Female Test Program 811X0: Forgotten History
By L.G. Blake (former SSgt, USAF)
"to be accepted by me, she’ll need to be able to piss her name in the snow... “I’ll get rid of her in the first 90 days…” 321 MSS Flight Chief, 1977."
First, I not only pissed my first name in the snow at Charlie site – I did it in cursive.
Second, he tried multiple times to Article 15 me and failed each time.
Third, yes I still remember his full rank and last name.
All you ever hear about are the women who became pilots. While that is indeed an accomplishment, it overshadows other groups of brave women who also made history. There is another group of women who made history but are vanishing into obscurity – those who crossed into the all-male clubs and became “boots on the ground,” paving the way for women to prove their worth in combat roles and on fire teams.
November 1971, The USAF graduated the first female Security Police Law Enforcement from the Security Police Academy at Lackland, AFB, TX.
November 1976, the USAF accepted the first class of females into the 811X0 Test Program – for Security Police, a front line combat field. More than 1,000 women entered the program. About 100 actually graduated the SP Academy and Camp Bullis ABGD in Texas to be assigned CONUS and OCONUS. March 31, 1978, the USAF ended the 811X0 Female Test Program. It’s been 40 years and of those few brave women, I am one who remembers it clearly.
Half-way through BMTS when we were being evaluated for different career fields I was interviewed for two special ones – cryptology and a new test program for women in a combat field, Security Police (811X0). I’d entered the USAF to become an Administrative specialist but these were much more inviting. After testing for crypto I decided I’d go insane listening to beeps all day and nixed that one quick. My interview for the 811X0 test program was exceptionally interesting. They were fixated on whether I could pull the trigger on a human. My responses must have been what they needed because a few days later my new AFSC became 811X0. At the time I didn’t think much about entering a predominantly male career field. I was born and raised in SE Utah where women did what the men did side-by-side on farms, ranches, and in the mines. The cowgirl in me was used to being equal with men already.
I didn’t realize the extent of the challenge that lay ahead of me.
In the late 70s the Cultural Revolution for women did not extend to the U.S. Military as it did across the country. Women in the military wore bras and unless you wanted a “blanket party” you did not admit to being anything but heterosexual. I was brought up being equal to men in all ways except strength. I could hunt, track better than most, and pull a full day’s work alongside the men in my family just like a man. This made my transition into the new 811X0 career field more difficult. I was not prepared for the extent of mistrust, dislike, and malice towards women entering an all-male career field. On entering the USAF SP Academy I realized I needed to adjust my own attitude and set some self-imposed goals up front.
Goal number one: Earn the respect of my male comrades.
Goal number two: Be the absolute best at whatever they throw my way.
Goal number three: Survive mentally and physically.
To do this I borrowed from ancient history and Native American traditions. I changed my own mentality by adopting an attitude of “warrior.”
In ancient times there were female warriors in the ranks and in command. I had to adjust my own thought processes to be just like them. My new mantra became, “doing manly things in a manly way,” without gender. When I put on my uniform I adjusted my way of thinking – I was no longer female, nor was I male– I was simply a warrior in the ranks of other warriors. I talked like the men, joked like the men, peed like the men when the occasion required it. When I took that uniform off and left my virtual balls in the locker, I reestablished my femininity. Other than joining flight members in the occasional night of drunken debauchery off base, a ski trip or two, I did my best to keep my personal life away from the men I had to live, work, and fight with.
Camp Bullis, TX
I graduated the SP Academy and entered ABDG (combat training) at Camp Bullis, TX in February 1977. That’s before the nice little houses – when it was “tent city.” They had segregated the female tents and latrine away from everyone else’s tents so we were already fighting the uphill battle for respect. In some respects more was expected from us than our male counterparts which added to the burden. And I must admit there were women there that absolutely did not belong.
I recall maneuvers where we had to dismount from a deuce-and-a-half in full gear. It was rainy and muddy. We are all doing our best to do a rapid deploy when the chick in front of me (yes, I remember who she was) had the nerve to request help from the instructor to dismount! I saw RED! I planted my special order 4.5 boys size combat boot right on her ass and pushed her out of the way mumbling something like bitch, you’ll get people killed one day. I was surprised I didn’t get yelled at by the instructor. Made me understand the term “fracking them” from Nam. She didn’t belong then and she didn’t belong later when we had to share a barracks room at our first base of assignment. (I heard she became an LE when the 811 program ended.)
I am not aware of other women’s experiences during Bullis but I do recall that the females in my class were not given roles of leadership. In fact, we were given the crap positions. During our final exercise (a full-blown ABGD mock battle) I was assigned to carry an M-60 with all the additional gear and take up a perimeter post along a wash – in addition to my battle gear and M-16 with extra mags. The instructor who occasionally thought to look for me and check on my skills was relentless. But growing up out west with real Native Americans and all I celebrated when he could not “find” me. At one point I was tired of the game of hide and seek so I sought a place I knew he’d never find me. While he was off checking someone else I hauled all of my crap up into the trees. When the “enemy” approached I murdered them all. I think I pissed off my shadow instructor because he finally demanded I reveal where I was in an agitated voice. “Up here,” I replied with a smirk. He freaked out demanding to know who helped me up there and was silent when I said no one. Hours later he helped me run from the flash flood that threatened my little wash – the exercise was over, we had won.
Oh. Forgot to tell you. I’m a slip of a thing really. All of 5’4” and used to standing up for myself no matter how big the opposition is. I BARELY made the height minimum for the career field.
Through my experiences at the SP Academy and Camp Bullis I realized I had crossed a line and entered an all-male club to which I was extremely unwelcome. That “getting respect” thing was going to be very, very hard.
First Assignment – Northern Tier
Before Camp Bullis I was supposed to be bound for Saudi Arabia – until they realized I was female. So orders changed and I was headed to Arizona. A week before graduating Camp Bullis it changed again and the final winner was Grand Forks AFB, ND. I was sorely hoping for warm places, high deserts, mountains… Instead, I got a glacier. In retrospect I am proud to have been “SACumcized” at the beginning of my military career. It made me stronger than I already was. However, my reception at my new unit was even colder than winters in that state of our nation. Before I’d arrived leadership at all levels had decided I was an interloper and needed to be eliminated.
My first assignment was to the missile wing where for days we babysat Minuteman III missile silos and the capsule crews. I think my absolute favorite person in that entire flight was Sgt Beasley – my SAT Leader. He took me under his wing in spite of everyone and taught me what I needed to know. He even helped me at the gym and taught me to lift weights so I could toss the SAT box into the back of our truck on a run. That nearly cost me a career though – I didn’t learn until much later that the way men lift weights is different than what I should do. I gained about 30 lbs of muscle weight that just wouldn’t come off for several years. But that is a different story for another time.
Life in the missile field wasn’t too harsh but it wasn’t great sometimes. When so few are kept in close quarters for hours on end you actually have to communicate. Eventually I earned the trust and respect of those on my flight. And it was mutual. They didn’t have separate facilities for us on those sites. One bathroom with a toilet, two urinals, and two showers – that was it. Everyone respected each other enough to not “peak” and kept our “business” private when needed. There was a sign I could flip if I needed to use the toilet and I used it trust me. But there were times when showers had to be done quickly – long as everyone stayed covered up outside that shower stall it was no big deal.
SSgt Minton was another good guy. He was our CSC for most of our tours in the field. I know he stood up for me a few times. He was on duty the day I blew up the clearing barrel. Yes. That was me. I was leaving early to travel to Utah and bring my children to live with me permanently. I was over rambunctious clearing my M-16 and ended up expending a round into it. Minton and others claimed that’s what it was there for. My flight chief wanted to fry me for it but by the time I returned to the base with the kids, the problem had gone away. I requested transfer to Aircraft Security and received it. So my new adventures were on the flight line.
Unfortunately the women who had arrived before me soiled the opinions of the men in the new squadron. I guess too many of them tried to pull the “girl” card. It took a while to prove myself yet again in that environment too. But the guys on my new flight eventually accepted me as one of them and made life great.
Was there harassment? Of course there was.
Did I ever not feel safe? Never. I was just as deadly as they were.
Did I ever have to fight someone off? Yup. Not one was an SP, LE, or related field.
I’ve had to be dug out of snow banks by civil engineering.
I’ve had to wear an extra belt made of sand bags to weight me down so I didn’t blow away.
I’ve been fired on. I’ve put politicians face first in the mud and snow because they misauthenticated.
But I’ve never had a job before or since that has been as fulfilling.
I’ve never found that singular comradery across the spectrum – even when the program ended and I moved into a new field. In March 1978 the test program was ended.
Many of us did not want that but politicians thought the country wasn’t ready even though we’d proven it would work after weeding out the ones who couldn’t do the job. Several of the women at my base went to the LE side. I could not. I was marrying someone in the squadron and since he would be in a position to be my direct chain of command I had to pick something else. I went into Public Affairs but I NEVER let go of my badge, my beret, or my brothers and sisters in that field. In fact, when I left they let me keep my badge permanently. That and my hard earned blue beret sit in a lock box to keep them safe.
n January 1985, the secretary of the Air Force lifted the ban on women in the security field. In February 1985, the first female security specialist since 1976 entered the career field. Women now serve in security forces throughout the career field, including security forces managers and Air Force major command. Another milestone was reached in 2006 when the first female Security Forces general officer, Brigadier General (now Major General) Mary Kay Hertog, was selected as USAF Director of Security Forces.
About the same time we were getting the first female Security Forces officer, my grandchildren were proud to point out my accomplishments to their classmates every time they visited the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. You see, my picture, my best buddy’s picture, and the history of what we’d accomplished at the end of the Vietnam War had its own section in the Museum of American History. In 2017 my daughter called me frantic. Her son was graduating BMTS at Lackland so they went to visit the Security Police Museum there and hoped to take pictures in front of any display that held the history of we women who accomplished so much.
Nothing. There was a single picture of women no one ever heard of. No list of graduates. No list of women who successfully began the program and saw it through to the end.
History is important. Not just to me and my family but to our Nation. It should not be forgotten but dusted off every now and then to embolden new generations to do it better. I don’t know if that display is still at the Smithsonian, but one day I’ll visit it just to see.
Second, he tried multiple times to Article 15 me and failed each time.
Third, yes I still remember his full rank and last name.
All you ever hear about are the women who became pilots. While that is indeed an accomplishment, it overshadows other groups of brave women who also made history. There is another group of women who made history but are vanishing into obscurity – those who crossed into the all-male clubs and became “boots on the ground,” paving the way for women to prove their worth in combat roles and on fire teams.
November 1971, The USAF graduated the first female Security Police Law Enforcement from the Security Police Academy at Lackland, AFB, TX.
November 1976, the USAF accepted the first class of females into the 811X0 Test Program – for Security Police, a front line combat field. More than 1,000 women entered the program. About 100 actually graduated the SP Academy and Camp Bullis ABGD in Texas to be assigned CONUS and OCONUS. March 31, 1978, the USAF ended the 811X0 Female Test Program. It’s been 40 years and of those few brave women, I am one who remembers it clearly.
Half-way through BMTS when we were being evaluated for different career fields I was interviewed for two special ones – cryptology and a new test program for women in a combat field, Security Police (811X0). I’d entered the USAF to become an Administrative specialist but these were much more inviting. After testing for crypto I decided I’d go insane listening to beeps all day and nixed that one quick. My interview for the 811X0 test program was exceptionally interesting. They were fixated on whether I could pull the trigger on a human. My responses must have been what they needed because a few days later my new AFSC became 811X0. At the time I didn’t think much about entering a predominantly male career field. I was born and raised in SE Utah where women did what the men did side-by-side on farms, ranches, and in the mines. The cowgirl in me was used to being equal with men already.
I didn’t realize the extent of the challenge that lay ahead of me.
In the late 70s the Cultural Revolution for women did not extend to the U.S. Military as it did across the country. Women in the military wore bras and unless you wanted a “blanket party” you did not admit to being anything but heterosexual. I was brought up being equal to men in all ways except strength. I could hunt, track better than most, and pull a full day’s work alongside the men in my family just like a man. This made my transition into the new 811X0 career field more difficult. I was not prepared for the extent of mistrust, dislike, and malice towards women entering an all-male career field. On entering the USAF SP Academy I realized I needed to adjust my own attitude and set some self-imposed goals up front.
Goal number one: Earn the respect of my male comrades.
Goal number two: Be the absolute best at whatever they throw my way.
Goal number three: Survive mentally and physically.
To do this I borrowed from ancient history and Native American traditions. I changed my own mentality by adopting an attitude of “warrior.”
In ancient times there were female warriors in the ranks and in command. I had to adjust my own thought processes to be just like them. My new mantra became, “doing manly things in a manly way,” without gender. When I put on my uniform I adjusted my way of thinking – I was no longer female, nor was I male– I was simply a warrior in the ranks of other warriors. I talked like the men, joked like the men, peed like the men when the occasion required it. When I took that uniform off and left my virtual balls in the locker, I reestablished my femininity. Other than joining flight members in the occasional night of drunken debauchery off base, a ski trip or two, I did my best to keep my personal life away from the men I had to live, work, and fight with.
Camp Bullis, TX
I graduated the SP Academy and entered ABDG (combat training) at Camp Bullis, TX in February 1977. That’s before the nice little houses – when it was “tent city.” They had segregated the female tents and latrine away from everyone else’s tents so we were already fighting the uphill battle for respect. In some respects more was expected from us than our male counterparts which added to the burden. And I must admit there were women there that absolutely did not belong.
I recall maneuvers where we had to dismount from a deuce-and-a-half in full gear. It was rainy and muddy. We are all doing our best to do a rapid deploy when the chick in front of me (yes, I remember who she was) had the nerve to request help from the instructor to dismount! I saw RED! I planted my special order 4.5 boys size combat boot right on her ass and pushed her out of the way mumbling something like bitch, you’ll get people killed one day. I was surprised I didn’t get yelled at by the instructor. Made me understand the term “fracking them” from Nam. She didn’t belong then and she didn’t belong later when we had to share a barracks room at our first base of assignment. (I heard she became an LE when the 811 program ended.)
I am not aware of other women’s experiences during Bullis but I do recall that the females in my class were not given roles of leadership. In fact, we were given the crap positions. During our final exercise (a full-blown ABGD mock battle) I was assigned to carry an M-60 with all the additional gear and take up a perimeter post along a wash – in addition to my battle gear and M-16 with extra mags. The instructor who occasionally thought to look for me and check on my skills was relentless. But growing up out west with real Native Americans and all I celebrated when he could not “find” me. At one point I was tired of the game of hide and seek so I sought a place I knew he’d never find me. While he was off checking someone else I hauled all of my crap up into the trees. When the “enemy” approached I murdered them all. I think I pissed off my shadow instructor because he finally demanded I reveal where I was in an agitated voice. “Up here,” I replied with a smirk. He freaked out demanding to know who helped me up there and was silent when I said no one. Hours later he helped me run from the flash flood that threatened my little wash – the exercise was over, we had won.
Oh. Forgot to tell you. I’m a slip of a thing really. All of 5’4” and used to standing up for myself no matter how big the opposition is. I BARELY made the height minimum for the career field.
Through my experiences at the SP Academy and Camp Bullis I realized I had crossed a line and entered an all-male club to which I was extremely unwelcome. That “getting respect” thing was going to be very, very hard.
First Assignment – Northern Tier
Before Camp Bullis I was supposed to be bound for Saudi Arabia – until they realized I was female. So orders changed and I was headed to Arizona. A week before graduating Camp Bullis it changed again and the final winner was Grand Forks AFB, ND. I was sorely hoping for warm places, high deserts, mountains… Instead, I got a glacier. In retrospect I am proud to have been “SACumcized” at the beginning of my military career. It made me stronger than I already was. However, my reception at my new unit was even colder than winters in that state of our nation. Before I’d arrived leadership at all levels had decided I was an interloper and needed to be eliminated.
My first assignment was to the missile wing where for days we babysat Minuteman III missile silos and the capsule crews. I think my absolute favorite person in that entire flight was Sgt Beasley – my SAT Leader. He took me under his wing in spite of everyone and taught me what I needed to know. He even helped me at the gym and taught me to lift weights so I could toss the SAT box into the back of our truck on a run. That nearly cost me a career though – I didn’t learn until much later that the way men lift weights is different than what I should do. I gained about 30 lbs of muscle weight that just wouldn’t come off for several years. But that is a different story for another time.
Life in the missile field wasn’t too harsh but it wasn’t great sometimes. When so few are kept in close quarters for hours on end you actually have to communicate. Eventually I earned the trust and respect of those on my flight. And it was mutual. They didn’t have separate facilities for us on those sites. One bathroom with a toilet, two urinals, and two showers – that was it. Everyone respected each other enough to not “peak” and kept our “business” private when needed. There was a sign I could flip if I needed to use the toilet and I used it trust me. But there were times when showers had to be done quickly – long as everyone stayed covered up outside that shower stall it was no big deal.
SSgt Minton was another good guy. He was our CSC for most of our tours in the field. I know he stood up for me a few times. He was on duty the day I blew up the clearing barrel. Yes. That was me. I was leaving early to travel to Utah and bring my children to live with me permanently. I was over rambunctious clearing my M-16 and ended up expending a round into it. Minton and others claimed that’s what it was there for. My flight chief wanted to fry me for it but by the time I returned to the base with the kids, the problem had gone away. I requested transfer to Aircraft Security and received it. So my new adventures were on the flight line.
Unfortunately the women who had arrived before me soiled the opinions of the men in the new squadron. I guess too many of them tried to pull the “girl” card. It took a while to prove myself yet again in that environment too. But the guys on my new flight eventually accepted me as one of them and made life great.
Was there harassment? Of course there was.
Did I ever not feel safe? Never. I was just as deadly as they were.
Did I ever have to fight someone off? Yup. Not one was an SP, LE, or related field.
I’ve had to be dug out of snow banks by civil engineering.
I’ve had to wear an extra belt made of sand bags to weight me down so I didn’t blow away.
I’ve been fired on. I’ve put politicians face first in the mud and snow because they misauthenticated.
But I’ve never had a job before or since that has been as fulfilling.
I’ve never found that singular comradery across the spectrum – even when the program ended and I moved into a new field. In March 1978 the test program was ended.
Many of us did not want that but politicians thought the country wasn’t ready even though we’d proven it would work after weeding out the ones who couldn’t do the job. Several of the women at my base went to the LE side. I could not. I was marrying someone in the squadron and since he would be in a position to be my direct chain of command I had to pick something else. I went into Public Affairs but I NEVER let go of my badge, my beret, or my brothers and sisters in that field. In fact, when I left they let me keep my badge permanently. That and my hard earned blue beret sit in a lock box to keep them safe.
n January 1985, the secretary of the Air Force lifted the ban on women in the security field. In February 1985, the first female security specialist since 1976 entered the career field. Women now serve in security forces throughout the career field, including security forces managers and Air Force major command. Another milestone was reached in 2006 when the first female Security Forces general officer, Brigadier General (now Major General) Mary Kay Hertog, was selected as USAF Director of Security Forces.
About the same time we were getting the first female Security Forces officer, my grandchildren were proud to point out my accomplishments to their classmates every time they visited the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. You see, my picture, my best buddy’s picture, and the history of what we’d accomplished at the end of the Vietnam War had its own section in the Museum of American History. In 2017 my daughter called me frantic. Her son was graduating BMTS at Lackland so they went to visit the Security Police Museum there and hoped to take pictures in front of any display that held the history of we women who accomplished so much.
Nothing. There was a single picture of women no one ever heard of. No list of graduates. No list of women who successfully began the program and saw it through to the end.
History is important. Not just to me and my family but to our Nation. It should not be forgotten but dusted off every now and then to embolden new generations to do it better. I don’t know if that display is still at the Smithsonian, but one day I’ll visit it just to see.