Meet the Marine vet behind Disney's 'Bambi'

Retired Marine Maj. Donnie Dunagan nearly made it through his 25-year career in the Corps without anyone knowing his secret.

But in 1977, Dunagan read some alarming news: Disney announced that “Bambi” would once again be released in the theaters — and for the first time ever, it was possibly going to include credits.

He instantly began picturing Marines taking their families to the base theater to see the cartoon about the beloved deer — and when they did, they’d see his name next to the words, “model and voice of Bambi.”

“If Disney does this to me, I can just see gunnery sergeants and captains writing home and saying, ‘Dear Mom, guess who my [commanding officer] is?’ ” he recalled in an interview with Military Times.

PBS doc shows darker side of Disney

Dunagan, a mustang, served in a host of billets during his time in the Marine Corps. He was once the youngest drill instructor in the history of the service when he was assigned to remain at Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego as a young private first class as part of an experiment. In 1967, he deployed to Vietnam with 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines.

Over the course of his career, Dunagan received three Purple Hearts. And he was tapped to serve as a counterintelligence specialist in the heart of the Cold War.

But before any of that, Dunagan was Bambi.

Q. Before you were the voice of Bambi, you played Peter in “Son of Frankenstein.” How did you get into acting as a child?

A. I was born in Texas, but we had moved to Memphis, Tennessee, after the Depression. A man would dance on the corner down the street from our little two-room flat. He could dance like you would not believe.

One day my mom took me down there and I started imitating him. We became a duet, and soon after there was a major talent show in Memphis. I won the darn thing. Someone in the audience got in touch with my parents asking if I could go to Hollywood to audition for a couple roles — they needed a runt kid like me.

Q. What do you remember about working on “Bambi?” 

A. I spent months in front of the illustrators. “Look left, look right, look afraid.” When Bambi is kissed by a doe, he gives a look of disgust. We spent an hour on that look. “Look like something bad has happened,” they’d say. But I was having the time of my life. Finally someone said, “Pretend like you just had castor oil.” That did it.

Walt Disney was a wonderful guy. I remember he was very concerned about forest fires and wanted to give the forestry department an icon for billboards to raise awareness. He offered the image of Bambi, and took me to the meeting in Los Angeles. “Look at this face,” he said. “This is the face of Bambi.”

Q. How did you keep all of that a secret from your Marines for two and a half decades?

A. I stopped acting a few years after “Bambi,” so I didn’t talk about it or even think of it much. I really lost my childhood. I was on my own and in an orphanage by the time I was 9 or 10 years old.

Once in a while something would remind me of that time period, especially around Halloween. I’d see images of Frankenstein and would think about that movie. But it wasn’t until 1977 when “Bambi” returned to the theaters that I really thought about my time working on that movie.

Q. Did anyone ever discover your past?

A. The commanding general of MCRD San Diego called me in just when “Bambi” was returning to theaters. He wanted me to audit some auditors on base. Now I never said a word back to him, but I was busy as the dickens and said, “When am I going to do that?”

He pulled his glasses down and patted a red folder on his desk from an old security clearance I had from years ago.

“You will audit the auditors, won’t you, Major Bambi?” he said.

Guess what dumb infantryman audited the auditors then.

Q. We have to ask since you played America’s most beloved fawn — do you ever hunt for deer?

A. No. I am vigorously opposed to hunting for the sake of fun. I’ve seen some terrible things in west Texas all for the sake of trophy hunting.

I remember being at Marine Corps Base Quantico, Virginia, in 1972 when a couple guys were just killing young juvenile deer just for the sport, and I challenged them on it. Now if deer is in season and the meat is going to a legitimate cause, like the Salvation Army or Meals on Wheels, I’m OK with it.

Maybe I was influenced by Disney. He was adamant about these types of things, and I remember that well.