Features
Unsung heroes
The people of Galle are proud of a duo, a father and a son, who served the Police with distinction. Edwin Goonetilleke was Chief Inspector in charge of the Colombo Pettah Police station during the 1915 riots, at the height of the British Raj with the ‘shoot at sight’ order in force, under martial law. With five sub-Inspectors and 850 policemen under him, he was one of the original indigenous officers. In 1925, he had to retire prematurely at the age of 42, due to an accident at a gambling den in Horana.
Like his father, Tyrrel Goonatilleke joined the police as an Inspector and retired as the Deputy Inspector General Criminal Investigation Department, having served the police with distinction for 41 years. He was involved in the investigation of many celebrated cases in Sri Lanka, which included the Bandaranaike assassination case and the coup d’etat in 1962. In 1976, He was awarded the Sri Lanka Police medal for Merit. Many encomia came his way, as an honest and efficient officer who never used brute force in his investigations. His reputation in the country was unblemished. (Tyrrel was a friend of Ruhunu Puthra!)
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During the 1971 insurrection, a popular inspector of Police, Inspector Thomas, was killed by a JVP sniper’s bullet, which hit him on his forehead. Ordinary folk mourned his death. They said that he was a really good-hearted inspector who never harassed people or took bribes and who was above board, adding that only the criminals feared him.
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T. B. Werapitiya captained the Trinity College cricket team and later the university team and still later was selected as a member of the record-breaking All Ceylon team captained by Bertram Russell Heyn that toured South India in 1947. At the time he was teaching at Mahinda College and when the news broke that he had been selected, we, as Mahindians, were proud! Later, he gave up teaching to join the police, retiring as a DIG. In 1977, he was returned to the Patha Dumbara seat in Parliament with a majority of 10,497 votes and appointed as the Minister of Internal Security. At the time the intrepid DIG was a living legend in the police force.
When he was the Director, Police Training School, applications were called for several vacancies in the police for Sub-Inspectors. Many young men applied and those eligible were called for interviews. One of the youngsters failed the physical test because he was half-an-inch short of the required height. This young man was from a politically powerful family and the next day he brought a letter from no less a person than the Prime Minister himself, asking Sydney de Zoysa to reconsider his decision. Without a word Sydney went to the place where applicants’ height was measured, placed the PM’s letter on the ground, and asked the young man who had brought it to stand on the letter. “Sorry, my friend,” said Sydney when the young man had done as he was bid, “you are still half an inch too short. Now, get the hell out of here.”
Robert Marrs, the Principal of the University College, had given him an appropriate two liner testimonial thus:
“With him trouble,
Without him more trouble,
No doubt he was aptly named
‘No-Nonsense Sydney’.”
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One of the contractors who received the form, telephoned the DIG (Logistics) H. N. G. B. Kotakadeniya and asked: “Sir, I have just received your letter and the form, but I would like a clarification from you as I feel that you have made a mistake in the number of toilets indicated in your letter. In it you have mentioned 1,800 toilets. Sir, why does the Pope need 1,800 toilets? He is going to stay here for only 24 hours!
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On the last day, before a High Court judge’s retirement, he thanked all those who had helped him to mete out justice, adding that he would never forget the smart salute of his Court Sergeant.
Speaking of Court Sergeants, a maintenance case was being heard by a young Magistrate, a man of charming manner. The petitioner was an attractive village woman, and she testified from the witness-box. The learned Magistrate began questioning her to clarify certain matters, and the woman completely carried away by the young nadukara hamuduruwo’s friendly and gentle manner, began indulging in a pleasant chit-chat with him. Those at the Bar Table sniggered audibly, and loud titters went round the court. The Court Sergeant, a strict disciplinarian, could stand it no longer. He jumped to his feet, and in a stentorian voice shouted: “Silence in Court!” Then approaching the Bench he told the Magistrate in a severe tone: “Sir, this may be a maintenance case but the maintenance of the dignity of this court is more important.”
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“A young man from Galle got married to a girl from Kelaniya, and several of his friends from his hometown travelled to Kelaniya for the wedding. Lunch time was fast approaching but there was no sign of ‘appetizers’ being served. So, the bridegroom’s party explored the possibility of having a drink outside, and were informed by a waiter that there was a ‘joint’ selling illicit liquor nearby.
The wedding guests, in their posh lounge suits and ties, were enjoying their drink at this illicit joint, when a police party led by a young Sub-Inspector, swooped down on the place. For a moment the SI thought he had raided the wrong place, when he saw this fashionably dressed crowd. But finding it was the right place, after all, he told the wedding guests: “I will give you damn fools just five minutes to finish your drinks and get the hell out of this place!” It was good public police PR. This accommodating young Sub-Inspector must be quite a senior officer now, and no doubt a popular one.
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No situation is so harsh or grim that it does not have the lighter or human side. During those traumatic days of violence and curfews, an elderly taxi driver of Galle went to Colombo on a hire, and having dropped his client, he was pelting back to Galle to beat the curfew, when he was stopped by two traffic cops on a motorbike. One of them began upbraiding the driver for speeding, and pulling out his notebook, was about to take down the man’s name, address, vehicle number, etc…, when the other cop had taken a good look at the driver, he told his colleague, “Just a minute machan, put that book away.”
Then, turning to the taxi-driver, he had said in a very mild and polite tone: “Uncle, you should not drive so fast. You know, the way you were speeding, we should charge you, but we won’t Uncle. I studied at a school in Galle, a place where there was no drinking water for us students. During the school interval we would all come into ‘your premises to drink water at your well. You were the only person living in the neighbourhood who had the kindness to allow us to do so. Everybody else chased us away. I shall never forget it. So, carry on uncle, but drive carefully.”
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More than three decades ago there was this Tamil duo stationed in the South. One was an attractive young lady working at a Southern Courts Complex. She hailed from a village in Jaffna. A handsome young Sub-Inspector of Police, who by a strange coincidence, hailed from the adjoining village, was attached to a police station close to Galle. His official duties took him often to the court where the girl worked, and it wasn’t long before they met and struck up a warm friendship; everybody said that they were a perfectly matched pair, and awaited the inevitable outcome with anticipation.
The Sinhala and Tamil New Year was round the corner, and both being Hindus, the boy and girl went to their respective villages as tradition demanded, with the girl inviting the young SI to visit her home and talk things over with her widowed mother. So, soon after New Year’s Day, the young swain went to the girl’s home. The first thing the old lady asked him was what village he came from, and when he told her, the old lady’s eyes goggled with horror, for everybody in the boy’s village belonged to a certain ‘caste’. “Get out, get out,” she screeched, all but picking up the broom. Dejected and heart-broken, the young man retraced his steps. When he returned to his station in the South, he was a changed man. Gone was the fun-loving, devil-may-care youth everybody knew and loved. Instead, here was this brooding, uncommunicative, melancholic recluse.
The late Neil de Alwis was MP for Baddegama at this time, and he knew this police officer, and like everybody else, had the greatest affection for him. When he heard about the change in the SI, he promptly went to see him, and had an intimate chat with him. No doubt confirmed bachelor Neil must have shown the young officer the tremendous advantages of bachelorhood (which we too realise, alas, too late!) for the young man cast off his melancholy and once again become the happy youth everybody knew.
Unable to stand the pain of seeing him and knowing she could never be his, the girl applied for a transfer to a distant town. At the farewell party given her by her colleagues, she broke down and sobbed that the moment he left her home in Jaffna, that fateful day, her mother had washed the floor of the entire house and sprinkled turmeric water all over to get rid of the ‘pollution’ caused by the man entering it.
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The driver and the conductor of the Deniyaya bound CTB bus from Galle were all out to earn easy money. They had five or six parcels of two bottles of arrack each, which were kept under the seats in advance, giving the impression that they belonged to the passengers. The duo would then drop these parcels at several pre-arranged places along the way. A smart Inspector of Police, one day stopped this bus and asked the passengers to get off with their belongings. The Police then found these parcels and took necessary action.