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The name on your chest in the military is both a blessing and a curse. It is your label, it is a word that people will associate with your physical essence. If you happen to have the unfortunate honor of carrying a family name that is laughable or remotely inappropriate, expect it to be used against you at every possible opportunity.
I suppose I only had this problem to a very limited extent. My last name is “Uriarte,” which was plastered across my breast for 4 years. If you’re 12 years old, mentally handicapped or dyslexic, you can possibly interpret the name to say “Urinate.” Regardless, since most people I knew just called me “Max” (including our Co. 1st Sgt), I never really had any serious issues with it.
I recall one event where I was literally walking past the barracks of another company. In the corner of my eye I spotted a nametape that I couldn’t ignore. I stopped in my tracks, walked over to this Marine, and without saying a word, took a picture of his nametape with my phone. It read, “BAGGINS”. Mind you, I’m a gigantic nerd and I thought it was hilarious, and the Marine laughed and said, “I’ve gotten a lot of shit for my name before, but no one has ever done that.”
Regardless, name tapes are generally an endless source of humor, since they’re very much impossible to hide from.
If you know someone with a funny nametape, snap a photo, without saying a word, and post it up on the Terminal Lance Facebook page!
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