TBT: Doughboy

Now that, is a Doughboy.

The war to end all wars (Commonly known as World War 1) was finished around November of 1918. Which means that this office clerk, possibly born in 1902, received his Purple Heart at the tender age of sixteen. He could have also been born in 1900, which would have made him eighteenish, but who would've known?

Currently the Military can easily scan your Facebook page if it really wanted to check your age. Back then it was just a piece of paper that your mommy wrote.

I wonder if he ever used that medal to impress the ladies.

I'm sure he did.

I hope he did.

What a waste if he didn't.

"Let's get out of here and I'll show you my scar." is what he totally should have said at least a thousand times.

If there are any historical inevitabilities, it's that war happens and girls wanna see your scars.

However, if you're not the grab a gun and go to war type, then learn to cook. A man with a scar is one thing, but a man in the kitchen, well, sploosh.

If anything has changed, it's that we don't wear hats like that anymore (unless you're a forest ranger) and jackets don't have chest pockets anymore cause you don't really need a place to put your cigarettes. Cause you don't smoke.

I'll betcha he smoked.

I know his son, my grandfather, smoked.

My dad probably smoked once or twice, but soldiers are dumber than singers and I'm sure he gave it up before the pack was finished.

I smoked for a long time. Cause writers are dumber still.

All of us have cool scars.

How else could we have ever picked up girls?

My scar is cool looking, a three inch gash down the side of my cheek, but they don't give Purple Hearts when your baby brother scratches you with his finger nail. Damn thing didn't even bleed.

I've told so many lies about that scar I don't even really remember the truth any longer, cause , you know, girls.

Calvin's got a neat little scar across the bridge of his nose. He was hit in the face with a frisbee thrown by his brother at point blank range.

No Purple Hearts for frisbee damage.

He'll have to work on that story.

Dad got his in a brutal motorcycle accident, which is an awesome story, but you always have to be careful when hitting on girls who are turned on by motor cycles.

Cause frankly, you'll never be able to compete with a V-Twin engine.

That was a penis joke.

Nobody really knows why we called enlisted men 'Dougboys' It has something to do with something or other, nobody agrees on the etemology, but everyone agrees that it's a pretty terrible thing to call sixteen year old boys with notes from their mothers, so it was prompty changed to G.I. at about the time the German's decided to launch a sequel to the war to end all wars.

G.I. is short for General Infantry.

The 'Joe' part was later added because of how much they loved their coffee. Or something like that.

So the moral of this Throw Back Thursday is thus:

Sixteen is too young to go to war, no matter what your mother's note says.

Chicks dig scars, but they also dig pasta (Your choice)

Don't smoke.

Don't ride motorcycles . . . penis joke.

Don't play frisbee with my step-son.

And, if you like hats, the world really could use some forest rangers.

Only they can prevent forest fires.

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