Soldier at heart of exam inquiry voices defiance

WASHINGTON -- On his personal websites, Army Specialist Adam Chrysler presents himself as a typical soldier. He was away from home for almost four years. His hobbies include cars and computer games. He has a daring streak -- on display when he got demoted last year for rappelling off a communications tower.

And he describes himself as having a typical soldier's problems. His salary is far from sufficient for his young family. There is nothing, he writes, that will make the wife he married while stationed in South Korea happy in the United States. His speeding tickets are piling up in the glove compartment of his new car, which recently got sideswiped -- costing him $1,000.

But Chrysler's response to his soldier's life has been anything but typical: He acknowledges setting up a website to provide copies of correspondence course exams to his comrades, thousands of whom may have used them to cheat. Passing the tests can lead to quicker promotions and pay increases , and Chrysler contends he was helping his buddies.

Now the 28-year-old native of Marathon, N.Y., is at the center of a burgeoning Army investigation into allegations that thousands of soldiers have cheated on their promotion exams, which cover subjects as sensitive as the operation of Patriot missiles, Stinger missiles, and other high-tech weapons.

Chrysler's site, ShamSchool.com, claims to have a half-million visitors per month.

"Everyone in my unit always asked if I had files and I found it easier to upload them to my website and send them there," he wrote in a Web posting last week. "After a while one friend told one friend and soon everyone knew."

A spokeswoman for Chrysler's unit confirmed yesterday that he is a member of the 101st Airborne Division, which launched a probe into the cheating scandal this month.

Lieutenant Colonel Rumi Nielson-Green said the investigation "is pretty broad in terms of the websites and any improprieties." For now it is focused on the 101st, which is based at Fort Campbell, Ky. But given the number of soldiers who could be implicated it could lead to further action by Army headquarters, she said.

Army officials maintain that cheating, and even the allegations of cheating, weaken the very foundation of the Army creed: integrity.

Not only would cheating on the tests violate regulations and military law, it would also raise questions about whether soldiers are living up to their word, a critical measure of leadership.

Chrysler, reached in recent days via e-mail, declined to be interviewed. He said he is prohibited by his commanders from speaking with the media. He acknowledges being the operator of ShamSchool on one of his personal sites. On all his sites, he uses the moniker "Adium" and talks extensively about his life and his Web activities.

In recent weeks, after the cheating probe was launched, Chrysler has all but dared the Army to come after him.

"I am proud to be responsible [for] creating a community where soldiers come to help other soldiers," he boasted recently on ShamSchool.

Chrysler, who reports that he has a brother and other relatives in the Army, accuses the military of hypocrisy in its handling of the correspondence course exams. He says that some of his superiors have used the site to gain promotions and have congratulated him for his efforts. He contends that higher-ups have been aware for years that soldiers share test answers but haven't taken any action.

Chrysler's postings illustrate both his frustration with military life and the extent to which the Internet has become a means of bringing together disgruntled soldiers.

He began sharing his life story online from South Korea, where he was stationed as an Army private in 2003 and stayed until February. There, he created the website razornylon.com and posted hundreds of photographs showing young soldiers wrestling in the barracks, getting caught napping between exercises in full battlefield gear, and watching scantily clad Korean women perform NBA-style dance numbers in a show for the troops.

In March 2006, Chrysler's wife gave birth to a girl. Three months later, Chrysler re enlisted, explaining that he needed the money.

Then in September 2006 came the stunt that deepened his disillusionment with the military. He and a friend climbed up a 100 meter communications tower and rappelled down with equipment they bought for $400. They filmed the incident, and Chrysler posted it on YouTube.com.

At the same time, he and friends made disparaging videos about the lieutenant in charge of their unit, who he claims often left them to spend time with her boyfriend.

After the lieutenant saw Chrysler's videos, charges were filed against him for the unauthorized climb of the communications tower, resulting in his demotion from sergeant to specialist. He said he was fined $921 and given 45 days extra duty, causing him to miss Christmas with his family.

He felt his punishment was too harsh. All the while, his Web activities continued to grow -- especially the ShamSchool traffic in tests and answers for the Army Correspondence Course Program, known by its acronym ACCP. The courses allow soldiers to continue their training online, earning points toward promotion and qualifying for specialized missions.

Chrysler started ShamSchool late in his time in South Korea and continued operating it when he returned to the United States this year.

"Right now I want nothing more [than to leave] this place," he wrote of getting out of South Korea. His South Korean wife did not share his feelings.

"My wife is devastated and it's hard for me to be compassionate because in truth it is my turn to be home," he posted on a personal site in January. "I wish there was something I could do to make her happy, but there is nothing."

At Fort Campbell, his troubles continued. He was charged with "impersonating a noncommissioned officer," he said, after putting his sergeant's stripes back on. He contends he wasn't aware that his punishment in South Korea carried over.

Recently, he was caught speeding by a military policeman after trying to see how fast his new car would go -- at least 115 miles per hour. Days later he was nabbed by a highway patrolman.

As his troubles mounted, his websites -- as many as nine -- emerged as a way to make money. ShamSchool doesn't charge for tests, but it seeks donations from users.

"The combined value of all of my websites now earn around $500 a month, which I still find hard to believe," he wrote Saturday in an online chat. "And you would think I would do more to increase that number. Life has been taking its toll around here."

Providing a venue to help soldiers cheat on tests was not his original intent, he insists.

"I didn't want it to be entirely about ACCP so I tried to make it about Army education and made sure to include [information about] counseling, PowerPoint files, and anything else I could that was Army related," he said in a recent posting. However, "the main thing that everyone cared about was ACCP. . . . So despite my desires and intentions the site has become primarily focused around that."

Even with the pressures placed on many troops and their families, that is "not an excuse to circumvent the system," said Harvey Perritt, a spokesman for the Army Training and Doctrine Command.

In a vote tally posted yesterday on ShamSchool on whether the site should remain operating, users were split. One who voted for shutting it down remarked that, "You were asking for trouble from the start." One in favor of keeping it running said, "Too many people rely on you."

One ShamSchool visitor who posted on the site yesterday and was contacted by the Globe said that while "cheating is wrong," the Army asks a lot of soldiers but pays too little, and that is why so many soldiers look for shortcuts to promotion and higher pay.

"How do you think that makes me feel to have to put my child on free lunches because I can't afford to give her lunch money," he wrote.

Like Chrysler, the user sees ShamSchool as a way of helping soldiers combat the degradations of military life: "Would I cheat to get promoted to take care of my family? Yes I would."

Bryan Bender can be reached at bender@globe.com; Kevin Baron at kbaron@globe.com.