NORTH VERNON, Ind. — It began as a reform school, the Indiana Farm Colony for Feeble Minded Boys. Later, it became one of the state’s largest mental institutions with 3,000 patients and some 2,000 employees.
Today, the Muscatatuck Urban Training Center, operated by the Indiana National Guard, hosts everyone from police and fire departments to Navy sea, air and land commandos who use its collection of art-moderne buildings built in the 1930s as a backdrop to practice their skills.
“Everything is in play here,” said Staff Sgt. Brad Staggs, the public affairs officer for the facility. The night before, he was awoken to the sounds of SEALs setting off smoke bombs and firing their weapons outside his temporary housing.
The commandos, who have to know how to pick locks, are free to practice that skill on any building at any time, he said.
Any first responder, civilian or military unit is welcome to use the 1,000-acre grounds free of charge as long as they pay for their own supplies and they agree to fix anything they break.
Muscatatuck began its second life as a training center after the state decided to close down the mental institution in 2005. New methods to treat mental illnesses that didn’t require large facilities had whittled its patient population down to about 12.
There was a plan to raze the buildings and plant a tree farm, but the Guard stepped in and said they would take the land over.
“We’re building it as a non-service-centric entity,” said Brig. Gen. Clif Tooley, commanding general of Muscatatuck Center for Complex Operations. Training at Army, Marine, Air Force or Navy facilities tends to be molded toward that particular service. This is a place where civilians preparing to deploy overseas, for example, can come in and create their program according to their own objectives, instead of the military’s, he said. He sees the center as a “shopping mall” for training, where organizations can choose between any number of scenarios.
The land has dozens of buildings, including a hospital, a coal-burning power plant, steam tunnels, dormitories for patients and staff, residences for the directors and a cafeteria. Most of these buildings have been left as is, Staggs explained. When the State Department sends civilians to train as members of provincial reconstruction teams they find an 80-year-old hospital that has peeling paint, similar to what they might encounter in Afghanistan. One of the oldest buildings, a former ballroom, has collapsed from neglect. That has been left in place. It can be used for search-and-rescue missions. It also serves as backdrop during a scenario where an Afghan home has been accidentally destroyed by an errant Air Force bomb.
A wooded campground built nearby in the 1950s has also been transformed into a mock forward operating base.
The one thing the Indiana National Guard didn’t have was funds to develop the grounds. Those have come from a variety of sources including U.S. Northern Command, and the Departments of Homeland Security and State.
Along with the Depression-era buildings, new training structures are going up.
A block-long mock Afghan market and four Afghan homes are new additions. An overpass was also constructed since most military units now need to know how to fight around roads with bridges. A burn tower where fire departments can practice rescues sits along one of the roads. Workers are constructing a shoothouse for firearm practice, although no live ammunition can be used on the facility because of its proximity to residential areas.
A newly built “destroyed” structure is nearing completion. This fake parking garage is intentionally designed to look as if it fell victim to an earthquake, bombing, or other disaster. When finished, it will be crammed with demolished cars so first responders can practice extraction techniques.
There are also plans to build a mock subway tunnel that can be flooded, a soccer stadium and a religious building, where soldiers and civilians can practice entering in a respectful way. Staggs was at pains not to refer to it as a mosque.
Most of the grounds look trashed. Abandoned cars and broken concrete line the old roads. That is on purpose, Staggs said. Northcom holds an annual disaster exercise here in the summer with about 4,000 participants. The junkers and other trash are placed on the roads to simulate a nuclear bomb scenario. Rescuers must clear the road before entering the grounds. Last year, organizers complained that there weren’t enough obstructions.
Muscatatuck relies on donations to simulate the chaos. Concrete companies have given the facility chunks of cement that don’t pass inspection so they can be used in rubble piles. Rescue dogs can practice searching for victims there.
Local county jails have also donated prison cells that they want to replace. Removing the all-metal cells can cost a small town about $60,000, Staggs said. The Guard provides the labor and removes them for free. Military police and others have used them to practice prisoner detentions and extractions. One of the cells reportedly held the bank robber John Dillinger in the 1930s.
“But about half the small town jails in Indiana make that claim,” Staggs noted.