I crouched in the concrete foxhole and anxiously awaited the tower’s commands. As a freshman ROTC cadet on my first Leadership Lab weekend, I was eager to try out my marksmanship with the M16A1 rifle I clutched in my sweaty hands.

“Do you have any questions?” a voice asked gently. I glanced up to see the most fearsome soldier I had ever laid eyes on. His spit-shined jump boots sparkled like mirrors, and his olive drab uniform was starched and crisp. A well-worn green beret rested just above his steely dark eyes.

I had just met the man who would have the greatest influence on my military career: Master Sgt. Alfred “Slugger” Drapeau.

Drapeau was born in Rumford, Maine. He enlisted in the U.S. Army after graduating from high school, probably to avoid working in the town’s paper mill. After completing Special Forces qualification, Drapeau joined Project Delta in Vietnam, the forerunner of Delta Force. Although he once described how he operated behind North Vietnamese Army lines dressed in “black pajamas,” Drapeau wasn’t one to tell many war stories. In later years, I learned more about the heroic actions that earned him four Bronze Stars and two Purple Hearts.

Hero In Our Midst

As students at Fitchburg State College, Massachusetts, my ROTC buddies and I traveled 25 miles weekly to Worcester Polytechnic Institute, Fitchburg State’s host ROTC unit. In our sophomore year, we were delighted when Drapeau was sent to Fitchburg State to open an ROTC office and teach most of our military science classes. But less travel wasn’t the only benefit to Drapeau’s presence.

Drapeau first became a hero to us one cold, rainy afternoon. A senior cadet who was leading physical training thought it was amusing to order us to perform grass drills and situps in the mud. Suddenly, a green flash raced out of the ROTC office into the courtyard. Seconds later, we heard a booming voice, “Cadet, you will dismiss this formation immediately!”

As we sought shelter from the rain, we looked back to see the senior cadet doing pushups at Drapeau’s feet. Drapeau’s lesson was clear: Never abuse your authority to create undue misery for those you lead.

The Fitchburg State ROTC office soon became a haven. Drapeau always seemed pleased to see us, and he freely offered his advice, coaching and wisdom. But he taught us other things by example. For instance, he occasionally invited us to barbecues at his home. As we watched the affection he showed for his wife and daughter, he demonstrated that a warrior can also be a loving husband and a devoted father, and that close family relationships can be a source of strength.

Great Advice

His greatest gift to me came during ROTC Advanced Camp at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, now known as Fort Liberty, just before my senior year. The fast-paced training tested cadets’ leadership skills and also served to weed out those who weren’t cut out to be Army officers. I was struggling under a platoon sergeant who singled me out for special attention, and I probably deserved it. I found myself doing lots of pushups and extra details.

Drapeau visited our barracks in the second week. He took me outside for a walk and asked how I was doing. I responded by whining and complaining about how the platoon sergeant was riding me. Drapeau listened patiently with a slight smirk. Then he said, “Do you want to know a surefire way to get this guy?”

I nodded eagerly.

He beckoned for me to lean in close. Then he barked in my ear, “DON’T. MESS. UP!” He carefully explained that I gave the platoon sergeant power when I cut corners and made mistakes. I could win if I denied him the opportunity to catch my errors.

So, for the next few weeks, I concentrated on having the shiniest boots, the tightest bunk, the cleanest rifle; and the platoon sergeant found some other poor soul for extra attention. I had won.

Drapeau’s three little words were seared into my consciousness. For the rest of my life, whenever I faced a professional crisis, a personal challenge, a difficult military operation or even a tough family problem, I remembered those three words. They always led me to think smarter, fight harder, focus more clearly and never, never, give up.

Divergent Paths

In my senior year of ROTC, I chose to commission early and join the Massachusetts Army National Guard. I was eager to begin my career as a special education teacher, and the National Guard’s disaster-response mission appealed to me. Drapeau was disappointed, and he tried hard to talk me out of my decision. He said the Regular Army needed officers like me. I was flattered but determined to become a citizen-soldier.

On a snowy February night, with my future wife and a few friends looking on, Drapeau pinned two gold bars onto my dress green uniform. He returned my first salute but refused to take the silver dollar I offered. (By tradition, newly commissioned officers present a silver dollar to the soldier who first salutes them.)

Years passed, and I lost contact with Drapeau. He returned to Maine after retiring  from the Army and spent most of his time hunting. When I was promoted to brigadier general in 2010, there was one person in particular I was determined to invite to the ceremony. But I learned that Drapeau had passed away.

NCOs truly are the backbone of the Army. As such, they have many roles and responsibilities. But perhaps one of the most important tasks is to mentor junior officers. It may require great patience, skill and diplomacy, but good NCOs who develop junior officers shape the future of the Army—because sometimes, awkward cadets grow up to be general officers.

Next summer, I’ll travel to Rumford, Maine. I’ll place a brigadier general’s coin and a silver dollar on Drapeau’s grave. Then, I’ll stand at attention and render a salute in tribute to the man who made me a soldier.

Brig. Gen. Paul “Greg” Smith, Massachusetts Army National Guard retired, served as dual-status commander during Superstorm Sandy and joint task force commander during the Boston Marathon bombings response. He teaches counterterrorism and leadership at colleges in Massachusetts and has served as an instructor at the U.S. Army War College. He is the author of the forthcoming Confessions of a Weekend Warrior: Thirty-Five Years in the National Guard.