Military Prisons: About Face

Riots, racism and guard brutality used to be facts of life at U.S. military prisons from the Marine brig at Camp Pendleton, Calif., to the Army's Long Binh jail in Viet Nam. Last year a blue-ribbon panel of civilian penologists visited 23 Army lockups, found most of them dismal, and issued a critical 133-page report. Aware of the problems, the Pentagon urged sweeping reforms.

Last month TIME correspondents visited U.S. military prisons all over the world to check on the progress. The military, they found, has reformed its prisons with dramatic speed. With very few exceptions, service prisoners are now treated far better than civilian inmates. Items:

AT LONG BINH JAIL, where 739 overcrowded prisoners rioted in 1968, the inmate population has been cut to between 400 and 450. "LBJ" has fewer problems now under a new commander, Lieut. Colonel Paul Grossheim, a big, stone-faced lowan with a master's degree in criminology and penology. Says David Addlestone, a civilian defense lawyer for G.I.s in Viet Nam: "I came here really hot to dust the place over and just haven't found that many serious complaints."

AT CAMP PENDLETON, where Marine guards reportedly used to beat hog-tied inmates, the brig population has been halved to less than 500, and a new $2,500,000 facility will open in August. Captain Sam Saxton, an assistant warden, has helped improve the guards' caliber. "When we see a guard going sour," says Saxton, "he's out of here in 72 hours."

AT FORT DIX, N.J., where the Army stockade was a mess last year, Lieut. Colonel Arthur Friedman has launched dramatic reforms in line with his motto, "Firm but fair." To Friedman, a huge 240-pounder, his slogan means clean kitchens, well-trained guards and innovative programs for 446 inmates. Since he took charge 15 months ago, Friedman has started college-preparatory classes, given the inmates a real drug-therapy program complete with talks by ex-addicts, and allowed selected prisoners off-base privileges.

Goaded by Scandal. Aimed at preserving discipline, military justice has always outdone civilian law in providing swift, certain punishment. Goaded by scandal, though, the military has now awakened to the fact that harsh punishment can defeat its urgent efforts to recruit and retain good career men. Says Marine Lieut. Colonel Archie Van Winkle: "We can't afford to keep the prisoner locked up; we want him back."

Not only is it cheaper to "correct" military errants than to draft and train replacements, it is also easier. The vast majority of military prisoners are not criminals and would go free in a civilian setting. More than 75% of them are in for purely military offenses, such as absence without leave. Only an estimated 15% are accused of civilian-style felonies.

At Fort Riley, Kans., 634 Army "re-trainees" are now getting an eisht-week course that stresses military (358 hours) and motivational (143 hours) training. "It's the same Army," says one former Riley inmate, "but it's better people." At the Fort Leavenworth disciplinary barracks, activities include a thriving Jaycees chapter, plus training in computer programming, color-TV repair and silk-screen processing.

The retraining center at Colorado's Lowry Air Force Base now spends $25 a day per prisoner, compared with $10.45 in federal prisons and $1.50 at the New Orleans Parish Prison. At Lowry, which boasts 144 assorted counselors for 220 prisoners, the retraining begins with a battery of psychological and educational tests, proceeds to freewheeling group-therapy sessions that discuss alcoholism, drugs and racism, then moves into academic or vocational programs. Lowry's atmosphere is so free that tales of prisoners' disbelief abound: to test the system, one skeptic walked off the base and waited for the MPs to converge. When none came, he meekly returned to his quarters, convinced of official good intentions.

Civilian prisoners would be equally surprised by "the castle"--the Navy brig in Portsmouth, N.H. To look after 480 inmates, it has 370 guards and other staff members, including three psychologists, four psychiatrists, and six chaplains. The white-towered castle is run by Marine Colonel Walter Domina, a cigar-smoking former fighter pilot who offers his prisoners a choice of 25 vocational-training programs. The prison library is stocked with 11,000 books; inmates are allowed to publish their own magazine, complete with girlie pictures, which they get from the Armed Forces Press Service. Since Domina took over last July, the chapel services have changed as well. "How can you expect a 20-year-old to listen to Onward, Christian Soldiers!" asks Domina. Last month Portsmouth enjoyed its first folk mass.

All is not perfect, of course, even at Portsmouth. Incorrigibles are still likely to land in "the hole": solitary confinement below ground in dank semidarkness. The Navy is also investigating reports that Portsmouth has a major drug-trafficking problem. But such black marks pale in comparison with the grim conditions at one of the military's least reformed prisons: the Army stockade at Mannheim, Germany.

Atypical Situation. Mannheim, commanded by Major Harry Crawford, houses 300 of the 425 G.I. prisoners in Europe and is almost a carbon copy of the worst civilian prison facilities in the U.S. Guarded by four watchtowers with spotlights, the stark brick structure is surrounded by two 7-ft.-high rows of barbed wire. Few if any prisoners at Mannheim are rehabilitated. Homosexuality is rampant and drugs abound. Tension between white and black inmates is so bad that guards simply let each group run its part of the jungle. Says one white inmate: "You can survive if you stay away from the brothers." Last month one white was cut across the face and chest by black prisoners wielding razor blades; another was raped by a gang of blacks.

Happily, the Mannheim situation is atypical for the 1971 military correctional system. More than half of Fort Riley's 18,000 Army retrainees, for example, are now either back on duty or have received honorable discharges. At the Air Force's Lowry retraining facility, 11.6% of the inmates return to duty. The Marines' return rate is even higher: 79.4%. The military may not have completely solved the mysteries of rehabilitation, but it has surely outperformed most civilian prisons.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.