The Camp Ch. 04: Gunny Rob

"None at all, you gave excellent directions," I said.

"Good," he said. "Before we get too deep in things, let me tell you a little more about the men who come here. Every man who comes through that gate is a victim. They've all been cheated on and quite a few of them have been abused in one way or another. Sometimes the abuse is physical. Almost every man who comes here has been abused emotionally. In other cases, they've suffered both physical and emotional abuse. That's on top of being cuckolded and humiliated." I could relate to that. He continued.

"On top of that, these men are what you might think of as 'wimps.' I know in this day and age, we're not supposed to use terms like that, but I believe in straight talk," he said. "Most of the men who come here are weak, both physically and emotionally. Some of them are also frightened and they feel they have no one else to turn to for help. Unfortunately, the women they've chosen to attach themselves to take advantage of that."

"Wow," I said, shocked at what he told me. "So, what do you do?"

"The first thing we do is make them focus and build them up physically," John said. "We take away their access to the Internet and we don't allow any electronics -- cell phones, laptops, tablets, you name it. For the three months they're here, the Internet doesn't exist. That means no email, no Facebook, no YouTube, nothing." I laughed.

"I bet that goes over well," I said sarcastically. He laughed.

"Sometimes," he said. "Before coming here, some of these guys spent their whole day looking at their cell phones, completely oblivious to the world around them. We take that away from them and force them to confront their problems."

"So how do they stay in contact with their families?" I asked.

"That's a valid question," John said. "We give them a post office box address they can send home. Any communication is done through regular mail. We have mail drops in Bonners Ferry and Clark Fork and mail is delivered twice a week."

"That's a long way to get mail," I said. John nodded his head.

"We don't want spouses sending people up to cause trouble," he said. "We have armed guards, helicopters and an electronic security perimeter around the camp. If anyone tries to get in, we'll know about it."

"Has anyone ever tried to break in?" I asked.

"It's been attempted," John said. "Fortunately, we were able to neutralize the threat. There's an unclassified briefing on that in the packet I'll be sending home with you." Neutralized, I thought to myself. An interesting term, to say the least. I couldn't help but wonder what he meant by that.

"So tell me more about the training itself," I said.

"I'll give you a brief overview. It's all spelled out in the packet I'll be sending home with you. The first month is the hardest for the students," John explained. "In addition to being weaned off modern electronics and the Internet, they undergo rigorous physical training, very much like the first phase of your recruit training. Their day starts at 0500 with Reveille, they double-time everywhere and the instructors are quite forceful, if you know what I mean.

"The second month is where we introduce the students to their counselors," John said. "They undergo very intensive counseling to face their issues. Of course, the physical training continues and we start teaching them self defense. The third month, we intensify all of that and introduce them to lawyers to take care of whatever legal issues they may have." He looked at his watch before continuing.

"As a matter of fact, there's a group session taking place right now. You may find this interesting," he said.

"Sure," I said. We left his office and walked to another building. Opening the door, he motioned for me to enter first. When I stepped inside, I saw a group of men sitting in a semicircle in front of a female counselor. The instructor sitting by the door stood as John entered, then nodded at me and sat back down. We took our seats in the back of the room and quietly watched.

One of the students was recalling how his wife had forced him to service her lovers, both orally and anally, as she laughed and belittled his prowess as a man. He broke down crying, and the students on either side of him patted him on the shoulder, telling him he would be alright. I looked at the instructor, a big man wearing sergeant's chevrons on his collar.

He sat there stoically, taking it all in. I could see his jaw clench in anger as the student cried. As the counselor spoke to the student, I made up my mind to join this organization. If there was anything I could do to help these poor men, I would do it.

After listening to more of the counseling session, John motioned to me and we left. He took me around the camp, showing me what they had to offer. From there, we went to the instructor's hut, a building where the instructors gathered to keep up on the latest information. There were several men, all wearing the same khaki shirts as John. Some wore sergeant's chevrons, and a few wore the rank insignia of a staff sergeant. John had them gather in the main part of the hut and introduced me to them.

We talked for a while and I learned that about half were former Marine drill instructors, and about half were former Army drill sergeants. From the conversation, I could tell these men were a tight-knit group and they really cared about the well-being of their students.

"So, are you looking to come on board?" one of them asked me. I looked at John before answering.

"As a matter of fact, I am," I said. John smiled before speaking.

"I've asked John to be our new senior instructor," John said. "He's currently on terminal leave, so it'll be a while before he's here full-time. In the meantime, I'd like for him to spend some time here, get to know everyone." The others nodded their head in approval.

"Welcome aboard, Gunny," one of them said, shaking my hand. The others followed suit.

"Thanks," I said. From there, John and I walked back to his office, talking about the job and the work being done at the camp.

"So," John said. "Are you in?" I nodded my head.

"I am, John," I said. He smiled and shook my hand.

"Welcome aboard," he said. "If you don't mind my asking, what made you decide to join us?"

"Listening to that man in the counseling session," I said. "I never knew stuff like that actually happened. I thought it just something you read about on the Internet."

"Yeah," John said. "It's a lot more prevalent than people know. By the way, I suppose I should make you an official offer," he said, laughing. He handed me a piece of paper and I nearly fell over when I saw what the company was offering -- a salary that was far higher than I made in the Corps along with a benefit package to die for. Of course I accepted the offer.

"Good," John said, handing me a pile of binders. "Some light reading to get you through the next few weeks." I laughed. "Feel free to come out any time you want. You'll definitely want to come out for the 'burn the bitch' ceremony."

"The what?" I asked.

"It's something we do at the end of every class," he said. "I think you'll enjoy it."

After saying our goodbyes, I took the pile of binders and headed home.

The next three weeks went by fast. Lisa got the divorce and signed them right away, not contesting anything. The lawyer called me and said my divorce would be final in 30 days. Judy filed for divorce against Elroy, but hers would take longer -- at least 90 days -- since she filed in her home state of Washington.

I never heard from Lisa again, and really didn't care to. Her parents came by about two weeks after I filed for divorce and picked up what few items she wanted from the house along with the rest of her stuff. I gave them the cashier's check for her portion of the bank accounts along with all the pictures we had that included her. I wanted nothing around that would remind me of her. According to Lisa's mother, she was too embarrassed to face me. Somehow, I wasn't surprised.

Judy, however, had spent the last three weekends at my place and we had a great time. I took her fishing on Lake Pend O'Reille, and she had a lot of fun. Lisa never cared much for that, but Judy took right to it, eagerly cleaning and cooking the string of kokanee salmon we caught.

I made it a point to visit the camp a couple times a week and visited with each of the instructors. I learned that all of them were combat veterans and were divorced, although a couple of them were pursing new relationships. I also sat in on several more group counseling sessions, just to get a feel for what had driven the students to come here in the first place. I had to admit, their stories tugged at my heart.

I also learned what brought about the tight security on the camp. From what I was able to put together, a student had been targeted by an organization called MMAS. He escaped his wife and came to the camp, but the organization was set on bringing him back. They even went so far as to attempt an armed incursion into the camp, but the effort was foiled, thanks to the camp's guards and a federal agency I had never heard of before.

As a result, the company established new policies stating that the agency would be contacted if MMAS was ever mentioned by a prospective student. From what I read, the agency had been called twice in the last year.

Close to the end of the month, John invited me to come witness a "burn the bitch" ceremony, which marked the end of a three-month class. I put on my class "C" uniform and headed out. The ceremony was conducted at night and I stood back with John and observed.

As I watched, the students in the class attached pictures of their wives on a straw figure, which was then raised up and attached to a pole with rope. A pile of wood was at the base of the pole. One of the students was called out and handed a lit torch.

"Burn the bitch!" the instructor commanded.

"Sir! Burn the bitch! Aye, aye, sir!" the student responded. He lit the pile of wood, and the fire quickly engulfed the straw figure. The students began chanting, "burn, burn, burn!" As the figure burned, the students went wild, pumping their fists into the air, howling and chanting. When the figure fell on the ground, the students danced and chanted and some urinated on the figure. This went on for some time until the figure was reduced to ashes.

"What's the purpose of this?" I asked John.

"This little ceremony gives the men a sense of closure," he explained. "It's a way of cleaning themselves of what's been tormenting them without visiting actual violence on their spouses. They'll graduate from here tomorrow, ready to handle whatever life may throw at them. Just think -- three months ago, they came here as wimpy cuckolds. Tomorrow, they leave as men." I could understand that. For a moment, I imagined Lisa was the one tied up being burned to ash. The thought made me smile to myself.

"How are things on the home front?" John asked.

"Good," I said. "The divorce will be final in a few days."

"How are you holding up?" he asked. I nodded my head.

"I'm doing good," I said. "A lot better than I thought I would."

"That's good to hear," he told me. "I understand your terminal leave is over in a few days."

"Yes," I said. "Three days to be exact."

"Excellent," he said. "Then I expect you'll be available to greet our new students. They'll be here in four days. By the way, you'll need these," he added, reaching into his pocket. He handed me a small box. I opened it to find a set of highly polished metal chevrons.

"Sergeant Major?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "Denoting your status as the senior instructor. Congratulations."

"Thanks," I said. He smiled.

"No," he said. "Thank you."

I spent the next four days with Judy. Elroy had offered to buy out her half of their house and she accepted. Apparently, he planned to move Lisa in to live with him and she was eager to get out of the place. I offered to let her move in with me and she eagerly accepted, so I rented a trailer and moved what she wanted out of their old house and brought it all back to my place. It would be tight for a while, but I knew we would be able to get things under control.

Judy watched as I dressed for my first full day at the camp, then fed me a breakfast fit for a king. She handed me a thermos of coffee and kissed me as I walked out the door.

"Go get 'em, tiger," she said with a smile.

"I will," I said, kissing her back. I didn't know where things would lead with Judy, but I was certainly willing to give it a shot. So far, she had managed to fill the void left by Lisa and I couldn't remember when I had been so content.

I got to the camp and made my way to receiving. I checked myself in the mirror, adjusted my campaign cover over my eyes and stepped out on the porch overlooking the group of men standing on the footprints.

"Oh. My. Fucking. Gawd," I yelled, looking over the small group of men standing in the lot. "How in the hell do they expect me to make men when they won't even send me human fucking beings to start with? This is the sorriest collection of illiterate cum bubbles I have ever seen in my entire fucking life! Christ on a fucking bicycle!" I spoke to the sergeant overseeing the new arrivals. "Get this sorry-assed bunch out of my sight and get them processed before I start cussing!"

"Yes, Sergeant," the other man said before walking the group to processing. After they left, I turned around and saw John. He was smiling from ear to ear.

"Nicely done," he said. "Welcome to Camp Rollins."