I voluntarily enlisted in the Army just at the end of the draft era and the draftees were the biggest bunch of dimwits, criminals, and layabouts were never before seen in one place at one time (even more than Washington, DC or your average Democrat city). The peace-time draft army was, as Hedley Lamar put it: "rustlers, cut-throats, murderers, bounty hunters, desperados, mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, halfwits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, con men, Indian agents, Mexican bandits, muggers, buggerers, bushwhackers, hornswogglers, horse thieves, bull dykes, train robbers, bank robbers, ass-kickers, shit-kickers and Methodists."
I had several young men transferred to my platoons, those who had real problems with authority. I never had a problem with them, though. First, I gave them a clean slate. Two, I told them in no uncertain terms I was the platoon leader, and I expected them to learn how to become good soldiers. Three, if they couldn't work for me, I'd ship their rear ends to our sister battalion in Mannheim. They were attached to the 1st ID (Big Red One), and spent 8 months in the mud at Grafenwoehr. We were airbase defense, and our barracks was on an AF base, where the mess hall made omelets to order for breakfast. For most, it was an easy choice...lol.
In the days prior to his arrival in my platoon, I encountered a soldier fresh off the mean streets of Chicago. He thought it would be funny to drop his M-16 within eyesight of an evaluator during an alert. I walked over to him, looked him dead in the eye, and said, "if I see you do that again, I'll shove that rifle up your bleep-bleep-bleep."
He gave me a look of "displeasure", lol, and I informed him, "you may have been #1 on your block, but this is my neighborhood."
Two weeks later, he was transferred to my platoon. I never had a problem with him during the six months I was his platoon leader. Within six weeks of my move to another job, he was transferred out of the battery. Damn shame.