I'm Back - The Bunker
By August 1983, I'm back in Hong Kong. With an apartment in Kowloon, overlooking the harbour, I reckon I'm made.
My posting for six months is the joint Police Military command centre, known as PolMil. This facility is the centre of government in emergencies.
Working a 12-hour shift, I'm assigned to coordinate support services; helicopters, bomb disposal teams, the PTU platoons and other resources. I also act to keep the bosses briefed on significant incidents. Besides, I have a direct line to the Governor and the Commander British Forces.
At times it was hectic. While "action cards" guide you through most incidents, you also have to think on your feet. We made decisions that had far-reaching consequences, so the role entailed a lot of responsibility for a young inspector with only three years of service.
If things got complicated, you could call up the chain of command; direct support usually arrived within 20 minutes. But until then, you'd be directing the action.
All this is before mobile phones, so locating people could be a challenge. First, you'd call their homes, no response. Then you'd page them. With luck, they'd call back.
For example, in the 1990s, one Police Duty Officer decided to cut off a large part of Kowloon's water supply. A blackmailer had dumped a quantity of cyanide in a reservoir. With the amount unknown, about two million people faced possible poisoning.
As a young inspector with only limited service under his belt, he had the pluck to act. He called the head of the Water Supplies Department, telling him to shut off the water immediately.
Now, heads of departments don't typically take orders unless it's from the Governor. This one decided to listen and act. Fortunately, the cyanide soon dispersed as the water checked cleared for consumption. Nonetheless, the inspector made the right decision, earning praise for his action. The blackmailer committed suicide later.
The most significant event during my stint in PolMil was the taxi riot of Friday 13th January 1984. The government was seeking a new tax on taxi operators, with strong opposition from the trade was building over many weeks. A strike is threatened.
In a bold and reckless move, the Commissioner of Transport stated that he did not believe the taxi drivers would strike. At which point they did. Things escalated further when they blocked critical intersections to pressure the government by disrupting traffic flows.
This silliness went on for a week. Some traffic disruption resulted, although Hong Kong continued to function. The police response was being coordinated from PolMil, with extra staff to assist.
I spent my time organising helicopter flights for reconnaissance purposes. We had no CCTV. Thus, helicopters with spotters provided an overview of developments.
We had a helicopter pad on top of the canteen at Police HQ located between tower blocks. I watched in amazement as the Auxiliary Air Force approached, swung between the buildings, then landed in a space no bigger than a tennis court. They did this repeatedly over the week, even taking me for a spin to view what was happening.
The Force, while on alert and ready, was playing a hands-off game. The Police Tactical Unit was on standby and contingencies in place. As the event was non-violent, negotiations continued to resolve the matter. At such times, the CP is stressing that officers must not take any provocative actions. Thus, Police display a high degree of tolerance to behaviour that would typically warrant action.
On Friday evening, gangs of kids had gathered on Nathan Road to watch the blockade by the taxis. At road junctions in the Mongkok and Yaumati areas, plainclothes officers reported the mood was festive. However, known triad and hooligan elements were circulating in the crowds. The first sign of trouble arose from a foolish incident in my old division of Yaumati.
A teenager grabbed a bell from a bicycle and threw it at a passing police patrol van in a moment of recklessness. He hit and broke the rear window. For the officers, this was too much. They alighted, jumped on the kid and dragged him into the police van.
Making their way back to Yaumati Police Station, a hostile crowd followed. Yobs were soon throwing anything it could get their hands on at the building. The station went into lock-down. Officers drew anti-riot weapons and readied for action.
Meanwhile, at the junction of Nathan Road and Dundas Street, things had turned nasty. Seizing the opportunity, a group of hooligans smashed their way into a watch shop. Looting started.
The few plainclothes officers on the ground responded, catching the looters inside. Then a large crowd pressed in around the scene threatening the cops. A lone detective drew his service revolver to hold hundreds at bay.
In PolMil, the first news reports were coming in. Crowded around the TV, the sight of this lone detective brandishing his revolver caused shock. First, I heard calls for disciplinary action. Then as the TV cameras pulled back, the scale of the looting and rioting became clear. Finally, it dawned on us that the detective was doing an outstanding job. The man deserved a medal.
But someone had messed up. The Kowloon anti-riot units were switching over that day. Thus PTU was ill-placed to mount an initial response. Some quick work by the outgoing Company Commander, Ed Hillier, saved the day. He soon had his four platoons reformed. With looting spreading up and down Nathan Road, PTU needed to contain the rampage.
Ed Hillier led his men from Yaumati Police Station, pushing the crowds back. In the control room, we could hear the commotion through the radio. Orders to charge and fire tear gas billowed forth. A series of running battles developed.
The rioters dispersed into the side streets, out-flanking the police line, then reformed behind them. Constant action is needed to keep the looters on the move. The aim was not to arrest people; instead, the focus was dispersal.
Later in the evening, the Commandant PTU, Bob Steele, arrived to take charge of a sweep that went through most of the lower part of the Kowloon peninsula.
Simultaneously, CID units picked up looters as they fled the area. This description is only a snapshot of the thousands of events that unfolded that night. From my position in the control room, there was much confusion.
We had an unclear picture of what was happening; what information we had was misleading or misinterpreted. Orders and counter-orders came out at a fast pace. The whole episode was a lesson in leaving officers on the ground to get on with the job.
Please make sure they are well-supported with reserves but trust your people and their training. In such situations, it's pointless for people in command posts to take tactical decisions. They had inadequate timely information.
This forgotten lesson had to be re-learned on many occasions. Even with comprehensive CCTV coverage, command posts have an inadequate understanding.
I later heard that one senior commander on the ground turned off his radio in frustration. Instead, he opted to defend a section of shops, holding his position all night.
That evening burnished a few officers reputations, and others suffered. One senior officer earned the nickname "Chicken George." He "became confused" in the face of the rioting, which meant his more robust deputy stepped in while George took a rest in his office.
And what of the striking taxi drivers? Once the first signs of trouble started, they're gone. In the following days, they asserted they could not be held responsible. While that may be true, they helped create the circumstances that led to the rioting.
Preceding the taxi riot over Christmas 1983 was a mini-disturbance in Central. Gangs of youths went on the rampage resulting in 18 arrests, with seven cars damaged.
The same scenario played out on New Years Day, although the violence flared up in Admiralty with several Expats roughed up.
These events prompted much soul-searching by the government. It appeared sentiment amongst some young people were turning hostile - how history repeats itself.
These flare-ups of trouble pointed to simmering tension in Hong Kong. Afterwards, the alarmed government goes into its usual spasm of soul-searching.
Why are the kids angry? What do we need to do? Do we need to work harder to address the underlying injustices? How remains the challenging question.
The most arduous job in PolMil involved writing the morning situation report. Then getting it circulated on time. Besides, computers were starting to appear, with limited functions. That was a challenge.
Yet, the report is handwritten, typed and then copied on a Xerox machine; then dispatched by motorcycle to the Governor and various officials. One copy went to London.
My boss arrived every morning at about 7 am to check the final draft report before dispatch. An old colonial who'd seen action in Africa, I never saw the man eat. Instead, vast amounts of coffee sustained him. He spotted my many errors, politely pointed them out and then went about his day. By 8 am, he'd be gone.
One of the perks of working in PolMil was access to the military communications system linked to the UK. In those days, making a call home involved a trek to the Cable and Wireless Office. You had to book a call and then await the connection. Plus, it cost a fortune.
The lovely ladies who ran the Communications Suite let me make calls as a system test in the logbook. Although, why the Hong Kong Garrison would be calling my Mum on a secure line was never questioned.
My posting for six months is the joint Police Military command centre, known as PolMil. This facility is the centre of government in emergencies.
Working a 12-hour shift, I'm assigned to coordinate support services; helicopters, bomb disposal teams, the PTU platoons and other resources. I also act to keep the bosses briefed on significant incidents. Besides, I have a direct line to the Governor and the Commander British Forces.
At times it was hectic. While "action cards" guide you through most incidents, you also have to think on your feet. We made decisions that had far-reaching consequences, so the role entailed a lot of responsibility for a young inspector with only three years of service.
If things got complicated, you could call up the chain of command; direct support usually arrived within 20 minutes. But until then, you'd be directing the action.
All this is before mobile phones, so locating people could be a challenge. First, you'd call their homes, no response. Then you'd page them. With luck, they'd call back.
For example, in the 1990s, one Police Duty Officer decided to cut off a large part of Kowloon's water supply. A blackmailer had dumped a quantity of cyanide in a reservoir. With the amount unknown, about two million people faced possible poisoning.
As a young inspector with only limited service under his belt, he had the pluck to act. He called the head of the Water Supplies Department, telling him to shut off the water immediately.
Now, heads of departments don't typically take orders unless it's from the Governor. This one decided to listen and act. Fortunately, the cyanide soon dispersed as the water checked cleared for consumption. Nonetheless, the inspector made the right decision, earning praise for his action. The blackmailer committed suicide later.
The most significant event during my stint in PolMil was the taxi riot of Friday 13th January 1984. The government was seeking a new tax on taxi operators, with strong opposition from the trade was building over many weeks. A strike is threatened.
In a bold and reckless move, the Commissioner of Transport stated that he did not believe the taxi drivers would strike. At which point they did. Things escalated further when they blocked critical intersections to pressure the government by disrupting traffic flows.
This silliness went on for a week. Some traffic disruption resulted, although Hong Kong continued to function. The police response was being coordinated from PolMil, with extra staff to assist.
I spent my time organising helicopter flights for reconnaissance purposes. We had no CCTV. Thus, helicopters with spotters provided an overview of developments.
We had a helicopter pad on top of the canteen at Police HQ located between tower blocks. I watched in amazement as the Auxiliary Air Force approached, swung between the buildings, then landed in a space no bigger than a tennis court. They did this repeatedly over the week, even taking me for a spin to view what was happening.
The Force, while on alert and ready, was playing a hands-off game. The Police Tactical Unit was on standby and contingencies in place. As the event was non-violent, negotiations continued to resolve the matter. At such times, the CP is stressing that officers must not take any provocative actions. Thus, Police display a high degree of tolerance to behaviour that would typically warrant action.
On Friday evening, gangs of kids had gathered on Nathan Road to watch the blockade by the taxis. At road junctions in the Mongkok and Yaumati areas, plainclothes officers reported the mood was festive. However, known triad and hooligan elements were circulating in the crowds. The first sign of trouble arose from a foolish incident in my old division of Yaumati.
A teenager grabbed a bell from a bicycle and threw it at a passing police patrol van in a moment of recklessness. He hit and broke the rear window. For the officers, this was too much. They alighted, jumped on the kid and dragged him into the police van.
Making their way back to Yaumati Police Station, a hostile crowd followed. Yobs were soon throwing anything it could get their hands on at the building. The station went into lock-down. Officers drew anti-riot weapons and readied for action.
Meanwhile, at the junction of Nathan Road and Dundas Street, things had turned nasty. Seizing the opportunity, a group of hooligans smashed their way into a watch shop. Looting started.
The few plainclothes officers on the ground responded, catching the looters inside. Then a large crowd pressed in around the scene threatening the cops. A lone detective drew his service revolver to hold hundreds at bay.
In PolMil, the first news reports were coming in. Crowded around the TV, the sight of this lone detective brandishing his revolver caused shock. First, I heard calls for disciplinary action. Then as the TV cameras pulled back, the scale of the looting and rioting became clear. Finally, it dawned on us that the detective was doing an outstanding job. The man deserved a medal.
But someone had messed up. The Kowloon anti-riot units were switching over that day. Thus PTU was ill-placed to mount an initial response. Some quick work by the outgoing Company Commander, Ed Hillier, saved the day. He soon had his four platoons reformed. With looting spreading up and down Nathan Road, PTU needed to contain the rampage.
Ed Hillier led his men from Yaumati Police Station, pushing the crowds back. In the control room, we could hear the commotion through the radio. Orders to charge and fire tear gas billowed forth. A series of running battles developed.
The rioters dispersed into the side streets, out-flanking the police line, then reformed behind them. Constant action is needed to keep the looters on the move. The aim was not to arrest people; instead, the focus was dispersal.
Later in the evening, the Commandant PTU, Bob Steele, arrived to take charge of a sweep that went through most of the lower part of the Kowloon peninsula.
Simultaneously, CID units picked up looters as they fled the area. This description is only a snapshot of the thousands of events that unfolded that night. From my position in the control room, there was much confusion.
We had an unclear picture of what was happening; what information we had was misleading or misinterpreted. Orders and counter-orders came out at a fast pace. The whole episode was a lesson in leaving officers on the ground to get on with the job.
Please make sure they are well-supported with reserves but trust your people and their training. In such situations, it's pointless for people in command posts to take tactical decisions. They had inadequate timely information.
This forgotten lesson had to be re-learned on many occasions. Even with comprehensive CCTV coverage, command posts have an inadequate understanding.
I later heard that one senior commander on the ground turned off his radio in frustration. Instead, he opted to defend a section of shops, holding his position all night.
That evening burnished a few officers reputations, and others suffered. One senior officer earned the nickname "Chicken George." He "became confused" in the face of the rioting, which meant his more robust deputy stepped in while George took a rest in his office.
And what of the striking taxi drivers? Once the first signs of trouble started, they're gone. In the following days, they asserted they could not be held responsible. While that may be true, they helped create the circumstances that led to the rioting.
Preceding the taxi riot over Christmas 1983 was a mini-disturbance in Central. Gangs of youths went on the rampage resulting in 18 arrests, with seven cars damaged.
The same scenario played out on New Years Day, although the violence flared up in Admiralty with several Expats roughed up.
These events prompted much soul-searching by the government. It appeared sentiment amongst some young people were turning hostile - how history repeats itself.
These flare-ups of trouble pointed to simmering tension in Hong Kong. Afterwards, the alarmed government goes into its usual spasm of soul-searching.
Why are the kids angry? What do we need to do? Do we need to work harder to address the underlying injustices? How remains the challenging question.
The most arduous job in PolMil involved writing the morning situation report. Then getting it circulated on time. Besides, computers were starting to appear, with limited functions. That was a challenge.
Yet, the report is handwritten, typed and then copied on a Xerox machine; then dispatched by motorcycle to the Governor and various officials. One copy went to London.
My boss arrived every morning at about 7 am to check the final draft report before dispatch. An old colonial who'd seen action in Africa, I never saw the man eat. Instead, vast amounts of coffee sustained him. He spotted my many errors, politely pointed them out and then went about his day. By 8 am, he'd be gone.
One of the perks of working in PolMil was access to the military communications system linked to the UK. In those days, making a call home involved a trek to the Cable and Wireless Office. You had to book a call and then await the connection. Plus, it cost a fortune.
The lovely ladies who ran the Communications Suite let me make calls as a system test in the logbook. Although, why the Hong Kong Garrison would be calling my Mum on a secure line was never questioned.
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