“For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets
The other day I ventured to our Police Academy, to assist with report writing instruction. Because it was a duty (though plainclothes) assignment I was armed, but not in the traditional sense of wearing a holster. I carry a Maxpedition Versipak. Not wanting to leave it in an SUV with no trunk, I brought it inside the building. Of course, eventually it was labeled a "murse." I beg to differ.
Murse is a made up word, a conjunction of man and purse. Anything bigger than a biker's wallet on a chain seems to fit the title. I submit that the expression throws an altogether overbroad net covering bags that, frankly, enjoy a more tactical appeal.
True, my Versipak contains the usual comfort items - chapstick, anti-bacterial hand cleaner, lotion and sunscreen. Were that it...okay. Maybe. That's where the accessories diverge.
Attached via PALS is a Individual Light Duty Combat Casualty pouch. An organizer holds a charger for my Soldier Information/Communication Center. A hardened container protects a pair of Visual Acuity Re-calibration Instruments. An array of pens and pencils accompany a "rain or shine" tactical notebook. Knife, multi-tool and flashlight are tucked into individual loops, accessible via color-coded 550 cord survival fobs. Finally, there is a 550 bracelet a friend made clipped outside for ready use.
It is a Battle Bag, if only because it has morale patches on the outside proclaiming that my "fun meter is pegged", and I'm "that guy."
A murse. Puhleeeze.