Father's Day has always elicited that Banty Rooster...

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My father is a Warrior - Eleven Bravo...

 ... Infantryman.

I am the Infantry.

I am my country’s strength in War,
her deterrent in peace.

I am the heart of the fight –
wherever, whenever.

I carry America’s faith and honor
against her enemies.

I am the queen of Battle.

I am what my country expects me to be –
the best trained soldier in the world.

In the race for victory,
I am swift, determined, and courageous,
armed with a fierce will to win.

Never will I fail my country’s trust.
Always I fought on –
through the foe,
to the objective,
to triumph over all.

If necessary, I fight to my death.

By my steadfast courage,
I have won 200 years of freedom.

I yield not:
to hunger,
to cowardice,
to fatigue,
to superior odds,
for I am mentally tough, physically strong,
and morally straight.

I forsake not –
my country,
my mission,
my comrades,
my sacred duty.

I am relentless

I am always there,
now and forever.

I AM THE INFANTRY!
FOLLOW ME!

Thanks to SSG Daw's completion of Jungle Warfare School after years of training on the Big Island, Hawaii, he was extended an invitation to Vietnam...

Gallantry in Action, Tet, January 1968, awarded the Silver Star and ...

... designated KIA after his amazing heroic efforts, providing egress for dozens of his fellow soldiers...

Yes, Martha, my father was declared KIA, due to the Cloud of War, and he stopped getting paid (!)

My father was truly honored - and provided a better reward than that KIA designation - by his selection for the cadre at CMA.  

Jungle Warfare Special Operators, again, were ensured that trip to Southeast Asia...

Another lengthy absence from his family...

Upon his return to the States, a most demanding and unprecedented change in TRADOC awaited this combat veteran.

The Army leadership wanted my father's talents yet again at Fort Knox, preparing the Best of the Best for a paradigm shift in the basic training of United States Army soldiers.

Thanks to Jimmy Carter (!)

Perhaps the genesis of DEI and the illogical and demonic idea of women = men infected our nation at this point.

The idea of men and women serving alongside in combat units, discarding meritocracy, was given the green light by a Naval Academy graduate!

Again, the US Navy is the birthplace of the deleterious dogma so damaging to our national security seen in the last thirty years.

 There was envy among my fellow UTC ROTC cadets...

Many runs during my years at UTC, logging in hundreds of miles, proudly wearing the shirt my father sent from Panama...

Fort Sherman -

The Green  Hell.

I made sure the Black Hats at Fort Benning noticed, perhaps diminishing the hatred they had for cadets... 

*  Above image is not the actual T-shirt; could not find a picture of the yellow version I wore...

 Most often initial question:

"Where did you buy that...", their eyes widening...

That Banty was in full display when my proud response indicated that my father, Sergeant Major 

Ted Daw and Commandant of the NCO Academy at Fort Sherman, had provided it for me.

SGM Daw knew I would be surrounded by Manly Men, training to become Warriors...

His stature within the Army clinched my selection for a four year ROTC scholarship as a seventeen year old.

His knowledge of the top Senior ROTC programs in the country guided me to UTC.

My father knew that this program, responsible for one of the top Airborne Ranger Graduate % in the nation, had cadre who would appreciate the status of our nation's premier jungle operations training center.

Indeed.

All the cadre in my four years of ROTC at UTC were Airborne Rangers.  

Two were Green Berets.

Father's Day 2026 was preceded the previous day by a most important Birthday -

My beautiful Mother and the Sergeant Major's bride...

... now providing Overwatch with my incredible bride, Lisa.

My father was always working with his hands in various projects.

I was more than happy to observe and gain benefits that would be realized as I grew into a man.

Building my skateboards in Hawaii...

Designing triggers for my rabbit traps, competing with my cousins Eddie and Robbie Gurley...

Moving to Columbia, TN, in 1968, accorded me my first time to live in a completely civilian environment for multiple school years, 9-12.

This newly built 3 BR, full basement, brick house was constructed  in a pear tree orchard.  My momma made some truly delicious pear preserves, stored in those Mason jars.

I remember the day I was climbing up one of the larger trees in the front yard, shaking the branches along the way while Denise gathered the fallen jewels in a basket.

This bright sunny afternoon day was yielding quite a number of the fruity rewards.  Dozens of ripening fruit delights just waiting to be harvested...  

SFC Daw was overseeing the operation and his knuckleheaded son, pleased with our bounty .

He and I were both surprised when the branch on which I was standing, while venturing further and further out in order to shake the remaining two pears loose, broke  under my weight.

In the ninth grade, I weighed 165 # at football weigh in.

Enough weight to be snared by the Laws of Physics, and an approximate thirty foot drop ensued...

I reflexively reached for another branch, slowing my descent and allowing for further slowing via remaining branches.

I thought, "That was fun!" and saw SFC Daw with that approving look he displayed on special occasions.

The best part of that house in Columbia was its prominence as being at the top of a quite steep road, requiring mud grip tires for our cars when snow occurred.

But, oh my, what a great sledding hill!

No traffic and a long slow down strip after substantial speeds acquired....

I only damaged a knee in the three years of intense sledding...

My ex-girlfriend, Sherry, had a brother, Steve, who broke his left arm while he and I, on one sled, battled two others as we raced downhill in the back yard(s).

In order to construct these houses, railroad ties were used as landscaping tools, providing a terraced sledding experience.

Literally going airborne as we entered each yard was a blast.

It was unfortunate that Steve, whose turn it was to pilot our sled, slammed into a tree...

My 165 # body slid on top of his, fracturing his arm.  Ouch!

Maybe it was his right arm...

Steve was a good sport, clearly a Southern Manly Man.

With a beautiful sister.

Hearing Bryan Adams' 'Summer of 69' brings back memories...

I also built wooden go carts, utilizing destroyed roller skates for the front and wagon wheels and axle for the rear.

Steering was provided by a combination of rope and the rider's feet.

Again, that 165 # was probably closer to 180 # when I was giving Denise a ride and the front suspension system failed, resulting in my beautiful little sister injured yet once again...

Another of the many examples of 

God looking out for young Denise and this knucklehead was in Wahiawa, Hawaii.

Denise remembers her heel in Hawaii...

... with me riding her on my bike, she perched on my handlebars and her heels resting on the front axle.

Which gave Denise one or two inches to rest her heels.

Helmet?  We don't need no stinkin' helmet!

It wasn't the first, nor the last, time I was guilty of poor judgement.

In Hawaii, we rarely wore more than flip flops...

I believe I hit a bump, resulting in my little sister's heel slipping into the spokes of the rotating wheel.

Yikes!

Substantial bleeding was occurring; I was in front of a neighbor's house and rushed her to their door.

The nice lady (can't remember her name) bandaged Denise's heel and called my Mother.  My parents took her to the hospital for treatment.

Sorry, sis.

Anecdotally, I fell in love with Cocoa Crisps that evening, as the nice lady treated me such to take my mind off what I did.

She gave me two bowls...

My father was an expert fisherman.

I will always cherish those moments when the Sergeant Major would reel in some beauties. 

Chickamauga Lake, TN

Harrison Bay, TN

Woods Reservoir, TN

Santee-Cooper, SC

Rough River, KY

and many more fresh water locales...

Can't forget those salt water forays...

Pensacola and the Gulf of America provided some nice red snapper, redfish, Spanish mackerel, shark and more.

My stud friend, Dr. John Bastian, the 'Man in Black', Johnny Cash's dentist, was with us on one trip...

Again, I will always value my talks with my father.

But how many sons and fathers can discuss military subjects together?

Especially the father and son who were both in the United States Army...

... and infantry trained?

.

 How do you shoot a back azimuth in the jungle?

 Comparing exiting techniques for the Huey and Black Hawk...

 Yes, Martha, you are right....

Engagement of the enemy.