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I heard all the cool marines post in here, or stopped posting. Guess that's what happened to i4r?
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# ? Jan 8, 2017 11:07 |
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# ? May 13, 2024 08:15 |
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We havent even gone to the field yet here in bridgeport and two people already hyped out
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 04:47 |
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Alex433999 posted:We havent even gone to the field yet here in bridgeport and two people already hyped out Is anyone sperging out about uniforms. We literally weren't allowed to wear some of our cold weather gear outside of our tents in Afghanistan
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 05:04 |
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No beanies after sunrise It's 30 degrees No beanies
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 05:05 |
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Every officer and staff nco is sperging about which warming layers and poo poo we can/cant wear. Two guys hyped out because they wore grid tops and sweaters, so now we are only allowed to wear the frog gear and goretex, and the goretex is only if its raining. Thankfully we all get to wear beanies all day hear but officers kept getting butthurt because they expected us to salute in them (???) So we had to have like a 20 minute brief after lights about why we need to salute in beanies.
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 05:10 |
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Deathy McDeath posted:I was wondering where you went Yeah I got a new job which saps all the joy and creativity right out of me. After a long day of scolding sexual deviants, meat-gazing piss tests, and generally pretending to be a person who "buys in" and "gives a poo poo", I just want to zone out on video games. .... jesus christ. I basically re-enlisted, but for shittier pay and a longer road to retirement.
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 05:17 |
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My leave was approved. Until I came back and they told me it suddenly wasn't. So I was
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 05:20 |
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Alex433999 posted:Every officer and staff nco is sperging about which warming layers and poo poo we can/cant wear. Two guys hyped out because they wore grid tops and sweaters, so now we are only allowed to wear the frog gear and goretex, and the goretex is only if its raining. Do the fucks leading the training not tell them to gently caress off?
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 05:23 |
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Alex433999 posted:. I'll take things that didn't happen for 400 alex
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 05:34 |
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Yeah that sounds pretty implausible.
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 09:21 |
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I've met more SNCOs that would try something that stupid than Os, but my experience is far from typical.
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# ? Jan 9, 2017 13:49 |
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jnP-sTDtMi4
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# ? Jan 10, 2017 04:02 |
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# ? Jan 10, 2017 04:17 |
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Redo that commercial now but make the car a mustang and the woman crippling depression and obesity.
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# ? Jan 10, 2017 07:37 |
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Man, that guy sure has quite the case of the not-gays, doesn't he?
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# ? Jan 10, 2017 08:04 |
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The pfc walked up to the atheist boot tenant and punched him right in the face; "God was busy defending americas military, who are protecting your right to make us salute in beanies, so he sent me"
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# ? Jan 10, 2017 12:58 |
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Meanwhile we fly one of the Company Commanders from Colorado to Missouri.
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 07:38 |
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Uroboros posted:Meanwhile we fly one of the Company Commanders from Colorado to Missouri. I know a reservist major who up until the end of last year flew from California to Pennsylvania to drill each month.
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 09:33 |
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St babs shout out We Artillerymen are indeed a very privileged group. In addition to the protection of our Patron Saint during life, we can look forward to our own special heaven after the sounding of TAPS. I refer, of course, to FIDDLER's GREEN. Down through the ages, all purveyors of the fire, members of the ancient profession of stone hurlers, catapulters, rocketeers, and GUNNERs, better known as Field Artillerymen, have discussed this special place in the hereafter, where someday each of us will be privileged to roam. There are as many tales of the Green as there are old Artillerymen; stories rich with the smell of gunpowder and campfires; and flavored with a taste of Artillery Punch. Imagine, if you will, a starry night, many years ago... In Gun Position 15 (which for you youngsters is now Artillery Firing Area 31) just after a coordinated illum mission, nestled in the shadows of the Regimental CP is a battery of smoothbore cannon camped for the night. As the campfires dim and the flasks of rum and lemon empty, the conversation turns to life in the hereafter. A rugged old section chief is surprised to learn that not all present have heard of supplies of GRID SQUARES, ST-1's, B-1-RD's; few have ever been sent to fetch a hundred meters of gun target line or for the combination to the firing lock; fewer still have been availed of the highest of knowledge; the greatest piece of Artillery lore; the Special Destiny awaiting all Artillerymen. As the young cannoneers listen intently, he shares with them the Legend of FIDDLER's GREEN. It is generally conceded, he explains, that the souls of the departed eventually end up in Heaven or Hell. Heaven lies about six klicks down the dusty road to eternity and can be reached by turning left at the first crossroad. From that same junction, Hell is about eight or nine klicks straight ahead. The road is easy to identify; it's the one paved with good intentions. A little way down the road to Hell, there's a sign pointing to a trail that runs off to the right of the main road which reads: When Artillerymen die, their souls form up in the battery area, where they are regrouped into gun sections. Then, they load their belongings onto a caisson or 5-Ton, whichever isn't deadlined, point their Advanced Party down that long road to Eternity and move out at the authorized speed limit (as set by the Regimental Motor Transport Officer). Like all crusty old Marines, Artillerymen face the call to eternal damnation calmly, and pass by the turnoff to heaven without a second glance... BUT, unlike the others, Artillerymen are met by a Gun Guide at the next turnoff--the road to FIDDLER's GREEN. The road to Hell, which continues beyond, is crowded with Engineers, Infantrymen, Aviators, and other miscreants, not to mention the droves of Sailors and Soldiers (of the non-redleg variety). It is at this point that Field Artillerymen bid farewell to their old comrades and wheel their teams down the trail to the Green. The Green nestles in a large valley spotted with trees and crossed with many cool streams. One can see countless tents and several large buildings in the center. Laughter can be heard from afar off. At the entrance are several long picket lines for the prime movers as well as picket lines of another kind with members of the local chapter of the Environmental Protection Agency. Oh well, at least Arty Mechs are on hand to service the pieces after the long march. There is a representative of the Almighty Great Gunner present to scan the rolls of the Orders of Saint Barbara and to attest to the fact that all who are seeking entrance are true Artillerymen. Once certified, true Artillerymen are met with open arms and immediately given a generous flask of that Immortal Nectar---Artillery Punch. FIDDLER's GREEN is a unique place. It is believed to be the only Heaven claimed by a professional group as exclusively it's own. (However, our Marine Corps brethren, those who didn't serve the Field Artillery, guard the streets of someone else's Heaven and call us if they need reinforcing fires.) The Green is a gathering place of rugged professionals. Their claim to fame is that they served their pieces well and selflessly while on earth. The souls of all departed Artillerymen are camped here, forever gathered in comradeship. In the center of their countless tents and campfires is an old exchange where liquor is free. There are Taverns and Dance Halls. Credit is good; no questions asked. There is always a glass, a friend, and a song. Daily routine consists of full time R&R. There isn't even a Command Duty roster. Everything is strictly non-regulation. The chow is plentiful and good, and.....there is no waiting in line. The main pastimes are dancing, drinking, and singing all day... and, well... dancing, drinking, and singing all night. The Green flows with rum, whiskey and pleasures known only to a few on earth. The Chiefs of Artillery, old Battery Commanders, Section Chiefs, and Gunners down through the Powder Man---they are all here. Periodically, an Artilleryman feels a compulsion to continue down the road to Hell. He repacks his gear, fills his canteens with Artillery Punch, makes provisions for his horse (or tops off the HMMWV) and bids farewell to his comrades. He departs for the main road, turning South towards Hell. He was not forced to leave the Green, but felt he must go of his own accord. HAH, do not despair my friends! Not a single Artilleryman has ever made it all the way to Hell, because their canteens of Artillery Punch are empty long before they make it and they have to return to the Green for a refill---NEVER again to leave. This then is the story of FIDDLER's GREEN. There are many versions. Of course, occasionally, stories circulate to the effect that the Green is shared with Sailors, Airmen, Soldiers, and Coast Guardsmen. Don't you believe it. Only the Officers and Men of the Noblest Arm, the King of Battle, the Field Artillery, could continue to enjoy the comradeship and spirit of their most honored occupation after death. Just as in life, where not all are privileged to be Field Artillerymen, so too after death, only these privileged few may enjoy the rewards of a special Heaven that is uniquely their own. So, fellow Artillerymen, as we Close Station, March Order to decamp the gun postion of life, having occupied this position in service to our great nation, we contemplate our movement brief and proceed with confidence that, protected by Saint Barbara, we need fear nothing. And even if we should collide with the rocks of temptation or bog down in the quagmire of sin, remember....our comrades will be waiting for us by the campfire at FIDDLER's GREEN.
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 12:40 |
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Former 0811 here, I went into the army as infantry so after my inevitable suicide you fuckers cant claim my soul. I bet it was some worthless loving chaplain who wrote that crap to begin with.
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 14:34 |
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I'm pretty sure I'd rather just become a flash game like kitten cannon when I die, if I was artillery.
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 15:24 |
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Perhaps kitten cannon is the truest form of artillery
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 15:35 |
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I hope that in the future we can load actual people into cannon shells as a form of living artillery so I can experience the pure visceral thrill of some GED mouthbreather sending me to my shrieking doom.
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 18:22 |
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Bunch of drunk Marines drinking and dancing at s campfire for eternity sounds mad gay. Like all dogs go to heaven but for what is (apparently) the gayest mos in the second gayest branch of service. Hot dog!
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 18:36 |
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So, just another day in the Corps
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 18:38 |
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Kawasaki Nun posted:Bunch of drunk Marines drinking and dancing at s campfire for eternity sounds mad gay. Like all dogs go to heaven but for what is (apparently) the gayest mos in the second gayest branch of service. Hot dog! Honestly it's pretty impressive that the Marine Corps was able to take the awesomeness that is Valhalla and through some, what is obviously dark sorcery turn it into something infinitely worse and a million times more homoerotic
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 18:52 |
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There's a reason why the Spartans are held in such high regard by the average Marine
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 19:16 |
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I don't know bout y'all but I don't want to die and head to a place where you fight and die for all eternity. Is there some Nordic equivalent of an afterlife where you get drunk, eat pizza, peep butts and pet dogs all day? Because that sounds like my thing. EDIT: That kinda sounds like an eternal barracks TBH
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 19:17 |
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Sounds more like a dorm than a barracks. I guess college is the active duty afterlife
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 19:57 |
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I think there is an alternative to Valhalla that's supposed to be a big party in that mythology
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 20:18 |
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FastestGunAlive posted:I think there is an alternative to Valhalla that's supposed to be a big party in that mythology That's part of Valhalla. During the day you murder each other, at night you drink and eat and bang.
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 20:28 |
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Oh word
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 20:47 |
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And then the end of the world comes along and it turns out Valhalla was just a force-on-force training exercise to get ready for the battles of ragnarok
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# ? Jan 14, 2017 20:54 |
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At least with global warming we don't have to worry about fimbulwinter.
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# ? Jan 15, 2017 00:08 |
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If you ask the future head of the EPA global warming is a myth, so fimbulwinter remains a real and ever present threat
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# ? Jan 15, 2017 00:24 |
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Internet Wizard posted:That's part of Valhalla. During the day you murder each other, at night you drink and eat and bang. Valhalla is the most metal afterlife. I wonder what music they listen to during their daily melee. I hope its Iron Maiden.
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# ? Jan 15, 2017 01:55 |
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The music is the death knell of the fallen. The sound of viscera hitting the ground.
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# ? Jan 15, 2017 02:00 |
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There was some king or some poo poo that was worried he wasn't gonna go to Valhalla so he started a war and got 40,000 dudes killed
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# ? Jan 15, 2017 02:22 |
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Was it Dick Cheney
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# ? Jan 15, 2017 02:30 |
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# ? May 13, 2024 08:15 |
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No, a king, not a jester.
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# ? Jan 15, 2017 08:19 |