Army Certificate of Training

Letter

After all of the testing I went through during in-processing, I was told that I needed take a few classes in order to be eligible for early release or parole. If I did not take the classes then I was basically saying that I was not remorseful for my crimes. This was not a problem for me, I was willing to do it and I wanted out of prison as fast as possible.

The psych specialist that assessed me decided that the ones I needed for rehabilitation were; Stress Management, Advanced Stress Management, Narcotics Anonymous, Drug and Alcohol Related Incidents, Social and Coping Skills and Reality Therapy. Most of these were pretty standard and I would take them one at a time as slots opened up. NA was an exception, I would start attending that class as soon as I was sent up into the general population. It was decided that I would be in medium custody.

On the educational assessment, I scored above a 12^th grade level on everything but math. I struggled with math in high school because I hated it. My score landed me at a 9^th grade level. So instead of starting a job right away, I was assigned to Detail 5, Academic Day School. This was a tutoring program designed to get inmates lower scores up to the level acceptable to take college courses. College classes were offered by the University of Kansas. The tutors teaching the classes were inmates who were former officers.

We also received our work detail assignments. I wanted to work in the barber shop, it was my number one choice. My second and third choices were the chapel and the library. Ft. Leavenworth had the largest library in the U. S. Correctional System. The jobs I did not want were; janitor, laundry and dining facility.

My assignment was Detail 44, Dining Facility. Getting this assignment frustrated me. The only good thing about this job was, because no one wanted to do it, the abatement was higher. This meant that I would receive more credit towards early release. Some of the least liked jobs had this benefit. This also meant I had to take a food handlers class in order to learn about sanitation.

I finally decided to write the letter to the Zweibruecken chapel youth group. I wasn’t sure how to start it so I copied the intro from the style of Paul from the Bible. “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ!” That is what he wrote in his letters to churches and so I felt it was appropriate.

I wrote in the letter about my history growing up, attending church, leaving home to join the Army, and my introduction into the drug culture. Instead of turning to God, in my moment of weakness, I turned to drugs. I talked about how I got into selling, my arrest and then going AWOL to Houston. From there my further spiral into more types, quantities and increased frequency of drugs. How my need for more drugs led to other criminal behavior and then my trips back to Fort Polk to increase my market of buyers. I continued on with the rest of all my stupidity, ending up in jail and overdosing, and how God let me continue on until He was ready to stop me. I wrote about my final arrest, court martial and confinement.

In the summary this is what I wrote, “I’m glad I got caught. I was out of control and probably would have been dead by the end of 1990. I might have overdosed again and never woke back up. I might have gotten killed in a bad drug deal. In one year I turned from a decent Christian into a junkie criminal. I believe this all happened for a reason though. I’m still young and I won’t be here forever. When I get out, I will be able to share my experiences with someone who might be headed in the same direction I went. It’s so easy to get lured into drugs these days. If you do it once, you will do it again. There are two morals to this story. One is just say NO! Drugs are a dead end street. You will either end up in a hospital, in prison, or dead. Almost all my friends from Ft. Polk went to jail for drugs. Some of them will go back to the same old stuff. As for me, I’ve learned my lesson. Moral number two is, no matter how badly you have messed up, or no matter what you have done, God will forgive you and accept you back into his flock. You have to be sincere about giving up your old sinful life, and turning over a new leaf for your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Like I said at the beginning of this letter, I hope I’ve helped someone out there and I pray that none of you ever get in the position where you have to decide whether or not to take drugs. Keep me in your prayers! Love in Christ, David Mike.”

Once I was finished, I sealed it up and sent it to Germany. Sending this letter was very therapeutic, and I felt pretty good about myself for writing it. Truthfully, I didn’t believe everything I wrote, even though there were some pretty powerful statements in there. I can’t say they fully resonated with my heart. Wanting to sound Godly and legitimate I stole things I read in the Bible or heard in church. Even though I might have been saying things that made sense in my situation, it was like I was directing it all towards the recipient. It was almost like I was removed from the actual events. The psych specialist was right, I needed that reality therapy class.

Maybe one of the kids in the group would benefit from hearing the letter. It is very possible God could use this letter for His glory, but only if He wanted to.

Letter (Click to Tweet)

Next post I’m moved up into the general population.

Mugshot

In-processing (Click to tweet)

The next four weeks would be taken up by in-processing and I would be subjected to a battery of tests. Psychological, academic, aptitude and medical. These tests were used to determine my custody level as well as the rehabilitation programs that I needed to take to be released from prison, or to be eligible for parole. They would also help to determine what skill set I had and which work detail I would be assigned to.

I had been cutting hair as a hobby for four years and so I really had my heart set on the barbering program. You could obtain your barber license through the state of Kansas and would have tons of experience from cutting inmates hair all day long. Military regulation haircuts were still enforced in the DB, because we were all still in the military.

They also had some indoctrination classes on how to navigate the DB: rules, regulations, laundry, education, operations, counseling, work details, etc. The sessions were about an hour long and about forty different departments all had something to tell us, followed up with a question answer session for each one.

I did everything they asked, took all the tests, answered all the questions and signed all the forms. Five tubes of blood and shots were given during the medical examination.

I had my picture taken and was issued a laminated badge, color coded by custody level and the domicile I was assigned to. I was currently in maximum security but would most likely be elevated to medium custody because of the number of charges, and length of sentence.

I was assigned a registration number that started with a letter. This letter identified which branch of service you used to be in.  A for Army AF for Air Force N for Navy MC for Marine Corps and CG for Coast Guard.

My number was A74780. It was on the badge and was ink stamped on everything I was issued. It was used in my mailing address, and written on anything that was my personal property. This number was my identity and the badge was my key to moving around the prison. The badge was also looked at twice a day during a face to face, prison wide, head count.

During in-processing I started to meet some fellow inmates that were also new to the DB.

Two soldiers that were stationed near Frankfort Germany had been charged with an entire field of marijuana worth 3.3 million. They stumbled onto the field, took a bunch of the plants and filled up their duffle bags. They told some other people about it and ended up getting turned in. They were convicted for the entire field.

Another inmate was an Air Force Captain who had been AWOL for nine years. He had been living in a wealthy friend’s home the entire time, being careful to never use his identity. He had just been existing in quiet seclusion for all that time. I believe his mother was sick or died and it prompted him to come out of hiding and turn himself in. Because he was an officer, he came directly to the DB with no wait. This was standard for all convicted officers no matter how long the sentence was.

A third interesting inmate came in convicted of treason. He was a soldier that had been selling secrets to the East Germans. They were going to give him the death penalty but he managed to get a pretrial agreement for forty years. My five years seemed much shorter.

During rec time which is about one hour a day, I did have the opportunity to make collect phone calls. I mostly called family because they would accept the call. My grandmother did not want to talk about my situation around other people, so I had to call when she was all alone. I think she didn’t know how my grandfather would handle my situation being a veteran and all.

I was able to talk to my friend from high school again. His dad mentioned, that if my family was still in Germany when I was eligible for parole, he would be willing to give me a job and a place to stay. That made me feel pretty good but I had a long way to go. Things could change.

Once again, having the last name Mike really singled me out. Because it was such an odd last name guards would call me to do stuff when they couldn’t remember other inmate’s names. Mostly it involved cleaning something. On multiple occasions I was asked if my first name was Mike as well as my last name. It got really old being the guy to remember in this place. You really just want to blend in and not be noticed.

If we weren’t in a briefing, or being tasked to do some work, we just sat in our cells. Being bored out of my mind I looked for anything to keep me sane. I saw a rack of books on a shelf that had been brought down from the library. So I started reading. I had been reading my Bible but I had a lot of time on my hands and so in addition to that I read a novel a day, for every day that I was down there. The ones I remember were “It” by Steven King, “A Prayer for Owen Meany” by Jon Irving and a couple of Dean Koontz books.

The boredom was maddening but it paled in comparison to what some of the other inmates were dealing with. Yesterday, on the 23^rd of April, an inmate hung himself in maximum security. I guess some people could not handle the pressure of being here. It was pretty depressing to hear this news. I don’t remember his name or what his crime was, but his pain was over with now.

This made me realize that I needed to do something positive with my time. My chapel youth group leader from Germany and I, had been corresponding with each other and so I decided to write a letter to the kids that he was mentoring. I started to think about what I could say to have them never end up in a place like this.

Next post..

I write a letter to the youth group.

USDB

Army Prison (Click to Tweet)

I was headed to Army prison and my final destination. Once again I was placed in a vehicle and escorted from to the next. My next stop would be the United States Disciplinary Barracks at Fort Leavenworth, KS.  I would not be going anywhere again for a couple of years.

As we pulled up to the almost ninety year old USDB, I noticed how massive the brick walls that surrounded the compound were. They were very tall, anywhere from sixteen to forty-one feet depending on the terrain. They were topped with razor wire and guard towers. These towers were manned with military guards, armed with rifles.

Visible above the walls was an even larger structure. It had a domed central building with long wings jutting out of it like spokes on a wheel that were about nine stories tall. This was the main housing unit for most of the 1500 inmates that resided inside the walls. It was an imposing sight. It was called the DB or sometimes called the Castle.

We arrived at the West Gate, which had an electrically controlled sliding door that was made out of four and a half inch thick steel. The vehicle pulled up to the gate and I was told to grab my duffle bag and get out. I did not have to go through the massive sliding door though, there was another regular door at the bottom of one of the guard towers and I was buzzed in.

Once inside a couple of guards jumped in my face and started dressing me down. It felt like basic training all over again. They said things like, “You really screwed up coming here. What are you in here for?” I told them, drugs and AWOL. One of the guards said, “Didn’t you hear Nancy Reagan when she said, ‘Just say no.’?” This was an anti-drug campaign made famous by the former First Lady.

They made me stand in the shake down position. I held my arms out, feet spread apart and a guard patted me down. This was something that I was going to have to get used to. They did not find any contraband or weapons and so I was told to grab my duffle bag. As I did, the Bible that my parent sent me fell out and landed on the ground. One of the guards mumbled, “You’re going to need that in here.”

I found out later that this was just an intimidation technique that they do to every new inmate to put them in a frame of mind that you will have no control here. This was no different than any of my other military experiences to date and so it didn’t bother as much as they wanted it to. I really wasn’t too worried about the guards in this place.

Control Room

I was escorted into the main entrance of the Castle which led to the rotunda. Inside I was greeted by a highly polished floor and sitting in the middle was a two tiered control room where all the surveillance for each wing was monitored. The evenly spaced openings on each wall of the rotunda lead to a different wing or some other part of the DB.

In between the spaces there were walls lined with benches. If you got into trouble, you would end up on one of these benches until you talked to someone, from there they would figure out what to do with you. There were a couple of men in brown uniforms sitting on these benches.

Because I was still in BDU’s everyone knew I was new. So as I was being escorted through the rotunda towards 3 Wing, all the inmates from the upper levels were calling out to me, saying things like “Fresh meat” I just kept my head down and kept being led through. We went down a flight of stairs below ground and then into 3 Base, which sat directly beneath 3 Wing. This was one of the maximum security cell blocks and was specifically for new inmates that were in-processing. They called it reception.

I walked past a row of cells and I did not look into any of them. Most of them were occupied and I felt like I should not make eye contact with anyone. At the end of the cell block was a table where I was told to put my duffle bag and empty out the contents. They went through everything and told me that I could send home whatever I didn’t want to keep with me. I really only had stuff to write with, my Bible and some pictures along with grooming items, so I didn’t send anything home.

One of the last cells was converted into a shower and I was told to strip down, take a shower and I had ten minutes to get it done. I was glad that they didn’t throw that delousing powder on me that you see in the movies. After I got out, they handed me a brown shirt and pants that looked just like a UPS uniform but without the logo. I got to keep my Army boots, belt and undergarments however, they took all my Army uniforms away from me.

This is when I finally felt the transition from soldier to inmate. The time I spent at Fort Hood IDF gave me a little taste of being back in the Army, but that was all over with now. They gave me a cell number and told me to take my stuff and get in the cell.

As I entered the six by eight foot windowless cell, I saw a regular Army bed, fold out mini table bolted to the wall, a metal toilet/sink combination, and a cabinet to put my stuff in. Behind me I heard the door slowly sliding shut and then the metal on metal sound of it locking me in. The door wasn’t solid. It had vertical and horizontal mini bars, woven up and over each other and so you could see clearly out of the cell.

I would spend the next month in 3 Base reception, until they decided I was ready to move up into general population. I laid down on the bed which was quite comfortable and started to read my Bible. I didn’t have any other books to read at the moment and so I started in on that.

That night as I was laying in my bunk, I heard a song playing on the radio by Sinead O’Connor. It was “Nothing Compares 2U” and it tugged at me. All the lyrics didn’t make complete sense to my situation, but the emotion in the song got to me. Maybe it was me trying to be brave and holding in a bunch of suppressed feelings but, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I cried quietly as she sang, “Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling, tell me baby, where did I go wrong…”

Next post, In-processing…

Military Inmates

Military Inmates (Tweet This)

The closer it got to Tessler’s trial, the more military inmates started showing up in jail. I did not have to testify in all of their court-martials. Just two more and I was done.

I decided to reach out and call a friend from high school who had not responded to any of my letters at this time. I am sure it was pretty weird to accept a collect call from a jail, but I figured we were friends. I don’t think he really wanted to talk to me. It was probably out of pity that he accepted the call.

I was starting to feel more and more isolated from the life outside the walls. I realized now that I had probably burned some bridges with many people due to my actions and my current situations. It would probably take some time before people were used to the fact that even though I was an inmate with a criminal history, I was still David Mike.

While the church people were up at the jail, one of them asked if Eddie and I were interested in going to a school to speak to the students about our situation and to encourage them to stay out of trouble. We both said, “Yes” but were sure that the Army would never let it happen. It was good to hear someone say that they were interested in my story. That they were interested in me as a person. That I had value.

A letter came to me from Virginia. It was Jane and she had completed her move with her mom and brother.  She said that she was doing fine and that she would see me at Captain Tessler’s trial. A lot of people were being called as witnesses in this trial!

Specialist Vann was a friend of mine and a medic in my unit. He was now with us. It was nice to see another familiar face. Eddie and I helped him get acclimated although he would not have to stay as long as we did.

A few days later, Chris Holmes arrived. I had to attend this court-martial. During the questioning, a specific incident was brought up. There were a few Ecstasy pills that had gotten crushed into powder. We took this powder and placed it inside the empty gelatin casing of Tylenol capsules.

This resulted in a charge of manufacturing Ecstasy. Because of this charge, Chris got sentenced to 4 years! I couldn’t believe this, he didn’t actually manufacture the drugs. We just made it so we didn’t have to snort it up our noses.

The next arrival was Specialist Bell who was also a medic in my unit. He was the other friend of Captain Tessler and had also overdosed on morphine in Panama. He was lucky to be alive. I found out something I did not know about Bell. His father, who was living in Texas, was a drug and alcohol counselor. Go figure!

Bell and Vann were going to have to be called as witnesses in Tessler’s trial. Because they bought drugs for him and partied with him, the judge was going to want to hear what they had to say.

They even brought Specialist Devin back from Ft. Leavenworth to testify against him as well. Devin used to live in Jane’s trailer and had been a mechanic in our unit. He was in a club one night and witnessed Tessler clearly losing his faculties on Ecstasy.

I guess Tessler was adamantly standing his ground on pleading not guilty to all charges against him. The Army was not taking any chances with taking down an Officer who was doing drugs. They wanted to make an example out of him.

This trial was going to be a pretty big deal. And to just think that Tessler was the one who turned in Bell and Vann. If he had never done that, his own trial would have never happened.

In the last week of March, Captain Steven Tessler had his court-martial. Because he pled not guilty, they really slammed him. He was sentenced to total forfeiture of all rank and pay. A dishonorable discharge, and seven years in confinement!

That was two years more than my sentence. Unbelievable.

He was taken up to the jail and was now a military inmate, just like the rest of us. He seemed to be taking it pretty well considering he was going away for a long time and he was sitting in jail with a bunch of inmates that had just testified against him.

The good thing for him was that Officers got a direct spot in Ft. Leavenworth. He would be taken there within days. The rest of us had to wait for a spot. Now that this trial was over and I had no more to testify in, I would be able to leave as soon as they found a place for me to go.

I talked to Devin a bit about what to expect at Ft. Leavenworth. He said it wasn’t bad at all. Everyone gets treated like humans. It was a pretty safe place if you have to be in a prison.

Everyone there was a military inmate. No civilians. It’s pretty well disciplined. So it was not like going to a federal or a state prison.

My only problem was, that even though I hadn’t been there yet, I already had a reputation as a snitch or an informant. Not a good label to have. Devin said, that no harm would come to me, but I would not be trusted for a long time.

I told him, I didn’t really care.

They took Devin back to Fort Leavenworth and they took Chris Holmes with him. Everyone else would be going either to Ft. Riley or Ft. Leavenworth around the same time.

Except Eddie, for some reason he got put on another thirty day hold.

I did not envy him.

I did not want to spend another minute in this disgusting place.

I was ready to go…

Next post, I move out of the jail but not to Fort Leavenworth…

Letters

Letters, Prayers and the Urge

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Letters seemed to get me through day by day.

They were like a small window to life outside the walls.

A form of sanity.

I was desperate to hear from family, recent friends, old friends or just anyone who would write. Especially my siblings. I wondered what they were doing or thinking about.

In late February, I received about 20 letters. It was like I hit the jackpot. I was going to need more stamps. I asked my parents to send some in their next letter.

I also needed some cash for the snack cart. This allowed me to have a break from the disgusting food I was being served every day. If we wanted cable on the television, we had to pay a fee for it.

What a racket!

I know the Army was funding our confinement, so I’m not sure how they were getting away with a cable charge to inmates?

One day a guard came and asked me what my sister’s name was. I told him Dana. Then he left. I wondered what that was all about.

Did something happen to her?

Was everything okay?

Come to find out, a friend from Houston came down to visit me and told them she was my sister. When the names didn’t match up, they told her to leave. That really sucked. It would have been nice to talk to a friend from the outside, face to face.

Writing and collect calls were fine but not the same. Missed opportunity.

About a week later letters stopped arriving. Each day in this place felt like a year so no letters for a couple days really slowed things to a halt.

I read a Bible verse in John about Jesus saying, “Whatever you ask for in my name, I will give to you.” So I prayed for just one letter to arrive on Monday to get me through.

On Monday morning, Mr. Reesey brought me nine letters!

I know now that this is not what this verse is all about but, I think God chose to bless me that day.

Maybe He didn’t want me to lose hope.

Maybe He wanted to encourage me.

Maybe He just wanted me to know that He heard me.

Not sure, but that was crazy! It got my attention.

I called Jane because I knew she had her sentencing trial. She told me that they gave her two years hard labor, suspended with three years of probation and a fine of $699.

Now that her trial was over, she was free to leave Louisiana and decided to move to Virginia with her mother and brother.

She would have to come back to testify in Captain Tessler’s trial, along with everyone involved.

March arrived and the trials were getting closer. This meant my time here was getting shorter. I could not wait to move on to Fort Leavenworth.

I mentioned to my parents that “I would be glad to get out of this rinky dink, hillbilly, hick jail!”

Eddie was starting to freak out because his girlfriend visited every Wednesday. He would not be able to see her anymore, once he was done testifying.

It was hard to keep him from getting depressed. I did the best that I could.

I might have been lying to myself at the time, but it seemed as if in almost every letter to my parents, I would state, “Don’t worry about me, I’m doing fine.”

By the end of the week, letters stopped again. So I prayed specifically for another Monday delivery.

On Monday, exactly nine more letters.

I would say I was in disbelief but actually, I was in belief!

Along with the letters I received the money my parents sent. It was great to be able to buy chocolate!

I started corresponding with a woman from Eddie’s hometown church in Georgia. Eddie told her about me and she said she wanted to write to me and pray for me. Knowing I could use all the help I could get, I said yes.

Each week she would send the church bulletin from the Sunday service. In the prayer request section I found Eddie’s name and right under his was mine.

She had the whole church praying for me. It was very humbling and I was so glad to know that people that I didn’t even know, cared enough to lift me up to God in prayer.

I’m not sure I could add up all the people that I knew were praying for me at this time in my life. Not to mention the people that I had no idea were praying as well.

It seems as if God was really sending his troops out for me.

Search and rescue mission in full force.

Every so often the Army would come get Eddie and me to do cleanup work back on Fort Polk. Mostly sweeping and mopping type jobs.

They never handcuffed us or restrained us in any way.

On one occasion, they put us in the back of a covered truck.

As we drove through the wooded country road I could feel the urge to run again.

What was stopping us from jumping out of the back of the truck and running into the woods?

I was a Scout by trade, I could navigate my way out of those woods back to some sort of transportation and then to freedom. I wanted to run and the urge was strong.

I sort of jokingly mentioned it to Eddie to see his reaction. He looked at me with kind of a confused face.

And then, I think he sensed that I might be serious. I told him it would be at least forty-five minutes before they noticed we were gone. They would have to figure out where we got out and then start searching.

We would be long gone.

Eddie looked out the back of the truck, and to the speed of the yellow lines passing beneath us.

He looked at me and then back outside.

With a sigh he said, “I can’t do it.”

I thought about it again and decided Eddie was right.

Next post:

More Army inmates brought up to the jail and the last two trials I had to attend before they transferred me.