Chapter 106: The Police Training Class

Liu Xiang briefly explained the current shortage of police force in Guangzhou and also talked about the recently completed recruitment plan.

Pan Jiexin nodded. “A shortage of police force is inevitable. But recruiting a thousand police officers at once puts a lot of pressure on training.”

Liu Xiang said, “We have no other choice. Without police, many of our measures cannot be implemented. Right now, just maintaining public order in the urban area takes a lot of effort, and we are completely relying on the National Army to keep things under control.”

The National Army would soon be deployed in the public security and rectification operations in the four surrounding townships and could not be kept in the city indefinitely as a security force. After all, ensuring the security of the four townships was also an important task.

The security in the four townships was currently in chaos. Even in the city, there were rumors that bandits were active not far from the more remote North Gate. The water bandits on the Pearl River were extremely rampant. The Coast Guard patrol boats could only guarantee the security of the Pearl River from the White Goose Pond down to Hong Kong. The lower reaches of the West River from Sanshui to Jiangmen, a little further away, could not be guaranteed to be safe.

“I roughly understand,” Pan Jiexin said. “But since we have to put a thousand people on duty at once and time is tight, we can only adopt a crash course training. I think it has to be compressed to thirty days. Have the venue and logistics been arranged?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Liu Xiang said. “Except for some things that need to be transferred from Lin’gao, we have prepared everything else.” He added, “As long as it’s related to police work, we guarantee a green light all the way.”

To train police officers, a venue was needed first. In ancient times, there were very few public buildings that could accommodate a large number of people, mostly various temples and government offices. Liu Xiang chose the Wanshou Palace in Guangzhou.

Wanshou Palace was originally a Taoist temple, but most of them enshrined the “ten-thousand-year tablet” (longevity tablet) of the reigning emperor. On the emperor’s birthday, the so-called Wanshou Festival, all the officials of the city would gather here to hold a congratulatory ceremony. If an emperor died, a memorial would be set up here for mourning. At other times, it was used as a place to receive imperial edicts.

“This palace is very large and can accommodate the trainees without any problem,” Liu Xiang said. “I used the excuse that it contained the tablet of the Ming emperor and designated it as ‘enemy property’ and confiscated it. This palace has been allocated to you. Workers are currently renovating the facilities—but the conditions are very simple, and there is a lack of training facilities.”

“The current recruits are all patrol officers, so the skill requirements are not high. The training can also be simplified. It’s just that the old habits of these city dwellers need to be changed.” Pan Jiexin had been in charge of police education and training in Lin’gao for several years and seemed very confident. “You just need to borrow a few dozen non-commissioned officers from the Fubo Army or the National Army.”

A new white sign with black Song-style characters now hung in front of Wanshou Palace: “People’s Security Province, Guangzhou Special Municipality, National Police Academy.” Two police officers in black uniforms, holding long batons, also stood at the entrance.

Li Ziyu walked up the steps timidly. He had been here a few times before. His uncle used to bring him here every year to kowtow to the longevity tablet. Of course, it wasn’t their turn on the actual Wanshou Festival; that was a privilege reserved for high-ranking local officials. Li Ziyu was very afraid of coming here. Every time he came, he would be severely reprimanded by his uncle for any slight flaw in his dress or demeanor.

In his hand, he held an “admission notice.” Li Ziyu had passed the second review smoothly: his parents and family were all in Guangzhou, and he could read and write.

After having his notice checked at the entrance, Li Ziyu entered the school gate. He saw that the decorative patterns on the screen wall in front had been scraped off and smoothed over. A shield-shaped emblem was carved on it. Li Ziyu only recognized the two Chinese characters on it: “Police.”

Below the emblem were several lines of large, calligraphic characters carved in relief: “Loyal to the Senate, Loyal to the State, Loyal to the People, Loyal to the Law.” The signature below was “Wen Desi“—Li Ziyu knew this person, the famous “Premier Wen,” who was now the military governor of Guangdong, a very high-ranking official.

In front of the screen wall, there were two rows of tables. Behind them sat some police officers in black uniforms. A sign next to them read: “Registration.” A line of people was queuing in front of the tables.

“In order, one by one, line up!” someone was maintaining order. Li Ziyu already knew that the Australians attached great importance to queuing and quickly got to the back of the line.

After a series of procedures: filling out forms, leaving fingerprints, and then “purification,” by the time he came out of the bathhouse, the once somewhat scholarly and elegant Li Ziyu had become a new recruit in a black uniform with a shaved head.

Putting on this uniform for the first time, Li Ziyu felt uncomfortable all over. The clothes were too tight for someone used to wide sleeves and long robes, the trousers also felt tight, the shoes were alright, but the one-piece leggings wrapped around his calves were uncomfortably tight.

“Take your things and go to the dormitory according to your number!” the non-commissioned officers transferred from the National Army shouted, holding bamboo sticks. “One after another! No talking!”

Li Ziyu never expected that the Australians’ “constables” would be “under military law.” He couldn’t help but complain bitterly, but since he had come, there was no turning back. Under the shouts and “guidance” of the non-commissioned officers’ batons, he successfully found his dormitory bed.

“Now, start tidying up your personal effects! Gather in the auditorium in one hour!”

Li Ziyu looked at the dormitory. It was probably a former temple hall. Now it was empty, looking tall and spacious. Along the walls were rows of bunk beds, at least twenty of them.

He had never lived in such a place before, let alone slept in the same room with over forty people—and on bunk beds!

He looked at his bed number; it was “lower.” This made him heave a sigh of relief. If he had to climb to the top bunk, he would have been at a loss.

In a small courtyard several courtyards away from the trainees’ dormitory, Pan Jiexin was holding a copy of “Basic Theory of Public Security” and thinking about tomorrow’s lesson.

This was not the first time he had taught trainees, but this police training class was a super crash course. Neither Liu Xiang nor Mu Min could wait for the training to be completed according to the “Police Entry Training Outline” he had previously formulated. According to this outline, the short-term training class trainees would study for 60 days, plus half a month of on-the-job internship.

Now he could only compress the time to 30 days, with theory and practice being taught simultaneously. After much thought, Pan Jiexin decided to only train according to the minimum standards, with the content focusing on public security management training, strengthening practical training, and instilling a sense of discipline.

The training plan he formulated was to conduct police skills, physical fitness, and drill training on the small training ground in the morning, theoretical study in the afternoon, and political study and cultural remedial classes in the evening. The final assessment would be divided into a theoretical examination, a skills assessment, and a physical fitness test.

Since the proportion of illiterates among the trainees was not small, Pan Jiexin decided to divide them into two categories. For the literate trainees, more theoretical lectures would be arranged to cultivate them as future cadres. For the illiterate, the focus would be on cultural remedial classes.

Early the next morning, a brief opening ceremony was held in the main hall of Wanshou Palace—now the auditorium. Both Liu Xiang and Mu Min attended. Liu Xiang was giving a speech. Pan Jiexin sat on the stage, looking at the crooked lines below, and couldn’t help but smile wryly. In terms of basic quality, there was an absolute polarization. The side with the transferred soldiers was disciplined, while the other side, the so-called “social recruits,” was a motley crew. A few in the back were talking.

Mu Min smiled wryly and whispered, “It seems we really need to instill a sense of discipline.”

“It’s alright. The drill training is scheduled for later. It will last for about two weeks. Let them experience what drill discipline is,” Pan Jiexin muttered.

“Now, please welcome the National Police Regional Commander, the Principal of the Guangzhou Special Municipality National Police Academy, Pan Jiexin, to speak!”

First, there was a neat round of applause, followed by a scattered round of applause.

Pan Jiexin adjusted his belt, stood up, and walked to the microphone.

“Comrades! Welcome to the Guangzhou Special Municipality Police Academy, to become a glorious National Police trainee. I am Principal Pan Jiexin.” He then gave a crisp salute.

“From today on, you are a member of the National Police. Although you are only trainees now and have not been formally awarded the police badge, I look forward to you proving yourselves worthy of this glorious title through study and trial!”

His voice was stern, and the originally somewhat slouching trainees couldn’t help but stand up straight.

Pan Jiexin’s tone softened slightly. “The word ‘police’ is very unfamiliar to everyone. Because in the past Ming government, there were only the so-called constables and bailiffs. Indeed, they also undertook some of the work of the police. But they cannot be considered police. Why? Because in the places under the rule of our Senate, the police are to eliminate violence and protect the good, punish criminals, and ensure the stability and order of society, so that the common people can work, do business, and live their lives in peace. This is the work of our police, and it is the greatest value of our existence. What were the constables and bailiffs of the old government doing? They were mostly harming the people!

“Indeed, to some extent, they also played the role of ‘protecting one region.’ But their so-called protection of one region was at the expense of the people’s interests to fatten themselves. Many bailiffs themselves committed crimes and harmed the people. They were obsequious to the gentry and wealthy households, but they fabricated charges to intimidate and extort from the common people. In the face of bandits and robbers, they either fled at the sight of them or colluded with them to share the spoils. They were just a group of evil villains who helped the tiger do evil and bullied the good. I think you have all seen such things.” Pan Jiexin paused, looked at the reaction below, and continued, “But under the rule of our Senate, there are no such corrupt officials. When the people are bullied, encounter bandits, and are in danger, it is the police who step forward. From another perspective, we are the knights-errant who uphold justice, relying on our own abilities, conveying the law, and conveying the voice of the Senate and the people.”