PART-TIME OFFICERS BUY MACHINE GUNS TO FORM SMALL-TOWN SWAT TEAM

BUTLER, Mo. -- Perhaps it's the courthouse square, with its cobblestone
streets and old-fashioned storefronts, that makes this western Missouri
town seem so hospitable.

Maybe it's the shrieks of children chasing each other on their bicycles on
a sun-splashed afternoon in early autumn. Or maybe it's the way strangers
call out, telling you not to use the pay phone that will take your money.
Use the one at the laundry, they tell you.

In those and a dozen other ways, this community 65 miles south of Kansas
City, with its single traffic light, seems a remnant of a simpler time. You
half expect to see Sheriff Andy Taylor, Opie and Aunt Bee coming out of the
Farm Bureau office.

In the fictional town of Mayberry, however, the deputy sheriff was limited
to one bullet. In the real-life town of Butler, four part-time deputies
decided they needed machine guns.

The four men -- a 72-year-old doctor, a nurse and two ambulance workers --
harbored dreams of setting up their own SWAT team to respond to emergencies
throughout Bates County.

They used their own money to buy eight fully automatic weapons -- four MP5
submachine guns and four M-16 rifles -- and a dozen 30-round ammunition clips.

The catch was that federal law prohibits the private ownership of the
machine guns and new ammo clips with more than 10 rounds. But police
agencies can own them. So the four men, with the acquiescence of the former
Butler police chief, told gun dealers that the weapons were being purchased
by the Butler Police Department -- even though only one of the four was
properly commissioned to be a part-time Butler police officer.

When a new police chief with a background on a real-life SWAT team recently
stumbled across the machine guns in his midst, the discovery touched off a
debate that has split this community of 4,209.

It is a debate about the way things often get done in small towns, about
the training of rural police officers and about a local police department
that stretched the rules to let four buddies carry military-style weaponry.

On one side of the dispute are the four part-time deputies, the sheriff and
much of the public -- who praise the good intentions of the four men.

On the other side are Butler city officials, who worry that placing
automatic weapons in the hands of part-time officers with minimal training
is courting disaster.

"If you have a SWAT team, you want a highly trained group, not part-time
'hobby cops,' " Butler Mayor Joe Fuller said. "These guys are just thrill
seekers."

The part-time deputies dispute that characterization, saying the machine
guns are simply tools to help them protect their community. But the
question they struggle to answer is this: Why would police need such
firepower in a peaceful community, where the police chief says crime
typically involves bicycle thefts, drunken driving or domestic disputes? To
Bill Haynie, 72, a family physician who bought two of the machine guns, the
answer is simple: You never know when you might need it.

That thought is echoed by his three partners -- Kelly Phillips, 41, a
paramedic who oversees emergency services at Bates County Memorial
Hospital; Brad McGuire, 36, a nurse at a Kansas City hospital; and Doug
McGuire, 29, Brad's brother, who is a paramedic for the Belton Fire Department.

Police, they said, should always have more firepower than criminals.

"The stereotype of, 'It won't happen here because this is a nice, small
town,' is what gets officers killed," Brad McGuire said.

Haynie said the need for a local SWAT team armed with automatic weapons
became obvious after the string of school shootings throughout the country
in the late 1990s.

"We're not going to sit around like they did in Colorado while kids get
shot," Haynie said. "We're going in and clear the building."

Fuller, however, said he was frightened by the idea of four machine
gun-toting, volunteer deputies storming a school to rescue hostages.

"We're talking about going into a darkened building with a gun that could
shoot 10 or 15 bullets with one pull of the trigger and can shoot through
walls or windows while other officers are around you," Fuller said. "The
Highway Patrol already has a SWAT team we can call if we need them."

Jeff Blom, a former member of the Kansas City police SWAT team who became
Butler's police chief last April, said he was shocked to learn that eight
machine guns were registered to his 10-officer department. He said he was
even more unnerved to learn that the guns were in the hands of four reserve
officers who took one course in how to use them.

"There is no reason for this department to have these. You can serve drug
warrants with pistols and shotguns," Blom said.

Several Kansas City-area police SWAT teams use fully automatic weapons. But
Missouri Highway Patrol SWAT teams rarely use them because they are
difficult to keep trained on a target as they fire, a spokesman said.
Kansas City police don't use them at all.

"We want as many rounds at the target as we need," said Capt. Jesse Holt,
who commands one of Kansas City's three SWAT teams. "But we also want to
protect the public and other officers who are around."

Blom said the four men were SWAT officers only in their own minds.

"It was a fantasy," he said.

SWAT School

The tale of the eight machine guns began in May 1999, when Phillips and the
McGuire brothers traveled to Des Moines, Iowa, to attend a 40-hour course
in basic SWAT procedures.

Several months later, Phillips and Brad McGuire approached Butler's
then-Chief Jim Henry about switching officers from shotguns to rifles.

Henry said he and Phillips then came up with a plan to start a first-entry
team with the Sheriff's Department. He said Phillips and Brad McGuire would
represent the police; Haynie and Doug McGuire would represent the Sheriff's
office.

But Henry said he never got around to telling the sheriff about his plan.
He said he decided it would be simpler to order the team's guns through the
Police Department.

In April and July 2000, Henry used police stationery to order eight machine
guns and 12 ammo clips. The letter directed all inquiries to Brad McGuire
and Phillips, who could be reached on his pager.

The letters never mentioned that Phillips needed to be reached by pager
because he worked as a police officer that year an average of four hours a
week. Brad McGuire, police records show, worked 52 hours that year.

Phillips is the only one who was properly commissioned to be a part-time
Butler police officer. Haynie was commissioned as a sheriff's deputy, but
wasn't employed by the Butler police.

Brad McGuire completed basic police training in 1994. But he could not
legally be hired as a Butler police officer for two reasons: He had not
been licensed as a peace officer and, although he grew up in Butler, he has
lived in Kansas for five years. State law prohibits out-of-state residents
from being hired by any Missouri police agency.

Doug McGuire has been on Belton's critical response team since 1999 -- as a
medic. He never completed basic law enforcement training.

The weapons arrived in September and October 2000. The men paid with three
cashiers checks totaling $8,177.

Henry and the four buyers said they registered the machine guns in the name
of the police department because federal law prohibits private ownership.
The procedure, they said, was legal because the guns were used only in
official police business. Brad McGuire said the four men kept the guns in
locked cases in the trunks of their cars.

Blom, the new police chief, said the purchase method was a ploy to skirt
federal law. He noted that Henry refused requests from three full-time
Butler police officers to carry semiautomatic rifles in their patrol cars.

"These guys were out to get toys that they couldn't get as civilians," Blom
said.

Phillips and Brad McGuire said their only interest in having machine guns
was to meet the community's potential need to respond to a crisis.

Lenexa Police Capt. Steve Smith, who teaches SWAT courses for the
International Association of Chiefs of Police, said first-entry teams need
more than four officers. A standard hostage rescue requires 12 to 16
officers, he said.

"Four guys can't do anything," he said. "You can't do a barricade situation
because you can't cover more than two sides. And serving warrants (with
four officers) is dangerous unless it's on a doghouse or a bird house."

In late 2000, Henry agreed to resign as police chief, effective March 31,
because of a falling-out with Fuller. Fuller then chose Blom over three
local candidates to be the new chief.

On March 29, two days before Henry was out as police chief, he signed four
letters drawn up by Brad McGuire. Six months after the guns had been
purchased, the letters outlined how the guns would be owned by the Police
Department in name only.

But top city officials still had no knowledge of the machine guns. Fuller
called the letters a lame attempt to make it appear the police department
was exercising control over the weapons.

Brad McGuire said other Butler police officers knew about the weapons.

"But we tried to keep it low key," Brad McGuire said. "You don't want the
bad guys to know your tactics and capabilities."

Surprise Package

The secret got out on May 3 -- Blom's second week as the new police chief
- -- when a new trigger mechanism for one of the guns arrived in the mail.
That prompted Blom to ask the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms for a
list of restricted weapons registered to his department.

The ATF reported the eight machine guns plus a silencer and a sawed-off
shotgun that a former police officer had been allowed to buy.

Fuller was outraged.

"What do the police in our little town need a silencer for?" he asked. "So
when we shoot people, we don't wake the neighbors?"

Under the guise of conducting an ATF audit, Blom confiscated the weapons.
The ATF investigated the purchases and referred the matter to the U.S.
attorney's office in Kansas City.

But prosecutors demurred, saying the four men may have thought they were
legitimate police officers. In that situation, prosecutors would have a
tough time proving the men knowingly violated gun laws.

Haynie, Phillips and the McGuire brothers have asked city officials to turn
the guns over to the Sheriff's Department, which could then return the
weapons to the four men. The City Council voted last month to turn them
over to a gun dealer so the city would no longer be liable for them. But
the ATF has not yet approved the transfer.

Fuller said he wants the machine guns out of the community and into the
hands of full-time police.

Phillips and the McGuire brothers bristle at the suggestion they are less
capable lawmen because they work part time.

The main reason they are not full time, they said, is money. The pay for
deputy sheriffs in Bates County ranges from $1,650 a month to $2,260 for
the chief deputy.

They said they train as much as possible, including last summer when they
and other police officers practiced storming the local high school to
rescue hostages.

At 72, Haynie said his age does not affect his fitness for a SWAT team. He
said he participates in the same training as younger officers and is in
better shape than many of them.

The four men point out that in October 2000, as soon as they acquired their
automatic weapons, all four enrolled in an eight-hour course: Introduction
to the MP5 Submachine Gun.

But therein lies the rub.

SWAT experts said such a course shows the trainee how to take apart the
weapon and how to shoot it. But the course hardly qualifies an officer to
use the weapon in a high-pressure situation, they said.

David Klinger, a former Los Angeles police officer who is now a criminology
professor at the University of Missouri-St. Louis, said a 40-hour
introductory SWAT course doesn't turn a trainee into a tactical officer.

"Just like you don't want part-time surgeons, you can't leave emergency
response to amateurs, and part-time officers are amateurs," Klinger said.
"They should be commended for their concern, but that doesn't mean the way
they chose to address their concern is the correct one."