One of my DI's in basic was barely the legal height to serve. Tough Viet Nam vet, airborne, combat infantry badge, etc ... When he would be chewing anyone out he would stand close enough that the brim of his hat would touch lightly against your chest. Then he would reach up and slap the bill of your hat to make sure you were paying attention. He was tough. He'd lay down on the gym floor, pick the biggest guy there and have him stand on his abs while executing perfect leg lifts and chewing our asses out. He was the one that always took us on marches and would walk our asses in the ground. It wasn't until the end of the cycle we figured out he would double step his own cadence. He drove a 67 Camaro, jacked up in the back with a burnt out Cherry Bomb muffler on the 230 straight 6.
Sgt Leslie T Boswell loving known as Buzz. His eyes were glowing red bloodshot every morning.
BTW, if you have ever seen the movie Stripes, you saw where I was in Basic. We were the last training company that cycled through those WW2 barracks before the closed and were used for the movie set.