Sparrowhawk
07-06-04, 04:11 PM
The Meanest Marine
http://www.pe.com/imagesdaily/2004/07-06/gunny001_300.jpg
Marine instructor gives his ragged recruits hard-core but purposeful training
10:48 AM PDT on Tuesday, July 6, 2004
By JOE VARGO / The Press-Enterprise
Gunnery Sgt. Terrence C. Whitcomb
Age: 30
Residence: Hemet
Hobbies: Fishing, listening to jazz, riding his Honda CBR 929 motorcycle
Philosophy: "I'd be cheating the Marine Corps if I didn't yell."
Future goals: Becoming a kindergarten teacher. "Little kids are like recruits. They're sponges. They're always seeking more knowledge."
SAN DIEGO - From the top of his close-cropped head to the heel of his size 10 Marine Corps regulation boots, Terrence Whitcomb comes across as a guy to not trifle with.
Colleagues at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego consider Whitcomb one of the meanest - if not the meanest - drill instructor, a reputation cemented when the Hemet resident was chosen "DI" of the year for 2003.
His challenge: Taking often undisciplined and soft recruits and turning them into tough Marines, who within weeks of completing basic training can be shipped to Iraq, Afghanistan or other hot spots.
Gunnery Sgt. Whitcomb's commanding presence, physical fitness, attention to detail and discipline earned the 5-foot-5, 145-pound Hemet resident a nickname from his colleagues: "The Little General." Even in the take-no-guff world of Marine Corps drill instructors, Whitcomb's total package sets him apart. His uniform buttons don't just glint in the sun; they're so highly polished they practically reflect off starlight, colleagues say. He isn't just in great shape; he's almost like the bionic man.
Capt. Daniel Maze, one of Whitcomb's superiors, likens him to the Energizer Bunny, saying: "He just keeps on going and going and never breaks a sweat."
Gunny Sgt. Doug Fraser, a fellow drill instructor, calls Whitcomb the "drill instructor of the millennium" whose eagle eyes can "pick out an errant whisker on a recruit from 50 yards away."
http://www.pe.com/imagesdaily/2004/07-06/gunny003_216.jpg
Terrence Whitcomb: The Meanest Marine
As for physical conditioning, Fraser says Whitcomb can "smoke any one of us, any day of the week."
Recruits under Whitcomb's tutelage during the past 2 ½ years learned quickly that lollygagging on the parade ground, dogging a push-up, marching out of step and even sloppy shaving will set him off.
What follows is a high-decibel verbal tirade.
Likely as not, Whitcomb will give the terrified recruit a dose of "incentive training" - such as jumping jacks, sit-ups, stomach crunches or other punishment - to make sure the same mistake doesn't happen again. If, in the course of their training, fear motivated his recruits to become good Marines, then all the screaming was not in vain, Whitcomb says.
"Slacking off makes me lose my mind," Whitcomb, 30, said during a dinner break in one of his routine 18-hour days. "It shows me they're not taking their training seriously. Incentive training turns a slug or a snail into a rabbit."
Ed Crisostomo / The Press-Enterprise
U.S Marine Corps Gunnery Sgt. Terrence Whitcomb's job: Turn his latest long line of recruits into well-drilled, tough-edged Marines. The 5-foot-5, 145-pound Hemet resident knows a little something about toughness. Men's Journal magazine recently proclaimed Whitcomb the "13th toughest guy in America."
Toughest guys list
Whitcomb downplays his mean-Marine reputation, saying all drill instructors are first-class butt-chewers. But he beams when mentioning his inclusion in Men's Journal's "toughest 25 guys in America" list, saying the selection "put me on the top of the world."
The magazine listed him 13th, ahead of several extreme athletes. Green Bay Packers quarterback Brett Favre topped the list. Whitcomb says he'd like to have a go at No. 3 choice Matt Hughes, an ultimate fighter who dominates the no-holds-barred form of bare-knuckle combat.
The evolution into the world's "baddest" drill instructor might seem odd for Whitcomb, a 10-year-Marine veteran. He's spent most of his career as an administrator, resolving pay problems and making sure Marines file the proper paperwork when getting married or divorced. He's never been on the front lines.
Fellow Marines say real leadership isn't about rank or previous duty stations. It's about motivating green recruits, and that's all about setting an example. None can do that better than Whitcomb, peers say.
"He's the living embodiment of the very best we expect in a drill instructor," Marine Capt. Bill Marple said.
Recruits who follow his orders find Whitcomb firm but fair. Those who don't will find out the meaning of mean.
"If I was a recruit, I'd definitely be scared of him," Marple said. "He's not someone you want to mess around with."
Whitcomb recently finished putting his ninth class of recruits through the Corps' 12-week training cycle. By the third go-around, he knew he'd found his niche.
Ed Crisostomo / The Press-Enterprise
Whitcomb urges Pfc. Yat Yan to "get your feet off the deck!" during a run that included stomach crunches and weight-lifting.
"I had the little strut," he said. "I was in the groove."
On the job
Whitcomb's day begins at 3 a.m. when he climbs into his car for the 93-mile drive from his Hemet home - near West Valley High School - to San Diego. He doesn't drink coffee. Jazz tunes play on the radio. He's on hand when the recruits of Kilo Company, 3rd Recruit Battalion, get rousted at 5 a.m.
The barracks, which Whitcomb calls "my houses," jump-start to life as recruits dress, make their beds and scrub the floors, windowsills and commodes. Even in the pre-dawn darkness, he cuts an impressive figure - his uniform crisp, belt buckle polished, boots spotless.
He points out several shortcomings.
He saves his harshest criticism for a recruit who has the bad luck of dropping his water canteen while Whitcomb prowls the barracks.
"Did you sanitize this canteen?" Whitcomb asks, his voice rising.
The recruit hesitated.
"Yes sir, no sir," comes the reply.
" 'Yes sir, no sir,' are you trying to be stupid?" Whitcomb yells.
"This recruit does not remember, sir," he says haltingly.
That was enough for Whitcomb, who advised another drill instructor to give the recruit a little "special attention" - 25 or so push-ups.
Recently, Whitcomb took on a new assignment: training the next generation of drill instructors. He started in April and will train four cycles of "DIs" over the next year. He's the physical fitness guru. That seems only natural for a guy who does 500 sit-ups before breakfast, runs three miles in under 18 minutes, completes 100 stomach crunches in 90 seconds and knocks off two sets of 20 pull-ups nonstop.
"They hired the right man for the job," he says.
Recruits who survived Whitcomb's final boot camp said he's everything and more they expected in a drill instructor.
"You can't deny his intensity," said David Dodds, 25, of Burlington, Iowa. "He was a great motivator. His eyes are real deep and intense. He's all business. He was a constant presence."
Adam Elder, 22, of Martinsville, Ind., said he learned something every time Whitcomb or another drill instructor chewed out a recruit.
"I always listened to what they said, not how they said it," Elder said.
Ed Crisostomo / The Press-Enterprise
Marine recruits stand still shouting 'Good Morning Gentlemen', as U.S Marine Corps Gunnery Sgt. Terrence Whitcomb walks by.
Another side
Whitcomb grows quiet when reflecting on the fighting the Marines he's trained are waging in Iraq. Screaming and riding recruits isn't done for laughs and giggles, he says, but to help them stay alive in combat.
One of the recruits he trained, Lance Cpl. Marcus Cherry, was killed April 6 in fighting around Ramadi.
Cherry joined the Marines in June 2003 after graduation from Imperial High School. The 18-year-old was a rifleman assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 4th Marines.
"I haven't been the same since it happened," Whitcomb said. "We sweated and lived together for 12 weeks. I cross my hands and pray for him at night. I ask myself if I taught him everything he needed to know. Was there something else I could have added? He was a great recruit who was always willing to learn. He's one of my heroes."
Reach Joe Vargo at (909) 375-3730 or jvargo@pe.com
http://www.pe.com/imagesdaily/2004/07-06/gunny001_300.jpg
Marine instructor gives his ragged recruits hard-core but purposeful training
10:48 AM PDT on Tuesday, July 6, 2004
By JOE VARGO / The Press-Enterprise
Gunnery Sgt. Terrence C. Whitcomb
Age: 30
Residence: Hemet
Hobbies: Fishing, listening to jazz, riding his Honda CBR 929 motorcycle
Philosophy: "I'd be cheating the Marine Corps if I didn't yell."
Future goals: Becoming a kindergarten teacher. "Little kids are like recruits. They're sponges. They're always seeking more knowledge."
SAN DIEGO - From the top of his close-cropped head to the heel of his size 10 Marine Corps regulation boots, Terrence Whitcomb comes across as a guy to not trifle with.
Colleagues at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego consider Whitcomb one of the meanest - if not the meanest - drill instructor, a reputation cemented when the Hemet resident was chosen "DI" of the year for 2003.
His challenge: Taking often undisciplined and soft recruits and turning them into tough Marines, who within weeks of completing basic training can be shipped to Iraq, Afghanistan or other hot spots.
Gunnery Sgt. Whitcomb's commanding presence, physical fitness, attention to detail and discipline earned the 5-foot-5, 145-pound Hemet resident a nickname from his colleagues: "The Little General." Even in the take-no-guff world of Marine Corps drill instructors, Whitcomb's total package sets him apart. His uniform buttons don't just glint in the sun; they're so highly polished they practically reflect off starlight, colleagues say. He isn't just in great shape; he's almost like the bionic man.
Capt. Daniel Maze, one of Whitcomb's superiors, likens him to the Energizer Bunny, saying: "He just keeps on going and going and never breaks a sweat."
Gunny Sgt. Doug Fraser, a fellow drill instructor, calls Whitcomb the "drill instructor of the millennium" whose eagle eyes can "pick out an errant whisker on a recruit from 50 yards away."
http://www.pe.com/imagesdaily/2004/07-06/gunny003_216.jpg
Terrence Whitcomb: The Meanest Marine
As for physical conditioning, Fraser says Whitcomb can "smoke any one of us, any day of the week."
Recruits under Whitcomb's tutelage during the past 2 ½ years learned quickly that lollygagging on the parade ground, dogging a push-up, marching out of step and even sloppy shaving will set him off.
What follows is a high-decibel verbal tirade.
Likely as not, Whitcomb will give the terrified recruit a dose of "incentive training" - such as jumping jacks, sit-ups, stomach crunches or other punishment - to make sure the same mistake doesn't happen again. If, in the course of their training, fear motivated his recruits to become good Marines, then all the screaming was not in vain, Whitcomb says.
"Slacking off makes me lose my mind," Whitcomb, 30, said during a dinner break in one of his routine 18-hour days. "It shows me they're not taking their training seriously. Incentive training turns a slug or a snail into a rabbit."
Ed Crisostomo / The Press-Enterprise
U.S Marine Corps Gunnery Sgt. Terrence Whitcomb's job: Turn his latest long line of recruits into well-drilled, tough-edged Marines. The 5-foot-5, 145-pound Hemet resident knows a little something about toughness. Men's Journal magazine recently proclaimed Whitcomb the "13th toughest guy in America."
Toughest guys list
Whitcomb downplays his mean-Marine reputation, saying all drill instructors are first-class butt-chewers. But he beams when mentioning his inclusion in Men's Journal's "toughest 25 guys in America" list, saying the selection "put me on the top of the world."
The magazine listed him 13th, ahead of several extreme athletes. Green Bay Packers quarterback Brett Favre topped the list. Whitcomb says he'd like to have a go at No. 3 choice Matt Hughes, an ultimate fighter who dominates the no-holds-barred form of bare-knuckle combat.
The evolution into the world's "baddest" drill instructor might seem odd for Whitcomb, a 10-year-Marine veteran. He's spent most of his career as an administrator, resolving pay problems and making sure Marines file the proper paperwork when getting married or divorced. He's never been on the front lines.
Fellow Marines say real leadership isn't about rank or previous duty stations. It's about motivating green recruits, and that's all about setting an example. None can do that better than Whitcomb, peers say.
"He's the living embodiment of the very best we expect in a drill instructor," Marine Capt. Bill Marple said.
Recruits who follow his orders find Whitcomb firm but fair. Those who don't will find out the meaning of mean.
"If I was a recruit, I'd definitely be scared of him," Marple said. "He's not someone you want to mess around with."
Whitcomb recently finished putting his ninth class of recruits through the Corps' 12-week training cycle. By the third go-around, he knew he'd found his niche.
Ed Crisostomo / The Press-Enterprise
Whitcomb urges Pfc. Yat Yan to "get your feet off the deck!" during a run that included stomach crunches and weight-lifting.
"I had the little strut," he said. "I was in the groove."
On the job
Whitcomb's day begins at 3 a.m. when he climbs into his car for the 93-mile drive from his Hemet home - near West Valley High School - to San Diego. He doesn't drink coffee. Jazz tunes play on the radio. He's on hand when the recruits of Kilo Company, 3rd Recruit Battalion, get rousted at 5 a.m.
The barracks, which Whitcomb calls "my houses," jump-start to life as recruits dress, make their beds and scrub the floors, windowsills and commodes. Even in the pre-dawn darkness, he cuts an impressive figure - his uniform crisp, belt buckle polished, boots spotless.
He points out several shortcomings.
He saves his harshest criticism for a recruit who has the bad luck of dropping his water canteen while Whitcomb prowls the barracks.
"Did you sanitize this canteen?" Whitcomb asks, his voice rising.
The recruit hesitated.
"Yes sir, no sir," comes the reply.
" 'Yes sir, no sir,' are you trying to be stupid?" Whitcomb yells.
"This recruit does not remember, sir," he says haltingly.
That was enough for Whitcomb, who advised another drill instructor to give the recruit a little "special attention" - 25 or so push-ups.
Recently, Whitcomb took on a new assignment: training the next generation of drill instructors. He started in April and will train four cycles of "DIs" over the next year. He's the physical fitness guru. That seems only natural for a guy who does 500 sit-ups before breakfast, runs three miles in under 18 minutes, completes 100 stomach crunches in 90 seconds and knocks off two sets of 20 pull-ups nonstop.
"They hired the right man for the job," he says.
Recruits who survived Whitcomb's final boot camp said he's everything and more they expected in a drill instructor.
"You can't deny his intensity," said David Dodds, 25, of Burlington, Iowa. "He was a great motivator. His eyes are real deep and intense. He's all business. He was a constant presence."
Adam Elder, 22, of Martinsville, Ind., said he learned something every time Whitcomb or another drill instructor chewed out a recruit.
"I always listened to what they said, not how they said it," Elder said.
Ed Crisostomo / The Press-Enterprise
Marine recruits stand still shouting 'Good Morning Gentlemen', as U.S Marine Corps Gunnery Sgt. Terrence Whitcomb walks by.
Another side
Whitcomb grows quiet when reflecting on the fighting the Marines he's trained are waging in Iraq. Screaming and riding recruits isn't done for laughs and giggles, he says, but to help them stay alive in combat.
One of the recruits he trained, Lance Cpl. Marcus Cherry, was killed April 6 in fighting around Ramadi.
Cherry joined the Marines in June 2003 after graduation from Imperial High School. The 18-year-old was a rifleman assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 4th Marines.
"I haven't been the same since it happened," Whitcomb said. "We sweated and lived together for 12 weeks. I cross my hands and pray for him at night. I ask myself if I taught him everything he needed to know. Was there something else I could have added? He was a great recruit who was always willing to learn. He's one of my heroes."
Reach Joe Vargo at (909) 375-3730 or jvargo@pe.com