(NSFW warning: Language and sexual references)

So, just to get a few laughs, I wrote down a few of the things my Drill Sergeants at Fort Jackson said.  I swear, I’m not making any of these up.  I swear, half of my Drill Sergeants could’ve made a decent living as stand-up comedians.  I wonder if any of them will see this.  Normally, I’d censor stuff like this, but if I did so here, it’d really kill the impact and the hilarity.

DS McManaway: “If you want to go to Sunday services, if that’s your thing, then by all means, go.  I can’t stop you, and I can’t force you to go.  Personally, I prefer to spend my Sundays at St. Lawngreen’s Episcopal Golf Course.”
Me: “You’re hardly dressed for that, Drill Sergeant.”
DS McManaway: “That’s because I’m stuck here babysitting you fuckers.”

DS DeGiorgio: “Get your arm off that table, or it’s going up your ass.”

DS McManaway: (to a white girl with cornrows) “I don’t know if anyone’s told you this yet, so I’ll just say it: you look like you got in a fight with a weed whacker.”

DS Lopez: (to me) “Whaddaya want, turd, since you and I are friends?”

DS Hawkins: (an attractive female, to a group of males enamored with her) “Wipe those shit-eating grins off your faces.”

DS Crosland: (to a recruit who just let out a loud fart) “Private, you’re nasty.  Go kill that fucking frog.”

DS McManaway: “Don’t go sitting around in the laundry room like a bunch of old ladies with your gray hair bundled up.”
PV2 Eldridge: “You’d know all about gray hair, Drill Sergeant.”
DS McManaway: (points to his own) “Help yourself, Private.  Maybe it’ll help with your receding hairline.”

DS Hawkins: “There aren’t any ‘girls’ or ‘guys’ here.  There are only ‘skanks’ and ‘douchebags’.”

DS DeGiorgio: “If I find a lone sock in a male barracks, I am NOT fucking touching it.”

DS McManaway: (a former Marine Drill Instructor) “Do you know who refers to it as a ‘cover’ and why?  I’ll give you a hint: in the Army, we call it ‘headgear’ because every jar needs a cover.”

DS Kremer: (the Meet and Greet Drill Sergeant, upon seeing a bus full of new recruits pulling up) “Oh, crap.”
Me: “My thoughts exactly, Drill Sergeant.”
DS Kremer: “It ain’t that; I just need my Union Break.”

DS McManaway: “Damn, the Captain’s handing out Article 15s like VD.”

DS Hawkins: “What the fuck, Private?  I asked you to think of something soft, and you looked me up and down.”

DS Cruz: “You write like a pedophile.”

DS McManaway: “Drill Sergeants stay on their assignments for two years.  I applied for an extension.  You fuckers are stuck with me for three years so I can retire in this shithole.”

DS Roach: (Hawkins’ husband) “That’s the biggest fucking box of Junior Mints I’ve ever seen in my life.”
DS Hawkins: “Shut your whore mouth!  I need these!”

DS Fuhrman: “Those of you who are being rejected because you blabbed about something like a personality disorder, if you’re planning on re-enlisting, then next time, pick a job where you’re supposed to be crazy, like Infantry.”

DS Hawkins: (to a group of males) “Look at the females here.  They are fucking ugly right now, aren’t they?  But I guarantee you, when you’ve been in Basic for seven weeks, these skanks will start to look like Beyonce.  So, keep it in your pants.”

DS Fuhrman: “Your first name is Jamesia?”
PFC Drew: “Yes, Drill Sergeant.”
DS Fuhrman: “Congratulations.  I never thought I’d see anybody make ‘James’ into a girl’s name.”