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-   -   The "Criminals Are Schmucks" Thread... (http://board.crossfit.com/showthread.php?t=17231)

Eugene R. Allen 05-24-2005 08:14 AM

SWAT callout for a guy who pointed a gun out his front door at a pair of deputies making a traffic stop in front of his house. All of these things happened during a single callout:

1. I ran down the street to our box van to get some bolt cutters to get through a front gate. The only ones I could find were about 4 feet long. Difficult to carry with all my weapons and gear and I waddled up to the gate with another operator who held the little tiny lock between the gate bars (completely exposed to the house) and delicately cut with the huge cutters. A light came on and we ran away and hid behind a dirt pile which we discovered was actually beauty bark. Not good cover.

2. The team leader took nearly 20 shots with a pellet gun at a light that would not go out...at least it would not stay out. It kept flicking back to life.

3. We got the OK for gas and to break some windows for ventilation. Everyone on the team stoned the house for 10 minutes.

4. We deployed our hot box (nicknamed Marilyn) which is an ammo can with holes with an incendiary CS grenade inside. Shield team of 4 made way for the door...uh ohh, light came on again. We backed out. Light went off. Sneaky moto approach again...ahhhh...the light. We backed off. Motion sensor.

5. Gas guy uses Shot Lok door breaching round but the round was a dud and went tink...tink..tink..tinktinktink plop out the end of the barrel. So did the second round and we were all cracking up right there at the door.

6. Team leader goes to ram the door but uses the wrong end and goes through the glass and wood lattice to his armpit. We got his arm back out, laughed ourselves silly as we stepped inside and dropped off Marilyn and laughed all the way back to our near cover.

7. We got to use an Air Farce remote controlled robot to check out the house and find the bad guy...we thought he might have shot himself by this time...somebody heard a pop and we were getting no response from the gas. The robot got caught up on the lawn, its own cable, a Doritos bag and a throw pillow. We had to run up and free it each of those times.

As it turned out the bad guy blew his brains out with a .45. This call prompted a rather lengthy poem from me at the Christmas party.

Jonathan Kessler 05-24-2005 08:42 AM

I am not a cop. Nor do I play one on TV. But I was awakened by a phone call from the SWAT team once...
Way back in the '80's I was renting an "in law unit" (separate entrance, etc.) in a house at the time, and my landlord was crazy. Nice guy (a doctor who ran a low cost health clinic, never turned anyone away, good heart...), but a little crazy. Well, more than a little. He and his girlfriend had driven down to TJ for the weekend, gotten back about 4 am. His gf's parent's came by to check in (because they hadn't heard from her all weekend or some such) about 7 am, knocked at the door and wouldn't go away. He responded by firing a .22 through the door. I had slept through all this.
So I'm awakened at 8 am by a call from the SWAT team on my phone line. They had the house surrounded, and my landlord wasn't answering his phone. So we talk, and let them know that I'll be coming out of the house with my bass guitar (had a gig that day). So I come out. SWAT team snipers in the trees. The whole thing is more than alittle surreal. I go next door to the neighbor's house where they've set up their post. The Dr. is still not answering his phone, no communication. I offer to go in and talk to him, 'cos to me he's just my landlord. The SWAT guys are surprised, since to them he's an armed and dangerous guy (good perspective, that). Anyway, I go up to the door, yell in that it's me, and he lets me in. He and his GF are inside making breakfast, pretending that nothing is happening!!! I explain that the SWAT team has the place surrounded, there are snipers in the trees, the phone ringing is the cops and hey, man, you've really got to talk to these guys or things will get bad. So he calmly finishes breakfast and then answers the phone and deals with the police...
Very surreal, at least for me, but much happier ending than some of these other stories.
And I was really pleasantly surprised at the professionalism of the SWAT team, in their interactions with a 20-something long haired hippie musician (me) during the event.
JK

Dan Silver 05-24-2005 01:41 PM

It's a toss-up but, Jonathan and Eugene, those are two of the funniest stories I've ever read.

-D.

Lynne Pitts 05-24-2005 03:06 PM

We got to use an Air Farce remote ...

I'll trust that's a typo... You don't bust on my service and I won't start with the donut cracks, 'k??

William Hunter 05-24-2005 05:12 PM

G'damn! That Lin Pitz doesn't miss a thing!

HSPU's are on their way.

Eugene R. Allen 05-24-2005 05:42 PM

Sorry Lynne, I was not specific enough with my depreciative comment. I made it Air Force wide rather than specific to the 3rd world POS we had to endure with that callout. I wasn't kidding about what thwarted the robot. The lawn stopped it and a Doritos bag got hung up in the tread somehow and I actually had to go inside the house and pull the bag out of the tread runner. It did eventually serve us by showing us the guy's brains on the wall (a fairly reliable indicator of a non-combatant) and allowing us a bit of foreknowledge as to layout and (lack of) threat...so it wasn't a total bust. Squids, Jarheads, Air Farce, Flatfoot - pet names my friends and I have for each other's military flavor. I meant no bust.

Ted Williams 05-24-2005 06:15 PM

Yeah Eugene takes it....that's damn funny. My suicide story isn't nearly as funny as that. Darn it all.

"Send in the robot to fix the robot!" :rofl:

David Wood 05-24-2005 07:04 PM

I used to live in Downtown San Jose, way back in the late 70's, before it was rehabilitated. We used to refer to it as the "wine country" for all the drunks and winos.

One afternoon I'm napping in my (ground-floor) apartment and someone tries to break in by smashing one of the small panes in the window directly over the bed where I'm sleeping. When he reached in through the broken window to undo the latch I just grabbed his hand and ran his wrist along the broken glass left in the frame.

He vanished . . .

Coach 05-24-2005 09:47 PM

Alright, Eug, let's here the poem!

Lynne Pitts 05-25-2005 12:54 AM

Thanks, Eugene.
Among my cross-service buds, we all insult each other too, but I wouldn't put a blanket insult out there on a public site...BUT I can appreciate your frustration with the robot.

Of course, it could have been the fault of the remote-control operator who wasn't driving it around those daunting obstacles...:wink:


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