A week before I retired from the United States Army I was ordered to take part in mandatory Zero Tolerance drug testing of military personnel at Fort Lewis, Washington. There was a thriving illegal drug culture in nearby Seattle.
The procedures for screening female soldiers differed from the procedures used for male soldiers, and the reason was the White Slave Act of 2000. Males who were convicted on drug charges were jailed. Females were enslaved. There was another factor stemming from the 1918 Spanish Flu pandemic: a shortage of male soldiers. Females in 2010 outnumbered males by two to one and within ten years the ratio would be three to one. From the Old School viewpoint, the fact that a quarter of the men were exclusively homosexual was the final nail in the coffin of the 1960-era mass draftee army. All of this led to men being screened separate from women.
I had spent virtually my entire career overseas. Women became a permanent part of the All Volunteer Force in the 1970’s with the end of the Draft because it was feared that there just weren’t enough male volunteers to staff the military. Gay Rights victories in the 1980’s led to openly gay men serving in uniform. Eventually the US Army decided that the Regular Army would be virtually exclusively gay men. The White Slave Act led to phasing out free women as soldiers. Think about it a moment—training future slaves to wage war isn’t that smart. But overseas the Old School died hard. So when we conducted our drug screens overseas, the entire unit was tested at once, both men and women in the same building. Overseas the unit would meet in a gym or auditorium or conference center. Everyone would remain in uniform, and when the soldiers were tested, women soldiers providing urine samples would be supervised by female non-commissioned officers in the women’s restrooms while men were supervise in the men’s room by male sergeants. The number of gay soldiers of both genders did cause some disruptions overseas, but for some reason females were not homophobic to the extent of male soldiers—openly homosexual women didn’t bother female soldiers as much as openly gay men bothered straight male soldiers.
Stateside the units were split up for screening, females reporting as individuals to the drug screen sites. Males would be screened in their barracks as a unit and females were sent to a dedicated screening building. The male soldiers would be tested the old fashioned way, wearing their uniforms and being taken one by one into a bathroom. There were strict rules of evidence followed by the screening sections.
Contrast this with the female screening. First, women were plucked from their units and sent to the centralized testing center, at least at Fort Lewis. This screening center was next to the slave training barracks, just a short march away through a covered hallway leading directly. Naturally, the door to this covered hallway was painted green. At the screening center, women were asked for their documents and offered a chance to volunteer for immediate enslavement. This differed from a normal voluntary enslavement in that the woman wasn’t required to pass a drug screen—the woman was confessing to violating military regulations by illegal drug use. No Catch 22 here—the woman could either volunteer by confessing to drug use or she could risk her urine sample not passing. There was motivation for confessing—if the woman didn’t think she could pass the drug screen. Volunteers were given a one-week orientation as a Military Person of Limited Rights (MPLR). Those involuntarily converted faced a full month’s training in the Disciplinary Barracks as slaves. There were two other incentives: volunteers were contracted for a five year release date, but involuntary conversion was for twenty years. The other incentive was that volunteers had a say—a small say—in who bought them. MPLR were used “in accordance with military requirements,” but surplus MPLR would be auctioned off.
Adding insult to injury was a 2009 Presidential Order ending the enlistment of free women in the Department of Defense. How’s that for hope and change? Women officers would still be permitted—for the present. Enlisted women currently on an enlistment contract would be permitted to finish their contracts, but would not be allowed to re-enlist. There would only be two kinds of women in the military: women officers, and enslaved women. It was because the President’s greatest opposition was the governor of Alaska. Had the former First Lady not become the First Slave and been snuffed minutes later on live television…
I reported to the screening center an hour before the first woman would be screened. To promote an illusion of fairness, we observers were on a duty roster. I was there with five other officers and non-commissioned officers to watch female soldiers fill plastic bottles with urine and then observe the urine samples be tested on the spot. Normally the unit that the soldier was assigned to would administer appropriate military justice, but the base commander of Fort Lewis had a special court martial board to immediately process those women coming up hot on their drug screen through the military justice system.
“You haven’t done this before, have you, Sergeant Thistle?” The speaker was the senior officer present, Major Smith.
“No, ma’am,” I replied. The officer in charge was a woman. She led a three-officer court martial board to process those who came up hot. It could have been an Article 15 hearing, but that’s how the Army did things, at least at Fort Lewis. “Overseas was different.”
“We will screen 60 women today,” Major Smith explained the process. “You may offer a sealed bid on any volunteer this morning. The minimum bid is a thousand dollars.”
I wasn’t easily shocked, but when the sixty women undergoing screening came in and lined up in the six ranks of ten squares and undressed , I blushed. The squares were a meter by a meter with a pair of pink footprints in the center. Two boxes were provided: a small test kit, and a box for the soldier to put her uniform in. The women lined up, put their ID cards in holders on the boxes containing the test kits, and took off their uniforms. When stripped to the skin, the boxes were sealed and placed in the left-hand corner of their square. On command, the women would open the smaller test kit box and take out the small bottle. It was a high-tech test kit, entirely self-contained.
“Before we use a test kit, any of you who wish to volunteer can bring your ID card to the front,” I announced. “You will be immediately converted.”
I was getting too old. A young soldier, Elizabeth Erin McDougal, stepped forward with her ID card in hand. She was Specialist McDougal to me, a clerk in my unit. I watched as Major Smith converted Specialist McDougal from soldier to MPLR Erin, and I filled out a bid card and sealed it in an envelope. Erin would have to undergo orientation, but I hoped to spare her the ordeal of being auctioned off. I hoped I could save her from a bad owner.
I’ll admit it. Erin is a cutie. I could describe her in the Metric System but most of you wouldn’t understand, so I’ll start with her being red headed with blue eyes and 100 well-muscled pounds, five foot two inches with a 32C-24-32 figure. Military personnel are required to remove all body hair—the methods used are up to the soldier. Erin’s breasts were perfect hemispheres—cosmetic surgery had come a long way since paraffin injections. Erin did sport freckles, and at Orientation all MPLR have their scalps shaved. It’s an Army thing. She used to have shoulder-length reddish brown hair, the color of a red fox’s fur.
Erin was also a trained soldier. She was a skilled clerk in a military intelligence section investigating the evolution of the effects of that 1918 Spanish Flu epidemic. I would find Erin’s skill set very useful during my retirement.
The remaining women squatted on command and filled their test kit bottles right there on the gym floor in full view of us witnesses. The procedure was for the observer to move in front of the naked woman one by one and watch the urine stream from the genitals to the bottle. The bottle would be capped and handed to the observer, who would then invert the test kit and initiate the test. Sixty seconds later the kit would either come up negative or positive for nine different drug compounds. Cocaine, THC, opiates, and amphetamines were some of the compounds. I didn’t find any violators, but two more women were flex-cuffed and moved to the court martial board for immediate processing.
Civilians may ask about pregnancy screening. Female soldiers were tested monthly for pregnancy. By contract, females in the military may only become pregnant with the permission of their commanding officer. Those that become pregnant in violation of their contract are treated as if they were unmarried daughters who had become pregnant to prevent their parents from enslaving them.
So none of these soldiers were pregnant. They had passed their monthly pregnancy screen.
The women who had passed their drug screen were allowed to put their uniforms back on. The three new slaves were cuffed and naked.
“Sergeant Thistle,” Major Smith ordered, “Escort these three to MPLR Intake.”
That’s how Erin became a slave. I escorted the three new military slaves through the green door, down a long corridor and to a second door. There, a stocky woman in a lime green slave dress took control of the three. The corridor was even longer going the other way. The windows were translucent because Fort Lewis, like other federal reservations, had rules about naked slaves. It was another Army thing. No, the slave wasn’t punished if she was naked on Federal property—the owner was fined. Persons of Limited Rights are not legally human any longer. However, slaves on Fort Lewis were required to have their naughty bits covered except in designated areas in order to “promote good order and discipline.” Besides, over eighty percent of the Regular Army was gay men. Many gay men found naked females a revolting sight.
I bid $3000 on her and she became MY slave. Erin was up for “adoption” and my $3000 would buy her services for the next five years—after she finished Orientation.
Normal Persons of Limited Rights are enslaved for the rest of their lives—unless their owners release them. Yes, some Persons of Limited Rights do volunteer for finite periods. If their owner honors their contract, all is well. If not, the slave had better have an underwriter to fight for her because slaves cannot fight for themselves! In the case of the MPLR, the Department of Defense is obligated to make sure that the slave is released and that her manumission fund is paid to her.
That fund isn’t much. The standard fund is $500, not really enough for one month’s living expenses—oh, yes, the woman also gets one set of clothes. The owner was supposed to post at least $500 in escrow when picking up the new slave.
Five years, minus a week in orientation. And Erin would be available the day I retired!