(Editor's note: This is the second of our Drummond Island series written by Hannibal himself for CadetStuff.org. At the end of this installment is another new feature: "Ask Hannibal". If you would like to quiz Hannibal on anything, send an email to Editor@CadetStuff.org and put "Ask Hannibal" in the subject line. Hannibal has promised to try to answer every letter.)

Ask any DI Ranger about their experiences on the Island, and they will eventually mention the rocks. Now, the Island itself is actually just one big rock covered with a very thin layer of topsoil. In most areas that we operated, the soil was only a few inches thick. Below that was pure dolomite.

This created several problems for us. Latrines needed to be dug where there was a hole in the dolomite. Since you never knew where those holes might be under the soil, you just had to dig at a dozen or so sites until you found one. Every time you slammed your e-tool into the thin soil and found rock, the shock waves would radiate up your arm and right into your elbow. After three or four tries, you began to ache. If you were lucky, you found a suitable site in the first ten places you looked.

There were also rocks all over the beach at Marblehead. In fact, they WERE the beach. These rocks looked like big hunks of concrete that had been busted up into foot long blocks. They were just piled every which way, and they made walking very difficult, especially on our battered feet. Their one utility was that they could be fashioned into small cooking surfaces. Sleeping on them was next to impossible.

There were also rocks in our swimming/bathing area by Duck Island. This was a smaller island that lay in a cove of Drummond Island. Carrying our shampoo and wearing only swimming trunks, we would march into the freezing water. I could never figure which part I hated more; the cold water making my body ache or the sharp little rocks ripping up my tender feet. I was always glad to finally get out of the water and get my boots back on.

But none of those rocks were the reason some DI Rangers still wince at the thought of their first week on Drummond Island. What we all remember are the "Parade Rocks". In the corner of the compound was an old well that had been dug long before the 77th RSU had arrived to set up shop. It had been filled in with rocks and some dirt, and even more rocks were piled on top of that. This was the Rock Pile.

When we arrived, the pile was about four or five feet high and ten feet across. The rocks were mostly rounded, although there were sharp rocks reminiscent of Marble Head as well. During our first week there, we would learn to hate that pile of rocks.

The rocks needed to be placed around the compound to designate different areas. They went around team areas, the command area, and later the "Line of Death" that surrounded the female billeting area. Any male cadet crossing the latter would immediately be sent home for insubordination. Because we knew a pregnancy would close the school, we made every effort to ensure we left the island with the same number of people we arrived with.

There was only one way to move the rocks. We had no wheelbarrow. The seniors were not going to allow us to use the weapons carrier. They certainly didn't want us wrecking it after it had survived a war and everything. That meant the rocks needed to be moved by hand.

They would line us up "fire brigade style" from the pile to wherever the rocks needed to go. We would then pass the rocks between us. No one was spared this duty no matter what size or shape. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but I always seemed to be between the two tallest guys in my team. Both of them were a good two feet taller, and several years older, than me.

My personal experience was this. I would turn to one guy who would toss me a rock. This boulder would come hurtling down at me, and most of the time I was able to catch it and save my shins from a battering. Then I would turn and toss it "up" to the next guy in the line. It was hard, sweaty, backbreaking work in the direct assault of the sun.

Because we had to move pretty quickly to please the staff, we had to work as a team to get the job done. We learned to compensate for our various strengths, heights and fitness levels. We all worked hard to hold up our end. No one wanted to be the guy that dropped the ball, or more accurately, the rock.

It seemed like a year of hard labor, but it was really like a day or two. When we were done, we had nice straight rows of rocks around the main base areas. We made many comments about not being marines, but we did the work.

The staff didn't really care about having rock lines. This labor was only a method of building teamwork and camaraderie among the three ground teams (not to mention a way to make us even more tired and hungry). Our team leaders provided the leadership and the goal, we provided the activity, and a job well done provided good morale and esprit de corps. It didn't hurt our physical conditioning either. Well, except all the bruising and bleeding...

I later realized that the rock line provided the same benefits that drill provides back at the home unit. It was a relatively uncomplicated task that required us to work together and follow orders. It also allowed us to see real progress being made so we could instantly feel a sense of accomplishment. When we were done, we had a base instead of just some clearing in the middle of the woods.

Most importantly, it showed us that we could count on each other to do our part. This belief (that everyone was doing his best for the team) was critical later on when the teams came under intense physical and mental stress. Instead of attacking each other and goldbricking, for the next two weeks we all did our best to meet the standard we had set in the rock line.

What had seemed a waste of time was really the foundation on which a team had been built. Because of the relatively extreme nature of the next two weeks, it was critical that everyone on the team gave everything they had for the team.

We worked as hard as we could, and only concentrated on the next rock coming our way. We were too tired and hungry to think about anything else. If we had known what was coming in the days to follow, we might not have volunteered for the school, but for the moment we were in blissful ignorance. It couldn't get any worse than working hard labor like some chain gang, right? Yeah, right...

Ask Hannibal

c/1st Lieutenant Michael G. Cox
Cadet Deputy Commander
Livonia Thunderbolt Squadron - Civil Air Patrol

Hannibal Responds

Hannibal was a famous leader who kicked butt on the Romans for many years. He is most famous for taking elephants through the Swiss Alps in order to attack the Romans from behind. The site of Hannibal's army, complete with elephants, so far to the rear sent the Roman defenders into complete disarray. He was an unconventional thinker who understood that logistics, command presence, and loyalty were the keys to success and victory.

As a young cadet sergeant, I had been inspired by the story of Hannibal, and I used to go on (ad nauseum) about Hannibal when talking to my cadets. Like young and inexperienced leaders do, I tried to apply the lessons of Hannibal to everything from wearing your uniform properly to running Ranger School. Several airmen started sarcastically calling me Hannibal behind my back. In true Group XII fashion, I adopted the name. I figured the best way to neutralize an insult was to embrace it and make it my own.

I have had several nicknames and call signs over the years, but this was the one of two I was saddled with during the DI years. The other was 'Kasha', which was a play on my name, but it was only used within my unit.

Since you brought it up, here are some other interesting nicknames and their origins from the DI period...

(Cue 'Glory Days' by Bruce Springsteen! - Ed.)

Da Maj (pronounced Da Mage) - This was the earlier nickname of the Colonel. Everyone in the Group and the 77th knew who you were referring to when you said "the Major" (and later "the Colonel"). Da Maj was used somewhat like the name "Top" is for first sergeants: only when in casual conversation. He was our Group Commander and DI was his baby. As with most charismatic leaders, he was both hated and loved, sometimes by the same person! For simplicity's sake, I will only refer to him as the Colonel in the series, even though he wasn't a LtCol until 1981. He was ex-military and served on Wing staff before taking command of the group. He died in 1982.

Band-Aid Billy - This was another senior member who served as the DI medic and medical instructor. He was almost as short as I was (which was really short), and I remember him as being funny and knowledgeable. I believe he was ex-military too.

Land Whale - This was a senior member who was a friend of the Colonel's, but who was disdained by much of the cadet corps. He was never on DI, but he was a part of the DI experience. We had a chant about him (based on the Land Shark skit from Saturday Night Live) that we would do almost every day on the Island. The chant also mentioned Land Worm and Land Minnow. I think they were the Bravo commander and another cadet staff member in 1980, but I could be wrong about that.

Eric the Terrible - Eric was Alpha Team leader in 1980 and earned this name because he appeared to treat his cadets like animals. A future DI Declassified story will tell what was REALLY going on. He was responsible for many DI "things" like the weird growl we did (based on a girl at his high school), the beret clad skull on the guard tower, and a little thing we did called "The Uncle Pervy Show". He was one of those guys who could command respect, enforce discipline, and make it fun all at the same time. He was one of my heroes as a kid, and he is a good and dear friend today even though he lives a continent away and spends much of his time flying around the world with the Air Force keeping us safe from the bad guys.

Baby Face - This was the nickname of the Charlie commander in 1980. He hated the name at the time (and probably still does). However, I saw him 4 months ago at a DI reunion, and he still looks pretty young. Of course, that's a good thing now!

Popeye - Alpha Commander in 1981 and the Cadet Commandant in 1982. He earned his name simply because he did a great Popeye impression. He is one of the funniest guys to ever ride the Raging Queen. He would literally have us crying and holding our sides sometimes. He later became an Army MP and then a civilian police officer.

PC (or Prince Charles) - PC was Bravo Commander in 1981 and Deputy Commandant in 1982. He resembled actual Prince, and his girlfriend sported a Lady DI haircut. We even had a royal wedding on DI in 1981. He was the youngest of the four Spaatz cadets to attend and lead at the Island. He is now a high ranking Naval officer.

Lady Di - The aforementioned girlfriend of PC who also happened to be a great officer and team leader. She became the cadet commandant halfway through the 1982 school. I got to know her well since she was on my team in 1981 (even though I was an NCO and she was a cadet captain).

Psycho - This was a cadet officer who was probably the most colorful character in a cast of incredibly colorful characters. He was a good guy who was older than the rest of us, but he definitely seemed to think he had joined MACV-SOG and not CAP. He slept in the Colonel's basement and it was rumored that was because his girlfriend's husband had burned down his house. He chain smoked, wore big teardrop sunglasses, and I don't think I ever saw him in anything other than jungle fatigues. He was one of the most popular guys in Group XII, and certainly the Colonel's most loyal and trusted man (among many loyal and trusted men).

The Clown - This was an NCO who was really thin. As a result, his jungle fatigues were huge on him like a clown suit. He was a really good natured guy and friend, and his nickname was not indicative of his performance as a cadet. He was rumored to have committed suicide, but we have recently just rediscovered him via the internet. We were all so happy to hear he wasn't taking the big dirt nap.

Dai Wi - that is Vietnamese for captain. Dai Wi was, without any doubt, the nicest and most decent guy in the Group. He was deputy commandant in 1981, but what he was most known for was his deep jodie singing voice and his morning "warm ups". Every morning in 1980, he would get up early and warm up his trumpet by making little tooting and farting noises into it. By the time he actually started blowing reveille, most of us were already awake and getting dressed. Sadly, he was murdered in Detroit while counseling a young man he had met through his church's ministry.

Some guys just had names that were a play on their real names (like Special K, Lancer, Duke and Roon). Others had names I didn't know the origins of (like Gooper and Numbnuts). Although most of the names were derogatory in some way, the only really mean one was The Football". This was the nickname of a female cadet who had dated several of the guys in the group (including me), and the joke was that she was passed around a lot. I never used her nickname, but it was persistent among those who disliked her.

Other people never had nicknames or call signs. Sometimes it was because they were simply the "grey men" who didn't stand out. Others were simply those people who were so professional and formal that nobody would call them anything but "sir" or "ma'am". A good example of that is c/1st Lt Alexander. She was so good that the cadets called her ma'am, and we staff called her by her first name. She was so cool and popular that she didn't need a nickname for people to remember her. I'm sure she had a nickname (almost everyone did at some point), but no one ever used it that I can remember.

I am a big supporter of nicknames and personal call signs. When you have that new name, you can leave your normal self behind and become anything you want. Sergeant Hannibal wasn't a highschool kid with a girlfriend, lousy part time job, and parents who were always yelling at him to let his hair grow longer. In the eyes of the airmen, I was just "Sergeant Hannibal" - strong, eternal and dedicated to their welfare and training. Like a mask, it allows you to safely try new things since it isn't really you. At least, that's the way I see it.

Hannibal