Marines are not cage fighters, and although we train in hand-to-hand combat, we train to kill, not to stop. We do not train in self-defense, we train to destroy, overrun, and dominate. It's not a fair comparison, because even a cage fighter stops when his enemy can no longer defend himself. We kill. But it's a different environment; what's appropriate on the battlefield is not appropriate in the ring or the dojo.
Our primary tool is not our empty hands, but a rifle:
There is nothing in all the world like a US Marine. Some fun quotes:
Every service has a 'special forces', and the Marines have Recon, but it's not the same; Marines *are* special forces. All of us.
And as any soldier who spent any time on a combined arms exercise or in a combat zone with Marines can tell you, you never fight one Marine. You take on one, you take on all. Army of One? No thanks. We fight together, we're a unit, a group, we're Brothers in Arms. We don't fight fair, we take what we want and paint "USMC" on everything that we capture from friend or foe. We do more with less and complain about it unceasingly from morning until night. The most dangerous Marine in the world is the one who has quit bitching, because now he's good and mad. Whereas soldiers don't like being called 'doggies' and sailors don't like being called 'squids', we have no problem being called Jarheads, Gyrenes, Leathernecks, Grunts, Canon Cockers, Mud Puppies, or Sea-Going Bellhops. We know it's just envy. Everybody wants to be one of us; most don't pack the gear. We don't take just anyone, and no one who enlists is entitled to call themselves "Marine" until graduation day. And once a Marine, we are that forever; it can never be taken away from us. There are no ex-Marines, there are no former Marines, there are only Marines and everybody else. If you're not a Marine, well, you're not part of the brotherhood.
We're the hub of the universe, baby.
Our dress blues are the best looking uniforms ever since the German SS. The Marine NCO in dress blues with the blood stripe and the NCO sword is a sight that makes women swoon. We kick *** and take names. We're heart-breakers and life-takers. We're a bunch of swaggering, insufferable, pricks, and that's how it goes. We walk it like we talk it.
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We're everywhere, still Marines, old and out-of-shape, working in every profession, hardly recognizable anymore. But one thing I know, one thing every Marine knows, is that if the crap hits the fan, we only have to call for our brothers and they will come running. No Marine ever turns his back on a brother. We are the real deal, there's nothing else.
To be a brother in that band of brothers is like winning the lottery over and over again every day for life.
I....need a cold shower. Night all.