In strict formation, the heavily-equipped officers turned into a narrow alley to be confronted by a keffiyah-wearing maniac only too happy to toss petrol bombs directly at the feet of the advancing officers.

But clothed in fireproof overalls, and with intense training behind them, the ‘stack' formation of officers moves on undeterred.

But this isn't Front Street or White Hill Field, this is the Airport ‘Finger' and it is how the elite unit from Bermuda Police Service prepare themselves for unruly acts of public disorder and civil disobedience.

The rioters are played by training officers and other Policemen, but the equipment is real, the stress is real, the tactics are real, the fire is real and the importance of this type of exercise is all too obvious.

“I must admit I would rather have a petrol bomb thrown at me than a brick,” said Shakisha Minors, a 21-year-old Bermudian who transferred into the PSU last year after becoming bored with the relative lack of activity in her original St. George's posting.

“These training days are so important for us. It is a time for us to really get together and learn the skills that we need to deal with problems on the street.

“Nowadays, whenever there is a major event, you always think it is going to lead to some kind of trouble - it never used to be like this.”

It is this fear, and the reality the PSU officers see increasingly regularly on the streets, that makes this training all the more serious.

In recent months, the riot shields and various accompanying pieces of equipment have been loaded into Police vehicles on two occasions, for the General Election and at White Hill Field, but at neither time were the squad deployed.

But that is not to say they won't be on New Year's Eve, if last year's troubles are repeated, hence the need for the intensive - and (at times) painfully realistic two-day training session.

With the warm-up out the way, officers were begrudgingly driven down the runway to complete a draining 500 metre run in full riot gear, which includes a cumbersome, wind-susceptible, long shield.

The run, a simulation of a deployment down from Hamilton Police station to either Court or Front Streets, was followed by an immediate session of formation manoeuvres around the old ammunition dumps at the Airport facility.

“No rest guys, we have to go straight into it,” barked Public Order Training Co-ordinator Russ Matthews.

“If this was happening for real and we had just run down from the Police station, we would have to go straight into duty - so, no water, that is what we are doing here.” The morning session was spent going over the basics of how to patrol the streets and move in and out of the various formations required, although the absence of any rioters made this a relatively straightforward drill. Some confusion and forgetfulness by officers over their allocated numbers led to a well-deserved series of press-ups - again no easy feat in the safe, but far from comfortable, equipment. After a much-needed lunch-break, during which the four new recruits were treated to a series of direct hits with petrol bombs, the training began in earnest - but this time with ‘rioters'. Equipped with wooden bricks and more than enough adapted Corona bottles to inspire a real drink-fuelled riot, our enemy took up positions among the warren of alleyways and roads.

Although effectively performing the same manoeuvres, the constant barrage of bricks and flame-inducing bombs added a certain edge to the set moves.

A failure to correctly carry your shield, or getting caught out of position, would now yield a brick to the head or an uncomfortable fire around your feet rather than just a stern word from the trainers.

Where during the morning the odd lapse in concentration had led to an officer moving either too slowly, or incorrectly, following a command of ‘stack', ‘box' or ‘cordon', there were no such mistakes being made when rioters were involved.

Although everyone knew we were ‘just' training, under the heat and pressure of running down a flame-lined alleyway with a now-sweat filled helmet, it did seem uncomfortably realistic. You can't but help stick to the strict rules of engagement if you are forced to drag limp bodies away from the combat area or your ‘dustbin-lid' shield is being peppered with missiles by an obscenity-shouting yob.

“I feel more comfortable going out on the streets after these training sessions,” said Matt Clayton, a 26-year-old UK officer who has spent every weekend since July out at the sharp-end of Bermuda policing.

“If something happens out on the streets you need officers who are trained, and days like this train those officers.”

These sessions, where staff numbers allow, take place at least once a month. And if, and nobody wants to see it, Bermuda does erupt again on New Year's Eve, you can expect a well-drilled response from Bermuda's boys in blue (and black helmets). And it will take more than just a few petrol bombs, the Bermudian weapon of choice if recently recovered stashes are anything to go by, to scare them off.