thedrifter
01-12-05, 12:54 PM
January 17, 2005
100% intense
It’s a dream job — and it’s one of the Corps’ toughest. An inside look at the DI’s life
By Christian Lowe
Times staff writer
MARINE CORPS RECRUIT DEPOT PARRIS ISLAND, S.C. — It was only the second week of his platoon’s three-month training cycle, but the fatigue was evident in Sgt. Christopher Roy’s bloodshot eyes.
After a near-sleepless night in the drill instructor hut at the end of the squad bay listening to the hourly fire watch reports from his recruits, Roy was at it again, readying for yet another reveille.
As the DIs here like to joke: It’s like the movie “Groundhog Day,” where every day repeats itself.
Leaving the small office at the end of the squad bay — a room packed tight with two government-issue desks, a couple of small refrigerators and a bunk bed with mattresses wrapped in green blankets stretched tight as drums — Roy glanced left and right through the open door. Coughs echoed through the darkened squad bay, a sure sign the infamous “recruit crud” had struck again.
And with the flip of a switch, Day 14 started at full speed.
Roy’s croaking voice filled the squad bay as he launched his 70 recruits out of their racks and into motion at 4:30 a.m. He lost his voice within a week of picking up Platoon 2112, his third platoon since becoming a DI.
“At first, I got splitting headaches when I stopped yelling,” Roy said as he watched the recruits piling their sheets neatly for the laundry. “But then when I started yelling again, the headache went away.”
It’s a harsh reminder that one of the Corps’ most coveted jobs is also among the toughest.
Like duty as a Marine Security Guard, recruiter or Marine combat instructor, a successful “B-billet” tour as a DI brings special consideration for promotion. Drill instructor duty remains the most sought-after of these special-duty assignments. There are typically more applicants than there are available spots.
The mystique of DI duty runs deep in every enlisted Marine’s psyche, but instructors here acknowledge that it’s also one of the toughest duties they’ve ever had — the kind that can break up marriages and cause chronic migraines.
So, for those fresh off a combat tour in Iraq or Afghanistan, serving as a DI is no vacation. The days are long and monotonous, the schedule relentless.
Keep it up for three long years, and it’s hard to imagine anyone wanting to come back. But they do.
“This is like deployment — a three-year deployment,” said 1st Sgt. Lawrence Fineran, the top enlisted Marine at the DI school here.
Though DI school officials say there has been a slight dip in the number of applicants in recent classes, it’s not because of a decline in the popularity of the duty. Rather, the ongoing war has made units reluctant to give up their best noncommissioned officers.
Still, Parris Island officials say they have plenty of DIs to train the more than 20,000 recruits coming through here each year. And, they add, wartime demands have opened DI opportunities to more Marines from job fields outside the infantry.
Back to the beginning
So you still want to become a DI? Well, get ready to go back in time. To the beginning of your life in the Corps.
The rumor among Marines is that drill instructor school is like boot camp all over again. Not true — it’s harder. The 56-day school is designed to put a DI wannabe back in a recruit’s shoes, so he can experience firsthand how he’ll be expected to deal with a fledgling Marine.
The school is heavy on academics and the strictly enforced rules that govern what DIs are allowed to do when guiding and disciplining a recruit. The record of abuse and injury of recruits over the years weighs heavily on officials here, and any belief that a DI can stretch the rules of conduct is eliminated early.
Physical training and close-order drill also occupy large chunks of the curriculum. Just ask Sgt. Diana Ruiz. The 32-year-old combat camera Marine tried to make the cut for DI school once before, but washed out after an obstacle-course injury 9½ weeks through the 11-week course.
Back at Parris Island for another try, Ruiz said she believes no one can really prepare for DI school. But that said, “you’d better make sure you can do the ‘O’ course before you get here,” she said.
Students live in posh quarters during the course, but they don’t see much of them. Early mornings of running, pull-ups, crunches and obstacle-course runs are capped off with long nights of studying and drill practice.
Instructors keep the volume and intensity high, keeping the students off guard and hectoring them for the smallest mistakes. It’s all designed to illustrate what DIs must do to keep recruits continually on their toes.
For many of the students, all sergeants, staff sergeants or gunnery sergeants, such treatment can be tough to swallow. As enlisted leaders in the fleet, they’re used to a certain level of deference; that’s not going to happen here.
“You can’t prepare for the shock factor,” said Sgt. Mark Morton, 23, an avionics technician from Okeechobee, Fla. “It’s one of the hardest schools in the Marine Corps.”
Measuring up
After DI school, the newly trained instructors get about 30 days of leave to put their affairs in order and make their move to Parris Island or the West Coast depot in San Diego for a three-year tour.
There, they join a team of either three or four DIs and run herd over a platoon of 50 to 70 recruits. The new DI, or “third hat,” must be prepared to work hard and stay on his feet for long days. As the most junior DI on the team, the third hat is responsible for the most tedious instruction duties and works the hardest of any team member.
“The first six months are the worst,” said Gunnery Sgt. Lon Stedman, who became a DI in January 2004 and is serving as company gunnery sergeant for the recruit processing company. “You’re on the edge of your seat all the time, because you can’t make mistakes.”
The platoon’s senior DI, along with the second-most experienced DI, known as the “heavy,” can pick up the slack sometimes, but much of the management of the recruits, such as moving them to the chow hall or the parade deck, is left to the most junior DIs.
The newest DI in Platoon 2112 knows all too well how tough it can be to measure up to the expectations of his team.
Sgt. Oranjel Leavy, 28, a finance technician, didn’t get along with his previous team members. The senior DI on his current team, Gunnery Sgt. Ed Bruno, decided to give him a chance after Leavy was halfway through his second training cycle.
“That first cycle — it’s a killer,” Leavy explained as he ran his recruits through drill movements in the hot Parris Island sun.
“Sometimes, people who got ‘broke off’ during their first cycle like to break it off for someone else during their first cycle,” Leavy said, using the DIs’ term for extreme physical or mental stress.
As Leavy drilled his recruits, Bruno and Roy surveyed, always looking for the slightest flaw. They’d pounce like angry wolves on even the slightest mistake, “kicking some stress” as Leavy called out the commands.
It was only 1 p.m., less than eight hours into what would likely be a 16- to 18-hour day, and still Roy, Leavy and Bruno were as intense as they were at pre-dawn reveille.
To keep their energy level up, they grab five minutes here and five minutes there for an energy drink or a Power Bar.
Breaks along the way
It’s not all go-go-go for three years straight; there’s typically a week-long break between cycles. Most DIs have to pick up a new cycle back-to-back at least once in their career, though.
And after five cycles or so, a DI will be assigned part-time duty for six months in a support command job, such as the swim tank or in-processing. After this “quota” period, the Marine usually joins a new team as the senior DI.
Even with the breaks, the duty can take a heavy toll. Bruno, a 34-year-old administrative chief from Harlingen, Texas, split from his wife after his first DI tour.
But Bruno shows no sign of bending under the pressures of a DI’s life. During martial-arts training on sand-flea-infested fields, Bruno wades into the fray, saying, “it’s time to go in and kick some stress.”
As he passes through a gaggle of recruits practicing chokeholds, the respect Bruno commands from his fledgling Marines is evident. All eyes turn when he speaks. Moves are mimicked exactly as he instructs.
After a quick march back to the barracks, Roy and Bruno have just enough time to change over from PT gear into cammies, gulp down a drink and check their e-mail, while Leavy squares away the recruits for a trip to the chow hall for lunch.
Leaning back in his chair, Bruno explains the role of each DI.
“It’s like a bus,” Bruno said. “The senior drill instructor has the keys, the second drives the bus, and the third is the bus monitor.”
For Roy, drill instructor duty has been rewarding, but even after his third cycle, each day is still a challenge.
“The hardest part is starting each day and getting up early — the lack of sleep and nutrition,” Roy said, as he gulped down a Mountain Dew “Monster” energy drink.
“But you have to understand that as a DI, that’s what’s expected.”
Ellie
100% intense
It’s a dream job — and it’s one of the Corps’ toughest. An inside look at the DI’s life
By Christian Lowe
Times staff writer
MARINE CORPS RECRUIT DEPOT PARRIS ISLAND, S.C. — It was only the second week of his platoon’s three-month training cycle, but the fatigue was evident in Sgt. Christopher Roy’s bloodshot eyes.
After a near-sleepless night in the drill instructor hut at the end of the squad bay listening to the hourly fire watch reports from his recruits, Roy was at it again, readying for yet another reveille.
As the DIs here like to joke: It’s like the movie “Groundhog Day,” where every day repeats itself.
Leaving the small office at the end of the squad bay — a room packed tight with two government-issue desks, a couple of small refrigerators and a bunk bed with mattresses wrapped in green blankets stretched tight as drums — Roy glanced left and right through the open door. Coughs echoed through the darkened squad bay, a sure sign the infamous “recruit crud” had struck again.
And with the flip of a switch, Day 14 started at full speed.
Roy’s croaking voice filled the squad bay as he launched his 70 recruits out of their racks and into motion at 4:30 a.m. He lost his voice within a week of picking up Platoon 2112, his third platoon since becoming a DI.
“At first, I got splitting headaches when I stopped yelling,” Roy said as he watched the recruits piling their sheets neatly for the laundry. “But then when I started yelling again, the headache went away.”
It’s a harsh reminder that one of the Corps’ most coveted jobs is also among the toughest.
Like duty as a Marine Security Guard, recruiter or Marine combat instructor, a successful “B-billet” tour as a DI brings special consideration for promotion. Drill instructor duty remains the most sought-after of these special-duty assignments. There are typically more applicants than there are available spots.
The mystique of DI duty runs deep in every enlisted Marine’s psyche, but instructors here acknowledge that it’s also one of the toughest duties they’ve ever had — the kind that can break up marriages and cause chronic migraines.
So, for those fresh off a combat tour in Iraq or Afghanistan, serving as a DI is no vacation. The days are long and monotonous, the schedule relentless.
Keep it up for three long years, and it’s hard to imagine anyone wanting to come back. But they do.
“This is like deployment — a three-year deployment,” said 1st Sgt. Lawrence Fineran, the top enlisted Marine at the DI school here.
Though DI school officials say there has been a slight dip in the number of applicants in recent classes, it’s not because of a decline in the popularity of the duty. Rather, the ongoing war has made units reluctant to give up their best noncommissioned officers.
Still, Parris Island officials say they have plenty of DIs to train the more than 20,000 recruits coming through here each year. And, they add, wartime demands have opened DI opportunities to more Marines from job fields outside the infantry.
Back to the beginning
So you still want to become a DI? Well, get ready to go back in time. To the beginning of your life in the Corps.
The rumor among Marines is that drill instructor school is like boot camp all over again. Not true — it’s harder. The 56-day school is designed to put a DI wannabe back in a recruit’s shoes, so he can experience firsthand how he’ll be expected to deal with a fledgling Marine.
The school is heavy on academics and the strictly enforced rules that govern what DIs are allowed to do when guiding and disciplining a recruit. The record of abuse and injury of recruits over the years weighs heavily on officials here, and any belief that a DI can stretch the rules of conduct is eliminated early.
Physical training and close-order drill also occupy large chunks of the curriculum. Just ask Sgt. Diana Ruiz. The 32-year-old combat camera Marine tried to make the cut for DI school once before, but washed out after an obstacle-course injury 9½ weeks through the 11-week course.
Back at Parris Island for another try, Ruiz said she believes no one can really prepare for DI school. But that said, “you’d better make sure you can do the ‘O’ course before you get here,” she said.
Students live in posh quarters during the course, but they don’t see much of them. Early mornings of running, pull-ups, crunches and obstacle-course runs are capped off with long nights of studying and drill practice.
Instructors keep the volume and intensity high, keeping the students off guard and hectoring them for the smallest mistakes. It’s all designed to illustrate what DIs must do to keep recruits continually on their toes.
For many of the students, all sergeants, staff sergeants or gunnery sergeants, such treatment can be tough to swallow. As enlisted leaders in the fleet, they’re used to a certain level of deference; that’s not going to happen here.
“You can’t prepare for the shock factor,” said Sgt. Mark Morton, 23, an avionics technician from Okeechobee, Fla. “It’s one of the hardest schools in the Marine Corps.”
Measuring up
After DI school, the newly trained instructors get about 30 days of leave to put their affairs in order and make their move to Parris Island or the West Coast depot in San Diego for a three-year tour.
There, they join a team of either three or four DIs and run herd over a platoon of 50 to 70 recruits. The new DI, or “third hat,” must be prepared to work hard and stay on his feet for long days. As the most junior DI on the team, the third hat is responsible for the most tedious instruction duties and works the hardest of any team member.
“The first six months are the worst,” said Gunnery Sgt. Lon Stedman, who became a DI in January 2004 and is serving as company gunnery sergeant for the recruit processing company. “You’re on the edge of your seat all the time, because you can’t make mistakes.”
The platoon’s senior DI, along with the second-most experienced DI, known as the “heavy,” can pick up the slack sometimes, but much of the management of the recruits, such as moving them to the chow hall or the parade deck, is left to the most junior DIs.
The newest DI in Platoon 2112 knows all too well how tough it can be to measure up to the expectations of his team.
Sgt. Oranjel Leavy, 28, a finance technician, didn’t get along with his previous team members. The senior DI on his current team, Gunnery Sgt. Ed Bruno, decided to give him a chance after Leavy was halfway through his second training cycle.
“That first cycle — it’s a killer,” Leavy explained as he ran his recruits through drill movements in the hot Parris Island sun.
“Sometimes, people who got ‘broke off’ during their first cycle like to break it off for someone else during their first cycle,” Leavy said, using the DIs’ term for extreme physical or mental stress.
As Leavy drilled his recruits, Bruno and Roy surveyed, always looking for the slightest flaw. They’d pounce like angry wolves on even the slightest mistake, “kicking some stress” as Leavy called out the commands.
It was only 1 p.m., less than eight hours into what would likely be a 16- to 18-hour day, and still Roy, Leavy and Bruno were as intense as they were at pre-dawn reveille.
To keep their energy level up, they grab five minutes here and five minutes there for an energy drink or a Power Bar.
Breaks along the way
It’s not all go-go-go for three years straight; there’s typically a week-long break between cycles. Most DIs have to pick up a new cycle back-to-back at least once in their career, though.
And after five cycles or so, a DI will be assigned part-time duty for six months in a support command job, such as the swim tank or in-processing. After this “quota” period, the Marine usually joins a new team as the senior DI.
Even with the breaks, the duty can take a heavy toll. Bruno, a 34-year-old administrative chief from Harlingen, Texas, split from his wife after his first DI tour.
But Bruno shows no sign of bending under the pressures of a DI’s life. During martial-arts training on sand-flea-infested fields, Bruno wades into the fray, saying, “it’s time to go in and kick some stress.”
As he passes through a gaggle of recruits practicing chokeholds, the respect Bruno commands from his fledgling Marines is evident. All eyes turn when he speaks. Moves are mimicked exactly as he instructs.
After a quick march back to the barracks, Roy and Bruno have just enough time to change over from PT gear into cammies, gulp down a drink and check their e-mail, while Leavy squares away the recruits for a trip to the chow hall for lunch.
Leaning back in his chair, Bruno explains the role of each DI.
“It’s like a bus,” Bruno said. “The senior drill instructor has the keys, the second drives the bus, and the third is the bus monitor.”
For Roy, drill instructor duty has been rewarding, but even after his third cycle, each day is still a challenge.
“The hardest part is starting each day and getting up early — the lack of sleep and nutrition,” Roy said, as he gulped down a Mountain Dew “Monster” energy drink.
“But you have to understand that as a DI, that’s what’s expected.”
Ellie