- SFC Timothy Sullivan. SSGT Durkee, SGT Blas and SFC Jim Jones. The names of my drill sergeants in basic training. I heard years after the fact that a man would never forget those names and as soon as the guy said that my first thought was, No way- I can't even remember... then the names popped into my mind with complete clarity and I said their names aloud as readily as if I was reading them from a birthday party invitation.
- SGT Blas was from the Phillipines. His command of English was so terrible that when he was telling you to do something he would get frustrated that you didn't understand and say, Ahforgetit private. Drop you and beat you face. You do push ups! He would then walk away and almost as an afterthought would come back and say, Ah forgetit private. You OK. You can get up. He was kind, fair, funny and smart in a practical way. He smiled a lot. He was short. I believe he was admired widely in the platoon and was a good second man to SFC Sullivan.
- SFC Sullivan would tell you he had been homeless before the the Army. He was wide eyed and crazy looking but it was part of his schtick. He was incredibly smart- his knowledge of field craft was encyclopedic. I learned lessons from him that I still use but while in the Army some of those simple lessons helped me and the troops I was around on a daily basis. He dipped Skoal like it was going out of style. He nearly cried when we left as he told us how proud he was and to remember the lessons we had learned at Fort Knox. It sounds a little corny but that day was a big step toward my becoming a man. I literally dreamt of him going back to my line unit and us serving together.
- The first time I went through basic SFC Jim Jones was my drill instructor and SSGT Durkee was his assistant. SFC Jones smoked KOOLs like there was going to be no tomorrow and could run us until we were puking and begging for death then he would light another... He had been in the 1st Infantry Division in Vietnam and did I think 3 tours there. Our senior drill did either 4 or 6 tours- plenty anyway whatever the ridiculous number was. SSGT Durkee got busted down a rank for striking a private in my platoon. I was more/less in the first run of the so called, New Army. Some of the NCOs hadn't gotten the memo they weren't supposed to beat you any more.
- Durkee was a psychotic idiot.
- Yes, I said, " The first time I went through basic " up there. I went through basic twice. Remind me- I'll tell you about it sometime.
- There was another reservist drill instructor who had been Special Forces. I can almost see his name plate but can't recall his name right now. Even though I can't recall what it looked like his patch was lame. Reserve patches are always lame- as if it was intentional to keep them in their place or something.
- I still remember and use a saying of his, You must make wise and efficient use of your valuable time.
- Drill Sergeant Dall was from the Bahamas. He was called Cobra for his ridiculously broad back and tiny waist. He could do 120 push ups in 2 minutes. He was over another platoon but everybody knew him and wished he was their platoon sergeant as he was so cool. He would say truisms and tell morality tales that didn't make a lick of sense but somehow were profound like, You can only shoot the duck but your father... He can shoot the dove. I am your father. You are my son, I will show you how to shoot the dove...
- You would not believe the sex that went on between Drill Instructors and female recruits nor the lesbian action in the female units. Lesbians would try and bully female non lesbian recruits into sex. We would meet females from the female unit across the breezeway and sneak in a chat and the subject came up multiple times with multiple women.
- I could do 89 push ups and 89 sit ups in 2 minutes each and run 2 miles in 13 minutes by the time I left Fort Jackson SC.
- That and a quarter will get you... well, nothing but it is true.
- One: the number of Eskimos in my platoon at Fort Jackson. He was a great guy. He invited me to come see him in Alaska. How Eskimo was he you ask? Yes, he literally stayed in igloos during the hunting season. He was in poor shape when we got to Fort Jackson but worked like a maniac to get fit. During our final physical fitness test his nose started bleeding but he wouldn't quit. The drill instructors tried to stop him after he did enough sit ups to pass but he wouldn't stop. He just screamed, Nooo! when he came up and sprayed nose juice everywhere. His PT uniform and the floor around him was literally soaked in blood.
- An ambulance came to the female barracks one night. Some time later I asked a female soldier about it. She said a Drill Instructor and female recruit were doing cocaine and grexing and the female overdosed or had some other problem (was it a seizure?) secondary to the drug use. I wonder where they are now? Does his wife know what a low life monster he was? Is the female soldier still alive? Did she get kicked out for drug use?
- Ziggy Icegara- one of my best friends. He was from Cali. Emilio Vargas was another. Emilio and I were supposed to get together to restore my 1951 Chevy pickup. He wanted to put hydraulics on it and turn it into a lowrider. He was from L.A.
Fort Jackson B/9/2 1982
- We had a very effeminate soldier named Wysneznski. Predictably, his nick name was Alphabet. From my nursing I now know that he was affected by a genetic problem that caused his body to make less testosterone than it should. He was the one Durkee punched and got relieved of drill instructor duties. At some point he got sent home after he broke his ankle. Terry Stoner was a best friend. I think he was from Cali- I know it was the west coast somewhere- maybe Oregon? Daniel Takashi Uchimura lived in Hawaii and was of Japanese descent. He was impossibly short and crude. Women would call him ET. His reply? Yes! That means extra tasty! He got us kicked out of our eating and drinking place. We were told, We love you guys (pointing at me and Stoner)- come back any time but leave the little man at home. We don't like him. He is creepy. We just never went back. Cochise was an Indian friend. His hair went down to the middle of his back when we first arrived at Fort Jackson. When we got our hair shorn I did not recognize him. Supposedly he was directly descended from Cochise. There was also a white guy from Alaska. He masturbated every night.
- Britz was the first person I ever met who knew karate. Paul Lurers was a good friend. Was he related to the Lurers boat family? Orton and Horton were always oddly confused by Drill Sergeant Blas. During mail call call he would call out, Orton with an H! and Orton with an O! Todero was from Cinncinati. His nose was nearly nearly bitten off in a fight some time before he enlisted. Hassan Illidio was of Lebanese? origin and thought himself irresistible to women. Paul Spackman was a best friend. We trained at Knox and served at Hood and Bad Hersfeld Germany together. We travelled all over Germany and did road trips in Texas. He was an infantryman in the California Guard before going regular Army. He may be a lawyer as there is one with his name in California. I've emailed him a couple of times but he never answered.
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