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Array
(
[sid] => 167770
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A SUICIDE BY COPS TIMES TWO
[time] => 2011-10-11 08:22:49
[hometext] => This is simply two short stories about interesting events that actually happened to me.
[bodytext] => A Suicide By Cops Times Two (1) I was working as a Military Police Officer at a top secret Instillation. Some times I was assigned “White Hat” Patrol duties, driving the streets answering dispatched zone calls. Other times I was assigned down range surveillance duties behind a number of razor wire fences where the general public was never allowed to visit or even knew of itʼs existence. This story was on one of the latter days, which were almost always long and boring 12 hour shifts. My call sign was Foxtrot 1. I was startled alert by a radio dispatched call. This was because as a general rule the only noise we ever heard during these types of duty was periodic mandatory check in calls of when I radioed “Foxtrot 1, All secure!” Other than that, we were to remain silent and invisible. The call I received terrified me because of the seriousness of itʼs message. “Foxtrot 1, this is not a drill. A white van without windows has broken through Checkpoint Zulu and is heading your way. Take cover immediately.” A few minutes later I observed the van approach and while I took cover I readied the small arsenal I had at my disposal. An unidentified man exited the rear of the van, ran to an outer perimeter fence, and began snipping at the chain links with wire cutters. Two clicks of my radio alerted dispatch that I was under attack and to send back-up. The intruders were still unaware of my presence. A second intruder exited the front seat of the van and entered my secure zone through the hole just created in the outer fence line. It should be noted that at approximately every 50 feet of the fence were signs posted that clearly warned “Top Secret Military Instillation. Keep Out! Do Not Even Touch This Fence Or You Will Be Shot And Questions Asked Later!” Both intruders, now inside of the outer fence line approached the inner fence and with arms raised to cut a hole in it now became aware of my presence. The signs gave them all the warning they were entitled to. I raised my M16 Sniper Rifle with high powered scope sightings and locked and loaded it with a full clip of ammunition and the rifle placed on fully automatic. Looking through my scope I observed the face of someone very familiar to me. It hit me, “Hey Thatʼs Mike Wallace of 60 Minutes News!” But with my finger just lightly brushing the trigger housing I was one thousandth of a second from sending him to Hell, along with his cohort. But the two men saw me jump up from my hiding place looking like a walking tree in my Ghillie Suit and it startled them causing them to back away from the fence line with their arms held up above their heads. Mike Wallace asked me if I would have really shot them I replied “Had you not taken your hands off of that fence exactly when you did, you both would have taken your very next breath in Hell!” “We only shoot one way here and thatʼs To Kill!” “I am not a marksman or even a sharpshooter, but an Expert!” “I always hit what I aim at. and you came very close to having a 3rd eyehole!” At that moment the rest of my squad arrived and took the men into custody. You may wonder why none of this was ever made public. What donʼt you understand about the term “Top Secret” you miserable puke is what the ole Gunny Sergeant may have said more than once. Thatʼs Right. It was a joint effort at this facility with Army personnel mostly, but Marines and Air Force were there as well. No Navy! Wasnʼt wet enough! (:> Four weeks later, I was off duty watching television on Sunday night when Sixty Minutes came on. A brief clip of Mike Wallace standing up next to that fence was flashed onto the screen with me just barely visible in the background. The photo was not explained but was used to introduce a totally unrelated story as to a recent event at my post. I never heard what the outcome of those men having been taken into custody was because they were ushered into a door at Headquarters where two men with four stars on their collars whom Iʼd never seen before shut the door behind them. Our orders were “Never mention this again to anyone and as of this moment forget it ever happened!” So we did! Till now. (2) At about noon on one weekday when the sun was shining brightly and the leaves were starting to turn colors, and birds were flying overhead by the thousands in a southerly direction, I received a frantic radio call from my dispatcher. “ Attention all units! Be in route to NCO Post Housing Unit”s on Hawthorne Drive, for a shooting in progress! Set up a perimeter and await further instructions from the Provost Marshall!” Although the Major was 40 miles away he took over via his portable radio, but in fact, our Lieutenant and Captain were doing a much better job of handling things with hand signs. The radio commands just became a nuisance because we had taken cover and the chatter over the air just highlighted our positions of cover. So, sorry Major. We turned you OFF! Iʼve always wanted to tell him this. Now maybe I have! Upon arrival, bullets were flying over all of our heads in our direction, often hitting trees, windshields, and even the asphalt pavement beside us. The man was screaming “You will never take me alive!” “Youʼll have to kill me!” We had the classic case of an individual wanting to commit “Suicide by Cop” and even though we often trained for these type events, no one ever hoped to be involved in one. About an hour after our arrival, we had pretty much covertly escorted all residents from the buildings and surrounding areas. The man continued firing rounds in every direction and was an immediate threat to all of us. After exhausting verbal appeals for the suspect to throw out his weapon and surrender, a command decision was made upon the arrival of our Major, the Provost Marshall. He told the suspect via a police megaphone that he was giving him a final minute to surrender and then order his troops to open fire. Sure enough, exactly 60 seconds later his voice was heard over the mega- phone ordering “Shoot To Kill, Fire!” And so we did. We fired. The shooting ceased from both sides. After a few minutes we were given hand signals to approach the building using combat tactics and apprehend the suspect. We arrived at the door giving entrance to the suspectʼs 2nd story apartment in the traditional military red brick building. We rammed the metal door open and fell to the floor for cover and rolled to the right and left to avoid further gunshots, which never came. We found the suspect lying behind a pile of sandbags he had used for cover and concealment in a pool of blood still gushing from his body. A quick check for vital signs was fruitless. The man had approximately 9 bullet hole wounds visible on his body. There were nine of us there at that time. None of us ever were told who landed the fatal shot. But we all knew, each of us had been ordered to take one shot each at the suspect. Maybe I told you before, we were all not sharpshooters or even marksmen. We were Experts and always, always, always hit what we aimed at. And we never aimed to just wound. The suspect was identified as a Master Sergeant, Iʼll refer to him as Bruce, who was a traveling Tank Instructor at Military Schools all over the country. Even though he was TDY (on temporary duty) there he was a frequent resident. He even had a wife living in the housing unit when he was away at other Posts. He was much liked by everyone. At Bruce’s funeral, the Chaplain asked for his wife to come up to the altar to receive a love gift of money from his students and coworkers. I was in attendance. And I have seen a lot of things in my life that have stunned me. But as with everyone else in attendance that day, my mouth fell open in disbelief when at the very same time 4 women stood and walked forward to receive that money. Then the cat fighting began and hair pulling, slapping and high heel kicking became a free for all. All 4 were taken into custody and separated for their own safety. That story ended this way. Remember the two 4 Star individuals mentioned in the story above. Yep. In these stories it may seem to the reader that I had a very unusual career to have so many. There are many more to come. But in the totality of it all, remember each year consists of 365 days. The majority of these days are simply mind numbingly boring and very much exhaustingly routine. In Between, you will quite unexpectedly have a few moments of heart attack levels of Adrenaline coursing through your veins, where dry mouth and sensations of living in a slow motion world pulls against all reasoning. Being called a hero never enters into the equation and reactions, not thoughts, are what determine the life and death outcomes that are a part of every Law Enforcement Officers and Soldiers training and daily existence. It is what draws us back each day as an addictive adrenaline junkie and only our brothers and sisters in arms know, and respect this as simply a comrades calling. What could have happened is only reflected upon well after the events transpired. It’s only then that any shuddering begins from thoughts entering our minds. It may seem courageous to others, but we all say in unison, “Hey we were just doing our jobs!” BY: Robert Edgar Burns [comments] => 1 [counter] => 129 [topic] => 51 [informant] => robert_edgar_burns [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Event )
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