a sympathetic reaction above the waist like an accidental trigger pull.

This technique differs from what used to be taught, which is standing approximately 10 feet from your partner during lethal force coercion. Studies showed that if the suspect rushed one officer with a knife while the officer transitioned from a firearm to a Taser, by the time the officer with firearm coverage began shooting, he would be approximately three feet behind the suspect, until eventually over-correcting, leading ahead of the charging subject and firing bullets into his partner by mistake.

During tests by our OSU, the officer who was charged was shot 100% of the time with blue on blue friendly fire. The suspect was only hit approximately 20% of the time, and always after the officer went down.

Qualifying

Posted by: Blue

Today was firearms qualifications.

I shot 100% in back to back qualifiers.  I believe the Hogue moulded grip that I put on the Glock has made a major difference.  The gun feels much better and my grip has improved.

Per the Firearms Unit, the top 4 contributors to a good shot, starting with the most important are as follows:

1. Trigger control
2. Grip
3. Sight picture
4. Follow through

Bonus: we were able to shoot our two year old duty ammo and have been re-issued new bullets.

Lights Down

Posted by: Blue

Last night, a fire on a hydro pole (utility pole for any Americans) cut power to a few square blocks in an industrial and business area near the airport.

JT and I were stuck directing traffic for 9 hours.  When the signals crew finally arrived, it took them all of 6 minutes to solve the problem.

Before that, we had a weapons call.  When we showed up, the complainant identified the gun as a "Glock with a brown handle that was a 5-shot revolver, 9mm..."  It was apparently in an unidentified male's waistband but only the grip was seen.  The complainant was certain of each detail.

We could tell he was lying because of the way he described the gun (not to mention all four of the officer's spidey senses were going haywire).  Just try a Google search for a weapon that includes all of those details.  If you can find it, you're a better cop than I.

He admitted to his B.S. when I called him on it.  JT told him not to lie to the police any more 'cause he wasn't smart enough.

Roast Beef

Posted by: Blue

Sometimes the job requires a heavy hand.  Sometimes it requires delicacy and tact.  Sometimes it requires you to do something you never, ever, ever thought you'd be getting paid to do.

On Thursday, our call was a Sudden Death requiring a notification for the Next of Kin.  Pretty standard.  One of the harder parts of the job.  This one was significantly more complicated though.

The deceased was an octogenarian.  His girlfriend was also well into her eighties and suffering from the first stages of Alzheimer's.  He had died in her bed... ahem... after... uh... or during... well... there were two blister packs of Viagra found in his pockets... one was empty... um... sheesh.

So buddy was getting some in his golden years.  Her daughter didn't approve.  Then again, the old girl didn't approve of her daughter's lesbian relationship and wasn't shy to share that with the police and anyone else within earshot.  She also apparently didn't approve of the idea of a Black police officer (who happened to be the prime unit's reporting officer that night).

To further complicate things, the elderly missus had not eaten that day and was becoming more confused with all of the excitement.  She kept referring to her deceased boyfriend by her previously deceased husband's name.  Her daughter was trying to get her to eat, however the daughter happened to be the most patronizing person I have met recently and her mother was resistant to the idea of being parented by her child (naturally).

We were having difficulty ascertaining the identity and particulars of the deceased's son, so our supervisor came with us to the home of the gentleman visitor.  During our search for medications and NOK information, what should we stumble across, but a huge stockpile of improperly stored firearms.  Shit.

Most of the guns were able to fit into the gun locker which we managed to find a key for.  There was, however, a revolver which was unregistered (as restricted weapons, all handguns and a number of other varieties of firearms are required to be registered in Canada).  As there were no charges that would be laid against the dead guy, we brought the gun back to the station to be processed as a "found gun" and then turned in for testing and subsequent destruction to our firearms section.

We located the info for the son of the deceased.  He lived out of town.  The police in his jurisdiction were advised and requested to make the death notification.

We were an evening unit and the prime unit was days.  They had a little overtime already, typing up the report for the coroner.  We were dealing with the gun.  That left the elderly girlfriend and her family alone in the house to "grieve".  Unfortunately they were not grieving.  They were arguing and bickering.

Dispatch raised us on the radio.  There was now a Family Trouble call at the same address.

We headed back.

There was a neighbour over from down the street.  Per the daughter, the neighbour was known to steal from her mother.  Per the mother and the neighbour, the daughter was the one stealing.  There was apparently $100 missing from the 80 year old woman's wallet now.

No one had known about the $100 except for the woman with Alzheimer's.  Shit.

Side-note: my partner and I had already dealt with the neighbour prior to that night on a bogus theft call.  She and her boyfriend had been reporting a theft by her sister-in-law.  Upon arrival, the money had been recovered (apparently it had fallen under the couch).

There was a lot more reasoning and massaging and coaxing.  In the end, my Sergeant, partner and myself sat in the house and watched the lady eat a roast beef sandwich on rye and drink a cup of Ensure along with her pills.  Then the daughter and her lesbian partner finally satisfied, were escorted back to their car at the mother's request.  The neighbour was also removed, leaving the mother alone to go to sleep.

There were no further problems that night.

Sometimes the job requires a heavy hand.  Sometimes it requires delicacy and tact.  Sometimes it requires you to demand an eighty-something year old widow to muscle-down a dry, tasteless roast beef sandwich with too much mustard for the sake of public peace.

Safety Lesson

Posted by: Blue

The other day, we responded to another district for a high priority domestic.  The wife was calling in on the husband, stating that he had been threatening to play Russian Roulette with his revolver and "take a bunch of people out".

While on scene, the male was calm but obviously depressed and emotional.  As we were clearing out the gun safe of the firearms that he had agreed to turn over to us for safekeeping, he asked one of the other district's cops if he could go and change.  The officer agreed and the male went into the study.

I was looking through the safe with some of the other officers at the time and hadn't seen him go into the room and close the door.

I came around the corner to find no sign of the male.

"Where'd he go?" I asked.

"Changing." Said the other officer, gesturing towards the closed office door.

"What!? No! Hey, c'mon out of there bud. I don't want you behind closed doors with no one around you right now.  It makes me nervous."  I said, giving the senior officer an admittedly dirty look.

He came out and looked frustrated.  I told him he was welcome to change in a few minutes when we got things sorted out, but one of the officers would need to be in the room with him.

Later on, we discovered a loaded revolver in a holster under the coffee table in that office.

The Halloween Special

Posted by: Blue

It was a dark and stormy night.  The rain hadn't come yet, but the clouds had blackened out the stars and moonlight.  Lightning streaked sporadically around the sky, creating eerie strobes of illumination over the darkened stables.

We were there on a distress alarm.  The huge grounds of the horse racing track on the West end of the city were shadowy and lonely at 2:00 a.m.  The race track ran a small daycare centre out of one of their outbuildings, and the alarm company had reported multiple alarms coming from various zones.

We approached the security gates and were given a laminated hand-drawn map of the grounds.  They covered the space of approximately 4 football fields and were full of stables which housed the Thoroughbred horses.  The long, narrow, squat buildings stretched out in a grid pattern.  We had to navigate through them on pot-holed dirt roads.  The only light came from our headlights and take-downs, but those didn't pierce far into the night and seemed to bounce off of all of the right-angles of the structures and served to diminish visibility rather than improve it.

As we navigated the minefield of watering troughs and hay bales, exercise loops and horse-shit, we crept closer and closer to the target building.  It was a converted stable.  The roof was low-slung and it was entirely sheathed in sheet metal.  The windows had been cut-out as an afterthought and looked out-of-place and ramshackle.

The yard was fenced and the scattered plastic toys seemed oddly foreign in the huge acreage dedicated to horses.  They cast long shadows in the beam of our headlights.  The wind slowly moved the chain swings and the rusty bolts squeaked with each sway.

There was a faint glow of light exuding from one of the windows.  The rest of the building was dark.  We searched the perimeter, first observing whether windows were open or broken, tripping a few times in the process over Tonka trucks or discarded dolls.  Then we began checking the doors methodically for security.

As we worked in tandem around the building, we found a single vehicle: a minivan.  The hood was cold.  It had been there a while.  But then again, the call was about 45 minutes old.  JT turned to me and said "I've got the heebie jeebies about this place dude.  All the friggin kids toys and creaky swing sets are freaking me out a little.  Wouldn't it freak you out if shit went down out here?  It looks like some kinda evil child labour camp or something."

I laughed a little, but really it was to hide the fact that the whole scenario had me right scared.  Something was off.  I couldn't put a finger on it though.  I definitely couldn't picture children enjoying themselves in the yard on a bright summer's day at that point.

We had found a window which had been cracked open, but it appeared that it was only for ventilation purposes.  As we rounded the building the second time and checked the last three doors, I began to relax a little, realizing that the alarm had probably been a false, set off by the weather.

Last door, then we would clear and head back to the station.

I grabbed the knob and rattled it.  It turned.  It popped open.  It creaked as it swung, revealing a blood red glow coming from the exit sign above it.

My glance snapped over to JT.  He was surprised and wide eyed.  His hands went for the Taser holster.  I went for my Glock.

"POLICE!  SHOW YOURSELF! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!"

I stepped in first, slowly cutting corners.  The door was in the centre of the building and the hallway it entered ran in both directions.  I slowly went left, JT went right.  We began the building search, flashlights in hand, methodically clearing each room as we went, calling out our presence to whoever might be inside.  I had my light in my left hand, supporting my right hand with the back of my left hand, pistol at high-ready.

As I got closer and closer to the end of the building, I had gone through two long rooms with a couple of offices in-between.  Neither JT nor I had found the lights yet.  I opened the last door with my flashlight hand. Just then, my light cut-out.  The room went black.  I shook it.  It flickered on momentarily and then extinguished again.

The audible alarm started up with a shrill, piercing siren.

Suddenly, a shout and a crash came from JT's end of the building.  I called out to him without turning around, in case it was an ambush and I had someone waiting for me on my end too.

"JT, YOU OK!?"

Silence first.  Then I hollered the same thing again.  This time a muffled yell.

"JT you sonofabitch, if you're just screwing with me I'm gonna shoot you.  Are you alright?"

I smacked my light a few more times and searched by feel for a light switch nearby.  It seriously crossed my mind for a split second to fire a few rounds to light the room with the muzzle-flash.  I thought better of it immediately though.

"Ya.  I'm fine.  Just tripped on a doll carriage.  Stupid toys!"

"Geez man.  Don't do that to me!"

I found a switch.  The room lit up.  My nerves were frayed and I was on high adrenaline.  I breathed deep and focused.  I crept around the corners and cleared the last room.  As I holstered my firearm and turned, I found myself face-to-face with the single ugliest face I have ever seen.  My heart skipped a beat and I froze in terror.

JT had snuck-up behind me and was pulling on his ears and puffing-out his cheeks like a monkey.  "BOO" he yelled.

I almost asped his ass.

"C'mon.  It's clear.  Someone just forgot to lock-up."

We waited for the key-holder and then cleared once they had re-set the alarm.

It remains the only time so far in this job that I have been elevated past adrenaline-flowing to fear-pumping.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Tommy Solami Part III

Posted by: Blue

We got a call that there was a male at the complainant's apartment door with a knife trying to break the door down.

We showed up a short time later and found the apartment building quiet.  The suspect had apparently left and was nowhere to be seen during a search of the building.

We spoke to the complainant who clearly had a number of stab marks in his front door.

The trouble with his neighbour had started when he had found his neighbour's girlfriend standing in the hallway buck naked and locked out of her apartment a few weeks ago.  The neighbour was Tommy.  The girlfriend was Mariah.  The complainant had given Mariah a phone to use and a set of clothes to wear.  Tommy had become convinced that they were sleeping together and today he had gotten good and drunk and gone over the edge.

We decided to try knocking on Tommy's door which was a floor up.  We knocked and knocked and called to Tommy through the door, but there was no answer.  We were just discussing whether to write him up for warrant when we heard a noise in the stairwell behind us.  We both turned just as the door opened into the hall.

There was Tommy.  Shirtless again.  His stitches in his neck looked red and infected.  We both drew down on him, 'cause he apparently had a knife.  I pulled the Taser, my partner pulled his Glock.  We yelled at Tommy to get down.  I called him by name.  He had a series of facial expressions going from fear to acceptance to relief.  He recognized us just as he started raising his hands into the air and said "Oh thank God it's you guys!"  He continued onto the floor into the prone position and gave us no trouble.

"You still have a knife on you, Tommy?"

"Ya.  Ya, it's in my back pocket."

"OK.  Don't reach for it or you're gonna get either shot or tasered or both.  You understand?"

"Ya.  I'm just glad it's you guys.  You guys are good guys."

We cuffed him and took him down to the car.  I arrested him for all of the nonsense that had happened that night.

On the way back to the station, I asked him what his version of the story was.

"Well, about a week ago, we were having sex on the couch and then we finished and everything was good until she told me to get her a cheeseburger.  I told her 'forget it, bitch, I'm not your servant', but she wouldn't give it up.  She kept demanding a cheeseburger, so I threw.... I shoved.... I placed her gently outside the apartment and locked her out.  That guy from that apartment brought her into his place and she's been fucking him ever since.  Tonight I just lost it."

"Ya.  You kinda did."

JT and I laughed.  Tommy laughed.

"Thanks for being good with me guys.  I'm glad it was you that came to arrest me."

"Tommy, you've gotta get rid of the girl and quit drinkin' man.  No woman is worth going to jail over just cause she's screwing some other dude."

"Ya.  I know.  She's such a bitch.  But I love her."

Back at the station, we introduced Tommy to our Sergeant as "Tommy Solami".  The Sergeant snapped his head up from his desk.

"THE Tommy Solami?!"

"Yes sir.  The very one and only."

"How do you know about me?" Tommy asked.

Just then a few other cops walked by.  We informed them that they were in the presence of the legend, Tommy Solami.  They all raised their eyebrows and a couple of them went to shake his hand, playing along with our mock reverence (which of course didn't work because Tommy was cuffed).  It was clear that the attention was going to Tommy's head.

"Everyone knows you here, Tommy.  We were telling the whole shift about you when we were looking for Mariah."

As we carted him off to his cell, we passed the detective's office and Tommy hollered out "Hey guys, it's me, Tommy Solami!  Need an autograph?  I'm here all night!"

We finished our reports, hauled him away to jail and locked him up, still beaming.

The best part of the night was still to come.  When we came into the provincial jail, Tommy walked up to one of the grumpy senior guards and tried to shake his hand (once the cuffs had come off), introducing himself as "The Famous Tommy Solami".  It was clear then that his fame had not extended to the provincial jail quite yet, because the guard simply responded "I don't give a FUCK who you are!  Shut your mouth and listen to what we tell you to do when we tell you to do it and there won't be any problems."

Answers I

Posted by: Blue


Courtesy of Raindog:
1) What is your primary sidearm?
2) What is the patrol car you drive every day?
3) Have you been in a good fight?

1) My primary sidearm is a M22 Glock .40 calibre, drawn right-handed from a Level 3 Blackhawk holster. We are not permitted secondary firearms and the Glock is standard issue with no other options unless you are small-handed, in which case you are issued the Springfield XD40. Given a choice, I'd be sticking with my Glock. We also have Police Model Remington 870 Shotguns in the cars with 5 rounds of 00 buckshot. I am told the service is looking into a carbine program which would introduce a .223 C7 Colt into the cruisers as well.

2) We drive the Crown Vics and nothing else in General Patrol. The service put in a huge order for extras when it was announced that they would be discontinued. I have heard a number of rumours about the possible replacements, including the Holden Caprice out of Australia, however the other day I was at the garage and they were setting-up two trial cars; the Dodge Charger and the Ford Taurus 4WD. I don't like either as much as the Crown Victoria as I am already too tall for the Vic and there is even less room in the two new ones.

3) I have not as of yet been in a good fight. I suspect that my size, my partner's size, and our ability to glare like a pair of cobras has taken the fight out of any of the would-be fighters thus far. There have been some struggles, but nothing "knock-down, drag-out".

Year Two

Posted by: Blue

Today is the first day of my second year as a cop.

My wife gave me a book for my hiring anniversary/Valentine's Day.  Glock: The Rise of America's Gun, by Paul M. Barrett. 

My service pistol is a Glock Model 22.

She gets me.  I love her (my wife... not my gun...).

Takedown

Posted by: Blue

This past Sunday, while on evening shift, the Sergeant gave us an early leave to go for wings and a brew.

The four of us had a round of each and then headed off home.

Unbeknownst to us, three blocks away was a shooting just as we were leaving.

The suspect vehicle was described as a black Dodge Ram.

One of my shift-mates was driving a dark blue Chevy Silverado.

The helicopter picked him up on camera and sicced the night shift crew on him.  He was followed all the way accross the city to a few blocks away from home where he was taken down in a high-risk traffic stop.  Guns drawn, keys out the window, proned-out on the ground, whirlybird circling the entire time.

It was all the talk at Monday shift briefing.  He didn't think it was as funny as we did.

The 11th Hour

Posted by: Blue

Well...

Less than 4 weeks left.

I will officially be posted to field training by the 21st.  I'm not sure just yet how my shifts will look, but I am hoping for "B-side" (the second set of shifts who are on when A-side is off; see 4-10) .  I hope that my marks will grease the wheels in that direction.  I've made some good friends who all seem to be headed for B-side, including some excellent instructors and training officers.

I've got to admit, I'm feeling slightly apprehensive about being on the street for the first time.  I will have my gun, badge, OC spray, and ID card issued on the second-last day of classes.  Then within a few days, I am off to my second call.

We have had a few very interesting lectures in the past few weeks, including two officers who had been involved in lethal-force encounters.  Both officers had shot and killed their suspects.  One was 8 weeks out of the academy.  A sobering thought.

Last week we had some training with fighting and use-of-force.  One of the days we were given blue-guns (a working pistol by the same manufacturer as our service pistol that shoots blanks and Simunition rounds), and we ran through a number of encounters from suicidals to knives to compliant people to shoot-outs.  It was the first time any of us had pointed a gun at another human.  It was also the first time that I found myself picturing a person dead by my hand.  I hope and pray that I never have to take that life.

On a lighter note, this past weekend was a long one for us.  I went camping with some friends from academy.  We probably all should have been studying for tomorrow's test, but we couldn't help ourselves.  I brought my leaky old boat with my faithful 1972 motor, and we managed to catch our lunch one day.  Two big Pickerel (Though I think any of you Yankees reading might know them as Walleye).  It rained most of the weekend, but we made the best of it.  I love these new friends and comrades.  One thing is certain: I know I can trust each and every one of them with my life.  That's a reassuring feeling.

I'm really interested, given my impending street-baptism, to hear some stories of your first days out there, and what it feels like to "go live" for the first time.  Hope you're all having a good day.

Cheers

There's a First for Everything Part II

1. First Urban Tactical catalogue brought home. Blue drooled the whole time while reading it.
 
2. After perusing the catalogue, Blue started talking about a 'Go Bag'. Oh yes, he's caught the Go Bag bug.

3. I now understand why police wives joke about their cops having more accessories than Barbie. It's all starting to make sense now...

4. Blue's first target practise sheets were brought home and are now displayed as artwork on our walls. No, it was not my idea. No, I'm not happy about it. (Funny story though: Blue showed off his days work and explained how his first day at the range went. I admired his good aim and then went about my day, getting dinner ready. I happened to walk down to the basement to grab something. Something looked different. My content expression slowly turned into a look of disgust as I realized the sheets had been pinned onto our basement walls...right beside our TV...and we had people coming over! I walked back upstairs to ask Blue to take them down and explain that, 'no, target sheets are NOT artwork'. As I got into the kitchen The Boy zoomed passed me while frantically yelling, "Mom, where's my police gun!??!" Soon after I hear him yelling "POW-POW" while practising his aim. Blue wouldn't take them down. Ugh.)

Family Night

Well, our first Family Night was a success!

I showed-up with the kids a little early (which, apparently, everyone else had thought to do as well). After making sure my hair wasn't tossed around and my hands weren't shaking too badly we braved the cold and walked into the building. The first few moments were probably the most intimidating. All of the recruits were standing just inside the front doors, waiting to claim their arriving friends and family. All eyes fell on the people walking through the doors and it was clear there were many, "Ah, so that's so-and-so's spouse..." looks going around. I think Blue's class was eager to meet some of the spouses and kids they'd been hearing stories of for the past few weeks. I was introduced to some of Blue's group. Two of the girls came up and gushed over The Boys cowboy boots he was wearing.

We were then ushered into the gym for a brief run-down of how the evening would go and then broken-up into groups and shuffled around to different rooms to hear different presentations.

Our first presentation was from the Firearm's guys. The Boy was excited because he got to hold a Glock and put on a Kevlar vest. After that we went to hear all about the Use of Force training and see some of the 'tools' they use. I think the coolest thing that I saw all night was a knife that they use during simulation training. It's called a Shocknife and it sends an electric pulse around the edges of the blade so that when you're 'cut' it makes it feel as though you've actually been cut. It was a pretty interesting looking tool. I liked the Use of Force guys...you could tell they love their jobs.

Next was a demonstration from the K-9 Unit (which the kids loved), Vehicle Operations Unit, a tour through the Police Museum (very interesting!) and finally a presentation from the Bomb Squad. After all of that we had a few moments to grab a drink and mingle about. By that time (9:30pm) the kids were starting to implode so I didn't really walk around and chat with anyone. I got a picture of the four of us (with Blue in his uniform) and then we left.

The recruits were allowed to invite family and friends to that event so it was pretty crowded and hard to see who was with who. There will be a few more family evenings intended for immediate family members only so I'm hoping to connect with some more people then. I did end-up chatting with one lovely woman but I had no idea who she 'belonged' to. Hopefully I'll run into her again.

One thing that I appreciated was that there were NO statistics or scare tactics. One guy had a list of books that would be helpful to read if anyone wanted access to them. A few of the presenters mentioned how important family support was and to keep your officer doing the things that he enjoyed doing before becoming a cop, but it was mainly an information evening for everyone to see what your loved one has been up to or will be up to.

I'm glad that I can now picture the rooms Blue is spending his days in and the people he is spending them with.

One comment trickled down through the grape vine yesterday. A female officer made a comment to Blue about me and, I must say, it made my day. I know that I need to be more confident with the fact that I am likable, but meeting new people seems to be one area that I have a hard time getting over. I'm just happy that Blue is 6'5"...he's good for hiding behind. (Kidding)

Change of Heart

The Boy: Mom, I changed my mind.

Me: About what?

The Boy: I don't want to be a firefighter helicopter pilot anymore (which he's wanted to be for 2 years now).

Me: Well, what do you want to be?

The Boy: I want to go to daddy's school and become a police officer.

*Since this conversation he's been practicing everything he thinks a police officer knows how to do...but mainly it consists of walking several paces from a window and turning around, fairly quickly, and shooting a suction dart at a desired area (he closes the blinds half way so it becomes more of a challenge).