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What is an 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, not old
enough to buy a beer, 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 hip-hop or rap 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 time in the dark.

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 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. 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 hat, or
even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day
out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

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 them, always, for they have earned our
respect and admiration with their blood.

Prayer Wheel

"Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands.
Protect them as they protect us. Bless them
and their families for the selfless acts they
perform for us in our time of need. Amen."

Of all the gifts you could give a US Soldier, Sailor or Airman, prayer is the very best one.