I am the Tank.

When you see me, I will, most likely, not be attired formally. I will be encased in my steel. It will be dirty, bloody, and battered. I do not have a quick tongue or eloquent speech. I know nothing of the manners of the King's court, or the etiquette of the formal ball.

I am known by many names. Tank. Meatshield. Fighter. Brawler. Corpse.

I am the Tank.

I have not the capability, nor the inclination, to hide. I cannot strike from stealth with devastating blows, then fade into the darkness. I cannot incinerate a foe from twenty paces away. I cannot deal death from a distance, safe from the return attacks of my enemy. In order to kill, I must close with the enemy. I see his eyes. I smell his breath. I taste his fear. And he tastes mine.

I cannot bend Nature to do my bidding. I cannot tap into the Nether and force it to do what I command. I cannot study the arcane and master it to my control. I command nought but my mind, my body, and my will. It is by those, and those alone, that I stand or fall.

I have no friends on my journey. No walkers of the void, summoned from the Nether as servants and bodyguards. No loyal beasts of the plains or woods, to defend me and comfort me in my pain. My sole companion is my weapon. I must care for it better than any hunter has ever cared for his beast. I must master it more than any warlock has ever mastered his demon. Without me, it is useless. Without it, I am nothing.

I cannot heal. I cannot shield. I cannot call upon the gods and see my prayers answered. I call to the spirits of my ancestors in the heat of battle, and they are silent. My only ability to protect is to offer myself, my blood and bone and sinew, as a sacrifice. To draw the attacks of our foes. To take the blows that would kill a lesser being, and continue to fight on.

I cannot kill with the speed and grace of the rogue, the suddenness and shock of the hunter, or the flamboyance and power of the mage. When I kill, it is a slow business. Slow and bloody for all concerned, myself included. I fight on, pummeled and battered so that my companions may receive the glory of the kill and the wreaths of victory. If I die and they yet live, it is an expected sacrifice.

I come in all races, all sizes. I fight under a thousand flags, on a million battlefields. I am dismissed by the highborn, scorned by the noble, lectured by the priest, and forgotten by the peasant. Until the time when the trumpets of battle sound, and those who would destroy them come forth. And then the cry goes up..."Where, oh where, is the Warrior?"

Pray to your gods that I continue to answer that call.

Few do answer the call. Fewer still survive. It is a long and hard road, this way of the Warrior. Along it lie pain, and fear, and death. Scant rewards and scanter gratitude. At the end, for most, is an anonymous grave on some windblown battlefield. If they are lucky.

And yet, I fight on. I do not even know why. Perhaps for glory, perhaps for fame, perhaps for money, perhaps for my country, perhaps for my family. Perhaps it is simply all I know how to do. But fight I will. Whether you appreciate it or not. Whether you even notice it or not. I will be out there, on the battle lines. Fighting. Killing. Dying.

I am the Tank.

Death is my business.

Be it yours...or mine.

There is discipline in A Soldier
You can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier
You hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier
You can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier
That he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier
That makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier
That beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man
Can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man
Buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after
An 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier
Even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first
And his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what
Comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian -
I am saying this to you.....
Next time you see A Soldier
remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land
Is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave
Protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier -
I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER
Thank God for what YOU do!

By Angela Goodwin

1. Cle is your left.

2. The Corporal never does anything for his/her own enjoyment.

3. This is not a Chinese parliament.

4. “Get it done” Is the favorite phrase of an NCO.

5. When on the ground, use the designated toilet area.

6. Do not stroll out 20 yards in front of your bivvy and go to toilet.

7. When getting ambushed in the night don’t start screaming “Charlie’s in the trees!”

8. Likewise, don’t start yelling “The Germans are coming”

9. Velcro is there for a reason.

10. Camo up everything is not to be taken literally.

11. The NCO is always right

12. The Officer is always right.

13. When Officer and NCO contradict each other, use better judgment.

14. If the NCOs wanted us to smile they would take us down to the armory and issue us all with smiles.

15. The sheep are not laughing at me.

16. The PDF however are laughing at my marching

17. Rumors should not be believed, even if the NCO/Officer starts them.

18. There is no such thing as a half-day in the army.

19. We are on government time.

20. Being hungover on duty is a chargeable offence, if you’re caught.

21. Mass parade will be made available to all persons.

22. Mass parade will take place only if enough people sign up for it.

23. Blank ammunition can kill.

24. It’s still safe though.

25. I will not trick the NCOs into saying they are firing blanks today.

26. I will not trick the new recruits into saying that they enjoyed their camp experience.

27. Despite my own opinion, Kilbride is not a deserted wasteland.

28. Participation in the “Fun evening recreation” is mandatory.

29. The Corporal does not like to be called “Corpy”.

30. Admin is the easiest thing in the world to do.

31. If the corporal can’t find you, he can’t give you a job.

32. The best NCO is the NCO who doesn’t know your name.

33. The worst NCO is the NCO who knows your name.

34. DJ + 2 different Battalions + Alcohol + Dancing NCOs + Curfew = Funniest night ever.

35. The 7th can’t dance.

36. The 21st can’t dance, but we give it a bloody good effort.

37. Under no circumstances will the chorus to the song YMCA be replaced with “The, F, C, A”.

38. Recruits will always be looking for the keys to the square.

39. And DPM paint.

40. It is not nice to tease recruits.

41. It’s damn funny though.

42. Never call the Military Police Parking Attendants to their face.

43. Don’t ask them where their traffic cones are.

44. Never try and hi-five an NCO. It will end in tears.

45. I am not special.

46. I’m still waiting for the long weight from the CQ.

47. We’ll get issued everything we’ll ever need…………..next week.

48. The Sergeant may be god, but even he shits himself when the BSM is about.

49. The chap who asks the guard commander can he go to sleep fifteen minutes into a 24hr guard duty is not someone you can depend on.

50. Can machines in the army will break down just as you’re given a canteen break.

51. 58 webbing, despite all the CQ’s promises, zip-ties, bungee cords and duct tape will fall apart five minutes on the ground.

52. Never tell the POT’s instructors it’s your birthday.

53. If you don’t have to run, walk.
If you don’t have to walk, stand still.
If you don’t have to stand, sit down.
If you don’t have to sit up, lie down.
If you don’t have to stay awake, fall asleep.

54. The greatest motivators in the army are the promise of pay, rest, the mess and the huge PDF corporal with the 12” boot’s threats.

55. The ARW snipers aren’t people like you or me. They are moving bushes who can hide anywhere and appear everywhere.

56. When the sergeant asks is everyone having fun, the correct answer is not “Very Fun, Sergeant!”

57. No matter what rank a soldier is, at least once in their career they have walked past a sheep in Kilbride faced it and went “Baaaaaaa!”

58.