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Tribute to a Drill Sergeant


He stood there as we departed the bus,
Nobody but he could make any fuss.
First impressions are those that last,
And his was certainly made very fast.

He seemed larger than any in the crowd.
To ensure that all heard, he was very loud.
He immediately began barking out commands.
Which were heard throughout the land.
 
Speech was heard that was not very cool,
Words you had never heard in Sunday school.
An atmosphere of command was quickly in place,
And to question that authority would bring you disgrace.
 
Hours quickly turned into days,
As we began to learn his ways.
To regular hours and regular chow,
We readily adapted – somehow.
 
Activities of both mental and physical sort,
Required each of us to quickly contort.
Impossible it seemed each and every day,
To accomplish all that was thrown our way.
 
When it seemed that all energy was spent,
Another task from him was sent.
To even hint that it could not be done,
Was another victory by him won.
 
Day after day we labored through,
Finding things easier to do.
As pounds were perhaps lost and more energy found,
We came to realize that we were “graduation” bound.
 
The obstacle course was one final test
To discover ourselves at our best.
He stood there laughing as we would crash,
Or into the mud sometimes splash.
 
Finally, it all came to an end,
And that last day with him we would spend.
To finally realize that it was really done
And the impossible race had been well run.
 
Looking back after these many years,
With much satisfaction, and occasionally with tears,
That man who once seemed to have no heart,
Gave to many a fresh, new start.

 copyrighted 2008 by Dr. James E. Martin

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