At my alma mater, HKU, students have reinforced their defences overnight and remain on high alert after a few close shaves. This morning University officials negotiated a truce with police, with protesters agreeing not to engage police as long as they don’t try to enter campus.

Layered security on the campus of PolyU. With every bridge fully blocked, Road access is controlled by a series of barricades separated by fields of bricks, nail and PVC caltrops and vegetable oil. Students perform bag checks on everyone entering to guard against undercover cops.

The canteen has been turned into a supply centre filled with food, warm clothing and various gear to protect against tear gas and pepper spray. The kitchen is still operational as well, with student volunteers preparing simple meals for their “brothers and sisters.”

PolyU is a hive of activity. The whole campus is abuzz with students busily preparing defences, readying Molotov cocktails, distributing supplies, staffing the first aid stations, making posters, and scouting for police activity. They’re getting stuck in for a protracted siege.

Despite getting throughly “renovated,” students don’t appear to have touched any of the food in this Starbucks on campus. Whatever you think of protesters’ turn toward vandalism, they’re not rioters or looters—and are careful to make that distinction clear with moves like this.

I’m old enough to remember when journalists were furiously speculating about the first petrol bombs and protesters insisted they were thrown by agents provocateurs. That was late July.

The only artwork I’ve seen vandalised is this stone with calligraphy by former Chinese premier Wen Jiabao. They’ve also added some next level *framed* Lennon Wall murals so a net gain.

Exploring the empty workshops at PolyU is eerie but illuminating. No wonder the defences here feel so much more designed and industrial than HKU’s. This is what you get taking on a uni that was historically a trade school and still excels in engineering and the applied sciences.

The distribution centre and “resistance canteen” has got even busier and more organised since last visit. There are aisles for water, dry goods, tools, daily items, clothing, fresh food and ready meals —and even treats “for the CUHK cats.”

Wandering around PolyU today feels like the early days of the airport protests, when people saw it as a place where they were safe from police. The students here aren’t naive—their defences show that—but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen them look relaxed, happy, and at home.

One early and unfortunate casualty of the impending Battle of PolyU is the campus shrubbery, torn out and stripped bare to provide kindling for fires and extra manoeuvring room at strategic vantage points. The University is being rapidly desertified.

Target practice at the PolyU swimming pool. Safe to say they’ve got more than enough petrol bombs at this point.

Volunteer medics using the ride-on floor scrubber to transport first-aid supplies around campus.

Toll booths for the cross-harbour tunnel at Hung Hom just hit by a new round of fire bombing. The air is thick with smoke but the fire brigade have arrived to extinguish the flames.

“I graduated from PolyU; he graduated from this world. He was only 22.”

Memorial for deceased student protester Alex Chow Tsz-lok at PolyU, opposite the steps where graduating students have their pictures taken.

Just spoke to a protester friend of mine who said that despite receiving a surge of people from Mong Kok last night almost everyone left eventually, leaving behind only around 40 to defend PolyU overnight and when police tear-gassed them and raptors closed in in the morning.

She hasn’t slept in days and she said that when the police were besieging campus she and the other defenders wrote their wills, afraid they might die. She said everyone is exhausted and they don’t dare ask even more by imploring them to stay. For her sake, I hope more do tonight.