Recently, a number of former SWAT colleagues of mine have passed away. We all remember those who we have worked with for the better and funnier stories relative to each of them. The handles they had such as ‘Topper’, ‘Weenie Fingers’, ‘Aldo Ray’, ‘Electric Man’ and many others were handles or nicknames which somehow attached themselves to each of these unique characters.

When you’re younger you never think of the day to come when old partners start passing away. You’re young and life is well ahead of you so this is the natural progression of things. The purpose of this writing is to enlighten you to enjoy and experience those around you when you can. For instance, the following stories involve hilarious incidents of men I have known and worked with.

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Ever wonder why the movies get it all wrong when it comes to SWAT? Well first… we don’t have a van with SWAT emblazoned on the side. We don’t travel around the city day and night in the proverbial SWAT van awaiting the famed SWAT call up. It would be intensely cramped, super sweaty, nasty hot and most importantly… very, very offensive to the olfactory senses. We also wouldn’t be able to see where we’re going which none of us like very much.

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Roll calls when I was a rookie were not much like the roll calls of today. Back then if you came into a division as a raw recruit you were subjected to every insult possible – and I speak from experience. I was a rookie in Wilshire Division along with another classmate of mine. They hadn’t had a “raw recruit” in the Division for quite some time. In roll call we had to sit at the very front row so that we couldn’t observe what was transpiring behind us – objects being thrown at us, some would connect and others would just wisp by. You just sat there and took it… no big deal. Personal insults were non-stop. Any question that came up from the supervisors would elicit a response from the old timers…”Hey, ask the kid. I’m sure he’s got all the answers.” And so it went. My training Officer called me “Junior” right off the bat. It was “Junior… get this. Junior… get that. Junior what is your @%#*& problem?”

You were tested back then right off the bat. They wanted to see what you were made of. They’d find the dirtiest, filthiest and slimiest suspect they could and have you search them. Even another ‘A’ car would have you link up with them and then have you search their suspect. Back then there were no latex gloves in the black and white and no liquid hand sanitizers on the dash.

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“The most important lesson I learned was the winner of gunplay usually was the one who took his time. The second was that, if I hoped to live on the frontier, I would shun flashy trick-shooting as soon as I would poison. I did not know a really proficient gunfighter who had anything but contempt for the fancy gunfanner, or the man who literally shot from the hip.”

– Wyatt Earp

In a previous newsletter I spoke of achieving the most effective training utilizing minimal rounds. There is a concomitant effect here. If you perform as you train the answer is rather obvious. Mindless shots downrange in training might easily equate into mindless shots in a field setting. If one is impressed with spinning, wheeling and fancy moves while emptying magazine after magazine then this is your prerogative. If there is no verifiable practical background behind such instruction then the student is the one placed at peril.

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