Private First Class Manfred “Phil” Filamento was from a long line of hardcore military families. Not distinguished mind you, but true enough that khaki ran in his families very veins. In fact, until Phil no one in his family had achieved a rank high than Private. Not discounting it was dumb luck that enabled Phil to achieve the rank of Private First Class, to his family it would as much seem as he had achieved the rank of General.
Phil’s home since birth had always been that of a military base and despite the rigorous military education he received he was the least of the exceptional. He did however know the front from the back end of any gun and could assemble and reassemble most weapons blindfolded. He was a hard worker, muscular, and better looking than most which gave him much distress as this often caused his peers and seniors to overestimate his intellectual abilities.
In short, Phil was, in the vernacular, “dumb”. But more often than not when he made a mistake it often put the situation in his favor. Like the time he was arranging his grenades during his first tour in Iraq and on of the pins fell out. He had hastily thrown the live grenade into a dark alley and thwarted an ambush. If they had a badge for “dumb luck” he would have received it.
Likeable enough, as long as you did not mind talking in monosyllable words and did not mind a blank stare every once in a while, but he was if one thing reliable. He followed orders almost to an obsession and would gladly take a bullet for his fellow soldier.
Private First Class Manfred “Phil” Filamento was from a long line of hardcore military families. Not distinguished mind you, but true enough that khaki ran in his families very veins. In fact, until Phil no one in his family had achieved a rank high than Private. Not discounting it was dumb luck that enabled Phil to achieve the rank of Private First Class, to his family it would as much seem as he had achieved the rank of General. 
