Jutted out square jaw,
horse gruff voice,
Smoky Bear Campaign
Hat pulled low almost
covering his intense
glaring eyes. Hat Brim
slung rakishly low,
three regulation fingers
above the bridge of his nose.
Criticizing profanities
hurled from his mouth
like exploding grenades,
tongue lashing orders
and corrections his
stock and trade.
Everything about
him is tight and
fully squared away.
Gets in your face
so close you can
smell what he had
for lunch, barking
spraying projectile
spittle that standing
at rigid attention you
cannot wipe away.
Hard earned lessons
taught and learned
that last for a life time.
Tormentor, teacher
mentor, hated at first,
respected and loved
by the end.
Perhaps every young dumb
aimless 20-year-old should go
through Marine Corps Boot
Camp, have the soft metal of
their backbones shaped and
pounded into hardened steel.
Dedicated to Gunnery
Sergeant D.L. Dolan
USMC. My Senior Drill
Instructor in Boot Camp.
Long ago passed away but
still fondly ever remembered.
Along with my father and
a football coach or two,
the most revered mentors
in my life. "The things that do
not **** us, make us stronger."