Booted Into Shape : Crime: Young lawbreakers can choose Youth Authority camp in Whittier for a shorter, but much tougher, sentence. Other programs show mixed results on whether the military-style regimen turns around lives.

After four years in juvenile jail, Marvin Tubwell thought he knew life behind bars. He never imagined that doing time could be this hard.

Every day, Tubwell, 21, struggles over the eight-foot wall on the obstacle course outside his barracks, and pants and sweats through two-mile morning runs. He hits the floor for pushups--”zero-one-sir, zero-two-sir”--for talking during meals.

Tubwell could have served his 10-month sentence for a parole violation like most others at the Fred C. Nelles School in Whittier, which is operated by the California Youth Authority. There he could attend classes, clown around with buddies or watch television during free time each day.

But he asked for the tougher routine. Tubwell is one of 15 wards who volunteered for a military-style program at Nelles that cuts sentences and tries to straighten out young men by putting them through four grueling months of boot camp. The program is the second of two camps set up by the Youth Authority in the last year.

Counselors hope the 16-hour days--in which every minute is planned with marching, exercise, flag raisings, substance-abuse counseling and classes--will help the cadets gain respect for themselves and become responsible citizens.

Nothing from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m. is left to chance. Even two hours of recreation on Sundays is spent in organized sports such as football and basketball.

Tubwell, who only finished eighth grade, said he signed up because he wants to improve his education so he can support his three children when he gets out. A former gang member who has spent time in a group home and juvenile hall, Tubwell has lived most of the last five years at Nelles. At 16, he began serving time there for an assault conviction. He said he robbed and carjacked people because he couldn’t get a job.

He was released in September, 1992, but found himself back behind bars last month for vandalism, a violation of his parole. Now he appears eager to turn things around, raising his hand to ask questions during class.

“I need as much education as I can get,” Tubwell said. “I’m gonna make it work. Jail ain’t for me.”

All the cadets are 16 to 21, and are in custody with the Youth Authority for parole violations or because of drugs, burglary and other nonviolent offenses. Most are from broken homes and have run with gangs, used a variety of drugs and carried weapons.

At Nelles, they have no contact with other wards, living in a dorm that is fenced off from the rest of the compound.

Some joined the program because they want discipline in their lives; others see it as a quick way out of the system. “It’s short, (and) you get out easy,” said a youth who asked not to be named.

The regimented lifestyle has been anything but easy. One cadet, after his head and mustache were shaved on the first day of the program, clenched his fists and stamped the ground in protest. He got no sympathy.

“Check that attitude right now,” said a counselor who was wearing green fatigues and combat boots. “You have three seconds to get (back to the platoon).”

Cadets were ordered not to speak unless spoken to. They were issued combat boots, uniforms, and assigned steel-framed beds in a barracks with bars over the windows. There the cadets were told to sit silently at attention, with their backs straight and hands on their knees.

Some are visibly irritated by the discipline, rolling their eyes or mumbling under their breath when commanded to stand at attention or to hit the floor for pushups. Most are still trying to cope with two-minute bathroom runs, the never-ending stream of commands, the six hours of daily classes.

And the pressure won’t let up. The counselors, who are referred to as officers in the program, were trained by the California National Guard to watch the cadets’ every move.

“I am treated as though I am a robot,” one cadet complained in the daily journal he keeps as part of class. “Left flank, right flank. Eat. Go to school. Everything becomes blurry. They try to turn you into something you don’t want or are not sure you want.”

Whether Tubwell and the others succeed remains to be seen, but the odds appear stacked against them. Graduates of the state’s other boot camp, near Sacramento, appear to be returning to their criminal ways about as often as others who are released from the Youth Authority, said William Pruitt, chairman of the California Youthful Offender Parole Board.

Of 86 cadets who have completed the Northern California program in its first 10 months, about a third have violated conditions of their parole or committed subsequent offenses, he said.

Boot camps established in other states over the last decade also have had mixed results. Just more than 14% of the graduates of a similar program in Louisiana, for example, were arrested within six months of their release, about the same rate as other Louisiana parolees, according to a study by the U.S. Department of Justice.

Pruitt and others say it is too early to judge the Nelles program. Facing adversity together will teach the cadets teamwork and self-worth, things they’ll use when they hit the streets, said Capt. Mike Naquin, who heads the boot camp.

The program’s emphasis on drug counseling and practical education--including lessons on how to balance a checkbook, write a resume, interview for jobs and the effects of various drugs on the body--will help the cadets face life on the outside, Naquin said.

Each month, another platoon of 15 cadets will be added until the program has 60 members. Each platoon will help train the one that follows, Naquin said.

During the final month of the program, cadets will practice public speaking when they visit Southeast area schools to talk about the dangers of drugs and gang life. They also will perform community service, clearing trash from local parks and painting homes in the area. Parole officers will help link the cadets with jobs and counseling on the outside.

“I want them to walk out of here with a changed attitude about themselves and their place in the world,” Naquin said.

After their release, the cadets will be monitored closely for six months by parole officers.

Pruitt believes that the program graduates will stay out of trouble for longer periods than wards who do not get training and supervision. And the longer they stay crime- and drug-free, the greater chance they have of remaining so permanently, he said.

A few of the cadets believe that the strict routine will help them break with their impulsive--and criminal--habits. They are learning to understand, even appreciate, the discipline that comes with the early morning runs, the obstacle course, the pushups and the marching.

One cadet said in his daily journal: “It’s time to get on with life, because you only live once, and I’m not spending it in jail.”