Who was your Drill Sergeant/Drill Instructor in Basic Training?

You always remember the ones that made the biggest impacts, huh?
Sometimes, it is not the best one. I'll just say, this female Drill made my life a living hell, while performing WAY underneath the means of a Drill Sergeant. She would fall out of the runs, make me take the lead. I was the platoons 1sgt, so I get that I was responsible for the Joe's in my unit. What I didn't get, was the constant bickering about total bullshit. And then when we actually did deploy to a war zone, she was making us run around the compound and calling out cadence. If we didn't, we were going to get wrote up. Wasn't until I brought it up to the 1sgt, then it was stopped immediately. I mean, seriously. Then the constant picking because of something that happened in AIT that was very personal. She ended up being relieved of her duties in Iraq. She was the most horrible person I have ever met in my entire life. I will never forget her and how she taught me HOW NOT TO BE!!!

Co. F, 2nd Bn. 1st TNG Bde. Fort Polk, LA 1974. SFC Chandler, Senior DS, Korea, Vietnam Veteran, w/CIB, Airborne. My memories: 5' 9" or so, 170 Lbs, , wide chest and shoulders, narrow waist, hawkish facial features, piercing eyes, a voice like crushing gravel, and I swear that the man could walk/march from the knee's only down. The only other Soldiers I saw with the same posture, grace, discipline and gait are the Tomb Guards at Arlington. Absolutely PERFECT! God, How I wanted to be just like him, I wanted to be half the man he was. I can still see his face, that "grimace" he had, and how it felt to be "tutored" by him. I was in fear and awe of him then, but came to love him as much as my own Father in my later years. Him and CSM Joseph Bossi, both I'm sure in Heaven now, could have called me at anytime and I'd have gone running, crawling, whatever to be at their side. I really don't think we make men like that anymore. There's not enough adjectives to properly describe them: Teacher, Counselor, Mentor, Trainer, Sage, Rabbi, Guru, TRUE Soldiers!

My Drill Sergeant was SSG Jorge Reyez. I was convinced he was Satan incarnate! He was from Puerto Rico (where he was a Golden Gloves Boxer!), had a very thick accent and worse of all, he stuttered! He "attacked" everything he did! He made sure he was always #1 and came in first!
The impact he made on me? Hmmm...I can still do a great impression, does that count?

SSG Hunter. He was shorter than I was, talked with a lisp, and was TERRIFYING.

I with my parents permission I joined the infantry on the first day of my eligibility at 17 1/2 years old, and 150 lbs. My chances for survival should there be a conflict were not good. It seemed that Drill Sgt. Wiley rode my ass every day, every minute, every extra duty, then some.I never had a day off; it was hellish.
He never pronounced my name correctly, always butchering it in some comical way that was never very funny to me.
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Then one day, at the end of training, in a driving rain (Ft. Polk, LA.) he yelled at me from across the street, butchering my name once again... I was terrified of him. I was a white boy from Denver, he was black, pious Christian southerner, stout, disciplined, vigorous. 3 tours in Vietnam. I was terrified of him. As he butchered my name for the thousandth time, over some infraction, something in me snapped and I stood straight up at attention and sounded out my name, yelling over Drill Sgt. Wiley; "it's Schlosser! Drill Sgt!
A faint look of amusement passed over his face, then a stern smile, he then said; Schlosser! Carry on! His annunciation was perfect, and always was after that. I think I grew more on that day, than on any other of my life.
He pushed that kid hard, because he knew I had no chance at all, unless I got tough. He made me tough, and I'll never forget him; "Michael rowed the boat ashore, hallelujah! " Drill Sgt,. Wiley.

Sgt. Knuckles, Sgt. Dove, Sgt. Love, Only one of them actually comes close to describing the man who wore the name. Can you guess which one? ha ha ha

I remember most of them but I'll share the most colorful one- DS Nagel, Fort Knox, 3rd Platoon, Bravo 5/15, summer 2004. He offered taxi money to anyone considering going AWOL (then said he'd see the words "No pay due" on his next LES), told us he might come to work in the Nazi uniform he acquired while stationed in Germany. While in Somalia he earned a meritorious promotion to PFC for coming to the aide of his CO- he was the CO's driver, some Somali guys pulled him out of the passenger seat and started beating on him. DS Nagel ran to the other side of the vehicle and used his M-16 to butt-stroke one of them.

SPC Jan Allbright, M.Sc., R.S.
Chief Petty Officer Hall and Petty Officer Second Class Carney.

I don't want to talk about it. :-)
I won't name names (they might still be watching me), but they were pretty tough.
Like many of you, we were up at 3am every day, and never hit the rack until 11pm. They were there when I went to sleep, and they were there when I woke up. I don't know how they did it.
I hated them then, but I have a lot of respect for them now. I'd buy them a beer if I ran into them, except for the one that kicked me in the head while I was doing push-ups. I'll buy him whiskey.

SSG Monte Jeffson (CSM Retired), and I recently reconnected with him on Facebook. We also had SFC Jensen, and she was a terrorist; I think SSG Jeffson left the trail... 19 weeks of OSUT... SSG Thomas was also there as a turtle; I ran into him as a CPT at the Advance Course, and he was a 1SG. He said he remembered me.... But I know he did not. SSG Thomas taught us how to spit shine our Jump Boots... CSM Michael J. Uhlig