Fearful, dirty, sweaty, bloody, tired, angry, homesick, culture-shocked, and confused is the makeup of an Infantryman. A good Infantryman accepts, cherishes, and dwells in it.  It takes a certain type of person to be able to endure and make light of miserable conditions. 

The very first platoon I was a part of gave me an Infantry spirit. I know I didn’t have it initially, but our brotherhood and togetherness created it. It made impossible things difficult, and the difficult things bearable.  Our love for each other is what made it easy to stay up all night, walk miles upon miles, be away from our families, and accomplish our missions.  My original Battalion was the “Magnificent Bastards” in 5th Marines.  My “Bastard” brothers will be with me for the rest of my life. I now continue to try to pass this spirit on to the next generation of Marines.

I am glad I got the opportunity to try to fill some of the footprints of the Marines before me. I respect what they have done throughout history, and I also want to do my part to carry on their legacy.  If I could go back in time and do it all again, I definitely would.