This Is the Army Mr. Jones?

To see what basic training is like in the new, all-volunteer U.S. Army, TIME Correspondent James Bell last week visited Fort Jackson in the piney woods of South Carolina. Bell brought plenty of credentials and plenty of perspective to the job. He had taken basic training during World War II and later reported on how the system of making soldiers out of civilians operated during the Korean War. Old Soldier Bell's report:

"Our mission is to develop a highly motivated, disciplined soldier who knows the basic skills of his craft," says Major General William B. Caldwell III, commander of Fort Jackson. "Unlike the Marines--and I don't mean to criticize them--we don't first break a man down and then rebuild him. We think that he should be able to think for himself. He should respond to orders, but we don't want to set him in a mold."

From the day of his arrival at Fort Jackson to start his two-year enlistment, today's recruit is treated in considerate ways that would have astonished G.I.s of the past. For example, the recruit is quickly outfitted by tailors who make on-the-spot adjustments. Instead of being shorn like a lamb, the trainee can give precise orders on how his hair should be cut, as long as it does not touch his ears or collar. He dines in a style that used to be reserved for officers.

If he is lucky, the new soldier is assigned to a facility that looks more like a garden apartment complex than a military barracks. Completely air-conditioned, the buildings are equipped with color television, single beds, spacious lockers and individual toilet facilities that old Sad Sack, the perennial latrine orderly, would not believe. So far, only one of these super-barracks has been constructed at Fort Jackson, but three others are being built or are scheduled for erection, enough to handle half of the 4,000 male recruits that stream through the gates every month.

Dress Right. Instead of being shocked awake by a whistle or worse, the recruit begins his day at 5:30 a.m. when the lights are snapped on. There is no reveille formation. Matter of fact, there is no retreat and there are precious few other occasions when the new soldier has to fall in and dress right.

The training course, which has been cut to less than seven weeks from the once traditional three months, has been wisely weeded and pruned. I remember spending two weeks alternately sitting around baking in the sun and policing the area at Fort Leavenworth, Kans., while waiting for something to happen, but much of this sort of foolishness has been eliminated. Gone are the endless orientation lectures that used to provide an opportunity for a recruit to catch up on sleep while some clod stood before a map and explained where Scandinavia was as he pointed to the Iberian peninsula. By and large, gone too are the arrogant sergeants and junior officers who ordered a trainee to do humiliating things just to show off their authority.

Instead, the recruits get tough, demanding and useful training under the command of their drill sergeants, men who wear their distinctive campaign hats down low over their eyes and who are the key to the whole operation. Most of the sergeants are Viet Nam veterans; all have had 13 to 20 years' service, and all have gone through a special training course hard enough to flunk 35% of those enrolled.

For twelve to 14 hours a day, six days a week, the sergeants drill their charges on the use of such weapons as the M-16 rifle and the M-79 grenade launcher, and teach them how to survive on the battlefield. The recruits "attack" while machine guns are fired over their heads, are ambushed by a tear-gas attack and end up marching 15 miles and bivouacking in the field for a week. The men have to pass a final exam in combat skills. Anyone who flunks twice has to take the entire seven-week course over again.

Very Choosy. The Army now has the right to discharge any soldier within 180 days if he cannot cut it physically, mentally or morally. The discharge is honorable, but the person is not eligible for veterans' benefits. Under the program, 9.5% of the men at Fort Jackson were sent home last year.

Nowadays the Army can afford to be very choosy. The recession has increased the number and quality of the applicants. The members of one new company at Fort Jackson average 12.7 years of schooling. A high school graduate who signs up for a combat unit gets a $2,500 bonus when he enlists. His monthly pay starts at $344.10 a month, plus another $110.70 a month if he is married, plus free uniforms, housing, food, medical care and the benefits of the G.I. Bill waiting for him when he leaves.

"Critics of the volunteer Army said that it would turn into a force of the undereducated, the deprived, the dregs and the minorities," says General Caldwell. "It just hasn't happened that way." When the all-volunteer Army was established in July 1973, 19% of the Army were black (v. 11% of the population). The figure has since edged up to 22%, but the level is holding. There seems to be little racial tension at Fort Jackson. Frank Lewis, a black from Newark, told me: "Here in the barracks we've got to get along together as a team all the time. If one of us goofs up, we all get in trouble."

General Caldwell claims that "morale is far and above what it was during the days of the draft," and the evidence at Fort Jackson seems to back him up. The rates of courts-martial and AWOLs are down. I never talked to more soldiers who did less bitching. In fact, no one even seems to swear any more. I heard exactly one four-letter word. On a rifle range, a sergeant turned on a complainer and shouted, "That's tough shit, soldier!" The lieutenant in charge of the range looked shocked. He grinned at me and said, "Well, you can't change human nature." The incident made me feel a little more at home.

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