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The Infantryman
The average age of the Infantryman is 19 years.
He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who,
under normal circumstances is considered by
society as half man, half boy.
Not yet dry behind the ears, but old enough
to die for his country. He never really cared
much for work and he would rather wax his
own car than wash his father's; but he has
never collected unemployment either.
He's a recent High School graduate; he was
probably an average student, pursued some form
of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy,
and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up
with him when he left, or swears to be waiting
when he returns from half a world away.
He listens to rock and roll or jazz or swing
and 155mm Howitzers. He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter
now than when he was at home because he is working
or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.
He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is
a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle
in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less.
He can recite to you the nomenclature of a
machine gun or grenade launcher and use either
one effectively if he must.
He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply
first aid like a professional. He can march
until he is told to stop or stop until he is
told to march. He obeys orders instantly and
without hesitation, but he is not without spirit
or individual dignity.
He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues:
he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his
canteens full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets
to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle.
He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes,
and fix his own hurts.
If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you;
if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his
ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.
He has learned to use his hands like weapons and his
weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life --
or take it, because that is his job.
He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half
the pay and still find ironic humor in it all.
He has seen more suffering and death then he should have
in his short lifetime. He has stood atop mountains
of dead bodies, and helped to create them.
He has wept in public and in private, for friends who
have fallen in combat and is unashamed. Just as did his
Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying
the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy.
He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this
country free for over 200 years. He has asked nothing
in return, except our friendship and understanding.
Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect
and admiration with his blood.
He is an INFANTRYMAN!
Author
Unknown
Dedicated to all the men and women,
in all branches of the service,
who have fought, or are now
fighting to keep our country safe.
to keep it the great country that we are....
God Bless all of you.
and
God Bless America
*ZIPLO*
American Medley
Only Believe
I'd Done Things
Different
Please
sign my guest book before you leave
Tabby and I love to hear from you...
Thanks
*ZIPLO*
 
Tabby and I
hope you will
come back real
soon....
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please fill in information below...
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November 2002
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