Who's the baddest M-F'r youve ever known?

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Mine is my great grandfather. Mined coal in England until he was 13. Came to America just before war broke out in Europe. Went to Los Angeles back when it was all orchards. When Britain entered the war he went down to sign up in the US Army. They wouldnt take him because he was 15. He went up to Canada and joined their army. While he was waiting to go to Europe on a troop ship a munitions ship in Halifax blew up and sank his ship. he made it out alive and got sent to Europe and survived the war from Belgium to France. When the war was over he figured he still had some fight left in him so he joined a paramilitary group the Brits had set up to send to Ireland to put down the rebellion there called the Black and Tans. They got sent to Ireland to be thugs and rough up or kill anyone that got out of line. Different times. After a few years of that he came back to the US and lived his life as a L.A County sheriff . He had a great gun and knife collection from stuff he had "confiscated" over the years. I remember shooting a schnelfeuer Mauser with him in the hills around L.A..
 

clearconscience

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Damn, that's a heck of a life.

My dad was a navy boy, got a 2year degree on the GI bill and got recruited by the CIA for his degree in working with communications systems. Worked all over the world.
Korea, middle east, north africa, Virgina, Oregon, Brazil, and around south america/cuba, then in guam.
He was big into karate and he was in a tournament with chuck norris, but they didn't end up fighting him (aka still alive)
But he wasn't much of a badarse.
More of a techy.
Still interesting life. No he's bat-ish crazy living in bend.
 

Dyjital

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My grandpa who left me this:
IMG_1469.JPG

Him and his brothers were hell raisers growing up. They were all a bunch of Cherokee boys that weren't afraid to take or give a punch. Spent time in the military, brothers were beat to a pulp a few times by the Hells Angels.... His heart gave out and that's what ultimately ended his life.
 

slimmer13

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Grandpa

Pacific theater

Name

***** *****

Race

White

Birth Year

1922

Age Group

17 - 20

Residence

Carroll County, Iowa

Height71 in.

Weight

167 lbs.

Civilian Occupation

Farm hands, general farms

Marital Status

Single, without dependents

Education

Grammar SchoolCitizenship StatusU.S. Citizen

Service Details

Rank

Private

Branch

Branch Immaterial or General OfficersComponentSelectees

Enlistment Details

Enlistment Location

CP Dodge HerroldEnlistment DateDecember 26, 1942

Enlistment Term

Enlistment for duration of War plus six months

Army Serial Number

*********
 

clearconscience

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I have a friend who has been my friend since 5th grade.
He's always been a tough dude. Lost his spleen at 19 for no reason, just got enlarged. They said he would be more seseptable to infections and getting sick.
Told him he would have to be super careful, wouldn't be able to do hard work.
Ended up working construction, home remodeling almost building houses by himself.

He broke his neck 2 years ago diving in a pool. Paralyzed from the chest down with limited arm use, no hand mobility.
Spent 6 mths in the hospital. Almost 2 mths in ICU.
Countless surgeries.

Mentally the toughest SOB you can imagine. Suffers from non-stop nerve pain that he can't stop with any meds.

Lives through that and still works daily doing real estate selling houses, and teaching other how to. Never gave up, never feels sorry for himself, no woes me. Just back to work any way he can.
 
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I met SGT Roy Matsumoto on one of his priceless visits at the Ranger School (FT. Benning).

Roy Matsumoto - Wikipedia

His service included time in the 5307th Composite Unit, Provisional; also known as Merrill's Marauders WWII. His accounts of swimming with pack mules, working in the jungle, working with the indigenous tribes, and using his language skills to shall we say; change the dynamics of battle..... ;)
 
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Guy named RJ Hall, met him in Hawaii when I was in the Marine Corps. Grew up in one of the tougher parts of Philadelphia. His eyes would light up whenever a fight was in the offing. I felt sorry for the guy we saw pulling RJ's scuba gear out of his car.

One thing he did was teach a water survival course. He would demonstrate by having someone tie his hands behind his back, tie his ankles together, jump in and swim lengths of an Olympic-sized pool. Not an ounce of fat on him either; a natural sinker.

He got into plying rugby. At that point the only players were either Hawaiians, Tongans or Samoans, big tough men. He was the only white boy in the whole league, but they respected him. Those after-game rugby parties were pretty damn wild; I kept my distance when those crazy bubblegumers were having their fun.

One funny story he told me. He used to catch rides into Honolulu by standing on the road with his shirt off (we were stationed in Kaneohe, other side of the island). The queers would pick him up, he'd lead 'em on, then he'd tell them to get lost after he got his ride. One day some guy picks him up, and he was... really big. Finally he figured out what was going on, and he told RJ, "If there is one thing I like better than sucking dick, it's kicking bubblegum." He pulled his car over, and RJ ran like Hell! :)
 
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My great Uncle Harold. He was a circus performer then herded sheep in the backcountry in Idaho in the 30's. He would get air dropped supplies once a week. Carried a Colt 38, never knew exactly what it was that's just what he called it. Said he could shoot the center out of an ace of spades from the hip. Then he joined his 4 other brothers in WWII, the only one still alive was in a ship in Pearl Harbor on Dec 7th '41. Harold ended up in Europe as a tank commander, saw a picture of him sitting on a tank w/2 30 cal Browning bandoleros over his shoulders and a mohawk. Told his men he'd shoot anyone of them that wouldn't follow him. He claims they were drunk a lot being in France and Germany (he stayed in Europe after the war to help 'mop' up). He captured a general and stripped him of all his medals and a dagger, took rings and watches off dead soldiers and brought home a shot up Nazi flag. He framed the flag and pinned the watches and rings on it. He also carried his Colt throughout the war and when he got home kept carrying it. He said he would go round and round w/the local sheriff in Hillsboro, he called him by name but I forgot it. He kept the medals and dagger in a drawer. He married a German lady in the later 60's who made him get rid of the flag and bling. I played w/the dagger when I was a kid, it had a swastika on the pommel, an ivory handle w/braided silver spiraling it and braided silver hanging off the silver scabbard/sheath which was all metal. He also raided a museum and had 2 of Kaiser Wilhelm's dueling swords and a french cavalry sabre. His son and I used to cut up box's in the backyard w/them. The german swords had big ornate pommels w/the kaiser's emblems/shields (not sure what they're called) on them. He tried to bring back his 30 cal Browning, said he had it all broke down in a duffel on the train when they came in for an inspection. He claims he ran out and stashed it by the tracks (said buried) but could never get back to get it. After the war, in the early 60's he was working in a foundry in Portland when a bucket fell off the crane full of molten zinc. He had to walk out with it all over the floor, it splashed all over his back and top of his head. It burned the bottom of his feet pretty near off. In the hospital the doc told him if he made it through the night he'd probably live. He told them to bring him 5 gallons of coffee and stayed up all night. When his hair grew back it was white and wiry.

I always wanted to write a book about him, did a report in hi-school so talked to him about about his life. He had a kid in his 50's w/the german lady who was a couple years younger than me and he had a swimming pool so I hung there a lot when I was a kid. He and my dad also hunted, fished and rock-hounded together so I heard a lot of stories. Not sure how many were true or completely true but no one in the family ever disputed anything he said. In his 70's he was still strong as an ox and could hang by his toes from the swing set.
 
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The baddest M-Fers I know are unheralded heroes. They wake up earlier than they want every day, and go do potentially uninteresting work for ungrateful taskmasters. They submit themselves to arbitrary authority, and produce results regardless of reward.

Once home again, they continue their labor as teachers, drivers, coaches, chefs, housekeepers, and guardians when all their bodies want is rest.

They set aside their wants and desires to fulfill their responsibilities, and do so with the hope that all these things will be enough to make their families happy, healthy, and prosperous.

This continuous sacrifice is common yet heroic, and has made America great. If you don't think this makes them the baddest M-Fers on the planet, then you need to watch fewer movies.
 
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When I got to my unit in the 82nd we had the guy that the movie hart break ridge was based on in my platoon.

And no it wasn't Marines like in the movie it was an army platoon from A 3/505 PIR 82nd ABN.

He was a FO ( 13F1p ). The platoon he was attached to got lit up.
He dragged 6 guy's out of the line of fire that were wounded, Took the M60 from the wounded gunner and ammo from the Ag. returned fire and tried to call CAS.
Radio didn't work so he ran out across the street ( Out in the open) used the payphone and got a AC130 to level the bunker.

He would show up every morning in his PT's wearing his Congressional Medal of Honor.
Everyone would salute him, He'd fall in formation. we would start PT and he would leave.
Wouldn't see him again until final formation.( Everyone would salute him again )
He would still be in his PT's.
Formation would end and we would all salute him again.
That went on for 5 months until he retired.
 
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Three come to mind.
Uncle Ed. Purple heart, Battle of the Bulge. That alone is bad bubblegum.
Grandpa. (Dad's dad) A large guy by 20s & 30s standards. 6'2" 220 and lanky. Hard drinkin, hard fighting man. Worked in the shipyards in WWII, gambled and did some "bill collecting". Found God and settled down in the mid to late 40s.
My friends dad. Did a couple of tours in Vietnam and gathered some commendations. Used to climb Mt. Hood regularly. When you meet him you would have no inkling of his past. When you know him you know he was more "bad bubblegum" than most people can dream of.
He's the only one left. I've known him since '80 and refer to him as "the ol basterd". Proud to call him my friend.
 
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I served on the Korean MDL with a Staff Sgt that was in an Artillery battery in Vietnam that got completely overrun by NVA troops! I don't remember the exact story, but he killed the last two enemy troops inside the wire with a .38spl S&W snubby! Three guys lived, two of them in a bunker, and the Sgt in the trench! I saw his Bronze Star!
 

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