THIS IS MY RIFLE. There are many like it but this one is
mine. My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must
master it as I master my life.
My rifle, without me is useless. Without my rifle, I am
useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot
straighter than any enemy who is trying to kill me. I must
shoot him before he shoots me. I will....
My rifle and myself know that what counts in this war is
not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, nor the
smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We
will hit...
My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus,
I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weakness,
its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and
its barrel. I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as
I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other.
We will... Before God I swear this creed. My rifle and
myself are the defenders of my country. We are the masters
of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it,
until victory is America's and there is no enemy, but
Peace.
TOUCHING MILITARY
POEMS
CLICK HERE
(This came from
the Infantry School at
Ft.Benning,GA)
THE QUEEN OF BATTLE
"We are members of one of the oldest professions in the
history of the world. However, from time immemorial
critics, historians and conquerors have looked askance at
the lowly foot soldier. Ingenious minds have long
endeavored to conceive something to replace us. From the
forgotten soul who invented the chariot, to the
development of the modern panzer division of tanks, one
idea has ruled the trend of war - crush the Infantry. But
we have replied - Abela, Crecy, Guadalajara and Stalingrad
are ours. We have a heritage that is equaled by none. We
do not have the glamour that the public has spread over
the Air Corps or the Navy; nor are we a specialized task
force as are the Marines. We are - the Doughboy, the
Dogface, the Poilu and the Tommy; the men who dig, fight
and die; the jack-of-all-trades; the men who must and will
win all conflicts. We are the riflemen who proudly wear
the crossed rifles, we will surmount all obstacles and all
barriers, alone and unaided if need be. For we are - THE
INFANTRY."
RECIPIENTS OF THE COMBAT INFANTRY BADGE WILL
ALWAYS BELONG TO A VERY UNIQUE
BROTHERHOOD
THE RIFLEMAN
FIGHTS WITHOUT PROMISE OF EITHER REWARD OR RELIEF. BEHIND
EVERY RIVER THERE'S ANOTHER HILL-BEHIND THAT HILL, ANOTHER
RIVER. AFTER WEEKS OR MONTHS IN THE LINE. ONLY A WOUND CAN
OFFER HIM THE SAFE CONFORT OF SHELTER AND A BED. THOSE WHO
ARE LEFT TO FIGHT ON,EVADING DEATH BUT KNOWING THAT WITH
EACH DAY OF EVASION THEY HAVE EXHAUSTED ONE MORE CHANCE
FOR SURVIVAL. SOONER OR LATER UNLESS VICTORY COMES, THIS
CHASE MUST END ON A LITTER OR IN A GRAVE. General Omar
N.Bradley
