71 to civvy - part one?

Discussion in 'Aviation' started by mistersoft, Feb 17, 2006.

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  1. Doesn't anybody post on a Friday? Me a veteran posting member of a day and no cracks about the member bit. Maybe all the work get's finished (or started) on Fridays so you have a nice clean desk on Monday morning, plenty of time for posting then.

    A bit of background before I launch myself into the main boring bit. I was perfectly happy-ish at two postings but then came an element of choice. Now there's something you don't see that often so I grabbed it with both hands. Where to go to see out my illustrious career. I already knew that after nine years the REME would be dispensing with my services as I had not failed my "Upgraders" but had successfully drank myself stupid and managed to get bronchitis probably through getting blocked in cold drafty places or NAAFI bars which I think are basically the same.

    So it came down to choice. Anywhere but 71 I thought, a layby off the A1, a hut somewhere in the Teutoburgerwald, Canada, Hong Kong, Cyprus and yes I was really dreaming then but please not 71. On my arrival at 71, there was a bug out. I knew it was a bug out because nobody knew what they were doing but they did an impression of knowing what they were doing by rushing about and looking efficient. "What's going on mate?" I asked somebody who wasn't rushing as much as the rest. So I had met my new OC, his first day as well and he was as confused as I was.

    I survived my first day and was welcomed to the unit by my new OC. I returned the compliment but he looked considerably better settled than me as I had to make my own coffee while he had an army (two at least) of penpushers to satisfy his thirst. I would like to say things got better but they didnt. At my last unit we had the AAC to blame but here it was totally REME and there was nobody else to blame for things that seemed pointless, stupid or just there to pish up your day.

    I saw another familiar face who promptly gave me a show parade for having creases on my jumper but sown in, the jumper was appparently useless now. He had been my old OC LAD and it's nice to know he remembered me. I would later tell him that we was an arse but that's much later in the story if you can stick it that far. He was allergic to bumps. Yes, strange as it seems, he hated bumps in clothing caused by wallets, large tobacco tins or boxes of sandwiches so you went on parade with an i-d card and nothing else. The inside of the hanger would be littered with disgarded wallets and anybody who was slightly less than honest would have had a field day. Incidentally I didn't do the show parade as the RSM said I was always smart but not to wear that particular jumper on my so-called acquantance's parade. For a few nanoseconds I rediscovered my faith in human nature but it wasn't to last.

    Things were rapidly going downhill, it wasn't the work, if they'd just leave you alone long enough to get on with it, fine. My health was suffering but of course the world and it's albatross has used a bad back as a get out clause before. I was lucky that the one and only ever good MO was mine thanks to me being vaguely associated to helicopters, i didn't work with them but hid as deviously as possible in the GSE Bay. I got the ultimate sickchit, drawing pay and breath but my saviour at the incident of the show parade, our old friend (?) Duggie had decided that sickies were to parade behind the parade and then pick up litter so me and my knackered back and a broken ankle and the rest of the sick, lame and lazy went on a nice nature bimble trawling for litter. Even the MO on hearing this was unable to stop this, it seemed common sense had eluded our Duggie. This was the straw that broke the camel's back or certainly mine so I was off to the place of my birth, BMH Rinteln.

    I'd been to BMH Rinteln twice before, once obviously saying hello to the world and visiting a friend's wife who had gone to great lengths not to cook the Christmas dinner by giving birth to a new sprog. I was suitably and predictably drunk and wearing my new sweatshirt with the message "Please ignore anything I do, I'm pissed". I can't think why he bought it for me, I didn't like being ignored. The head cheese of the hospital was visiting as it was Crimbleberry and I was passed off as a distant relative as he eyed my sweatshirt. I shook his hand, I needed support as the wall had run out and it was a swing door but managed to wish him the best in true pretending to be a civvy form. We found my friend's wife and asked her when dinner would be ready and how the sprog was and went back to his quarter for a ten pack, a tin of tomato soup and watched the Wild Geese for the eleventh time. Still like that film, I wonder how it ends.

    Sorry got sidetracked there. I arrived at Rinteln and was prodded and poked but then leaving the waiting room which was full of ankle biters managed to see somebody in a white coat. They took blood, they took urine and I've thought they've been taking the urine ever since. I had an x-ray then another because it hadn't come out properly. I'd been told to hold it and got confused, I didn't see how that would affect an x-ray of my back. I joined the throngs in the waiting room and waited for the results of my tests. I was a bit dubious when the doctory thing with staff tabs came out to see me personally and he was smiling. I never trust people who smile alot and he smiles again and a bit more. Still taking the urine I thought as he then told me there was nothing wrong with me. I asked him if that meant that THEY couldn't find anything wrong with me which is slightly different as I wasn't the one at Arborfield who carried medication around in a carrier bag and had more Benylin that Boots and Lloyds the Chemists combined. I think it was the shrug of the shoulders that gave it away when I asked if anything else could be done. The smile did disappear from his face if I asked if there was a proper doctor in the house and you could see his shoulders trying to push out his crown and pips. I had a funny feeling that he was going to pull rank so I just said my goodbyes, well "bollox to you" was what I said. He answered that he would be writing to my CO and I replied that I hope the poor bastard isn't ill as well and walked out. He never contacted my CO but I was past caring by then.

    I was still suffering but I had heard that there was a civilian vacancy in the GSE Bay and thought that would do nicely thank you. I had to grin and bear things which isn't much fun but if you grin and bare things you can get arrested. I enquired about the job and was told that it was there for me, it's just a matter of losing the green stuff. I didn't have time to work my ticket and I've not heard of many succeeding so thought I'd do the honest thing and PVR. The forms went in, signed, counter-signed and I was told that 450 pounds would be the figure. I had already counted out the pfennigs in the three litre Dujardin bottle and was way short so just wrote a cheque.The day loomed closer and closer and even the odd spiteful duty didn't shake my spirits, it totally pished me off but I was getting out so who gives a fcuk.

    The last week was magical, walking around with a clipboard (a trick I would frequently use as a civvy) with my booking out form. I had already got rid of my quarter but the wife had to come with me so we found a flat in a nearby village. The handover was perfect, the toothpaste filled the holes in the wall and the more than helpful moving team made more holes in the wall, the doors and broke most of the furniture but after all it didn't cost me anything. I gave back the multitude of green stuff and then received most of it back again as of course there was still the horrors of being a reservist. I did fight that and eventually got them off my back and ceremoniously burned the sodding lot. It was the fact that I was shortly to be classed as disabled that swung it but I did say I was Communist, Budhist, Seventh Day Adventist, Jehovah's Witness to no avail, maybe if I'd said I was gay but then there are limits. I also argued that it had not been brought to my attention when signing on which is true but try finding witnesses from a Gloucester recruiting office in 1979.

    So one happy Friday, of course I was happy, it was a happy hour and I was pished but Monday morning I would Walk in a free man. That weekend I prepared my kit for the Monday. I scuffed my boots, washed but did not iron my lightweights, Unpicked the sown-in creases on my woolly pully and ripped the name tag off my coveralls. Thank fcuk I wouldn't be wearing that green stuff again! I parked my car as the workshop lined up in straight lines (ish) and headed for the hangar door. "Get your fcuking hair cut" came from the square. "Bollox" was my satisfying reply.

    If anybody is interested I can carry on in another posting, this has gone on a bit but don't I always. Interesting might be how I was on strike outside the barracks and how I was going to shut the kitchen down at the sergeant's mess. It'sa up to you, I'm full of it and don't you know it. Let me know anyway. Please excuse any bad spelling or grammar, I do this all bareback, that is without a spellchecker.
  2. msr

    msr LE

    More please !

  3. Thanks msr. Don't hold back, tell me what you think, let the words come, don't stop, fill a page, fill another. Yes I know fcuk off you sarcastic bastad. Ok I will, working on a part 2 that should bore the teats off you and another on how to buy a car with using NAAFI finance. It worked for me.

    Seriously though thanks, I'm bored but I'm fcuked if I'm going to tickle my keys if no bugger reads it. All (any) appreciation greatly received.
  4. Just so that you know someone else is out there - I am, and I'm bored. Keep em coming, amuse me, bemuse me, just don't abuse me!
  5. msr

    msr LE

    I am not personally given to long posts, but do enjoy other people's.

  6. Might not be back until tomorrow. The wife forgets what I look like. This thing is infectious, shame I didn't discover it earlier. You know I wasn't getting at you msr, just a sarcy sod that's all. If you can say what you want to in a short post then fine but I don't know what that says about me. Can't really shove it into a few lines, didn't want to go down the THEM and US route. Was never sure who THEM were and was pretty uncertain about US becuse all of a sudden US became THEM so you had to re-calibrate your definition of THEM because they were US but are now THEM and you might even have been THEM yourself.

    I hope that's all clear because i'm fcuking confused as hell.
  7. An absolute joy to read, without sounding like I'm kissing your broken back ass! Its so easy to relate to........the problem is we're years down the line and the Army is still full of people that were bullied at school and now hold Rank!

  8. I quite agree littlejonny and I was bullied at school as well, that fcuking hamster didn't give me a minute's peace. Was I as fcuk as like bullied but then that meant I think apart from one shameful moment I never bullied either. We all have out moments, some good and some you want to forget. it's all about attitude and I had and probably still have too much for my measly five foot five and ninety nine hundredths, it helps I've put on a bit of weight but then it was my attitude that got up people's noses, couldn't and wouldn't take any shite.
    I never served in NI but lived there for five years until 1999, UVF neighbours but at least they weren't going to shoot me, fcuking drinking den opposite run by the UVF so put attitude definitely on the back burner, it's ok to have a point of view but I like my knees where they are. They might have had more stoppages than I had with my gat but knowing my luck it would heal itself when presented with my limbs. Time to shut the fcuk up but at least I'm still breathing and not limping, I can't fcuking sleep but I can sleep when I'm dead and through natural causes like on top of something of the opposite female sex or a woman. Finally learnt to mellow but if that bastad doesn't get off my back bumper I'll have the tyre lever round him and his excuse for a car.

    Sorry got carried away. Never bullied but saw the types, all cap badges so I'm not badgist if such a word exists but it does now. Worst one was someone who had been hod carrier in chief for the junior leaders lego demonstration team or something like that, no stripes on his plastic pants, no pips on his romper suit but he was a walking fcuking potato field let alone a chip on his shoulder. Hated REMEs, I don't think he liked the AAC and probably only loved that vision of loveliness he saw in the mirror every morning. Got me into deep stuck as no matter how much of an ******** he is, he was duty sergeant and the RSM's representative or so the RSM told me. I asked the RSM if it wasn't an insult to him personally because if he was an ******** then he was an ******** representative or was that the representative of an aresehole or was that an ******** representative of an ********. Didn't think I'd better push it and left the RSM trying to work it out. He was an ******** but a fair ******** but not a very bright ********. I got a severe rollocking for that. Yawn!
  9. Sorry forgot about big brother. the * of course is an arrishole.
  10. I thought I'd go a bit further on the THEM versus US theme. You must be fed up with the sight of me and my postings by now. Don't worry, I'm slowly running out of things to post so you can get back to normal and I'll carry on playing FM2006, Watford are in Europe now and Scotland are heading for a world cup win. Do I cheat? What do you think? Anyway back to the real world.

    I've seen the threads where the AAC and the REME try to tear each others to shreds, don't know why, not totally innocent myself but as I said about 71 Ac Wksp REME, it was all REME so any fcuk ups were REME caused, can't blame the AAC like we used to my other units.

    You get to Arborfield and the trades try and gang together while room try and gang together and there's the Scots who hadn't been to Sutton Coldfield. Now that's a place, we had somebody go over the fence when I was there and you only had to say you'd had enough and you were out the front gate. So you're at Arborfield and it's rooms that are THEM and US as we had a different full screw and we drew the short straw and got Oxford's finest and it wasn't fcuking Morse either. I was an old basatrde at 24 and there was one other that was longer off mummy's teat but the rest were the usual collection of bed wetters and those who cried themselves to sleep and just normal-ish eighteen year olds. Bullying wasn't a problem, it was stamped out, we stamped it out.

    It was at Arborfield you came across another aspect of THEM and US, the apprentice college. I remember being silent for a nanosecond as we were stopped by a guard patrol coming back into camp but then realised that this sergeant was an apprentice sergeant and that it had the same authority to me as my old scouts knot badge would have to them. So toytown tapes were ignored. We did play football against them and I remember it was a cricket score as we were thrashed off the park. I seem to remember their goalie got a hat trick and ours got a backache.

    You get to AETW and for those that stayed long enough, the brats and crunchies thing was never far away. The brats had better training, they had been doing it longer, they were generally more confident or smug in a few cases but our crash course in standing in straight lines, paled into insignificance compared to their backgrounds. Of course the AAC also came into the equation with it's variety of cap badges. You didn't have much to do with them but our staff were never complimentary about the AAC and I'm sure that worked both ways. Those on aircrew courses or pilots courses were of course better at THEM and US and helped to fuel the division as did the upgraders and those on tiffy courses on the REME side. the THEM and US was also now rank as well as we shared accomodation with the upgraders, they had their rooms and we had our ten man rooms.

    I only served at three units, an air corps squadron, an air corps regiment and a REME aircraft workshop. I managed trips to BATUS, the Falklands and a SAS TA camp where I've never seen so little THEM and US. The training major helped unload the helicopters and it was an all ranks mess. You did have to watch it going for a stroll as you might tread on somebody's hole as these trained killers at weekends and greengrocers and accountants during the week were out living in a shell scrape cammed up with half a wood. We stayed off the paths as the odd man trap was spotted, sodding Rambo has got alot to answer for.

    I think the worst examples of THEM and US rank-wise was in the Falklands. In the NAAFI as a junior rank you were not allowed to buy an unopened tin of beer. We always had a roll of harry black in the room or just bought wine boxes in the west store. One Sunday lunch as a change from pink (raw) chicken it was a curry lunch. One of the slop jockeys on duty went away and brought a tray of popadoms and set them down. The other went after him to rollock him as this delicacy was destined for senior ranks only. I would like to apologize to any senior rank who could not find a popadom larger than a dorito, I was that finger.

    I'm not knocking some of the threads that go BAT baiting or Space Cadet mauling or whatever the current insults are. There will always be THEM and US and if you feel you must then go for it. Another argument is whether the AAC is better for all the different cap badges that squeeze into the corps. REME is REME and REME fcuk it up just as good and just as often. I have had dealings with officers from other corps or regiments within the AAC setup and whether they are a plus or a minus is only for you in the AAC to decide but my personal dealings have not been favourable and apologies to any cavalry officers but I come across two with crinkly faces when the REME has supposedly misbehaved.

    I'll probably get slagged to fcuk for this but what's new. There's plenty of old and bold out there and I bet there's some old and bold prejudices as well. Oh well argue while you can, there's not a lot of army left and you never know, one day it won't just be the same colour beret, it'll be the same cap badge. What will you argue about then? I'm sure you'll find something, there's always a THEM and US.
  11. mistersoft you're a feckin star! good reading SUS
  12. Mistersoft I have never seen so indepth great writing about the Army. There is a book in you. Your style is absolutely brilliant. Your the next John Grisham or Andy McFlab. Get yourself a publishing agent.
  13. Thanks for everything, feedback is always nice when it's positive. Just had my first negative feedback on another post. Can't find the rope, not enough aspirin, safety razors suck on wrists, No railway line nearby, no motorway, I think I'll live, anyway it was just some smart assed crab.
  14. Fcuk him. He ain't worth your spit! Keep it up!
  15. There's always one legs, perhaps I do suck and you're all fcuking demented but shite I'm having fun so what the fcuk. I'll listen to the majority so I only suck a tiny bit, have to keep my feet on the ground, I'll be on Fcuking Richard and Judy soon and sell the rights for a dvd mini series but no bastrad will buy it because you all downloaded it on Emule or BitBollox and I'll go into decline and get a drugs problem and a drink problem (another) and I'll be back on Richard and fcuking Judy and I'll tell the story of my further decline and Les dennis will be on as well so that's two sad bastarsds sat there and they'll buy the rights for the story of my further decline so I'll finally make some money but overdose on Grolsch and die leaving a widow and five cats and I'll be a leg end because I'm dead and all that money and I won't see a fcuking penny of it.

    I think I'll just make the odd post and ignore any negative comments, well not totally but one so far hasn't shut me up. Unlucky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!