The Blue Berets - 1958 to 1997.
The Police Tactical Unit (PTU) was born of adversity. It has continued through a half century to be at the forefront of all policing challenges. Sometimes applauded as Hong Kong’s best insurance policy, whilst at other times decried as a ruthless, aggressive unit. The truth is more prosaic but nonetheless compelling. The media are apt to portray the ‘Blue Berets’ as an elite unit, with all the intrigue such a title confers. The reality is most Hong Kong Police officers can expect at least one PTU attachment in their career.
I was fortunate to serve as a Platoon Commander, Instructor, Chief Instructor, Company Commander and Deputy Commandant with the PTU. I aim here to reflect on the history of the PTU, as it evolved into the modern unit that plays a vital role in keeping Hong Kong safe.
Sitting here in 2017, I often hear voices asserting that the colonial era Royal Hong Kong Police and the PTU was a much more benevolent entity. This rose-tinted view is hardly supported by a cold examination of the evidence. These opinions say more about the commentator's lack of understanding than the facts.
The events of October 1956 were the genesis of the PTU. On 10th October 1956, celebrations of the 1911 October Revolution were underway. This anniversary usually inflamed simmering tensions between the Nationalist and Leftist communities. Each side is vigilant and spoiling for trouble. Enter a hapless and somewhat over-zealous housing official. He decides to order the removal of a Nationalist flag, asserting it is provocative. Shortly after the order is carried out, mobs spread from the Nationalist settlements in Kowloon. They loot shops and attack property known to belong to Communist sympathisers. For two days the so-called ‘double tenth’ riots rattled the colony, as disorder spread across Kowloon and Tsuen Wan.
Even the wife of Swiss Consul got caught up in the disturbances with her taxi attacked. She died two days later. So serious did the situation become in Tsuen Wan that the British Army Queen’s Own 7th Hussars Regiment deployed. Order came only after 59 deaths and over 500 injured. Four people were later executed for their involvement in killings.
The fact that the Hong Kong Police Force could not contain the situation caused grave concern. The Force proved ill-equipped and psychologically unprepared. Whilst the level of violence caught the Police unready.
A single pamphlet was the only advice available to Police commanders. It outlined the basic anti-riot formations and the kit needed. Beyond this scant detail, commanders were on their own. Moreover, a lack of transport and poor communications hampered any effort to mount a coordinated response. Some formations, such as the Emergency Units proved enthusiastic. They made a determined effort to curtail the violence but alone could not disperse the rioters. Other units proved less robust. Overall, an ill-coordinated response met with little success.
In the aftermath a working group formed with the task of re-vamping the readiness of the Force. Mr. J.B. Lees and Mr. Les Guyatt headed the team. They later became the first Commandant and Chief Instructor of the new Police Training Contingent (PTC). Both had military experience, a fact that was to have a bearing on the outcomes of their work. A study of existing anti-riot units worldwide was undertaken. Soon a shopping list of equipment, tactics and training was soon drawn up.
By late 1957 a complete overhaul of the approach to anti-riot work was ready. A single training depot, a restructuring, new equipment and all officers to attend in-service training. The aim was to have a standardised response known to all officers. For flexibility, the system envisaged the ability to slot officers into the anti-riot role as and when required. Yet, the proposals went further. A Force-wide reserve structure came into being. This meant resources can be called upon, coordinated and deployed at short notice.
With an abandoned army camp at Volunteer Slopes as the base and a budget of $1,496,950- work started.
The Volunteer Slopes needed some renovation. The site was a run-down, mosquito-infested collection of huts lacking any comforts. This is a description that PTU officers would recognise into the 1980s, as the renovations were superficial at best. Most of the buildings were Nissan huts. A simple prefabricated steel structure with concrete supports. Designed in World War I and extensively used by the military during World War II, the Nissan hut is intended as a temporary structure. Most remained in place until 1986.
The first 345 officers entered Volunteer Slopes to start training in February 1958. This initial cohort composed volunteers to undergo a six months residential course. The aim to form two companies proved ambitious. The PTC struggled to secure enough volunteers with the second company was not always at full strength. Given the manpower constraints, the size of company varied from three to five platoons. Each platoon with 41 officers.
To ease the situation non-volunteers were accepted. Immediately, officers pending discipline action found themselves heading to Fanling. Units took the opportunity to divest of their trouble makers. This did nothing for the quality of the companies and became a constant headache. This remained an issue into the 1980s, with constant vigilance needed to prevent formations sending their problems to PTU.
In the early year's officers from the land formations only went to the PTC for training. Starting in 1963 Marine Police officers joined, forming a single platoon at a time. By the 1970s, as the Force expanded the PTC to eight companies, each with three platoons. A reserve system operated with six active companies and two dormant. Thus the Force could have eight deployable companies within days. By 1980 the situation was regularised with the establishment of six companies, each with four platoons. This structure, with minor adjustments, remains in place to the present day.
Regimented training and tactics were the order of the day. Most actions were carried out as drill movements in strict order. These methods harked back to the Roman times as soldiers ‘drilled’ until their response was automatic. This approach serves a crucial purpose. Under stress during a riot, with noise and threats acting as distractions, you can revert to the training. An embedded rote response to orders. These principles apply today, although a greater degree of flexibility has been introduced.
With great foresight, the Working Group proposed an emphasis on physical fitness. In recognition that long stressful deployments take their toll. Only by honing fitness could officers hope to remain resolute and alert during long operations. This founding principle was to prove crucial to the success of PTU. In later years the importance of fitness training grew. As the cyber generation arrived, their lack of innate fitness threatened to compromise PTUs abilities.
To drive home the fitness message, the PTU course took on outward bound training. Hill-walking, navigation, team-building, leadership challenges and assault courses. Coupled with self-defense sessions, weight training and drills this soon had an impact on the officer. Natural team-cohesion occurred in this competitive environment. Awards such as the Best Platoon Trophy fostered this effort.
The training culminated in a series of exercises. Officers faced an enemy intent on stoning and out-maneuvering them, in a series of running battles. These exercises tested all the drills and lessons taught. Under stressful conditions, company and platoon commanders had to plan and execute operations. Meanwhile, the ever-vigilant staff provided constant distractions. These exercises concluded with thorough debriefs. Officers were asked to reflect on their shortcomings and strengths. Whilst not always a pleasant experience, such debriefs proved cathartic. By these methods we taught ‘Failing to plan is planning to fail’. Just as important was ‘ No plan survives contact with the enemy.’
In the 1960s not everyone was supportive of these initiatives. The unit drew officers away from the front-line for extended periods. Whilst a few questioned the merits of committing so much time and energy to training that may never be needed.
The events of April 1966 silenced these dissenting voices. The details of the Star Ferry riots, between 5th and 8th April 1966, I’ll cover the elsewhere. Save to say, a heady mix of social discontent, youth angst and hapless government all contributed. Sounds familiar.
The revamped anti-riot tactics proved their worth. Law and order re-established in face of serious resistance. By the conclusion of the disturbance 1,465 were under arrest, with one person one shot dead by the police. But the Star Ferry riot was a foretaste of what was to come. It tested systems and procedures, it could hardly prepare the Force for the sustained disorder of 1967.
The origins of the 1967 riots I’ll cover in another article. Again, no one single factor was at play. A potent interconnecting melee of issues swirled around. The unfolding ‘Cultural Revolution’ plus a slack economy and industrial disputes played a part. Coupled with the revolutionary zeitgeist of the late 1960s, it all came together in an explosion of unrest.
An industrial dispute in April 1967, at a plastic flower factory in San Po Kong, was the spark. This incident soon drew in local communist supporters. The event morphed into a conflict between colonial and mainland interests. Rioting throughout the summer tested the Police, who had to seek military support. Nonetheless, the Police Training Contingent proved its worth. The pace of training accelerated that year to meet demands, whilst the unit size increased.
As the rioting subsided, a left bombing campaign soon eroded public support for their cause. With Beijing taking a hands-off stance, the local leftists were isolated. Arrests, convictions and deportations further undermined their ability to function by late 1967.
With calm returning in early 1968, the role of the unit was subject to further review and evaluation. The value of anti-riot training was now well recognised. Moreover, the need to have a good part of the Force trained was clear. By 1972 the establishment of the now Police Tactical Unit (PTU) was set at eight companies, although only six formed up at any time. On completion of training, companies returned to their respective Regions for operational attachment. Thus anti-riot training spread throughout the Force, as it became a part of an officer's career path.
Adopted in 1969, for reasons of comfort, the distinctive ‘Blue Beret’ that became the symbol of the PTU. At first worn only in training, it proved popular. The Press were soon labelling the unit ‘The Blue Berets’. Thus it was decided to capitalise on this publicity. The flash that sits behind the badge came later. The colours came from the puggaree around the topee worn by officers before World War II.
Throughout the 1970s the equipment and weapons of the PTU evolved, as items became obsolete and new options emerged. The platoons also underwent a restructuring that saw each section with a different degree of force.
In a notable move, the baton charge was dropped as a tactical option. The first section became the arrest section. A philosophy emerged of keeping rioters at a distance, using stand-off weapons to disperse them. The second section, with smoke weapons, was the primary means of dispersal. The third section, with baton rounds, had a higher degree of force and finally, four section had lethal options with shotguns and rifles. This model was to remain unchanged with a few adaptations. Although the events of ‘Occupy’ saw the appearance of ‘close-quarter’ options. The effectiveness of these is with debatable.
In 1985 many of the PTU instructors, myself included, began pushing for a gradual relaxation of the formal drills. We perceived these to hamper flexibility in operations. After protracted consideration, more flexible drills were introduced. Although to this day, the initial stages of training still include drill movements. These teach basic weapon handling and positioning of officers. Drills also serve as a quick method of imposing ‘team spirit’. Officers soon bond in the face of the common adversary, the drill sergeant.
PTU faced a new challenge in the 1980s. The arrival of thousands of Vietnamese Refugees overwhelmed the government’s ability to house them. The initial ‘open camp’ policy was soon abandoned. It was seen to encourage more arrivals, whilst the wider community feared an increase in crime. Yet, closed camps created new difficulties. Anger boiled up at the prolonged detention. Meanwhile, gangs developed, leading to large-scale fights over illegal alcohol sales or access to drugs.
I was involved in responding to the first of Vietnamese riots in 1982 at the Kai Tak Open Camp. With strict instructions not to use smoke weapons, my platoon fought hand to hand to separate two groups of Vietnamese. The Vietnamese had their own tactics; pushing woman and children to the front. The men then hurled stones at us and used catapults to inflict injuries from cover. As dispersal was not an option with Vietnamese rioters confined in camps, PTU evolved more static tactics with long shields.
To get the officers ready for operations in Vietnamese camps we introduced Kamp Ten training. Using a simulated Vietnamese Camp, this exercise commenced with forcing entry through a contested gate. A hail of rocks and real petrol bombs tested resolve. Once inside the camp, the officers then had to sweep the ground, clearing buildings as they went. This fierce and exhausting exercise soon became the unofficial final test of PTU training. Real courage and physical determination were needed to complete this gruelling exercise.
Unfortunately, smoke remained the only effective option at times in the Vietnamese Camps. This had terrible consequences for the many refugee children and women. Moreover, the impact on surrounding communities did not endear us to the public. With CS smoke drifting through Ma On Shan after incidents at Whitehead Camp. No one relished such duties given that innocent kids caught up in the violence.
Having said that, it remained true that disorder had to suppressed before matters escalated. In February 1992, 18 Vietnamese died at the Sek Kong Camp when a dispute over access to water flared. Again, it was south versus north Vietnamese. Outnumbered police officers were unable to contain the situation, as huts were burnt down. Only after 400 officers arrived and the firing of 33 rounds of CS smoke was control regained. But by then it was too late.
To help contain matters, the PTU deployed to the Vietnamese camps to search for weapons, drugs and illegal alcohol. At times the haul of weapons was staggering. The Vietnamese, with plenty of time on their hands, proved masters of innovation. Swords, spears, knives, darts and shields were all produced in large qualities. The homemade gas masks always impressed. Constructed from sanitary towels impregnated with charcoal. These proved partially effective against our CS smoke. We always had a wary respect for the Vietnamese, who displayed considerable ingenuity.
The role of the PTU gained added importance as 1997 approached. With unsettled times ahead, political sensitivities placed constraints on the military's role. In recognition of this situation, the PTU needed an investment in its future. In 1986 PTU moved into temporary accommodation, whilst the Volunteer Slopes site was re-built.
The new PTU depot came on-line in 1990 with air conditioned barracks, a sports complex, ranges, training areas and a radio workshop. But the regime remained the same. Tight discipline, tough physical training, demanding practical exercises and an exhaustive pace.
From humble origins in a collection of antiquated Nissan Huts, the PTU is now housed in a state-of-art complex. And, ready to face the challenges of the future.
I was fortunate to serve as a Platoon Commander, Instructor, Chief Instructor, Company Commander and Deputy Commandant with the PTU. I aim here to reflect on the history of the PTU, as it evolved into the modern unit that plays a vital role in keeping Hong Kong safe.
Sitting here in 2017, I often hear voices asserting that the colonial era Royal Hong Kong Police and the PTU was a much more benevolent entity. This rose-tinted view is hardly supported by a cold examination of the evidence. These opinions say more about the commentator's lack of understanding than the facts.
The events of October 1956 were the genesis of the PTU. On 10th October 1956, celebrations of the 1911 October Revolution were underway. This anniversary usually inflamed simmering tensions between the Nationalist and Leftist communities. Each side is vigilant and spoiling for trouble. Enter a hapless and somewhat over-zealous housing official. He decides to order the removal of a Nationalist flag, asserting it is provocative. Shortly after the order is carried out, mobs spread from the Nationalist settlements in Kowloon. They loot shops and attack property known to belong to Communist sympathisers. For two days the so-called ‘double tenth’ riots rattled the colony, as disorder spread across Kowloon and Tsuen Wan.
Even the wife of Swiss Consul got caught up in the disturbances with her taxi attacked. She died two days later. So serious did the situation become in Tsuen Wan that the British Army Queen’s Own 7th Hussars Regiment deployed. Order came only after 59 deaths and over 500 injured. Four people were later executed for their involvement in killings.
The fact that the Hong Kong Police Force could not contain the situation caused grave concern. The Force proved ill-equipped and psychologically unprepared. Whilst the level of violence caught the Police unready.
A single pamphlet was the only advice available to Police commanders. It outlined the basic anti-riot formations and the kit needed. Beyond this scant detail, commanders were on their own. Moreover, a lack of transport and poor communications hampered any effort to mount a coordinated response. Some formations, such as the Emergency Units proved enthusiastic. They made a determined effort to curtail the violence but alone could not disperse the rioters. Other units proved less robust. Overall, an ill-coordinated response met with little success.
In the aftermath a working group formed with the task of re-vamping the readiness of the Force. Mr. J.B. Lees and Mr. Les Guyatt headed the team. They later became the first Commandant and Chief Instructor of the new Police Training Contingent (PTC). Both had military experience, a fact that was to have a bearing on the outcomes of their work. A study of existing anti-riot units worldwide was undertaken. Soon a shopping list of equipment, tactics and training was soon drawn up.
By late 1957 a complete overhaul of the approach to anti-riot work was ready. A single training depot, a restructuring, new equipment and all officers to attend in-service training. The aim was to have a standardised response known to all officers. For flexibility, the system envisaged the ability to slot officers into the anti-riot role as and when required. Yet, the proposals went further. A Force-wide reserve structure came into being. This meant resources can be called upon, coordinated and deployed at short notice.
With an abandoned army camp at Volunteer Slopes as the base and a budget of $1,496,950- work started.
The Volunteer Slopes needed some renovation. The site was a run-down, mosquito-infested collection of huts lacking any comforts. This is a description that PTU officers would recognise into the 1980s, as the renovations were superficial at best. Most of the buildings were Nissan huts. A simple prefabricated steel structure with concrete supports. Designed in World War I and extensively used by the military during World War II, the Nissan hut is intended as a temporary structure. Most remained in place until 1986.
The first 345 officers entered Volunteer Slopes to start training in February 1958. This initial cohort composed volunteers to undergo a six months residential course. The aim to form two companies proved ambitious. The PTC struggled to secure enough volunteers with the second company was not always at full strength. Given the manpower constraints, the size of company varied from three to five platoons. Each platoon with 41 officers.
To ease the situation non-volunteers were accepted. Immediately, officers pending discipline action found themselves heading to Fanling. Units took the opportunity to divest of their trouble makers. This did nothing for the quality of the companies and became a constant headache. This remained an issue into the 1980s, with constant vigilance needed to prevent formations sending their problems to PTU.
In the early year's officers from the land formations only went to the PTC for training. Starting in 1963 Marine Police officers joined, forming a single platoon at a time. By the 1970s, as the Force expanded the PTC to eight companies, each with three platoons. A reserve system operated with six active companies and two dormant. Thus the Force could have eight deployable companies within days. By 1980 the situation was regularised with the establishment of six companies, each with four platoons. This structure, with minor adjustments, remains in place to the present day.
Regimented training and tactics were the order of the day. Most actions were carried out as drill movements in strict order. These methods harked back to the Roman times as soldiers ‘drilled’ until their response was automatic. This approach serves a crucial purpose. Under stress during a riot, with noise and threats acting as distractions, you can revert to the training. An embedded rote response to orders. These principles apply today, although a greater degree of flexibility has been introduced.
With great foresight, the Working Group proposed an emphasis on physical fitness. In recognition that long stressful deployments take their toll. Only by honing fitness could officers hope to remain resolute and alert during long operations. This founding principle was to prove crucial to the success of PTU. In later years the importance of fitness training grew. As the cyber generation arrived, their lack of innate fitness threatened to compromise PTUs abilities.
To drive home the fitness message, the PTU course took on outward bound training. Hill-walking, navigation, team-building, leadership challenges and assault courses. Coupled with self-defense sessions, weight training and drills this soon had an impact on the officer. Natural team-cohesion occurred in this competitive environment. Awards such as the Best Platoon Trophy fostered this effort.
The training culminated in a series of exercises. Officers faced an enemy intent on stoning and out-maneuvering them, in a series of running battles. These exercises tested all the drills and lessons taught. Under stressful conditions, company and platoon commanders had to plan and execute operations. Meanwhile, the ever-vigilant staff provided constant distractions. These exercises concluded with thorough debriefs. Officers were asked to reflect on their shortcomings and strengths. Whilst not always a pleasant experience, such debriefs proved cathartic. By these methods we taught ‘Failing to plan is planning to fail’. Just as important was ‘ No plan survives contact with the enemy.’
In the 1960s not everyone was supportive of these initiatives. The unit drew officers away from the front-line for extended periods. Whilst a few questioned the merits of committing so much time and energy to training that may never be needed.
The events of April 1966 silenced these dissenting voices. The details of the Star Ferry riots, between 5th and 8th April 1966, I’ll cover the elsewhere. Save to say, a heady mix of social discontent, youth angst and hapless government all contributed. Sounds familiar.
The revamped anti-riot tactics proved their worth. Law and order re-established in face of serious resistance. By the conclusion of the disturbance 1,465 were under arrest, with one person one shot dead by the police. But the Star Ferry riot was a foretaste of what was to come. It tested systems and procedures, it could hardly prepare the Force for the sustained disorder of 1967.
The origins of the 1967 riots I’ll cover in another article. Again, no one single factor was at play. A potent interconnecting melee of issues swirled around. The unfolding ‘Cultural Revolution’ plus a slack economy and industrial disputes played a part. Coupled with the revolutionary zeitgeist of the late 1960s, it all came together in an explosion of unrest.
An industrial dispute in April 1967, at a plastic flower factory in San Po Kong, was the spark. This incident soon drew in local communist supporters. The event morphed into a conflict between colonial and mainland interests. Rioting throughout the summer tested the Police, who had to seek military support. Nonetheless, the Police Training Contingent proved its worth. The pace of training accelerated that year to meet demands, whilst the unit size increased.
As the rioting subsided, a left bombing campaign soon eroded public support for their cause. With Beijing taking a hands-off stance, the local leftists were isolated. Arrests, convictions and deportations further undermined their ability to function by late 1967.
With calm returning in early 1968, the role of the unit was subject to further review and evaluation. The value of anti-riot training was now well recognised. Moreover, the need to have a good part of the Force trained was clear. By 1972 the establishment of the now Police Tactical Unit (PTU) was set at eight companies, although only six formed up at any time. On completion of training, companies returned to their respective Regions for operational attachment. Thus anti-riot training spread throughout the Force, as it became a part of an officer's career path.
Adopted in 1969, for reasons of comfort, the distinctive ‘Blue Beret’ that became the symbol of the PTU. At first worn only in training, it proved popular. The Press were soon labelling the unit ‘The Blue Berets’. Thus it was decided to capitalise on this publicity. The flash that sits behind the badge came later. The colours came from the puggaree around the topee worn by officers before World War II.
Throughout the 1970s the equipment and weapons of the PTU evolved, as items became obsolete and new options emerged. The platoons also underwent a restructuring that saw each section with a different degree of force.
In a notable move, the baton charge was dropped as a tactical option. The first section became the arrest section. A philosophy emerged of keeping rioters at a distance, using stand-off weapons to disperse them. The second section, with smoke weapons, was the primary means of dispersal. The third section, with baton rounds, had a higher degree of force and finally, four section had lethal options with shotguns and rifles. This model was to remain unchanged with a few adaptations. Although the events of ‘Occupy’ saw the appearance of ‘close-quarter’ options. The effectiveness of these is with debatable.
In 1985 many of the PTU instructors, myself included, began pushing for a gradual relaxation of the formal drills. We perceived these to hamper flexibility in operations. After protracted consideration, more flexible drills were introduced. Although to this day, the initial stages of training still include drill movements. These teach basic weapon handling and positioning of officers. Drills also serve as a quick method of imposing ‘team spirit’. Officers soon bond in the face of the common adversary, the drill sergeant.
PTU faced a new challenge in the 1980s. The arrival of thousands of Vietnamese Refugees overwhelmed the government’s ability to house them. The initial ‘open camp’ policy was soon abandoned. It was seen to encourage more arrivals, whilst the wider community feared an increase in crime. Yet, closed camps created new difficulties. Anger boiled up at the prolonged detention. Meanwhile, gangs developed, leading to large-scale fights over illegal alcohol sales or access to drugs.
I was involved in responding to the first of Vietnamese riots in 1982 at the Kai Tak Open Camp. With strict instructions not to use smoke weapons, my platoon fought hand to hand to separate two groups of Vietnamese. The Vietnamese had their own tactics; pushing woman and children to the front. The men then hurled stones at us and used catapults to inflict injuries from cover. As dispersal was not an option with Vietnamese rioters confined in camps, PTU evolved more static tactics with long shields.
To get the officers ready for operations in Vietnamese camps we introduced Kamp Ten training. Using a simulated Vietnamese Camp, this exercise commenced with forcing entry through a contested gate. A hail of rocks and real petrol bombs tested resolve. Once inside the camp, the officers then had to sweep the ground, clearing buildings as they went. This fierce and exhausting exercise soon became the unofficial final test of PTU training. Real courage and physical determination were needed to complete this gruelling exercise.
Unfortunately, smoke remained the only effective option at times in the Vietnamese Camps. This had terrible consequences for the many refugee children and women. Moreover, the impact on surrounding communities did not endear us to the public. With CS smoke drifting through Ma On Shan after incidents at Whitehead Camp. No one relished such duties given that innocent kids caught up in the violence.
Having said that, it remained true that disorder had to suppressed before matters escalated. In February 1992, 18 Vietnamese died at the Sek Kong Camp when a dispute over access to water flared. Again, it was south versus north Vietnamese. Outnumbered police officers were unable to contain the situation, as huts were burnt down. Only after 400 officers arrived and the firing of 33 rounds of CS smoke was control regained. But by then it was too late.
To help contain matters, the PTU deployed to the Vietnamese camps to search for weapons, drugs and illegal alcohol. At times the haul of weapons was staggering. The Vietnamese, with plenty of time on their hands, proved masters of innovation. Swords, spears, knives, darts and shields were all produced in large qualities. The homemade gas masks always impressed. Constructed from sanitary towels impregnated with charcoal. These proved partially effective against our CS smoke. We always had a wary respect for the Vietnamese, who displayed considerable ingenuity.
The role of the PTU gained added importance as 1997 approached. With unsettled times ahead, political sensitivities placed constraints on the military's role. In recognition of this situation, the PTU needed an investment in its future. In 1986 PTU moved into temporary accommodation, whilst the Volunteer Slopes site was re-built.
The new PTU depot came on-line in 1990 with air conditioned barracks, a sports complex, ranges, training areas and a radio workshop. But the regime remained the same. Tight discipline, tough physical training, demanding practical exercises and an exhaustive pace.
From humble origins in a collection of antiquated Nissan Huts, the PTU is now housed in a state-of-art complex. And, ready to face the challenges of the future.
