Police Training School. PTS. RHKP. | Gwulo: Old Hong Kong

Police Training School. PTS. RHKP.

Police Training School. PTS. RHKP.

Living in the outside refreshment area outside the Officers Mess at PTS were 2 VIP's - the Mess Mascots, 2 white ducks. Running around loose outside and under your feet, you dare not shout or push them away with your foot because that was an insult to the Officers Mess and God would stick a thunder bolt up your ass, so the 2 of them lived a good protected life. At each new officer intake at PTS.there would be a Dining In Night, the Formal Officers Mess Night with full dress uniform. Black tie, Manners, port, toasts, speaches everything. A Duck Major was appointed and it was his job to present the Mascot Duck to all new officers welcomed into the mess. The best looking duck of the day was caught, washed, groomed, pedicured and dressed in his own mess uniform, badges and black tie and at his introduction time the Duck Major would climb on top of the tables, arranged in rows and formally introduce the duck to the members new and old, the members had to formally acknowledge the duck and stroke its head. Then and only then were new members were formally accepted into the mess. Secret; You fed the duck about 1 hour before the presentation. At the presentation, you squeezed the duck at the front to make it quack in acknowledgement to the presented ouside honoured quests, they thought that the duck was talking to them, very enjoyable and raised cheeres and handclapping esp; with the locals, however if you squeezed it at the mid to back section then it poo'ed over the people you pointed the rear end at to great effect. Like being covered in a large raw egg fired from a shot-gun. Again much to the delight of everyone and considered an honour to be so knighted by the Mess Mascot. Well whatelse could you do in front of about 200 male/female Officers. 



The Duck Major in the photo is my friend Steve Brown from South Africa. Thats me with the arm raised. To my left is Ken Drain from New Zealand. Across from me with the moust. is Ian Holloway from Blackpool. He is looking at his instructor (? who was scottish) and the last on the right is Frank Murphy a Scot. Duck Major Steve went on to Fan Ling (PTU) then SDU. Operating Kowloon. 

There was an emergency call to a Kowloon address. Poss. guns. shouting. fighting etc. Steve attended and I went as backup (MU) instant call out.(hostage situation etc) The address was rented out to a middle aged local. The arguement was; a wife who had children by him, came to the address and found her husband living there with his other wife and his concubine and another girlfriend and all of their children. Then another girlfriend turned up who had her own kids and thats when the brown stuff really hit the fan and a huge punch up started leading to the floor being evacuated. Ready for action I walked into the room with Steve and it all went quiet, 2 gwylo officers in one room in one go- too much for the locals, so it all went quiet. The main man of the problem this male, stud, mating machine, was standing up and had his back to me and he turned around . Truth.. His eyes were level with my belt buckle. I had to bend down to talk to him. Local women fell for his charm and he took advantage and just kept on going. Conclusion, no guns we left. local police to deal. 

The Instructor was Robert St John Avery TOAL,aka Bob Toal,later Chief Superintendent,now sadly ceased.

That is right (mem. going) and thanks for that who-ever wrote the above. Do you remember this one. Mess night games. Fan Hanging contest. In the mess were the big ceiling fan machines. The idea was, stand on the table. Fingers around the rotating fan base, hold on, feet up, fan on and see how long you can hold on for. The fan only went round slow due to the weight of the person. The longest was nearly 5 minutes to the loud table banging of the diners. Fai Jai (fat boy) (I don't know who) one of the other classes had a go, gripped and turned. About 40 seconds into his journey and with a crunching sound, the fan, ceiling, plaster and woodwork decided to join us for dinner. Non-plussed the diners still sitting, brushed the demolition debris from their outfits and meal and carried on as if this sort of thing was a natural occurrance. Because we're British see. It was similar to the dinner scene in the carry on films-- Sid James Carry on up the Khyber. If not mentioned now these little ditties would be lost forever. 

Not only did we have dinner at our last supper before being posted but we also had a BBQ on the lawn outside the single officers accomodation block. Sited on the green were beer machines 2 double taps and 3 single taps. The brewery delivered, you paid for the whole lot, you had the do and they took them away. Empty or otherwise. In the early hours we discovered that one single tap machine hadn't been touched and was full and was about to be taken away. SO we kidnapped the machine. The ex-navy boys rigged a pulley system and the liberated machine was hoisted high into the attic of the block and camouflaged where it stayed for 5 days whilst the joys were sampled. Meanwhile, the brewery complained and a search was mounted all over for the missing machine but never found, it was known that if anyone grassed up the location then they would take the place of the machine. The PTS Commandant (Ken???) who later retired and became a lay preacher got served with a legal notice from the brewery for the return and he got frantic and made appeals to all of PTS and eventually got the machine back....empty. Value for money? Steve Leuty and Matt Handley ex-navy your pulley certainly worked. Hows that for a grass up.  

PTS Commandant- Ken Farmer.

     ' Our Commandant,who art in PTS,Farmer be thy name...........'

thanks for that. the memory slips with the years. Nice to know someone is reading old stories before they are lost. I suppose Ken he is dead now, he was about 300yrs old when at PTS. Hope you enjoy. Ray

Bob Toal was a quiet man I heard a story that during the 67 riots the locals were really getting bad and they were centering on a department store that they had taken over. Down the narrow alley between this building and the next the baddies had set up a huge megaphone on the 2 or 3 floor and were broadcasting anti gov't stuff and getting the other baddies into a frenzy. Police couldn't do anything because the alley was so narrow and defended. Bob and some other  got hold of a RHKP riot shotgun. Our shotguns were about 2x the size of a normal one with a wooden stock that went to the end of the barrel and fired a big long brass cartridge. He managed to get into the next building and made his way up a narrow flight of staires and got into a small toilet cubicle that looked out into the baddies lair opposite with the megaphone. Manoeuvering the gun so the end just poked out the window he fired the thing and he and his mate shot back with the recoil and all you heard was a baddies voice slowing down (record) like in the old movies and the entire electronic set up they had was reduced to scrap. He then quietly went on his way. Tough times and a lot of courageous things went untold. 

 Bob Toal hailed from Coatbridge,Lanarkshire and had worked for the Avery Weighing Machine Compnay and also the Glasgow Tramways Corporation.National Service took him into the Cameronians from which he was Commissioned into The Royal Scots and seconded for duty with the Ghana Army with which he served on UN Peacekeeping Duties in the Congo.On retirement he held a unique combination of medals,Colonial Police Meritorious Medal,Colonial Police Long Service Medal and two medals for his UN service.



Ray, I am Frank Murphy but I was never a Scot  -  a Lancashire Lad be I!

Nice to see you're still with us.I had you tagged with the dark haired scot that was with you and Mr. Toal.  how about some pict.s and stories before we all go to the PTS in the sky. I'm told john noble died but anyone else I dont know. Good luck and love to all. Ray