HEAD: ROC Desert Ambush Duke
TORSO/ARMS: ROC Tunnel Rat
LEGS: POC Missile Pack Duke

Equipment:
___ NVG Helmet from ROC Desert Ambush Duke
___ Vest from 25th Outback
___ FN SCAR from 30th Steel Brigade
___ Sig Sauer 550 from 25th Beachhead
___ Missile Launcher from POC Missile Pack Duke

CODENAME: Footloose
FILE NAME: Meyers, Andrew D.
PRIMARY MILITARY SPECIALTY: Infantry
SECONDARY MILITARY SPECIALTY: Special Services
BIRTHPlACE: Gary, Indiana
GRADE: E-4 (Corporal)

In his youth, Andrew Meyers was the all-American boy - a track and basketball star, Eagle Scout and his high school's Valedictorian. During his second semester of college studying to be a physical education teacher, however, the death of a childhood friend hit him like a ton of bricks, and he dropped out. Not just out of college, mind you, but out of everything. He spent the next two and a half years hopping trains backpacking and hitchhiking across the United States, Canada and Mexico with a group of crust punks. One day, while busking with his harmonica and pondering the meaninglessness of existence on the Venice Beach boardwalk, he had an epiphany, promptly marched into the nearest army recruiters office and seemingly found his true calling - much to the confusion of his traveling companions.

"Let me tell you, sure, Footloose is a weird guy. He's very cerebral, always reading some obscure philosophy text or some piece of French and Russian literature. He's apparently a qualified expert on anything from the inner meaning of Camus to auto repair, the sociopolitical situation of the Caucuses to the real names of every pro-wrestler. He has a very dry, sardonic sense of humor where you can never quite tell if he's mocking you or honestly saying what he is saying. You should never - I repeat - NEVER watch a movie with him and Flint, because they will somehow dissect it into a metaphor for the director's creepy mommy issues or the failings of humanity to come to grips with their inner animal or something. So all that being said, the guy is a terrific soldier. The moment he laces up his boots and a slaps a fresh clip in his rifle, he goes from geek to grunt and that big brain of his just revels in the primal nature of warfare. I love him like a brother, but I also kind of hate him because he can also slam dunk a basketball." - Wayne "Beachhead" Sneeden