The Infantrydude talks Hygiene and Shit

Once upon a time, I was a dirty, nasty, filthy, stank ass Infantryman. Out in the field, it’s highly possible to find grunts that haven't brushed their teeth, washed their ass, or done anything to clean themselves or smell good. The fucked up thing is, there are people all around you who live this way. How many times have you run into an old friend at work and ran up to give them a hug or handshake, but happen to notice a foul but yet disturbing smell coming out of their mouth. It smells like a cross between Rosie O’Donnell’s ball sack and the alleyway behind a Chinese carry-out. I say to myself, "It can't be humanly possible for this person to not taste foulness and evil inside that mouth". You try your hardest to cut the conversation short but fail at every attempt. This person is not only long winded but giving you filthy smelling wind that’s killing your lungs in the long run. And don’t get me started on long winded people. I can do a whole fucking blog about people that talk too fucking much. "SHUT THE FUCK UP" You know what you are; you’re a god dam time thief. Your stealing my time with your extra long fucking sentences. Sum that shit into a sentence or a paragraph, do an about face and move the fuck out. Anyway, back to the actual blog. Some people have to remember that brushing your tongue is actually a part of brushing your teeth in the morning. The next time someone starts talking to you and their breath stinks this is what you say, " Hold on buddy, let me stop you right there. Your breath is disrespecting me and is making my internal organs feel bad. I'm not sure what food, drink, or dead animal’s ass you ate but I am strongly considering calling the police and asking the FBI to put you on a terrorist list. I will offer you a whole entire pack of gum or a gas mask. Why are you doing this to us? I don’t disrespect you so why would you allow your breath to do it to me." Let’s move on to the art of washing your ass. Some people absolutely need to shower every single day and some can go an extra day. If you’re walking somewhere and a person passes you and as soon as they pass your nostrils and lungs you get the smell of extra strength body odor. According to law you can make a citizen’s arrest and you should and why you ask? That person has fucked up your thought process. You were walking along thinking of great memories and awesomeness, and stinky mcstinkass stopped you from thinking that and forced you to think about what body wash to suggest to them. Let’s move on over to ashyness. Ashyness can affect all people but is more visible on people of color. You should never walk out the house looking as if your skin is thirsty and you just showered in a bodywash that mysteriously sucks the water out of you, puts it in a glass, throws some ice cubes in it, sits on the side of the bed, watches you get dressed, pulls out and lights a Virginia slim menthol, and in a English accent says, " Same place and time tomorrow?" Let’s make a detour to the person that sweats for no fucking reason. Are you ever standing in line like at a grocery store or something and look at the person in front of you that has neck and back sweat.  They look as if they decided to do their shopping with the pace of a 7 minute mile run with sprints at the end.  How in the fuck are you sweating in a climate controlled environment that requires you to push a damn cart?  You need to double up with your shirts because my kids don’t need to see that shit.  What about the people that have sweaty hands when you give them a hand shake.  Hey, did you rub one off before you shook my hand or what.  How can your fucking hands sweat?  Is it possible that they are a separate entity of your body who like to work out before every handshake? I highly recommend that if you are this person you either, where mittens or a shirt that says, “I give sloppy handshakes that will possible cause you to not shake my hand again”.  Let’s end with be all of all things….FEET.  I am the Infantry dude and I have put a shit load of rough miles on my feet.  Why are people walking around with feet that look like Mike Tyson’s fist?  If you do decide to show your feet out in public do us all a favor and make sure they are up to standard.  Men are just a guilty as women are.  You should never wear open toe shoes and your feet look like you just did a 25 mile ruck march with no socks and boots that were 2 sizes too small.  You crusty foot bastard.  The moral of the story is, Hygiene not only affects you but the people around you as well.

Facebook, tell me you love me

I remember a few years ago when I started my Facebook page.  It was such a thrill to be able to catch with friends from school and Soldiers that I served with.  Facebook helped to answer that question of, "Whatever happen to ........"  But it seems that some of the thrill has gone, at least according to me.  Not a day goes by without someone posting some overly depressing shit.  Most of the time it’s the same people.  Its always, "poor me, I hate my life, men ain't shit, women ain't shit, and I hate my job."  Not to mention the people who's relationship status changes back and fourth at least once a month.  Some people just flat out need to be and feel loved.  So they post something to feel that love and validation.  Don’t get me wrong, I love posting stuff on Facebook.  But I try to post things that are funny, motivating, or something for veterans.  Nobody should visit your Facebook page and feel sorry for you.  Granted there are things that happen in our lives that are bad...I got that.  But if every other post on your page is some sad depressing shit, you need to turn around take a knee and drink water because you're fucking up.  I mean, its your facebook page and you can post whatever you want.  My motto is, " Don't post anything that you wouldn't say in front of an audience or the people on your friend list.  Shit you think life is bad for you, go find a wounded warrior. Trust me, they ain't whining about shit, missing limb and all.  They are happy and motivated to live life.  Who the hell are you to complain and whine about dumb shit.  Did you ever stop and think that maybe you're the fucking problem.  Maybe the reason you cant seem to get shit right is the because of the person in the mirror.  Do understand, bad shit happens in my life just like everybody else.  The difference is, I'm not going to spread that shit to anybody else.  I don't need anybody feeling sad for me, I rather you motivate me and give me guidance and direction.  How many times have you visited someones page and saw some sad bullshit?  You take time out of your day to reach out to that person and help them.  They ignore your extended hand like a fine chick at the club lol.  All they wanted was your sympathy and your attention and know that they have it ...you can go fuck yourself.  About two weeks later they do the same damn thing again.  If I extend a hand to help you and you ignore it,  I will not be extending it again.  You could ignore their post and even block it.  I personally don't block people's feeds on my page.  To be honest with you, its a reminder to me of how not to be.  The truth of the matter is, we need these people in life.  Just like we need night and day as well as the air we breath.  Not everyone in life is perfect and has good days everyday.  However, if there is a pattern of negative sad tell me you love me bullshit you need to stay away from these people.  They always say, "Misery loves company" and the person who came up with that saying is dead on.  Like I said before, its your page and you can do whatever you want.  Just remember that the person reading it is saying something along the line of, "  This person is a fucking loser".  If you want someone to love you, validate you, or fester in your depressed life, you should start with yourself.  Ain't nobody got time for that bullshit.  I got work to do, mouths to feed and get back to my job of motivating the masses. If your not here to inspire, help other, and be a positive person that people can come to....Punch yourself in the neck cause you're fucking up.  Some of you may say, " This guy thinks he knows everything and acts like his shit don't stink".  Guess what, I don't know everything...just enough to appear as if I do.  And my shit does stink however, it goes in a toilet and I flush it afterwards.  I don't carry it around for all the world to see and smell. 


In closing I say this quote.

It is the destiny of the weak to be devoured by the strong.”
― Otto von Bismarck

 

My Fathers Shirt

Some of you may have read my other blog titled, " The Hug From Mother".  Its only fair that I followed up with a blog about my father.  Just like my mother, my dad grew up here in Washington D.C. and wasn't very affectionate either.  He didn't grow up in the best of situations when he was younger but made the best out of what he had.  From what I remember as a young child, he wasn't a man of many words.  If he told you he was gonna do something, he did it.  If you needed something, he gave it to you.  One of the things I loved about him the most it no matter what time he came home in the morning on the weekends, he made sure he got up to cooked breakfast for us.  Despite having a hangover we never had a hungry morning or day for that matter.  He also made sure that we never wanted for anything and always provided for us.  Although I wanted love from my mother,  I wanted something different from my father.  I wanted him to be proud of me.  Growing up in Washington DC isn't the easiest thing to do.  Lets just say you have a lot of options to be whatever you wanna be.  I had been working since I was 16 and upon graduation, I decided to join the army.  Well being stationed out in Hawaii, I would always send pictures back to my family.  One of my favorite pictures is of me with a M203 Grenade launcher at the  shooting range   Well fast forward to December 2003,  on my way back to Hawaii from R&R in DC.  I was sitting on  my flight back Oahu,  I couldn't help but wonder what my father thought about what I was doing.  The few times  I visited them, he only asked a few questions about my life in the army.  I knew I only needed two things from my parents, to be told I was loved and to be told he was proud of me.  When you are a deployed Soldier, its hard to call back home when you're actually out doing shit.  With that being said,  I didn't call home a lot and when I did, I didn't talk long.  In February 2005, out tour in Iraq ended and most of us were happy to come back to Hawaii.  But a big portion of us had family in other places.  It was time for me to visit my family back in DC and was looking forward to it.  However, I still never knew were my dad stood with what I had made of myself.  I landed at Washington Reagan and was on my way to see my parents.  When I got out of the car I could see my dad in a distance.  As I walked towards him I noticed something, he had a black t-shirt on.  And on that shirt was the picture I sent him years ago with me holding the M203 when I was at the shooting range in Hawaii.  My mother said he would wear that shirt all the time and would always tell people that he had a son fighting in the war.  It was his way of showing that he was proud of me.  It was the t-shirt that told the story.  I could look in his eyes and tell that he was happier for me to be home than I was.  As the evening came to an end, he told me that he was proud of me and that he loved me.  That meant the world to me.  And guess what,  I told him that I was proud of him as well.  I took a lot of great things from my dad and learned a lot from him.  Since I was stationed in Hawaii most of my career, my parents never got to see any of my promotions ceremonies.  Well in 2010,  that all changed.  Not only did my family get to see my promotion but my dad pinned on my rank as well.   Whats funny about life is we all have our own way of telling people we care about or something along those lines.  It might be in a verbal form or it might be printed on a shirt.

P.S.

It's never too late to tell your child that you're proud of them.

The Hug from Mother

My mother had me when she was fairly young.  I grew up to be a reincarnated version of her.  Growing up, my mother wasn’t a very affectionate person.  But the affection that she lacked, family gave me.  Her priorities were different when I was a young child but she did the best she could.  The very first hug I got from my mother happened when I called myself running away from home.  I ran away at the age of 10 from the babysitters house to my grandmother's house which was 3 miles away.  When she finally found out she rushed to my grandmother's house.  She yelled at me for a few, then preceded to spanking that ass.  After the spanking she gave me a hug.  Fast forward to the year December 2003 after we got word that we would be heading into Iraq in January, we all went on leave to visit our families.  I didn’t mention much to mother about leaving and going to Iraq.  I just told her that I would be heading over to do nothing and hangout for a year.  I remember sitting at the house with her and doing my will and power of attorney.  She kept saying she didn’t understand why she had to fill one out if I was going over there to do nothing.  But, somehow someway, we managed to fill both of them out.  As my days on leave started to come to an end,  I could tell that she maybe knew I was full of shit about going over to do nothing.  She started to realize that her little boy, her first child had become a man.  She knew that there was a high possibility that she may never see him again.  The dreaded day had come for me to return back to Hawaii and start the path to head into the middle east.  She drove to Ronald Reagan Airport and we didn’t talk very much on the ride.  I didn’t know what to say and I'm sure she didn’t either.  As she put the car in park out in front of departures,  I went to the trunk to gather my things.  We walked towards each other and I told her I would call her when I got back to Hawaii.  She reached out and gave me a quick hug.  A hug no different than what you would give a neighbor or a person you first met.  When the hug was done, she looked at me with a tear in her eye.  Reality had set in.  She pulled me back in a gave me the long hug as she cried and I cried with her.  I had grown up to be a young man, but at the moment I was her child.  The hug she gave me that day, was the hug I had waited my hold entire life for.  It was what I had been missing, to know that she still cared for her first child.  Walking into the terminal, I looked back to see if she was still there.  She was.  I had a doubt in head.  Was this the right thing to do.  Did I want to go over to war just to die.  So that my brothers may live and come home to their families...I would.  I showed the ticket agent my ID Card, accepted my ticket and made my mind up.  I was going to war.  And if I were to lose my life in defense of my brother or my country.. I knew that my mother loved me.

Thank you Pink Floyd

All words in red are lyrics from Pink Floyd Songs

Most people who truly know me know that I'm a huge Pink Floyd fan.  Allow me to take this opportunity to tell you how it came to be.  When I got to my duty station 12 years ago in Hawaii, my first roommate was a guy named Johnson.  We had our fair share of partying and got into more shit than you could ever imagine. Johnson and I were conjoined at the hip.  One of our favorite things to do would be to blast music and get shit faced.  Johnson loved music just as much as I did and til this this day the only white guy that can dance his ass off.  He introduced me to music artist such as, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Rage Against the Machine, and Hank Williams Jr.  I remember us drunk as hell in the barracks singing, "Family Tradition" with our hands around each other as if we were singing a duet.  One day he played a song named, "Money" by Pink Floyd.  I must admit that the song was very catchy but was a bit weird with all the extra background effects in the song.  He played more songs by Floyd but the music fell on deaf ears.  I simply couldn't relate to it and none of it made any sense.  As years would progress, I would play that exact song on occasion but when never venture into any of their other music.  Fast forward to the year 2004 when my life as well as many young men changed as we were sent into the pits of hell.  Not to fight for our country, but to fight for the men to our left and right to make it home.  I wont go too far into how that deployment was, I will just say it was interesting.  When we finally came back to Hawaii, I made a choice that it was time for me to leave active duty and return to Washington DC.  I struggled mentally and emotionally to find myself in this brave new world.  Even though I had been here before, I just felt as if I didn't fit in and belong.  I couldn't make sense of anything that happen to me nor who I was as a person.  I didn't see that young boy with that happy smile.  The person on the other side of the mirror had a different look in his eyes. (Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky) Song: Shine on you crazy diamond.  I didn't know him, but I knew him if that makes any sense.  As I struggled to make sense of everything, I realized that I had fears such as being in crowds, loud noised, certain places, or anything that would remind me of that place.  One thing that I noticed is that I had a fear of darkness.  That world showed us that bad things happen, but they mostly happened at night.  (Threatened by Shadows at night, Exposed in the) Song: Shine on you crazy diamond.  Many a night I would hear the smallest noise while I slept and would lock and load my handgun and search for an enemy that wasn't in my house, just in my head.  There are lists of other things that I did during this difficult part of my life out of fear but, I won't be sharing those for criminal reasons.  One of the things I would always do is look at old pictures of me when I was a child and my first few years in the army.  (Remember when you were young, You shone like the son) Song: Shine on you crazy diamond.  It would always make me happy and would sometimes get me out of a dark place.  My dark place was interesting, but for the most part I did a good job of hiding it from others.  I knew something was wrong with me when my brain would venture back and fourth between that world and here. (Nobody knows where you are, how near or how far) Song: Shine on you Crazy Diamond.  One day, a friend of mine at work overheard me listening to the song, "Money" and decided to make me a Floyd mix tape.  To be honest with you, I had no plans on even listening to the cd.  On the way home from work one day after I ran through all the music I had in my car, I decided to listen to the cd.  As I popped the cd in, I told myself that what ever came on I would listen to it all the way through.  The voice in the speakers went through my ears straight to my brain and soul. He  said, " (Hello, is there anybody in there.  Nod if you can here me.  Is there anyone at home) Song: Comfortably Numb.  That was the first time I was ready to start piecing together the puzzle, and I knew who would be helping me along the way.  After listening to that song you couldn't pay me to not have Pink Floyd in my car.  The more their music spoke to me, the more the puzzle came together.  When the puzzle came together, so did the tattoo's.  Just about all of them are Pink Floyd album covers, lyrics, or screenshots.  I figure its the least I could do to thank them but at the same time use it as a form to express who I am and how I felt. I remember a few years ago when I  had my first idea for a Pink Floyd tattoo.  Most artist looked at me if i was crazy and wouldn't take the chance on doing it.  But one artist name Dave, took that chance with it and didn't judge me.  I honestly think he was more excited to do it than I was.  When he was finally done and I looked at it,  another piece was added to the puzzle. We enjoyed working with each other so much that I got 10 more over the next few years including a sleeve from my knee to my ankle.  Each of my tattoo's has a story about something related to that world and I thank Dave for turning those pieces of paper into amazing tattoo's.  In closing,  I will say that most of you have been through something in you life and made it through it or can at least see the light at the end of the tunnel.  This, is just the story about mine.  Although I have found a lot of pieces to my puzzle, I will never find them all.  That world that I left will always have a few of them just to remind me that it existed.  But at least now I have enough pieces to make out what the puzzle is.


All that you touch
All that you see
All that you taste
All you feel
All that you love
All that you hate
All you distrust
All you save
All that you give
All that you deal
All that you buy
beg, borrow or steal
All you create
All you destroy
All that you do
All that you say
All that you eat
everyone you meet
All that you slight
everyone you fight
All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
And everything under the sun is in tune
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon.
Song: Eclipse


This is dedicated to my brothers no longer with us and the ones who are fighting the battle inside them...I say to you...be strong for one day you will Shine On You Crazy Diamond.......

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A Womans Dream of Marriage

Marriage is an interesting thing.  At least for the Woman it is.  Every since they were little girls, marriage was pushed on them.  Barbie I think had a husband named Ken but that was the fakeout because Ken was hanging out with He-man and Lionel from the Thundercats lol.  But back to the topic, Most of all the toys and games that little girls played had some sort of a marriage, wife, or girlfriend type theme.  You can even look back to the days of playing house.  Your character wasn’t single, you had a husband and you did what you thought life consisted of.  As you got older it all started to become clearer.  Society told you that you had to get married, have kids, have a house with a picket fence, be a soccer mom, and have a large SUV or Minivan.  As a woman you will do whatever you have to do to ensure that this happens.  Now there are a few defectors who decided to do none of the things above and or alter a few of them and that’s perfectly fine.  But majority get sold the dream and work their entire lives to achieve this.  No let's talk about the single women's hunt for the husband and family.  Most women create this super perfect model in their head that looks like Denzel or Brad Pitt, with the body of a Gladiator, the smarts of Bill Gates, and a father like qualities of Dr. Heathcliff "Cliff" Huxtable from the Cosby show.  The funny thing about that is...This person that you have created in your head doesn't exist.  Even if he did you have to be Solid and good looking enough to pull that type of a man.  Looking for a man is like shopping, " you would love to buy something from Neiman Marcus, but Walmart is more in your price range".  Once you find a good man, you do everything in this world to hear these statements,

Will you marry me

I pronounce you man and wife

I'm pregnant

It’s a boy or Girl

We are new home owners  

We need a minivan or big SUV

You work your whole entire single life to hear those things.  Some of you have heard those things a few times.  But remember, those are the things that society has engrained in your brain.  If you decide to change or not comply with any of those things,  people will look at you as if  you've done something wrong.  People get so caught up in what a traditional marriage consist of.  The bottom line is you have to tweak your marriage to benefit BOTH OF YOU.  Now once a woman achieves all of those goals,  the question becomes what are her new goals now that she has these things.  The bottom line is, most women don’t create new goals.  According to them, why should they.  They have fulfilled their dream  they've worked their how entire life to achieve.  That my friend is the beginning of a failing marriage.  The woman must establish new and recurring goals. The most simply one is to maintain all of those things you worked hard to get.  Just because you have them doesn't give you the right to slack on your duties.  You have to keep those things to include but not limited to your husband.  Most women tend to think, "Well now that I have him he will automatically stay here.  I call bullshit, because I have seen men walk away from a marriage that has 4 kids because the wife lost focus. Now I know some women are like I should do a blog about men and their quest for marriage.  Here is that blog, " We don't have a quest for marriage, only to reproduce and keep a low stress level in life". Whatever happens in accordance with those things are fine as long as its minimal drama and stress.  Also, Men aren't big on planning, why because that's stressful.  Majority of men are just good ole plain simple:).  If you are fortunate enough to have those things in life, the journey doesn't end there.  You have to do your part to keep them:)

1st Official Blog

Well Well Well..Its been a long time coming.  Starting a blog has been something that I have been thinking about for a very long time.  I have always been told that I had pretty awesome way of delivering a message and getting my point across.  With the help of FaceBook friends and old battle buddies asking me to start a blog....... I bring you, "Thoughts of a Predicated Infantryman".  I like to post on a variety of things and promise my blogs will never be boring.  Most of all of my blogs will be based off of things that I witness or random thoughts that I have throughout the day.  I will only post stuff that myself or others will enjoy.  Many factors will play a part in how often I update the Blog and I will do my best to give you the goods:)... With that being said...... Lets roll right into the fact that Outback Steakhouses Steaks.........of all things taste like hot shit. How in the hell does your Brown bread you serve in the beginning just to make me full to offset those small ass daycare portions better than your steaks.  You specialize in steaks....How can you guys fuck that up.. Its like Papa Johns Pizza tasting like shit, but the box it came in is was well designed lol.. I mean don't get me wrong,  The New York Strip looked amazing, but tasted like they didn't add not a sprinkle of seasoning.  As a matter of fact, "Chili's" Rib Eye taste pretty damn good and they don't specialize in steaks...They are better know for that gay ass baby back rib song, a place to get shit faced, and the lovely Molten Chocolate Cake.  And might I add, one scoop of ice cream is never enough for me, so I always order an extra scoop.. They charge two bucks for that like they got a midget in the back churning that shit from scratch.  In Infantry Language... "HOW THE HELL YOU  DONT KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SHIFT AND LIFT  FIRE"  but the Airforce dude is tracking what it means...... Its your specialty..you sure as hell better be good at it.  As a guy,  you have to do a few things to keep your masculinity up and eating a steak is one of them..  Do you have any idea what people thought when they walked pass and saw a half eating steaks but a sweet potato with nothing but skin left on my plate...the complete opposite of masculinity.  Bottom line is...don't go to outback for steaks..go to  Chilli's for midgets and ice cream:)

No Loaner Car for you

Just dropped my car off for service..The customer service there is super suspect.. how the hell you don’t have loaner cars. I'm Michael...and they trying to treat me like I'm Tito. "Mr Huggins you can have a seat in the waiting area well we get your paperwork ready"....Muthafucka I'm just dropping the car off...I aint come here to have coffee and doughnuts and shit. Gonna ask me if I'm gonna wait the two hours at the dealership......."Da Fuck outta here" I'm in Uniform..do I look like I wanna wait two hours..Do I look like I don’t have a job...Do I look like a Homemaker ..Do I look like my wifes a light Colonel and I just stay at home and raise 15 year olds...Do I look like im worth millions... if I was trust me the car I would be servicing would cost $375.000. This Fucktard gonna ask me, "how's protecting the country going?"....Muthafucka I sit behind a desk and wear cologne in uniform and cross my legs when I sit...i got duel monitors for Christ sake..I aint put a round down range since President Bush's first term....The good news is my service was complementary:)

Gorilla Monsoon

As I lay in bed sick from a common cold or dehydration... I share this award winning thought with my veterans of battle.........." As you went into that world.. To fight for your brothers and or your country....the world gave some of you a gift..and that gift is a gorilla.. The gorilla is a beautiful animal that people adore but they also posses the power to be destructed and down right deadly...o...

n some days you are in charge of the gorilla..and some days he controls you. Sometimes he walks beside you..sometimes he rides on your back..sometimes he wears camo and nobody noes he's there... But people know you are carrying something heavy..you work your body out to be able to carry that weight... But your body can only carry so much before it breaks down.....the gorilla can be gentle and affectionate ....but can also flip and be hurtful and dangerous ..you can camouflage all you want..but the weight and pain of carrying will also be there ..you must be in control of him...he posses the power to kill you and others...he's an Animal... That's what you needed to survive that world........you have taken him out of his native habitat...and know u expect him to play nice with you and others... If you train him and help him be use to being around other people he will stand a chance...but if not...HE WILL BREAK YOU AND OTHERS...you can never ever get rid of him.. He is your blood..he is your son..he helped you survive..the least you can do is return the favor...he saved your life...now save his....teach him to be loving and kind and gentle...teach him to not be ashamed of how he looks ..teach him to never forget where he came from..but to understand it and accept....for one day he may need that strength that kept him alive in that world.....to keep him alive in this one. Don't keep him on your back..don't put a leash on him...be proud of him and teach him to walk beside you and stand tall with his chest out...maybe the world didn't give it to u..maybe you had him all along..maybe he was always there ...maybe the Machine groomed him because they knew that world would need him...and you did..but the machine didn't teach u how to control him when u left that world and possibly left the machine..some of you are still in the machine..but its hard notice that u have a gorilla when everyone has one.. Or sometimes you come here ..to garrison...and realize your the only one Carrying a wild beast...never the less.......he is your child...you are responsible for him...stop blaming shit on him..stop letting him bully you and others.. And help him:). After all ...He is I....and I am him...stay thirsty my friends. 

The Army Combat Action Badge

Just FYI...The Combat Action Badge and the person who came up with the idea is gay (not the people who actually wear them) or if you were assigned to Infantry Guys you are good to go:).. Every time I see that badge..in the back of my head I'm like, "its looks so gay" Here is the bottom line..Some Loser higher up with no badges on his chest got tired of looking at the Infantry dudes with CIB's and said to himself, " I know I get a Combat Patch, but....but I wanted something to wear on my chest since I don’t have the balls to go to a school and earn something. Us non-infantry deserve something other than a combat patch..we are engaging the enemy too..I wish I had the balls to be an infantryman". And whats with Soldiers saying dumb shit like, " We did the same shit the Infantry Dudes did" And whats you point buddy...I worked with Spec Ops Before..And guess what I don’t get a Long Tab because of it. .. If I do buddy Aid under Fire do I get a Combat medic Badge.. The answer is no. Anybody can get hit by the enemy..But there are certain MOS's that can maneuver in ways unknown to man.. Just ask yourself this..When your POG ass get jammed up and the only answer is boots on the ground..no SF or Air Support.. Who you calling..Those Same Dirty nasty filthy stinky crazy ass dudes that you talk shit about and make fun of cause they out there doing PT in the Combat zone while you talk on the phone with your Family all day. When you see someone with any badge or award..feel free to ask him how he got it..And here is the catch.. If he knows you well...He might tell you..If he don’t know you..he wont tell you shit and might even get hostile with you lol...Ask any Infantryman where is the worst place he's slept, Longest he's gone without eating, Longest he's been without washing his ass, The most amount of shit he's carried, the worst he's been treated by another MOS, The longest he's walked, how many times he's trained and slept in terrible weather conditions..there are select MOS's who because they are assigned to Infantry Battalions or Brigades..They have to go through all the shit I just described just like We do. And I say we..I don’t serve as an Infantryman anymore..in fact my new MOS is Aviation.. But being an 11B isn’t just an MOS..ITS A WAY OF LIFE. We all have our Job's in the Army:) Be proud of YOURS:) Combat Action Badge = GAY!