redshirt, explained (in part)

For me - Redshirt - a redshirt can be defined in part as Average Guy, trying to get by in this crazy universe, just like anyone. Prone to some bad luck, an Average Guy is turned into a redshirt when asked to do something which results in a sacrifice, like go down to the planet's surface and check out that strange black blob. The Average Guy (or Gal!) doesn't want to do it, but it's the job, so they do it. And die. The end.

Most folks fighting in a war, especially in the olden days, were redshirts - destined to be used and killed as the FSM saw fit. It's still true today, just not as high a percentage.

The Military - any military - is designed to crush individual expression and replace it with devotion to the small band, which forms larger groups, and larger still, till you all can be wielded as a single weapon, thrown at the Enemy's Tower, to be mown down in a rain of flaming arrows. But some of you might get through, and when you finally do, the King's aims are met. Huzzah! And for the redshirts, through all of time? Maybe some glory. More likely injury, horrible, terrible memories, and maybe a bit of gold. Good luck, you lived to tell the tale.

But let's never forget what people in the military are supposed to do: Kill. That's why they're there! And killing always begets all manner of depravity and cruelty, since you by force dehumanize your enemy, whomever they are that week. See?

Check out the thug with a club, center left.