Best Drill Instructor/Drill Sergeant stories

Cpl Peter Martuneac, I was at Fort Jackson, SC for basic training from November 1969 to January 1970 (we had leave for Christmas). Wintertime in the south means cold weather with lots of rain. We were in final formation for the day and headed to the M16 range the following morning. Astoundingly, a naive trainee (not me, thank goodness!) actually had the courage to speak and asked the Senior Field Leader what would happen if it rained. SFC Freddie Lockwood just looked at him incredulously and exploded in a booming voice with the often quoted Army maxim, "Son, it don't rain in the Army!" Sure enough, it rained cats and dogs all the next day! In fact, it rained so hard that the foxholes on the range had eight inches of water in them and the rain beat the food out of our mess kits more quickly than we could eat it!
SFC William Farrell SGT Mark Anderson

My Lead Drill Instructor was a bad ass! Like they say, dynomite coming in small packages . Staff Sargeant Tupulo was small in stature and i think he was of Philipino decent . The first day that we went to the obstacle course, he was giving the instructions of how to properly climb the rope and touch the top of the cross bar and come bacmotivatorickly as possible ! He then said , "watch as i demonstrate" !
The ropes were just far enough apart that he had one hand on one rope and one on the other and standing with his heals together like he was at Attention ! He went to the top and tapped and back down without moving his feet! Two ropes ! One in each hand ! Needless to say, we stood there in amazement at what we just saw . MCRD San Diego. platoon 2047 June 1981

1979 Verbal order issued from US Army Training and Doctrine Command, Fort Knox, Ky. "Drill Sergeants may no longer curse, or use derogatory comments during IE training phases". Yours Truly being an idiot, asked my Senior: "is that true Drill Sergeant"?
He said: "what do you think, you stupid son of a bitch?" He was 5' 4, only six years older than I. He may be a member of RP, but I doubt it.

I modeled my own Instructing tenure from that one encounter. He knew exactly how to loosen a tense situation with humor.

When I was in AIT at Ft. Sam Houston, I did a spot on impression of our Senior Drill. One day, our former Drill Corporal, now Drill Sergeant, Lochmann aka "Lance" (poor guy got NO RESPECT from anyone, cadre or trainee, lol) heard me do the impression near the cadre office and made me go with him to the chow hall to do the impression for Senior Drill (thinking I'd be embarrassed and probably smoked). Senior Drill was sitting at the table with the Battalion CSM (RIP). Unfortunately for Lance, Senior Drill LOVED my impression and the CSM gave me the rest of the day off!

I went through Boot Camp in 1984, at Ft. Bliss. One evening, just after sundown, DS Guiterrez comes into the bay, and yells, "Listen-up, 1st Platoon! I need a light. And if I don't get one, you're ALL gonna do push-ups!..."
"I've got a light for you, Drill Sergeant!" I yell. I get into my locker and grab my flashlight off of my LBE. I turn around, and say, "Here ya go, Drill Sergeant!.." with my arm extended. He's there with an unlit cigar in his mouth. (you could still smoke in Basic, back then)
He puts me in the front-lean-and-rest position and I knock out 5 push-ups and literally fall flat on my face laughing. I realized he wanted a lighter...
The next morning, he calls me out in front of the whole BTRY. "Listen-up, Bravo!" he yells, as he's patting my shoulder. "This here is PVT Lewis, the pride of 1st Platoon. Any of you smokers out there ask him for a light; he'll give you his Godd**ned flashlight!.." The whole BTRY, from the 1SG down, broke out laughing!....

It was the second week of Basic and the DS had the entire platoon taking a knee in front of our bunks as he walked around giving us a lecture. The DS (only like 5'4") walked up to me as I was kneeling had to do a double take because I was pretty much looking him in the eyes while I was kneeling(I'm 6'9"). The only thing he said was "Don't you dare smile or laugh".

Thought it was a pretty good laugh at the time. Had two DS's that were that height...needless to say I stuck out like a sore thumb.

I had an absolute miserable DI in Basic in 1966 (Ft. Dix). He was terrible and always looking for a fight (we were afraid to hit him back). He had a really outstanding "little man's issue (he was only about 5'5").

A few years later, as a Senior Officer Candidate 2 weeks away from graduation, I ran into him as he was now assigned as an instructor (Drill and Ceremonies) to the Committee Group in OCS. I discussed with him the advantage he would have if I never saw him after Commissioning. And guess what, immediately after OCS I was assigned to the.... you guessed it..... Committee Group as an instructor in Tactics & Firearms and frequently assisted with D & C. We eventually had a hamburger together and buried the hatchet. We never did "hang out" but he has stuck in my memory as one of my worst DI experiences.

As back in that day there were lots of "Hands On" experiences I never did have one that was the best. I had some that I respected more but they were "DI's and I was a lowly E1 & E2. In other words lower than Snake Sh_t in their eyes.

Lackland AFB. June 1989 3706 BMTS

TI: (walking up and down center aisle of squad bay).”Nobody walks this aisle but me! Nobody better walk this aisle but me! Me and Jesus are the the only two people who better ever be in this aisle!”

In mid “rant” he stops in front of a small Hispanic trainee who’s name tape read JESUS.

TI barely misses a be before saying: “Nobody walks this aisle but me! Nobody better walk this aisle but me! Me and GOD!”

We tried not to laugh. Didn’t work. Let the GI party begin.

So there I was, stepping off the plush cattle truck we rode from Reception to our BCT barracks at Ft. Leonard Wood. As we ran as best we could hugging our duffles, with the DS speaking quite words of wisdom in to our young ears, they informed us once in formation we would drop our duffles at the same time so they only heard one thud.

An hour and a half later, as we are still trying to perform a perfect coordinated duffle drop, I hear another recruit respond to one of the nicest DS ever "No, Sarge..." (I pause the response because I didn't hear much after "Sarge"). That nice man all of a sudden became this thing, this monster from the pits of Hell. His fellow DS asked him what was wrong and when he answered they too became the monsters of legend, the type that Perseus would have battled.

Then there was the time I got busted with some others smoking on the sick call truck on the way back from field exercises. The 5 of us thought everyone else was asleep. I'll not go in to too many details, but to this day I still hate planting grass. And the number 15 makes me twitch.

No one ever believes this story, and I wouldn't either if I heard someone else tell it.

I went through basic at Fort Leonard Wood, MO during the summer of '06 in A Co, 1-48 IN. One of my Drill Sergeants was known to be a fairly standard DS type dick, but was prone to fits of absolutely ridiculous rage. He exemplified this one day by spartan kicking one poor bastard off the top of the repel tower. The trainee would have surely died or been seriously injured had he not been already secured to the rope and the belay man below not been on their game. We never saw that DS ever again.