10 November 1775. I was born in a bomb crater. My mother was an M16 and my father was the devil. Each moment that I live is an additional threat upon your life. I eat concertina, piss napalm, and I can shoot a round through a flea's ass at 300 meters. I travel the globe, festering on anti-Americans everywhere I go, for the love of mom, Chevrolet, baseball, and apple pie. I'm a grunt. I'm the dirty, nasty, stinky, sweaty, filthy, beautiful little son of a bitch that's kept the wolf away from the door for over 227 years. I'm a United States Marine. We look like soldiers, talk like sailors, slap the shit out of both of them. We stole the eagle from the Air Force, the rope from the Army, and the anchor from the Navy. And on the 7th day, when God rested, we overran his perimeter and we've been running the show ever since. Warrior by day, lover by night, drunkard by choice, Marine by God. Semper Fidelis.

Description: This platoon is russian fan-community of the United States Marine Corps. We welcome everyone, who is interested in the subject, in other words, we will be glad to cooperate with those who are looking for here good game, friendly team, well, or just good communication.
The platoon is focusing in turn on realism, which means that there is frequently used weapons of NATO and camouflage MARPAT (woodland and desert).