I enlisted in the Army National Guard to pay for my degree in English. When I asked the recruiter to slot me in the infantry due to that job’s short training time, the man had his doubts.
I had my own doubts. I’d seen the 1987 film Full Metal Jacket and the masterful performance of former Marine drill instructor R. Lee Ermey, screaming and punching troops. I feared Army basic training would be like that.
I was stationed at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, for basic. At first, it was easy. We arrived late Friday night and waited in a silent auditorium all weekend.
On Monday, we endured immunizations, haircuts, and the issuing of uniforms. We were ordered to buy supplies such as razors and boot polish. I chose to buy an extra pack of the brown underwear. So far, the Army was boring but easy.
Finally, our drill sergeants arrived, direct but calm, in neat uniforms and round hats. We were ordered to carry our big green duffel bags stuffed with uniforms and gear onto a semitrailer with rows of wooden benches and hanging metal hand-grip bars.
“Stand on the benches or on the floor between them. Move close together,” a drill sergeant said.
This isn’t too bad, I thought. Full Metal Jacket was just a Hollywood exaggeration.
The trailer doors closed.
“Stuff your faces in your bags! Do it now!” Intense screaming from drill sergeants all around us.
Terrified, I obeyed. The truck moved, and I was thrown backward, nearly falling, reaching instinctively for the hand-hold bar.
“Touch that bar, and I’ll kill you!” a drill sergeant screamed. I somehow righted myself without touching that forbidden bar.
“When we reach the barracks, one of you will be the last private off this truck. If you’re last, you’ll do pushups until you’re blind!”
When the truck finally stopped and the doors opened, all privates surged out. My arm wedged in that bar, the press of terrified privates threatening to break it. I heaved against the crowd to buy enough relief to free myself.
Then I ran out into the bright summer light, being screamed at from all directions by drill sergeants. No idea where I was, I ran, near panic, according to their furious instructions.
Each of us was assigned a sidewalk square where we were ordered to dump the contents of our bags for inventory, returning each item as it was called off.
“Five pairs of underwear!”
I had 10. A drill sergeant swept in, furious. “Why do you have more underwear!”
Fortunately, the Iowa Army National Guard had taught recruits how to stand at attention, avoid looking at drill sergeants, and speak to them. “Sergeant, I purchased the extra pairs with my pay advance.”
“You stole them!” the drill sergeant screamed in my face.
“Negative, sergeant.”
Apparently satisfied with my ability to maintain a military bearing, the drill sergeant moved on to threaten someone else.
Eventually, the drill sergeants calmed down, screaming at privates only when they messed up. We adapted to the routine.
Finally, training complete, a few of us were pulled out of the final field exercise on early release at the behest of the National Guard. That small group went to the chow hall but was accosted by a drill sergeant from a different training company. “What company are you with?”
“Alpha company, sergeant.”
“Alpha’s in the field!” he shouted.
“We’ve graduated, sergeant.”
The drill sergeant’s act dropped as fast as the end of a Full Metal Jacket scene. “Congratulations!” He smiled before shouting at his privates, “Move! Let these soldiers in front of you!”
Post-World War II, every generation believes the previous generation’s military was more hardcore. Even former President Donald Trump has recently posted an ad featuring Full Metal Jacket clips, pledging to purge Biden-Harris-era “wokeness” from our military. I don’t know if we need to go full R. Lee Ermey, but soldiers can learn a lot from harsh, intimidating drill sergeants.
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Trent Reedy, the author of several books, including Enduring Freedom, served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
*Some names and call signs in this story may have been changed due to operational security or privacy concerns.