Paratroopers come in all shapes, shades, weights, sizes and states of sobriety, misery, and confusion. He is sly as a fox, has the nerve of a dope addict, the stories of an old sailor, the sincerity of a politician and the subtly of Mt. Saint Helens. He is extremely irresistible, totally irrational and completely indestructible.

A Paratrooper is a Paratrooper all his life. He is a magical creature. You
can kick him out of your house, but not out of your heart. You can take him off your mailing list, but not off your mind. They are found everywhere. In love, in battle, in lust, in trouble, in debt, in bars... and behind them. No one can write so seldom and yet think so much of you. No one else can get so much enjoyment out of a letter or clean clothes or a twenty pack.

A Paratrooper is a genius with a deck of cards. Brave without a grain of sense. He is the PROTECTOR OF AMERICA, with the latest copy of Playboy in his back pocket. When he wants something it's usually 30 days leave, music that hurts the ears, or a woman he can count on.

Girls love them, mothers tolerate them, fathers brag about them, the government pays them, the police watch out for them and somehow they all work together. You can beat their bodies but not their minds.

You can tame their hearts but not their souls.
He likes girls, females, women, ladies and the opposite sex.
He dislikes small checks, working weekends, answering letters, missing chow, waking up, maintaining a uniform.

You may as well give in. He is your long distance lover. He is
your steel eyed, warm smiling, blank minded, hyperactive, over reacting, curious, passive, talented, spontaneous, physically fit, good for nothing bundle of worry...And he will destroy anyone who hurts you in anyway

and will always be there for you regardless of how long it's been since you've last talked.