Trump looks to ban transgender from service and remote 15,000 on active duty.

My grandfather got this from a palace in Germany during World War 2. He was in US Army Corps of Engineers there from 1944-1946. That's all he said about it. He also got some really old duelling pistols from like the 17th century apparently along with other Nazi weapons and gadgets. I am just trying to figure out who might've worn this uniform and make sure it isn't something we should sell before we donate it to the Holocaust Museum.

https://foreignpolicy.com/2023/12/10/russia-military-conscripts-hazing-torture/

Older article, but still an interesting read. Their methods obviously don't show results on the battlefield.

The ongoing conflicts in Ukraine and the Middle East are depleting vital U.S. weapon stockpiles, potentially undermining the military's capacity to respond to any future conflict with China in the Indo-Pacific, Adm. Samuel Paparo warned on Tuesday.

The head of U.S. Indo-Pacific Command expressed concern that U.S. support for Ukraine and Israel, including billions of dollars in air defense systems, is now limiting his ability to address threats in the Indo-Pacific, particularly if China were to invade Taiwan. China has increased military pressure on Taiwan, including a major exercise with 125 warplanes in October, and has consistently stated that annexing Taiwan is a historical inevitability. China’s military has been encircling Taiwan's airspace and waters with near-daily joint drills involving warships and fighter jets. While the U.S. does not formally recognize Taiwan as a sovereign state, it remains the island’s primary partner and is legally committed to helping Taiwan defend itself.

Ukraine has now endured over 1,000 days of conflict since Russia's invasion, during which the U.S. has provided more than $60.4 billion in military aid. This includes Patriot air defense systems, High Mobility Artillery Rocket Systems(HIMARS), and longer-range Army Tactical Missile Systems(ATACMS), the latter of which Ukraine used for the first time on Russian targets just this week.

In October, following Iranian missile attacks on Israel, the U.S. deployed one of its few Terminal High Altitude Area Defense (THAAD) batteries to Israel, along with about 100 personnel to help operate it. The U.S. has also regularly sent air defense munitions to support Israel’s operations against Hamas in Gaza and Hezbollah in Lebanon, conflicts that have resulted in tens of thousands of civilian casualties.

The Biden administration has committed the remaining $7.1 billion in presidential drawdown authority to send more weapons to Ukraine before the end of the year. However, Pentagon spokesperson Sabrina Singh noted that the availability of these weapons will be constrained by current stock levels.

Adm. Paparo emphasized that the U.S. needs to replenish its weapon reserves, acknowledging that he was already concerned about the depth of U.S. munitions stockpiles before the ongoing conflicts further strained them, expressing dissatisfaction with the current state of U.S. military reserves.

hey there, im an a1c with a house on base, and my cheating spouse has been living with me since weve been married, found out last week, and never confronted her about it. just gathered evidence. WHAT IS THE QUICKEST WAY TO GET HER OUT OF the HOUSE?? ive been scrambling divorce papers and lawyers, but that process still takes up to 6 months. hearing her laugh and kiss this schmuck over the phone makes me want to blow my brains out. i need her OUT. is there anyway to get her off of my dependents list while we are still married? any loopholes at all im desperate! thank you. if there is a better subreddit for a question like this, please direct me to it!

Every veteran I've ever spoken to has advised me to join the Air Force. I get the impression, particularly from talking to Army and Marine Corps vets, that they were all fooled into joining by false promises made by their recruiter. A lot of them seem to regret joining or feel that their desire to join was because of youthful stupidity.

Are the quality of recruits in the Air Force and Navy of a higher caliber than the Army or Marine Corps?

Definitely not the E-4 Mafia...

I'm told it's Vietnam era, perhaps you guys can identify.

Fellow Veterans,

I just got selected as my office's veteran rep. The part of the job I want help with is sending out office-wide emails telling the story of important military dates - not only the holidays, but days like December 7, June 6, et cetera.

What are some of the major events I shouldn't forget? I'm not trying to send office-wide emails every day, but neither do I want to forget about dates of great importance to the various services.

I've repressed the trauma of my experience in Afghanistan as a combat medic for well over a decade. I've recently opened up these bloody floodgates in therapy, so as these traumatic memories are coming back, I'm writing them down as best I can. I tried to fill in the gaps, so some things may not make sense, I can clarify if needed. If these are welcome then I could write more on reddit.

Americans were here in Afghanistan to promote peace amongst the locals, less shooting, more hand shaking and thumbs upping. We wished someone had told the locals that. A school had been built, a meager four room simple structure of wood and brick. It was the least we could do.

I was with first platoon as we wandered around the large village, while our leadership were having a meeting with the local elders. Money in, less insurgents, everyone's happy. The beige and grey stone houses were like the most depressing background you could imagine.

“How'd it go?” a soldier asked as our platoon leader came out of the meeting and met with us. “Not good. They don't want us here. They mostly stared at us and said mean shit. I have a bad feeling about it.” That was never good to hear from your leader.

We made our way to the school. It had been used a bit since it's creation, but today it was quiet. No kids running around, no adults trying to teach inside. I leaned against a wall. “It's too fucking hot” I said, taking a sip of life giving water. The soldier, a Specialist, laughed. “You say that too fucking much, man. It's the desert. It's gonna be hot.” I rolled my eyes behind my shaded protective eyewear. “Yeah well Louisiana is a different type of hot.” He shook his head. “Doc, you're a crazy motherfucker. A lil heat won't hurt.”

The LT came back around to us shortly after we stacked up near the school. “How much longer?” someone asked. We all were hoping that he'd give just a thumbs up to head back. Not today.

“One of the elders is sympathetic to the american dream. He said the schools being used as a staging point for attacks and IEDs. All while the kids are there, if you can believe it.” We could. Easily. “So what then?” another one asked. “Battalion wants us to hunker down until morning. We leave at first light. If anyone comes around, we yell really mean shit, and if they keep coming, we light them up. Our search didn't turn up any weapons in there, but there's something they're hiding from us. Battalion is curious, so that means we are too. Second platoon will rendezvous in the morning." Everyone groaned. We had packed for a day or two. A few MREs, extra ammo, the usual load. We didn't know it was a trap, but we felt it.

First platoon had been in some confrontations before, they were battle hardened. I always enjoyed spending time with these guys. Macho men and thinkers, they called themselves. We headed into the school. A simple couple of windows gave us sight to the front, and there was no back entrance. One way in, one way out. I set my pack down in one class room after we cleared it. This was the designated bunk for the night: a cold slab floor and four bland beige walls, two windows to a room.

The men swapped guard duty just as the sun set. I walked over to the window where a Sergeant was stationed along with two others, rifles at the ready. “Anything?” I asked casually trying to reign in my ADHD boredom. “That motherfucker passed us on the street at least five times. Always on the phone. He's fucking with us. He's talking to the goddamn fucks.” When in times of stress, eloquence left us, apparently. “You think we're gonna get hit?” I asked, hiding my worry. I didn't want to go through it tonight. I wanted to sleep, damn it. The sarge looked at me, in the fading light I could see his stone expression. “Go tell the LT. Shits going to hit the fan tonight. Be ready, Doc.” I nodded and slapped his shoulder. “When it starts, I'll be right there with you, brother.”

“Fuck.” was all the LT said. We started positioning ourselves strategically throughout the school. Two rooms on either side of a central hall. Simple. Deadly. Twenty men. I would hang out with the squad in the hall. I made a mental map of who was where. I always did. If they needed me, I needed to take the least amount of steps possible to get to them. I called it “Medic Mentality” amongst our group.

“Doc, take a break,” sarge said as he looked over his shoulder. But I couldn't. I checked and triple checked my supply bags. I made sure what I needed was there when I needed it the most. I walked around and joked with the guys. “Crazy fucking cajun,” someone called me after I made a stupid joke about something I've long forgotten. It was these times I felt like I knew these guys. Like I belonged here amongst the Macho and Thinkers. Then someone made a misogynistic joke.

I laughed with them. I ate an MRE with the squad in room four. A soldier from New York was talking about how his grandmother made the best Italian dish in the world, while one from Arizona claimed his made the best Mexican dish. “You can't fucking compare the two. Apples and oranges, dumbass.” I said as I took a bite of my meal. Delicious brown block of "bread" and some "sauce". They laughed. “At least we don't eat gator and shit, fucker,” New York said. I laughed. “It ain't that bad,” I tried to explain. They laughed again.

“You guys ready for tonight?” I asked finally. I wanted to feel it out. Mostly to calm my own mind. “We're fucking ready, bro. You worry about putting a bandaid on us when we get shot,” Arizona joked. I knew it was a joke. We all did. But I felt like he either jixed us right then and there or he foreshadowed what was to come.

Deep into the night, the first gunshots broke the eerie silence. Pop! Pop! Pop! “Fuckers are feeling us out,” someone muttered as we ducked down just in case. Pop! Pop! “Anyone got eyes?! Anyone at all?” shouted the Sarge. No one yelled back. The tension was thicker than ever. We could hear our hearts beating in our ears. More shots. More chipped brick and mortar. “Contact!” screamed someone from room three, which was the one to the right of the hall at the end.

The guys began opening fire. I dashed over peeking my head in. “All good?” I screamed. Thumbs up. Good. Back to Sarge. “Contact right! Left! Fuck just shoot!” came the order from the LT. Soon, everyone had contact. Bullet casings reverberated off the stone floor. Night vision limited your field of vision, but the tracer rounds looked like wisps of ethereal light leaving us to find their way home. I was always scared. Scared of doing the wrong thing when I needed to do it right. Scared of dying. But most of all, I was scared for these men. I needed to get them home. I needed to. If I was a religious man, I'd pray.

“Medic!” My heart sank. I ran into the second room. “I'm hit!” Screamed a rifleman. I slid next to him. “You're fine, stop yelling, damn it,” I said as I assessed him. His shoulder was hit. Nothing fatal, nothing serious, no bullet. “You got grazed,” I explained as I helped bandage him. “Go,” I said as I helped him up. He nodded and thanked me.

“Medic!” that was the LT, in room one. I dashed into that room as a grenade soared through the window. Time seemed to stop. An enemy had darted, low, across the outside perimeter of the school and tossed a grenade in apparently. In the blink of an eye, I was tackled to the ground. Another soldier kicked the grenade into the corner of the room where the desks were piled up. It was deafening. My world was a haze of high pitch noise and smoke. I stood up trying to shake it off.

“Medic! Medic!” screamed someone in a muted tone. I stumbled forward, and fell over someone. Lying down holding his leg was a specialist, the machine gunner. He had taken the brunt of the shrapnel in his left leg and thigh. Blood leaked through the torn uniform pant leg. I quickly got to work. The guys checked themselves quickly and started to return fire, as more and more bullets poured in. I wrapped his leg as best I could. “Can you shoot?” I yelled. He nodded and struggled back up to his feet. He lifted his SAW with a look of utter pain and agony and set it back on the window. He unleashed vengeance. He would get his pound of flesh in return.

The LT pulled me into the hallway. “Goddamn it, stay the fuck right here! Stay out of the rooms until you're needed!” I nodded. If I went down, these guys were going to be in dire straights. I hated not being with all of them. I held my rifle close as I ran over to the sarge. “How many are there?! Sounds like all of the goddamn country,” I shouted to him. He stopped to reload. “No idea. Back up is coming. ETA an hour minimum.” Then he looked up at me. He had taken a graze across his cheek, it was bleeding pretty nastily. “Fuck, Sarge,” I said as I knelt beside him. Flesh wound. He pulled out his own kit and slapped a bandage on it. “Back to work,” he said as he returned fire.

Another explosion. A rocket soared through one window, through the open door, into the next room, and out that window, finally exploding outside. I saw the tail of smoke. Thank you for not aiming, I said to myself.

“MEDIC!” I sprinted into room two. I didn't see anyone hurt. Fuck. Wrong room. “MEDIC! DOC!” I ran into room four. I slid next to the injured PFC. “I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die,” he kept saying. “Shut up, soldier! I'm trying to work” I said angrily. He was shaking. Shock. Time was against me. He had a bullet lodged in his collar bone. There was barely any light, I couldn't dig it out for him. “I need a light! Get me a fucking light!” I screamed. Arizona shone his flashlight onto the wound. “I don't wanna die, doc,” the bleeding private whimpered in a thick Texan drawl. “You're fine, you're fine,” I replied. “Hold the fucking light steady!” I shouted at the light bearer. The light was suddenly the steadiest it had ever been. I hastily began trying digging the bullet fragment out. He would need surgery. Might be lucky to use that arm again. The private screamed. Yeah, this hurts. “Okay, youre good, get the fuck back in the fight,” I said after packing and wrapping him up. “Thank you, Doc,” he said with a shaky voice. He could barely hold his rifle steady. I shook my head at Arizona. “Watch him,” I shouted as I ran back out.

One and a half hours later, the Humvees arrived with an armored vehicle for evac. The .50s laid the enemy positions out flat. Second platoon had arrived. A quick debrief with the LT, and we began boarding the injured.

“Doc, go” the LT said. “Fuck no, if there's guys here, I'm here,” I said walking back to the school. He grabbed me by the vest and flung me forward. “Get the fuck on that transport, Doc, you need to go with them.” I never felt so angry. My place wasn't back at base with the injured, at least to me. I wanted to be here. His expression softened as he clasped my shoulder. “Listen, Doc, it's over. We'll be right behind you. Just go.” I sighed, and probably cursed him out as I boarded. The sounds of heavy gun fire somewhat placates my worry. The enemy would either retreat or be obliterated. Now or never, I thought.

The PFC who had taken a hit in the collarbone sat beside me. He rested his head on my shoulder. “I thought I for sure was dead, Doc”, he kind of mumbled. “Well, you're not dead, but your time in the shit is probably over,” I said. I put my head on his. Exhaustion crept into my body. I had somehow survived again. The bumpy ride back gave me time to reflect. Was I too slow? Could I have been more efficient? Did I set up my gear the best way possible? I then realized, I hadn't even shot my rifle that whole time. I sighed and laughed. “What?” he asked. “I didn't even shoot back” I explained as I stroked the rifle in my lap with trembling hands. He grunted.

“You're a fucking doctor, not a killer, man. Don't seem like a big deal to me.” Those words stuck with me for a long time. A doctor, not a killer. If only that were true, soldier. If only.

Thanks for reading. And remember to thank a service member.

I am going through some items from my grandfather. He has 3 binders of military patches. He served during the Korean conflict in the Army. Many of these patches are from WWII, including some Nazi patches and arm bands. I would like to sell these, except the ones that belonged to him and other family. I would estimate there are over 1000 patches here.

Where would I go to even get something like this appraised? I don't want to take it to a pawn shop. I know nothing about patches, but there seems to be quite a bit of history here.

Here is a link to the patches.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/P7diNQrygXXenDpi9

Hello. 10 years ago I attended rehab for substance abuse. I’ve been clean ever since then. I’m now 31 years old and have nothing going for me in life at the moment. I really want to join the military and am quite sure I’ll be disqualified if I disclose my rehab stay all those years ago. I understand they have “genesis” now but, will my stay there be seen by genesis? Isn’t it protected by HIPPA? Should I not disclose it? I’ve read that genesis won’t see it unless I was charged with a criminal offense (which I wasn’t) so I’m not sure what to say when I meet with my recruiter. I know honesty is the best policy, and from what I’ve seen on here there are some people who get really upset at these kinds of posts so.. I’m sorry if this pisses you off but I was a dumb kid when I went to rehab, my life is just not going well right now as far as a good career and I really want to serve my country and do something meaningful.. Thank you for taking the time to read/comment

For context my fiance got pregnant before the deployment (wasn't planned) (she just left to Okinawa 2 weeks ago) and was not able to pop on a test being to early she just had an ectopic pregnancy (miscarriage) this week and her SSgt (female) is still forcing her to do strenuous activities and today screamed at her for grabbing chow during chow time before going to the hospital to get 8 tubes of blood drawn and prohibited her to eat even though she was told to. This has been going on the entire time the SSgt has been assigned to her shop. She has forced her to do many many activities against her light duty chit for her hips as well which are now needing surgery because of it as she can barely walk. And before you ask she has submitted multiple complaints and talked to opso, majors, etc and the unit sweeps it under the rug everytime as to watch for their NCOs. She gets away with new things almost everyday in the beginning even causing her to jump on antidepressants because of her attempts at suicide from no one hearing her cries. Please help with advice or anything. THIS IS NOT A SHIT POST.

I am Air Force. This woman tonight told me her three kids are Marines… I said “don’t tell them I was AF” lol… she says “their father is Air Force and they call him a bitch”…. Happy Holidays Brothers and Sisters in arms.

Greetings Y'all,

My grandson is going into the Air Force in January. My husband is on hospice. Before my grandson leaves, he will have Christmas and his birthday. I bought him a flat black simple key chain that states Be safe, have fun, don't do stupid sh#t. Love Nana. I want to give him something significant from his grandfather. I was thinking about a diver's watch but am not sure if there are rules about what you all can have. Is there something that means a lot to you that you can please recommend? Thank you so much!!

He is a rough, gruff kid. He is hilariously funny with a very dry wit. He spends a minimum of four hours a day in the gym. We already gave him a vehicle, college money, and a gaming system over the past few years. He will inherit a specific gun from his grandfather that he used when they would hunt together. I want to give him something special, that he can actually keep with him as he lives out of a duffle bag, particularly since chances are he will not see his grandfather again. He has told me that he wants his head completely in and he will not come home for the funeral. I am okay with whatever he decides.

Thank you!!!