Stalls? Must be one of those new barracks, where you don’t have two rows of toilets so close to each other that your knees hit the person in the opposite row.
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Yep, we had that fabulous luxury.
Sir? SIR?! Do I look like I spend all day at a desk, Private?
Give me fifty push-ups, and I want to hear each of those push-ups counted off, with a “Sergeant” before and after each number!
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Nope. Losing your voice as a Drill Instructor is in the job description.
You know, in many occupations were one has to be loud for a living, there are often specific speech patterns that don’t stress the voice as much. I’m thinking of train conductors who sometimes have a strange sing-song voice pattern. But of course in this case the emotional message of ANGER is probably more important that actually being understood.
It’s a wonder it’s not overrun with submission fetishists…
OR IS IT?
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I remember those in the summer of '82 at the Ft Wood reception center. Glad I was shitting in the woods before that.
Wait- am I, as a parent, the one who surrenders, or am I the one that demands surrender?
Or maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that question.
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A Marine acquaintance told me he had seen DIs occasionally spit blood after long days of screaming.
It’s not about respecting hierarchy. It’s learning to function under profound stress and distraction.
Showed up to basic, they put me on the last bus. I got to skip out on all that early yelling and had the shower to myself.
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