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Thereís just something about the Infantry.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
The men of the infantry live in the suck. Endless road marches, mud, rain, snow, sleet, sand, crappy food, last minute missions, and no sleep are just the beginning of what is expected. Whether they be Army or Marine, there is a shared knowledge that you signed up for the hardest job in the military and excelled. You carried your load, embraced the suck, and if necessary, fought alongside your brothers in arms in way others will never understand.
Itís a brotherhood that lives across all generations. An OIF/OEF veteran will never claim to know what a Vietnam War or Korean War veteran went through, but he can at least land within the 8 digit grid. We donned the crossed rifles and became something greater than we ever thought possible.
Some of us gave the ultimate sacrifice in defense of our brothers in arms and the country at large.
And whenever we think of our fallen gravely-voice, barrel-chested, steely-eyed lost brother, we have to believe that:
Infantrymen donít die. We regroup in hell and kill the enemy twice.