IBO - Brian R. Lundin (100 books to read in a lifetime .txt) 📗

did a smart about-face and left the room.
The walls of the office was filled with pictures of a younger Colonel Ellis huddled with other soldiers. All of the soldiers held weapons and had ammunition bandoliers strapped over their shoulders. The soldiers were standing in from of a military humvee in dirty red sand with a pile of burning scrap metal that use to be a tank that would never move again. The grim faced soldiers were touching each other as if to make sure they were not alone. There was a large Marine Corp plague on the wall, which displayed commendations, assorted medals, and other Marine Corp paraphernalia. A framed picture displayed a stern-face man in a Marine uniform standing behind a wicker chair that contained a young woman. Chris recognized the tall young man in a Marine uniform standing beside the man. A little blond girl stood smiling holding the woman hand. Colonel Ellis noticed Chris looking at the picture and said.
“That’s my mom, dad and sister.”
“A Marine Corp family?” Chris said.
“Yes sir, my father retired as a full general and fought in Vietnam and the First Gulf War.
“Like father, like son,” Chris said solemnly.
Colonel Ellis was even more impressive than Lieutenant Riley was. He was over six feet tall with a physique hardened by years of physical training. He was in his late thirties and his short-cropped hair was cropped in a military buzz cut and was framed by a chiseled handsome sunburned face illuminated by steely sea blue eyes. He was wearing the Marine Corp dress blue uniform and his broad chest was adorned with medals. He generated an air of confidence, charisma and authority. Chris for a moment was hypnotized by his presence, which was so overwhelming that it seemed that he felt the air leave his lungs. The colonel had an unsettling animal sense that made Chris feel uneasy, but Chris also knew that this man knew about leadership and everything military.
“I just received orders to allow you an interview and a tour of our facilities,” he said, tightly shaking Chris hand.
“I’m Chris Tolver and this is my cameraman, William, nice meeting you Colonel, do you mind if we tape this interview?” Chris said taking out his notepad.
“Not at all,” the colonel said adjusting his tie, “Have a seat,” he said, pointing to a green chair with the Marine Corp logo.
“I commend your people on the powers of the press, you are the first news people to our camp,” he said sarcastically.
Chris overlooked the remark and said, “We are doing a series on the camps and as you probably know they are quite controversial, after our first show about the Re-Education Camp, we have received thousands of inquiries about the program. We just left the Re-Indoctrination Camp and since we were in the area we decided to visit yours, the last one on our list.”
William who had been panning his office now centered the camera on the colonel who sat upright in his chair.
In the background, Chris started his lead in.
“This is Chris Tolver from CNN, we are in the office of Colonel Sam Ellis the Commanding Officer of the Disciplinary Unit, firstly Colonel will you give our viewers an overview of the camp?”
“This camp is designed to teach discipline and conformity to rules, we are not concerned about anything else, and we are not concerned about education or rehabilitation. We adhere to the three-pronged philosophy of incapacitation, deterrence and punishment. We are located in one of the most isolated areas of the country, the Rocky Mountains. As you have already observed it is staffed by United States Marines who has been carefully selected and trained for this mission. All of the Marines here has combat experience and are expert in hand-to-hand combat. The camp itself is on over twenty thousand acres of land. The barracks where the “recruits” are housed are miles apart and all are enclosed by chain link electrified fence and barb wire.
Our camp is the last stop for disruptive youngsters from the other camps, before federal prison. We have forty barracks; each made to hold 250 men. Our ‘Recruits, as we called them, have had disciplinary problems at the other camps and many of them have committed criminal offenses and are here awaiting trial on those charges. Our mission is simple, to instill discipline and conformance to rules and regulations. Some may consider the conditions harsh, but you must remember these are not nice guys; they would slit your throat if given half a chance. Some of these young people are just unfit, unfit to work, for social contact, for life itself, some of the people I do believe are mentally ill based on their behavior and attitude about everything. The recruits sleep on wooden planks with a mattress and they have a blanket. They are fed two meals a day, good solid food, no steaks of course but good food. We approach this mission the same way we do in Marine Boot Camp. Some of our recruits have never abided by any rules; they have always done whatever they wanted to do, but not here. There are rules and they obey these rules.”
The colonel handed Chris of rules and regulations. As Chris read the rules, the colonel explained.
“These rules and regulation are designed to maintain discipline and order. Any violation of these rules results in punishment from which could include hard labor, solitary confinement or a filing of more criminal charges if so warranted. I will not tolerate any threats to my Marines, no challenge or affront, no matter how slight goes unpunished. Our government has mandated us to provide security for the people of our nation, and that’s exactly what we’ll do, that is our mission and Marines always fulfill their mission or die.”
“Has anyone ever escaped from your facility,” Chris asked.
“A few years ago a crack head and gangbanger who had been in trouble at the other camps tried to escape and ran right into the electrified fence, by the time we were able to turn the juice off he was toast,” the colonel said unemotionally.
“Could we take a tour of the grounds?” Chris asked politely.
The colonel appeared surprised, but knew he could not refuse. Now we will get a chance to see how the camp is really run, not a set-up, Chris thought to himself.
“Of course,” the colonel said reluctantly, “Lieutenant,” the colonel yelled.
Lieutenant Riley who was standing the colonel outer office joined them as they went to the parking lot.
“Follow us,” the Colonel commanded as he and another Marine who was driving got into the jeep; Chris, the lieutenant and William joined Walsh in the SUV.
“You got a lot of balls,” William said under his breath, smiling.
“Like I told you, those set-up interviews are bullshit, he has not had time to set up anything, we will see the real camp,” Chris said enigmatically and quietly.
As they drove the lieutenant pointed out the barracks that housed the “Recruits,” a large open area that was used for roll call, the mess hall, latrine and shower hut, storage and laundry room and the rifle range. About ten young Marines were jogging and smartly saluted the colonel and the lieutenant as they drove passed. Their first stop was at a large field where over two hundred young men wearing white tee-shirts and green shorts were doing calisthenics, a fit looking young man wearing a green tee-shirt and green shorts with the Marine Corp logo was standing on a raised platform leading the exercises, interspersed among the men were other Marines. When he noticed the colonel approaching, the Marine on the platform yelled “Attention.” Immediately all the young men dropped to the ground in a push up position. The Marines stood at attention. All the Marines saluted the colonel, as William recorded the field.
“Sound bodies make sound minds,” the colonel continued, the recruits undergo an intense physical training regiment, very similar to what Marine recruits go through. They have two hours of calisthenics in the morning and two hours of calisthenics in the evening.”
“What do they do in between the calisthenics,” Chris asked. “They have work assignments; some maintains the grounds and others perform other duties. They also have a two-mile run one in the morning and one in the evening.”
The men left the training field and continued their tour; their next stop was a grey stoned building that looked to be over sixty feet tall and built like an English castle.
“This is a very impressive building Chris said.”
“Yes it is it is our disciplinary barrack. During the old days it housed cattle rustlers and other bad guys and was administered by a Mormon order who designed the building to make the inmate feel very insignificant, they believed that rehabilitation came from hard work, obedience and church attendance, it was known as the Auburn System. We use it as a detention center for the worst of the worst. We call these people inmates, not recruits. These inmates are mainly awaiting trial for criminal offenses, which include murder, attacks on staff at the camps and so on. They are dangerous animals and we treat them like that,” Lieutenant Riley said.
The lieutenant entered a code into a device on the outside of a large steel door and a humming noise kicked in and the door slowly opened just wide enough for them to enter. Once inside, the door quickly closed and locked. As they entered the building, a stew of urine, feces, vomit, funk and strong disinfect infused the air with a powerful stench, although the colonel and the lieutenant did not appeared affected. A young Marine with arms as big as Chris legs, a thick neck, a hard looking belly and wearing green fatigues over a stab proof vest immediately stood at attention as they entered. Beside him was an attractive, but fit looking female marine. Both had a green deadly looking truncheon attached to their web belt and a huge mace canister was in a holder on their hips.
“Stand at ease,” the lieutenant ordered and the young marines relaxed, a little.
“Good morning Corporal Sanders and Williams,” the colonel said in a loud voice.
“Good morning, sir,” the Marines resounded in a louder voice.
“Would it be ok if I asked the corporal a few questions,” Chris asked, hearing himself shouting also.
“Go right ahead,” the colonel said in a lower tone.
“Good morning Corporal Sanders, my name is Chris and I’m a reporter from CNN. We are doing a story on your camp. What are your duties?”
“Good morning, sir. We are the Officers of the Day and our duties are to monitor the inmates and ensure their safety and confinement.”
As they walked down the dark corridor, Chris noticed there were cells on each side all facing the corridor. Large steel door were in front of each cell, which was enclosed by iron bars. The cell allowed no privacy for the inmate. The Officer of the day observed anything that the prisoner did-sleeping or using the porcelain toilet.
“How many inmates do you have,” Chris asked Corporal Saunders.
“Twenty-three,” was his reply.