It doesn’t take special insight to work out Bill Duncan was a cop or a military man – turns out he was both.

Bill Duncan, retiring SOG boss.

We meet outside a coffee shop on the banks of the Yarra. Even though he has just retired Bill walks briskly as if he doesn’t have a moment to lose.

He wears a T-shirt (one suspects in any weather) that is stretched across impressive biceps.

He is straight-backed, which is equally impressive considering he fractured his back during rope-climbing training at the fire brigade tower in Richmond.

We are there to chat about his career that has largely been spent at the Special Operations Group – the sort of organisation that is trained to deal with the dreadful events that unfolded at Bondi just a few days ago.

He speaks with passion, not so much about the actions of the day but the inaction that allows hatred to fester. “Terrorism is an idea, and you can’t kill ideas.”

Turns out we have much in common. He was brought up in Sexton Street, East Reservoir, the street that ended at my high school, Preston East, and he went to Preston East Tech that was at the back of my family home in Albert Street.

Perhaps his legendary hardness was forged in those early days – he had a paper round but no bike, so he walked. “I used a pram and if I got a hole in the sole of a shoe we would just cover it with cardboard.”

Even back then, he had an inkling he wanted to be a cop and was drawn to group activities as a member of the Air League youth group and the Preston Scottish Pipe Band.

Good at maths, he enrolled at the Preston Institute of Technology but dropped out because he detested the English component.

On the road with the SOG. Bill Duncan with the mandatory 1980s moustache.

Hard to believe as he leaves policing with two BAs and a Masters in counter-terrorism. He is back in Australia only for a short time as he is heading back to Asia to complete an intense course learning Vietnamese.

Bill spent six years in the army then 18 months working for a bank before deciding to join Victoria Police in 1987. By late 1990, he was trying out for the SOG.

What the selection course lacked in sophistication it made up for with sheer brutality. Such as standing silently for what seemed like hours, arms outstretched while holding rabbit droppings in your fingers while an instructor would be asking: “What’s so hard about holding rabbit........

© The Age