Ft. Sill, OK – BASIC This story honors the memory of PFC Restrepo, one of the best soldier’s I had the pleasure of training with and calling friend. I was in 4th Platoon (Rough Riders). Our call sign at battery was, “Aw naw, hell naw, Rough Rider’s up and done it!” To our dismay, it always ended up sounding like, “Aw naw, hell naw, Rough Rider’s up the butt!” It took us a while to figure out why the rest of the company, especially the Drill SGT’s would bust up laughing when we’d get a call to attention, but I digress. Restrepo was part of 3rd Platoon. They were the most squared away of the battery. While the rest of the platoon’s would be standing at attention at the drill pad waiting to move out, sometimes upwards of an hour, 3rd Platoon would have a Drill SGT up their third point of contact smoking them to oblivion. The hard work always paid off though and 3rd Platoon won most, if not all of the obstacle course events we would navigate in training. (As well as having the highest PT scores and having the two honor soldiers by end of cycle). Even though Restrepo wasn’t a part of my platoon, you really couldn’t miss him. Big ass BCG’s and the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen on a soldier. He liked to carry a tooth brush around with him wherever he went…really one of those guys you don’t forget. Our Drill SGT’s came in all shapes and sizes. I’d say two of them definitely didn’t make tape when it came time for PT. Drill SGT K seemed to know he wasn’t on the fit side anymore and was constantly reminding us that he was “level 3 combatives certified, HOOAH?”. It didn’t matter. No matter how fit or fat they were, every single one of them kept up with us physically and mentally. During ruck marches they would suit up in full battle rattle and keep pace while younger, better fit men would fall back to the deuce in a half before being yelled at to pick it up, or being thrown up in the back for not keeping up. They would have to make up the march on the track by themselves if they wanted to graduate. I always wondered how guys like Drill SGT K and Drill SGT DJ could keep up with us in full battle rattle with their size. One of the reasons that might be will pan out later in this story. One of the Drill SGT’s for 3rd Platoon, Drill SGT B (I do not remember 3rd platoon’s name or the Drill SGT’s real name anymore), was a shorter, very fit and enthusiastic guy. During the CS Chamber he decided he would run through it too. After all of us had gone through, I remember watching him stumble out screaming at the top of his lungs while he’d double over hacking up all kinds of nastiness, much to the amusement of the rest of our Drill SGT’s. By our second FTX the Drill SGT’s were being a bit more lenient with us. You could approach them, with a battle buddy, to ask a question. It would either result in beating your face for a stupid question or a short response. Either would leave you all the more wise after the fact. The second FTX really seemed to be the turning point for our entire battery. Towards the end of the week I stepped outside of my platoon’s tent to find Drill SGT B sitting in a circle with some trainees, including Restrepo, laughing and playing a game of “I Spy”. As I was moving over to the circle it came Restrepo’s turn to come up with something to “spy” and with the biggest grin he could muster he looked away from Drill SGT B and said “I spy with my little eye…..” swiftly turning his head to stare at Drill SGT B “a MARSHMELLOW RUCKPACK!” Drill SGT B got wide eyed for a second before doubling over in laughter, and the rest of us didn’t get the joke, but him and Restrepo seemed to get a kick out of it. Later I found out from Restrepo that he had moved to pick up Drill SGT B’s ruck to hand it to him only to find that it was light as a feather and probably stuffed with a pillow or some clothes to make it look packed up. I guess that solves the riddle of why Drill SGT K and Drill SGT DJ would keep pace at their girth without missing a beat. I ended up going through other training with Restrepo and becoming battle buddies. He was the type of soldier that could pick up anyone’s day. This is just one fond memory of many I have of him. In Medic training he went out of his way to make sure other soldiers studied hard and because of this, failed his initial NREMT test. We pulled around him and made sure he was prepared to pass the next one, but he was just that guy. He was truly born to be a Medic. He is dearly missed now, and fun memories such as these are bitter sweet knowing he is no longer with us. Soldier Medic, Restrepo, I’ll never forget you. I hope this story honors his memory by bringing others a little bit closer to who he was.
Posted on: Wed, 05 Jun 2013 19:00:39 +0000
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