Best Drill Instructor/Drill Sergeant stories

This is in 1974 at Lackland AFB in Basic. The TIs called the dorm guard over the intercom and asked him his name. He responded with, "I am Francis Morrow from Rochester NY". It took him a minute to say that and so long that the TIs were laughing. You could hear them, but I also felt kind of sad for him. FRAN-CISSSS MOR-ROW FROM ROC-HESTER NEW YORK.

I originally joined the Reserves while I was in college so I went to basic training after my freshman year in the summer of 1990 at Ft Dix. First night there I drew the 0300-0400 CQ shift. The guy I was relieving was half asleep and basically just told me "just buff the floor, don't open the door for anyone and don't wake the drill sergeant", then went to bed. Few minutes later one of the other drills was knocking on the door and sure enough yelled at me when I opened it for him, then went into the day room where the drill on duty was sleeping. Now, full disclosure, I had never, ever in my life used a buffer so I honestly had no clue how they worked but I'd seen people using them so I squeezed the handle and started buffing away. After a little while, the two drills came out to the hall and were talking when the duty drill says "Private, how can you buff with the wheels up?". I shot to parade rest and said "I'm sorry drill sergeant, I've never used a buffer before!". The other drill, a short guy with a Napoleon Complex comes over and kicks the wheels up and asks me where I was from. I replied "New Hampshire, drill sergeant", he asks me what I did in New Hampshire and I replied "I'm a college student drill sergeant". Then he looks at the other drill and says "Jesus, they don't teach these idiots anything in college these days.". I kept my mouth shut of course but in my mind I was thinking, "Yeah moron, I'm majoring in janitorial services, I just haven't had the buffing 101 course yet..."

No humor here, but tremendous respect and graditude for my drill sergeant while stationed at Ft. Polk in basic training in 1966 in D-1-5. His name was Staff Sgt. Willie McLoud. We stayed in touch over the years as he worked his way up through the enlisted ranks to become the Command Sgt. Major of the Special Forces located at Ft. Bragg. He served in combat all of this planet and was a real man of great character and leadership on a daily basis. He died 4 years ago at age 79.

The Drill Instructor ran us for a couple of miles then marched us to packed clay and rock field we had never been before. The DI placed the platoon on line ordering red books out. We had a red study note book in the left rear pocket to be placed with the left hand in front of out face turning pages with left thumb and fingers. Standing in this modified POA we could hear cadence being called at a distance on the platoons 1500 position in a female voice. Yes, now we were at attention. As the cadence got closer recruits were leaning out looking right attempting to observe this new and strange sound. The female voice changed tone almost man like and we heard familier commands setting a platoon in the on line position. Some stepped out to try and see. Most like me never saw them to many shaved heads in the way. We had no idea that female recruits or any female was on Parris Island. The female voice yelled out "That's right ! There's yards and yards of dick over there and not one fucking inch will you get" "Now drop ! All I want to hear is forty cunts sucking sand" Well that did it, we all did something we had not done in a long time, we laughed. All of us laughed like fools. Could not hear anything else until almost at the same time the DI was there in a instant screaming that we were all just animals, animals to stupid to maintain the position of attention. Kicking punching screaming get on the ground now crawl like filty animals, crawl, crawl on your hands and knees filthy animals. Crawling, laughing, punching, kicking, DI screaming, cussing and a lot of crawling until no more laughter. Then more crawling. Later, after sweat popping PT with some recruit reflection it dawned on us we were set up. He knew they would be there at that time. We never saw them again until briefly at graduation and then they were gone. There were a lot less than 40 on graduation.

When I was doing Beast Barracks at West Point, the Upperclassmen would brace you against a wall for minor and frequently fictitious infractions. So for whatever reason a HUGE cadet and I were braced side by side. You had to touch the wall in so many spots and there had to be a certain number of wrinkles under the chin. Thumbs had to be on the crease, etc. So after being dressed down, the UC yelled:

"Repeat after me. Sir, I'm America's fighting man!" "Ball you go first!"

If you ever tried to brace, grab wrinkles and yell out, it isn't easy so I did manage to bark it out fairly well. Problem was when HUGE did it, it came out like a constipated Pee Wee Herman. That made me laugh which is also a no-no but somehow got overlooked by all the UCs rolling on the floor.

I witnessed an DS repeatedly tell a recruit his chin strap was not a throat strap because the recruit had his chin strap in his throat due to it not being tightened. The DS grabbed the recruit by his chin strap and pulled him down to the ground and proceeded to scream at him about his chin strap. Well that was about all that took to fix his chin strap.

I like the Marine stories. I need to hear more please.

When I was in basic at Ft. Knox our hand to hand instructor was Drill Sgt. Kendrix. We were in the hand to hand sand pit when he ask for a volunteer. Now my father was a WWII Vet and he told me to never volunteer for anything but a jerk behind me gave me a push forward because he knew I was a wrestler in school. Sgt. Kendrix said if I could take him down I could get out of PT for two days. So like a fool I used my skills and put him on his back in the pit. The other DIs could not help but laugh, all except Kindrix. Needless to say I got my two days but the rest of basic was hell to pay. I got every shit detail possible.

18 years old, summer of '69, just completing infantry AIT at Ft. Polk LA, orders for 'Nam in hand. Orders suddenly change to Ft. Bliss TX. We get off bus at FT. Bliss. DI screams "You MF's are the LUCKIEST A******S in THIS MAN'S ARMY." We all look at each other, no idea what he's talking about. DI screams "What, you DUMB F***S don't know why you're here?" We all look at each other, no idea what he's talking about. DI screams "You are here for REDEYE MISSILE TRAINING!" We all look at each other, no idea what he's talking about. DI screams "You scumbags are the LUCKIEST MF's in THIS MAN'S ARMY cause they AIN'T NO REDEYE MISSILES in Vietnam!" I guess the remainder of my life changed at that moment.

I remember one time (this is in Fort Benning), we were lined up outside to get our haircut. It was blazing hot out as this was in the summer. For some reason only God knows, this old lady came by (again- I have no idea how an old lady got that far into Fort Benning), pushing this damn ice cream cart, with little bells on it. Our Drill Sgt yelled at us to not get any ice cream from the old lady, and to not look at her. He then proceeded to buy himself a sundae, ate it in front of us, and walked off.

About five minutes later, when the knuckleheads thought Drill Sgt was incognito, they broke the line, haggled the lady for ice cream, ate some, and ran back into the line. Drill Sgt of course pretended like he didn't know what was happening.

About 3 hours later, everyone who ate the ice cream ended up with the shits back in the platoon bay. The Drill Sgt came rushing in, yelling at us about integrity violations, and began smoking everyone, including those that had the shits. Most of it was squat benders, with some mountain climbers thrown in. The guy in front of me shitted himself and smiled proudly about it.