A Legend is Born
"Today Will Be The Same"
A long time ago not long after the birth of a bad-ass battalion, in a secure training area of a Marine Corps Base located on the west coast of the continental United States, a young unnamed Lieutenant, acting as vehicle commander of a freshly washed LAV-25, took his highly skilled driver, his truly motivated gunner, and a few of his hard charging freshly minted scouts on a screening training op in the hills behind the camp. In order to perfect each and every one of his men skills and improve all of their screening abilities in times of war and in times of peace, the first time vehicle commander issued a clear and direct order to his hard-ass Marines. "Cover and conceal this LAV-25, Marines. We're going to simulate an unserviceable vehicle scenario behind enemy lines. We are the first to conduct this kind of training in the field. It has never been done before, and by golly gee willickers gents, we're going to do it right the first time. You got that?" said the Lieutenant with an aggressive drawl. "Aye, sir!" said the crew in unison as they began tarping the 25mm Bushmaster, capping the smoke grenades tubes, and concealing their loud-ass'ed diesel powered reconnaissance conveyance with brush from the surrounding area..
The Lieutenant then got out his battalion notebook and ink stick that contained all of the maps of the camp and the foothills surrounding it. He looked up at the sun, turned his head and checked the shape of the hills over his shoulder, and put his finger on the spot where he thought they were and exclaimed,"X marks the spot!"
This startled one of the newb PFCs who under his breathe and in an angry tone said, "MOTHERFUCKER!" The Lieutenant then inquisitively asked, "We're not near Mt. MOTHERFUCKER. We're two clicks North North West of that dusty nutsack." The blue falconesque LCpl then chimed in happily, "I think he said you're a MOTHERFUCKER, sir." The Marines chuckled a bit as they worked. The LCpl had been hoping to catch a sniff of what the LT had for breakfast by sticking his nose up his ass. "Shut your pie-hole, LCpl, or else you'll be doing flutter kicks until it rains.
The Lieutenant then finished marking their current location on a map with his lucky OCS Marine Corps issued ink stick, then ordered all Marines to proceed on foot back to the CP double-time to notify the battalion commanding officer. Once notified, an LAV-Recovery team would then be sent out to said marked position to then simulate a vehicle recovery and both vehicles would then return to camp with all vehicles, gear, and all life secured.
Rumor has it that the aforementioned nameless Lieutenant marked the wrong position on the map causing the whole battalion to embark on a two day seek and recover mission around Mt. MOTHERFUCKER. Whilest the smoking lamp was on, a PFC and a LCpl were making a head-call after wandering around aimlessly all morning when they heard what sounded like a dog peeing on a car tire. "Are you pissing on your jungle boots, LCpl?" said the PFC. Low and behold they had found the lost LAV-25 thus saving the Lieutenant's ass. Both Marines were given a page 11 as a reward.
Once the story got passed around to other battalions, word was and forever shall be that LAR is "Lost and Retarded" and is further credited with putting the "special" in special ops.
It can be heard from the decks of the barracks in the 41 Area, a unified shout of "LARSOC... LARSOC..." as those on restrictions go to check in with the battalion's officer of the day. It is proudly met with a "YAL, YAS!" (pronounced like "Hell Yes!") from the grunts and pogs as they march, head held high.
"If You Ain't LARSOC, You Ain't SPECIAL"