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Astonishing bravery from police to fight the national menace that is meth

Brendan Foster
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When I was asked if I wanted to go for a 'ride-a-long' with police it conjured up images of listening to Cold Chisel, some odd banter about how to best put a buffalo in a headlock and why the psychotic warden in The Shawshank Redemption is misunderstood.

But this was a serious coordinated operation targeting drug dealers in Perth's southern suburbs that took months to organise. It was meticulously planned and I was one of a handful of journalists invited to go along.

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Police target drug dealers in Perth's south

More than 30 officers were involved in coordinated raids on four homes on Wednesday morning.

The police were in an ongoing battle to tackle the ice scourge which was once declared by former Prime Minister Tony Abbott as a "national menace".

When I arrived in a car park behind a shopping centre in Beeliar, I suddenly found myself surrounded by the elite of the police force.

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There were 30-odd officers trained in the art of deception, intimidation and manipulation and my dishevelled appearance made me look like Charles Manson with a man bun.

I felt like the drug-crazed Raoul Duke and his attorney, Dr Gonzo, when the pair stumbled into the National District Attorneys Association's Conference on Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs in Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

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I instantly felt guilty and had visions of officers doing combat drills with dummies that looked exactly like me.

At any moment my presence was going to unlock some subconscious training in an officer and I was going to spend the next thirty years drinking my meals through a straw.  

In my eagerness not to attract too much attention, I bounded up to the nearest policemen with unapologetic gusto.

Instead, I sort of skipped like a bawdy, tawdry comic trying to impersonate John Cleese.

But the officer was pleasant and welcoming.

Prior to the raids I was expecting a rousing Henry V-type speech before the battle of Agincourt.

There were no pre-game nerves.  The officers, most of them who look like they could play in the front row for the Wallabies, stood around sipping coffee and laughing as if waiting to watch a kids' soccer match.

There was no room for unpredictability - these officers were elite, trained professionals.

When we pulled up near the first home in Beeliar it struck me if you were going to 'hide' in the suburbs the bland monotony that characterised this place was the perfect camouflage.

Then without warning, it began.

Armed with crow bars, hammers and a battering ram that resembled the gun turret of a German panzer tank, the officers attacked the door like warriors charging the enemy.

Despite a brief moment when the eight or so officers looked like they were taking turns trying to solve a Rubik's cube, the door was finally obliterated.  

There was no eruption of violence as the officers burst into the house with a level of hectic urgency I have never before witnessed.

Then it was over. The officers calmly sauntered out of the home grinning and smiling.

No one was dragged out in handcuffs, but the house was occupied.

I couldn't decipher if officers were breathing a sigh of relief, because just moments earlier there was the real prospect of running into someone with a knife, weapon or, worse still, a gun.

In reality, I had just witnessed an instance of astonishing bravery and without sounding dramatic, self-sacrifice to fight the national menace that is meth.

Compared to the adrenaline-pumping, chaotic moments just before, what follows is banal and sadly forgettable as police go about their work slowly and meticulously.

I'm left wanting more but the officers seemed detached and unemotional. For many of them it's just another day on the job.

We all load into the car and head to the next home. I for one am relieved, as the sniffer dog kept drooling at me every time he got a glimpse of me from inside his cage.

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