Critics troubled by the lack of regulation in private training

12:00 AM CDT on Monday, May 29, 2006

By DAVID A. FAHRENTHOLD The Washington Post

MONTROSE, Colo. – Marcus Klintmalm's two victims lay sprawled on the ground, their weapons released by hands gone limp. Spent cartridge casings, his and theirs, were everywhere – testimony to two gunfights.

The shooting had stopped. It was time to debrief.

"Where did you hit him?" an instructor asked Mr. Klintmalm, referring to one of the assailants. The man was standing now, with a mark of orange wax from Mr. Klintmalm's "bullet" on his pants.

"In the hip," Klintmalm said.

If the fight had been real, that might not have been good enough, the instructor said. "He may not be dead."

Such are the hard-edged lessons taught here at Valhalla Training Center, where students learn the basics of urban shootouts in a mock downtown. Special forces soldiers train here for combat in Iraq, but Mr. Klintmalm is not a soldier. He is a 23-year-old aspiring business-school student from Dallas, who gave his current occupation as "ski-bumming."

Valhalla is part of a lightly regulated industry thriving in a time of war overseas and terrorism fears at home. Around the country, at least 16 privately run schools teach civilian students skills usually associated with SWAT teams or military combat – close-in gunfighting, assault-rifle tactics, sniper shooting.

The reasons for the schools' growth include the U.S. military's increasing openness to privately run training, a rise in public demand for personal-defense skills, and a new marketing strategy from some schools, which now sell tactical shooting as weekend recreation. Along with this growth have come concerns, voiced by academic observers and even some in the business, about the leeway afforded these schools to choose whom and what they teach.

"You're talking about an entirely new industry that has a patchwork-quilt quality. ... Some parts are regulated, and some parts are entirely unregulated," said Peter Singer, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institution. He said that such a system would be "one thing if we're talking about clown schools," but "it's different when we're talking about private military schools."

The schools, however, say they strive to screen out clients who might misuse their training.

"They don't show up for class and have a gun in their hand until they've had a criminal background check," said Timothy Beckman, director of the training arm of the High Desert Special Operations Center in Nevada. "You don't get in the door if you don't have good paper."

A survey by The Washington Post of schools that advertise on the Internet and in gun magazines located 19 that offer advanced instruction in the skills of combat, with two more planned in New Hampshire and Oklahoma. Of these, only three said that they limited the teaching of advanced skills to military and police clients.

One thing shared across the industry was a sense that – these days more than ever – people want what they are selling.

"Our business has increased since September 11, period. People realize since September 11 that they need to be more prepared," said Jane Anne Hulen, marketing director of Gunsite Academy, a school in the Arizona desert that is one of the industry's heavyweights. She said Gunsite's business, which now involves about 1,000 students per year, has at least doubled since the 2001 terrorist attacks.