The Naked Mountie: The Naked Mountie

By David A. Kift

N/A

no book description

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479728909

Book preview

Joining

In the spring of 1977 I graduated from Eastdale high school in the city of Oshawa, Ontario; a city located 40 kilometers east of Toronto. I was raised in a middle class neighborhood with two brothers and a sister. As a youngster I had a vision of being a policeman as many of my father’s friends were. A close friend of the family, John Wilson, was the Corporal in charge of the Calendar Detachment of the Ontario Provincial Police. We used to go to visit his family often. One Easter while visiting, there was a shortage of beds in his home, which was attached to the Police station. This resulted in my brother John and me sleeping in one of the jail cells. John Wilson’s son Ray was the first of my friends to join the Force. Ray became my mentor and at that point I became determined to join the Federal Police Force of Canada.

I applied to join the force in the city of Oshawa as they had a detachment located in the city hall. After applying, it took about two years to complete the examinations and obtain an opening in Regina Saskatchewan. This is where the training academy for the R.C.M.P is located. I was sworn into the force on the 28th of December, 1978 at the Royal Canadian Mounted Police Headquarters office in Toronto, Ontario. The recruiting Constable provided me with an allowance to travel to Regina, Saskatchewan, and away I went. After a few days of traveling through foul weather I finally arrived in Regina. The weather was terrible as I drove into the Parade Square at Depot. I observed a recruit running across the Parade Square with his fur hat pulled over his head and the snow blowing violently. I rolled the window down and asked where I should report in. The recruit, whom I later befriended, was named Peter Draper. Peter pointed to the guardhouse and told me to turn around and get the hell out while I could. I proceeded to the guardhouse where a commissioner gave me a blanket, sheet and a pillow. He directed me to one of the large buildings, called a dormitory.

Barracks

The barracks at the RCMP training academy consist of three stories. C and D blocks are L shaped with six dormitories in each building. A single dormitory has sixteen beds on each side, and each section has an area between two beds called a pit. You shared this area with another recruit. The area has a built-in desk with drawers and a security locker. The beds consisted of a single mattress on a metal frame. You are issued two sets of linen and one blanket. Each day when you rise at about 6 am.

All the beds had to be prepared in the same manner. The inspecting officer looked down the line of sheets; every bed sheet had to be lined up. The sheets had to be ironed with a grey black blanket on top, rolled down, and pulled tight so it did not show any wrinkles. This could be performed with a coat hanger. Your Sam Brown (otherwise known as a holster) had to be stripped and laid in a specific order on the bed in a mirror image to your pit partners. Your drawers were only allowed to contain issue clothing, which had to be too rolled in a specific way. The closet had to contain issue clothing on the right with hangers turned in and civilian clothing on the left with hangers turned out. Your hats were to be positioned on the top shelf in a specific manner. Your security locker had to be locked at all times. This is where you stored your service revolver and valuables. A key was issued and you wore it around your neck at all times. It was worth your life if you lost it.

Each and every day the pit area was to be vacuumed and your area, along with the washrooms, were inspected by the Corps Sergeant Major. You had to stand at attention for inspection at 7:00 a.m. Monday to Friday. Each Troop would collect a donation upon arrival and we would rent a television to put in a small room. This room would also serve as the ironing and polishing room.

Drill

When we first arrived in Regina, Saskatchewan for training, we soon learned to fear the Drill Instructor. These men were the most disciplined instructors we were most likely to encounter during our six-month tour of Depot Division.

They were people who represented the uniform well, with a good physique, usually a clean cut and waxed moustache, and when they spoke it sent shivers down your spine.

The Non-Commissioned Officer in charge of the section was Sergeant Shawn Rich. He was God’s representative; he thrived on discipline and represented the force immaculately. He was also a seasoned instructor who previously conducted two three-year tours as a Corporal and as a Constable drill instructor.

In Depot they arranged your training schedule so that you would have a physical course followed by an academic course. This would involve showering after your physical, marching together to your academic course in another building and being on time. It took about six weeks to get your marching orders which could be identified by you being in uniform till then you had to run everywhere.

The first day we had drill we were late. I think it was arranged it this way. We ran to the drill hall in what was attempted as a troop formation and were met by the one and only Sergeant S. Rich. How could we be so lucky? He was on the front steps of this massive drill hall yelling in a deep rough voice calling us every foul word one could imagine. We went into the drill hall and lined up with him hot on our tracks. The man looked sharp. His uniform was flawless, and you could see yourself in his boots. One morning Sergeant Rich walked down the first of two rows of our troop, inspecting the troops. When he stopped in front of a fellow recruit by the name of Dave Quack Rich had a clipboard under one arm and a walking staff under the other.

He looked at Quack and said to him, Where are you from? Quack replies, Vancouver, Corporal. When Rich finished with him after calling him a Corporal, not Sergeant, I felt sorry for Quack. Rich then says, I don’t mean Vancouver. I mean where you from are? Quack replies, My parents are from Taiwan. Lewis threw his clipboard across the drill hall, turned around and said, Now, we’re sending Mounties out with ‘Made in Taiwan’ on them?

As time went on, he rode several of us. One day Rich told us to touch all four walls of the large drill hall. At his command we would have to run and touch all four drill hall walls and get back into the same formation. God help you if you were the last to shuffle into place. Quack was running as fast as he could and when he looked up there was the wall. He went through the drywall leaving a big hole. Boy was Rich pissed off.

If you screwed up, Rich would have you put Mickey Mouse ears on your head and stand in a polished garbage can meeting the tourists, telling each one that came in you were an asshole. When we graduated we were, in my opinion, one of the most disciplined troops that ever graduated.

Graduation

On July 3, 1979 I graduated from the Royal