Look at me during SOI (School of Infantry). I’m the one on the left. The guy on the right is Tater Tot, one of those stereotypical Boston guys with the thick Irish accent. Pretty sure he got kicked out shortly after…
I was 26. So while I was technically the ‘grand old man’, I felt so young, excited, vibrant and tan-lined.
Full of high hopes and big dreams of bathing in the blood of terrorists.
I was going to earn a Battlefield Commission, preferably after a Medal of Honor sprint across an open minefield, bullets spraying around me, trampling the weak and leaping the dead, reaching the far side and jamming my bayonet into some bad guys thorax and decapitating his buddy with my entrenching tool… then scrambling across the black sands of Iwo Jima, picking up a flame thrower, roasting a concrete bunker beneath swaying palm trees, the scent of roasting human flesh and sea salt in the air……..
Well – wrong war.
Anyways. God had other plans.
It was probably to procreate.
Because my kids are pretty awesome.