A Marine to remember

By Christian Lowe / Times staff writer

He will be their worst enemy. And he will be their best friend.

They will admire him. And they will fear him.

And when it’s all over, they will remember him for the rest of their lives. How could you forget one-liners like this?

“Oh, yeah, now we’re a ‘bobble-head doll,’ huh?!”

“Are you wearing a black belt with brown shoes? You look like a retard.”

“I, see; it’s ‘Semper I’ now, right?!”

Gunnery Sgt. Ruben Velez, the rock-hard, square-jawed chief instructor for Charlie Company’s 4th Platoon leads a team of three staff non-commissioned officers who keep the more than 50 officer candidates in line throughout their 10-week Officer Candidates School course. It’s his job to teach them the intricacies of Marine life, to show them the structure of the Corps and to make sure they stay on track to earn their commission.

But he also serves an important role in demonstrating to the candidates how much an experienced NCO will mean to them as they command their first units in the Fleet Marine Force.

An instructor at Marine Security Guard school at Quantico, Va., Velez took a temporary assignment down the road at OCS. A past drill instructor, Velez served at Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island, S.C., so he knows how to walk the walk. But here it’s different.

“Down there at Parris Island, it’s all on us,” Velez says of his role. “Here, it’s all on them,” he said of the candidates, “they’re responsible for everything.”

It’s not his job to make a Marine; rather, his aim is bring out the Marine in these civilians. He yells just as much as any enlisted drill instructor, but he’s also looking for flaws and trying to determine whether a candidate will make it as a commissioned officer in the fleet.

“I work to mold their leadership style,” Velez says.

Building a team

At first, the would-be officers see him as just another thunderous voice in a cacophony of count-downs and unintelligible instructions. But soon they realize that angering gunny Velez is the big no-no.

After a horrendous showing in a pugil stick battle, candidate Michael Jiabia’s biggest worry was what gunny would do to them. By that point in their training, the candidates had grown to admire and respect Velez, and the fear on their faces as they glanced at him after each close-combat defeat was palpable.

“I don’t really want to go back to the squad bay after this,” Jiabia said, reflecting the universal desire not to disappoint their platoon sergeant.

But for as big a role as Velez plays in the shaping of the would-be officers, he also is responsible for keeping his staff of instructors motivated and on track. It’s been a few years since any of them were walking the squad bays of the recruit depots, so in the beginning, the routine is often a little shaky.

“It’s a lot different from being a DI, and some of my guys haven’t quite made the switch,” Velez said of the enlisted instructors in Charlie Company. “But we meshed well; we all know how to do this job very well.”

The platoon commander, Capt. Khari Wright, remains in the background for much of the instruction, stepping in only when his role is demanded. This hands-off approach is a measure of the professionalism of his enlisted team, Wright says.

But the staff does have a less serious side.

With just days left before graduation, the officers and enlisted staff of the company went out for a raucous night on the town in Washington, a tradition known as a “mess night.”

With the festivities at an end, the enlisted staff, led by Staff Sgt. Rodney Garrett, head back to Quantico and charge into the squad bay just as some of the candidates begin nodding off.

As Garrett, Velez and Gunnery Sgt. James Dixon pace down the squad bay shouting for everyone to get out on the parade deck double-time, the candidates leap from their cots and shuffle out the door, wondering what this late-night call is all about.

As the platoon lines up, eyes bleary from their shattered sleep, Velez, Dixon and Garrett begin to giggle, the other company staff nearby flash knowing grins.

Then, after a few minutes, Garrett breaks down. “Okay, everyone back into the squad bay,” he shouts.

Back in their bunks, the candidates laugh and joke with their enlisted staff. The hard edge of their relationship as instructor and student softened in the waning days of OCS. Each recounts a story about the other – laughter bottled up for nearly 10 arduous weeks spills out in floods.

But in a flash, it’s over.

Velez, the “father figure” of the platoon, breaks the spell, shouting for the candidates to get back in their bunks.

Life in the Corps is a complicated mix of informality and firm rules and roles. Gunny Velez may be the most beloved enlisted man on the staff to these officers. But he’s still a gunny, and for now, it’s his job to remind these officers of their place – and his.