CopsOntheFiringLineSometimes I wonder how any city can keep cops on the streets, considering how cops have become the bad guys in a society bordering on chaos. Why, I ask friends still wearing the badge, would you want to be a cop? No matter what a cop does, he’s going to be attacked and second-judged for simply enforcing the law. He may even be charged with unwarranted crimes.

I first became a cop with the Miami, Florida, Police Department. I graduated from the Police Academy and took to the streets with my big gun and badge. I sincerely believed my calling was a noble one—to serve and protect and uphold the law. I believed in black-and-white concepts of good and evil. There were no gray areas. It was easy to tell the good guys from the bad guys. We were the good guys commissioned to protect good people from bad guys.

It wasn’t to be that simple.

“It’s a war going on in them mean streets,” a black cop named Vic Butler said. “The war will kill you too if you don’t watch out.”

Four of my policemen friends were eventually gunned down; three of them died. One was Vic Butler, who had fought the “war” for nearly twenty years. He was ambushed in Miami’s Liberty City and his body riddled with gunfire.

Crime to the street cop is not some faceless and formless entity, as it is to much of the rest of society. Crime is real; criminals are real—and they are not victims of society. They victimize society.

Civilization for a cop can lose all meaning. I developed a “cop’s thick skin” to ward off the crimes, tragedies, and foibles of mankind. A cop is a soldier constantly on the front lines.

Dark alleys, even darker warehouses where armed burglars wait to shoot. High-speed car chases. Being shot at, stabbed with a butcher knife. Times I was carted off to the hospital for various wounds and injuries.

Kids hung by ropes, scalded to death in bathtubs, beaten with clothes hangers, ingested with heroin by junkie parents, little tongues ripped out and genitals cut off.

Stiffs dead in airtight rented rooms in August. A pimp who shot at me sentenced to only six months’ probation, because, as the judge said, “he didn’t actually hit you.” A store attendant robbed and coldly executed by an ex-con with six prior felony convictism. Drugs and pimps and thieves and liars and gangs and whores and… On and on…

And always the sensitive and compassionate advocates of “social justice” based not on what crimes a criminal committed but on his claim to victimhood of one sort or another

Ho, ho, ho, what do we want?

Dead Cops!

How do you want ’em?

Wrap ’em in bacon and fry ’em in the oven.

“Why the hell do we do this?” Cops sometimes ask each other.

Maybe it’s because there is a war against civilization going on in the streets and somebody had better fight it before society collapses.

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