His nickname was Dozer and he was the most aggressive Blue Falcon I’ve ever encountered in the military.
The minute you struck up a conversation with a woman at the bar he was there to swoop in, drop a bird turd in your drink, and try and take the girl you were chatting up. So aggressive! BUT! We’ll get to this jerk in a minute.
What the heck does Blue Falcon stand for anyway?
I did an online search and was shocked that most definitions I bumped into were total bullshit. I had to really tunnel deep to unearth the true definition.
Thank you Urban Dictionary.
In common military terminology (we love our acronyms and slang), a Blue Falcon stands for Buddy F*****.
Urban Dictionary Defines Blue Falcon as:
“Military Term: Refers to someone who commonly fucks over their buddies (buddy fucker).
This includes, but by no means is limited to the following:
Leaving work early when they volunteered to do something, thereby forcing their coworkers to do it.
Makes a comment on anothers inappropriate action in front of one’s supervisor which may result in discipline from said supervisor.
Stating they will meet their buddys for drinks, but is observed immediately taking a route away from the drinking destination never to be seen [for] the remainder of the evening.
Inviting buddys out for drinks on their birthday and being the first to leave shortly after arriving.
Stating you will do something, but then are nowhere to be found when it is your time to do it, whereby forcing your buddys to do it.
Someone who often misses work, leaves early, or takes sick days forcing his buddies to pick up his slack.”
Enter the Blue Falcon
There is nothing more annoying than having one of these ass hats around to mess up your crew’s game and Dozer was a professional at f****** up a good thing.
The guys and I found this strange because he was a master of gab once the ice was broken but he could not do it alone. Like the remora who sucks along for the ride on the shark, he was ever-present, and hard to shake off so he needed a lead man to open.
When I deployed with SEAL Team Three GOLF platoon we had to actively dodge him at all costs. He would just torture us out at the bars. This was sometimes hard with a 16 man SEAL platoon but we did our damndest to avoid this prick in social settings.
I remember our chief, “Decker”, finally pulling Dozer aside one day in Dubai, and giving it to him.
Dozer’s response was to complain, “why should he care because some of the guys were married and shouldn’t be talking to girls in the first place.” You can see this guy is a piece of work.
Decker turned fire engine red and gave him a smack across the face and threatened his life if he ever brought up the topic again and, further, reminded him of bro etiquette.
Note: Our chief was also married and a practicing geographic bachelor. He was a wingman’s wingman whose slogan was, “Big butt, so what….” Loved that guy. If you had a “Tatanka” riding shotgun with the girl you were after, Decker was your man. No muff too tough and the bigger they were, the better it was for chief.
Dozer got his nickname because he was built like a bulldozer, thighs like a Rhino, he could PT with the best of them but his soft dark underbelly was his lack of pain tolerance. We replaced his nickname with Falcon mid-deployment, a substitution he was not happy about.
No pain, no gain…
I remember driving a Zodiac boat at night off the west coast of Australia. It was a hot muggy night, moonless, and dark as a bitcoin miner’s butthole.
We’d been practicing beach landing operations all night. And let me tell you this, Australia is no joke. If the saltwater crocs didn’t scare the s*** out of you the snakes were right there to ensure your trousers needed a thorough washing back at base.
I was driving the boat back to the mother ship while on NVGs (Night Vision Goggles) when all of a sudden I heard a blood-curdling scream over the roar of the big Johnson outboard engine. I brought the boat to idle and radioed as much.
Thinking someone had lost a gun over the side (an offense that would find you out of the Teams and on the first ship to pull out of port), I flipped up my goggles to see Dozer holding his lip, blood trickling down with a wounded Bambi look on his face. I shot him a WTF look, and he pointed to a flying fish in the boat. I gave him a look that said what I was thinking. You can fill in the blank yourself.
F*** me. A flying fish and he was screaming like someone dipped his balls in gasoline and lit his chicken skin afire.
He begged me not to bring it up to chief when we got back. I would have gladly complied with his request (I’m no Blue Falcon) had he not been such a f***** of buddies.
Upon arrival to the mother ship, I gave the platoon a full debrief after the real mission debrief, and Dozer received a summary judgment via kangaroo court (look that one up)!
What have we learned? I’ve successfully defined Blue Falcon for you and given you an example you can learn from.
Don’t be a Blue Falcon (ahem Dozer).