No Easy Ride: Reflections on My Life in the RCMP Read Free Page A

two policemen moved back into the bush and waited for the men to appear. Soon a man wearing overalls, a smock and a cap came out of the house and walked toward them. When he neared, my father leapt out, levelled his .45 Colt revolver at the stranger and commanded, “Freeze!” For an instant, the stranger stared at the policeman in astonishment. Then, wheeling about to cry in alarm, he ran for the house. He had not gone far when my father overtook him, threw him to the ground and handcuffed him. The man struggled and tried to warn his partners, so my father knocked him unconscious to quiet him. He then turned his prisoner over to Hayes and told him to take the man into the bush while he faced the other two gunmen alone. The other two had heard the disturbance and dashed from the dwelling in the direction of the horses. They gasped in surprise when they spotted my father, who again shouted, “Freeze!” The men drew revolvers and a volley of shots was exchanged before the pair rushed into the heavy brush in different directions. It was later determined that one of them had been severely wounded by my father’s return fire.
    Soon all the searchers converged on the scene and began to scour the surrounding bush, while the captured man was interrogated. Finally breaking down, he identified himself as Mike Kuralak and gave a full confession about his part in the robberies and murder of Corporal Ralls. He implicated his brother, Bill, and a man named Bill Miller, who had just been released from prison. Miller was the leader and apparently the one who had murdered Corporal Ralls.
    Police were closing in on the remaining fugitives and discovered early the following morning that one of them had gone to ground at another farm home. They surrounded the house and then entered to find Bill Kuralak asleep, fully clothed and with a loaded revolver under his pillow. When police found Miller later that morning, he was riding on a wagon and disguised as a teamster. When he realized he’d been discovered, he leapt from the wagon and fled into the bush. As a cordon of police closed in on him, a shot was heard. When they found his body, there was a self-inflicted bullet wound in his right temple. Further examination revealed a smashed bone above the ankle of his right leg and a gaping wound in his abdomen, believed to be from the gunfight with my father. Investigators were astounded at Miller’s stamina, given the severity of his injuries.
    The work of the RCMP was just beginning, as they had to prepare for the trial of the Kuralaks. Thanks to some excellent forensic work, the weapons carried by the three accused were directly linked to the death of Corporal Ralls. During the trial, my father was vigorously cross-examined. Defence counsel suggested that he had brutalized his prisoner by knocking him unconscious during the arrest; however, the court concluded that he had only used as much force as was reasonably necessary, as Mike Kuralak had to be prevented from warning his partners. Bill Kuralak, the clean-cut, 23-year-old gunman, was found guilty and sentenced to be hanged in Regina on December 29, 1932. His 17-year-old brother, Mike, was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to 15 years in Prince Albert Penitentiary.
    My father’s heroic actions earned him much attention and eventual early promotion. He remained in Kelvington, and it was not long before he distinguished himself in several other high-profile cases. He received his first detachment command at Kamsack, Saskatchewan. In the meantime he met an attractive red-headed nurse named Mary Violet Patricia McNamee, and—after a lengthy courtship while awaiting permission from the Force to marry—they were wed in 1937. I was born in Kamsack in 1940, and my sister JoAnne arrived two years later. (My youngest sister, Shari, came along 16 years later.) Dad became the detachment commander at Pelly, Saskatchewan, and moved to Yorkton in 1944 for a promotion to sergeant. By 1950 he had 20