Police Firing Range Aims to Reflect Danger of Real World

Larry Nichols trains Burbank police officers to shoot better. When he sees an officer standing straight up, firing at a still paper target, he gets annoyed. “Nothing’s moving, everything’s still and perfect--it’s just not realistic,” he snorts.

Instead, Nichols studies recent police shootings from across the country and re-creates them with mailboxes, light poles or bowling pins he has hoarded. He then makes the 200 officers he trains duck behind and roll under the props to shoot at spinning, swinging targets. And firing while standing straight up? Nichols sometimes makes them shoot between their legs.

Reality-based training has been used for the last two decades. Its use has been growing rapidly in the last five to 10 years as law enforcement agencies such as the Los Angeles Police Department and the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department have expanded their training facilities and technology has advanced, officials say.

Vietnam veteran Nichols has been especially instrumental in improving training tactics by introducing innovative targets and stressing a hands-on teaching approach, firearms instructors say.

“Everyone started off on paper targets, but if you’re lucky you run into someone like Larry who shows you that targets that don’t move and don’t talk and don’t engage you aren’t going to help a trained officer,” said Dave Manning, a range master for the Santa Paula Police Department who comes to Burbank to get tips from Nichols several times a month.

When Nichols joined the Marines in the mid-1960s, he underwent traditional training: shooting at a paper target while standing, which is one of the easiest poses to shoot from. Nichols sensed something was wrong.

“Us standing there and not having to take cover didn’t make a lot of sense,” he said.

And when he actually saw combat in Vietnam his suspicions were confirmed. “Not too many people were standing in the open. We were looking for cover,” the trim 56-year-old said dryly.

The lessons Nichols learned in Vietnam have stayed with him. “I saw what a bullet can do to a body,” he said, his normally emphatic voice slowing down a beat. “I’m not going to send officers out there without them being well trained. I won’t do them that disservice.”

To Nichols, well-trained means being prepared for “what they could actually see out there.”

Officers with the Burbank, Glendale College and Burbank Airport police departments must qualify with Nichols, a civilian employee, once a month at an outdoor shooting range the size of a baseball diamond in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains.

Almost all qualifying sessions begin in a car “because that’s where they spend about 90% of their time,” Nichols said.

Officers might huff and puff a bit because Nichols sometimes makes them run up a hill to simulate stressful situations. They often carry blocks of wood shaped like ticket books because “they usually don’t come out of the car with a gun in their hands,” Nichols said.

Then they navigate a simulated urban setting, constructed from Nichols’ props. When the shooting actually begins, there are myriad targets and weird shooting positions they might have to face.

Then there’s the target that rotates when it’s hit. Before passing the course, officers must keep the target spinning for a set amount of time. “I hate that darn spinning thing,” said Burbank Police Chief Thomas Hoefel.

Nobody seems to have forgotten they had to shoot between their legs. “Probably weirdest thing I’ve had to do,” said Officer Adam Adler.

Sometimes Nichols makes officers hit bowling pins. “Very challenging. Very, very challenging,” Sgt. Eric Rosoff said diplomatically.

Basing Ideas on Recent Situations

Though Nichols’ tactics seem unlikely, they are designed to simulate real-life situations. The spinning target tests officers’ depth perception and anticipation; firing through their legs simulates shooting upside down, as if they were pinned under a car or bench; and bowling pins are shaped like humans, “just smaller,” Nichols said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Many of Nichols’ courses are based on recent situations. He and some volunteers even built a 2,000-square-foot house in 1999 to stage indoor situations.

Nichols would not discuss the specifics of the LAPD shooting of actor Anthony Dwain Lee in Benedict Canyon, he said, because “You can’t train someone to tell a toy gun from a real gun.” But he said he is already planning a course based on the incident.

Experts say the techniques, as common-sense as they might seem, have had a profound effect.

“There’s a big difference between shooting at a static target and a moving one . . . Static targets just do not give officers the same standards,” said Bob Bossey, executive director of the 6,000-member International Assn. of the Law Enforcement Firearm Instructors.

Other Southern California law enforcement agencies use similar tactics. The LAPD provides officers with high-speed chase training, as well as “situation simulation” courses, based on the officers’ assignments, several times a year, said Officer Lyle Michelson. County sheriff’s deputies train with reality-based programs every two years, said Sgt. Steve Van Herpe.

Perhaps the most important part of Nichols’ training regimen is his mere presence. Although he rarely raises his voice--”you know that ain’t hardly the way to do that” is about as animated as he gets--he walks through the course with each officer.

In an October course, officers had to shoot at targets while hiding behind a police cruiser and several mailboxes. Nichols was careful to lead officers behind each item of cover.

Tests show that officers under stress revert to their training. “That’s why I don’t tell them not to walk in front of the car, I lead them around back so they have cover. And in a gunfight, that’s what they’ll do,” Nichols said. “At the very least, I’m going to teach them how to hide.”

Although officers sometimes grumble at the courses, most appear to appreciate the training. “I’ve had to shoot until my fingers bled, but what he taught me was invaluable,” said Adler, who joined the Burbank Police Department earlier this year, as he cleaned his gun after qualifying.

Van Herpe said police forces like Burbank’s are potentially “ahead of the learning curve” because of their smaller numbers. While Nichols trains about 200 officers a year, there are more than 8,000 sheriff deputies and “we can’t walk around our course with them; there are too many,” he said.

Nichols realizes that his training techniques go only so far. “It’s almost like sending a kid off to school. You do all you can for them, but stuff happens in a blink of an eye,” he said.

As Adler holstered his newly cleaned handgun and walked back to his car, Nichols nodded at him and dug his hands a little further into his jacket.

“You be careful out there,” he called out.