It's a brotherhood unlike any other. It's the job that's remained unchanged for thousands of years. It is the infantry.
It's hard to explain to those who haven't worn the crossed rifles. The idea that the only limit is what must happen isn't normal. It's unique to the insane community that is the Infantry. If you have to do a 30-mile movement on foot all night and then go right into a mission then you do it. If you have to jump from one op to the next, you do it. If you have to go without food or sleep, you do it. Whatever is necessary to get the job done, you do it. And you do it without hesitation.
Sometimes that means pulling triggers, sometimes it means jumping out of airplanes or sliding down ropes, and sometimes it means talking to the locals, fixing roofs, and getting water running again. It is the most amazing place on Earth. The job description may be to close with and destroy the enemy, but we all know the real job is to do whatever it takes to complete the mission.
Our fraternity is extensive - great businessmen, heads of state, scientists, and professors. When we leave the job, we manage to fade back into society, but our ethos always remains. We work late. We don't let others down. We never quit until the job is complete. And no matter how far removed we get from it - wives, kids, professions, when we get back together, we are all twenty again, rearing to go. And we all agree on one thing: it's the hardest, most miserable, and most demanding job we ever had, and we wouldn't have traded it for anything.
It takes a special person to serve, but it takes an outright masochistic lunatic to sign up for the Eleven Series.
And we wouldn't have it any other way.
God loves the infantry.
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