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The three dozen cadets who graduated Thursday from the Baltimore Police Academy heard the requisite words of caution and advice.

Mayor Sheila Dixon told the newest city police officers that they're joining a department that drove crime and homicides to 20-year lows. She told them that despite tough budget times, they have to "maintain and not compromise public safety."

Police Commissioner Frederick H. Bealefeld III read from a century-old letter advising officers that "your character is your capital." The top officer told them that "cops count," but more importantly, "It's what cops do that matters."

But these cadets also heard some sobering words from a man who has made it his mission to take bullets out of wounded police officers, who has come to know and treat so many cops that he has joined their tight fraternity and become the man in the white coat that everyone wearing a blue uniform wants standing at the operating table should they be hurt.

Dr. Thomas M. Scalea, the chief of surgery at Maryland Shock Trauma Center, told the class that he had recently heard from the wife of the very first officer he treated for a gunshot wound when he came to Baltimore 23 years ago. The wife sent him pictures of the couple's now-grown children.

He quoted from the letter: "They exist because of what you were able to do that night."

The doctor then told them that just before coming to their graduation, he stopped by the hospital room of one of their colleagues, Officer Aaron Harris, who was shot three times in the abdomen and lower left leg during a robbery in front of his Northwest Baltimore home last month.

Scalea recounted how the officer was first taken to Sinai Hospital but then moved to Shock Trauma at the doctor's insistence, despite the family's concerns that he wouldn't survive the move. Scalea said that while he certainly can't guarantee it, "He will live."

"You are now police officers," Scalea told the academy graduates. "So you've got my promise: If you are hurt, and you come to my hospital, and I'm in Baltimore, I will take care of you."

The surgeon refrained from listing all the officers he has treated over years, warning that the list would be too long.

These are not words mothers and grandmothers want to hear as they send their loved ones onto city streets, even ones the mayor tells them are getting safer by the day.

Virginia Boone went to the ceremony to cheer on her grandson, Dayron M. Arnold, a Towson University graduate who decided to become a city officer. Boone lives in Pimlico, an area hard hit by crime, and she listened attentively to the various speakers.

Scalea's speech didn't scare Boone, she said, but when asked whether she believed what the mayor and police commissioner had to say, she said, "About half of it." She explained, "Some challenges are unattainable, such as bringing down crime." She also added, "We don't have enough officers and people don't respect officers the way they should."

Bealefeld thought it important that the officers hear about some of the things he did this week, and how they might relate to their jobs in patrol.

He told them of helping a nonprofit raise money for abused children and raising more money for a local hospital. He told them of talking to a top federal homeland security officer about a rash of robberies at city gas stations owned by Pakistanis who keep their money at home instead of at banks.

And he told them about a seminar in Washington on "hot spot policing" - focusing resources on small pockets of crime. The commissioner reminded the class that he does not have a college degree, and that theories from afar are fine, but that his officers deal with reality; and his reality, on Wednesday night alone, is that officers in three parts of the city arrested people with guns.

Bealefeld reminded them: "It's what you do that counts."