War Fox Supply Co. didn’t come to life with spreadsheets and board meetings—it was born from cigars and whiskey, and the kind of laughs that echo louder after dark times.
 

It started in January 2025—Damien and I with cigars in one hand, whiskey in the other. We’d kicked around the idea of launching something real for the veteran community. Not the same-old, bland, patriotic gear slapped with a slogan. We wanted something with teeth. Something unapologetic. Something that veterans could look at and say, “Hell yeah, they get it.”

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So War Fox was born—a brand rooted in grit, gallows humor, and the sacred art of talking shit. We wanted to make high-quality, made-in-America goods that didn’t just look cool—they meant something. Something loud. Something honest.

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But like a lot of good ideas, it drifted. Life crept in. Momentum stalled.

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Then we lost two of our brothers—guys we knew for years, that we'd laughed, cried, and everything in between with. Their absence was a gut punch, a reminder that time is brutal, and silence can be deadly. That loss lit a fire under us. Suddenly, War Fox wasn’t just a project—it was a tribute. A way to honor them, and all the other warriors out there still fighting their invisible wars.

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We rolled up our sleeves and got to work.

The War Fox name came from a late-night brainstorm, about four fingers of bourbon deep. Damien said something about needing a name that felt sharp—something clever, fierce, and never rattled under pressure.

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I said, “Like a damn fox. A War Fox!”

 

It just hit.

 

The fox is cunning. Tactical. Never loud, never reckless—but always ready to strike when the timing’s right. That’s who we had to become when things went sideways in the field. That’s who our brothers were. Survivors. Fighters. Thinkers. War Fox wasn’t just a name. It was a mindset. A legacy.

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So now, everything we put out—every shirt, every design, every badass idea—we do it with them in mind. Their names aren’t printed on our tags, but their memory’s sewn into every thread.