The Average Military Man
#1
The Average Military Man
The average military man
The average age of the military man 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, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country.
He never really care much for work and he would rather wax his own car than his father's ; but he has never collected umemployment either.
He's a recent high school graduate ; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activites, 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 hip-hop, or rap or jazz or swing and 155mm Howitzers.
He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at homebecause he is owrking 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 time in the dark.
He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively it 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 keeps 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 as weapons and 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 thanhe 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.
He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hats, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.
Just has his Father, Grandfather, and Great Grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom.
Bearless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.
Remember him, always for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.
The average age of the military man 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, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country.
He never really care much for work and he would rather wax his own car than his father's ; but he has never collected umemployment either.
He's a recent high school graduate ; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activites, 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 hip-hop, or rap or jazz or swing and 155mm Howitzers.
He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at homebecause he is owrking 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 time in the dark.
He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively it 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 keeps 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 as weapons and 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 thanhe 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.
He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hats, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.
Just has his Father, Grandfather, and Great Grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom.
Bearless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.
Remember him, always for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.
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