Drinking culture in the armed forces.

Discussion in 'Royal Signals' started by Salford-Vera, Oct 12, 2007.

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  1. Is it the same as when i was in? I would say nearly all our free time was spent boozing. A typical weekend would be a whip-round friday morning and two lads would do one to Aldi (i think) with a schit load of 2DM and purchase alcohol.

    We would then all take part in regimental PT for an hour or so, finishing around mid-day. We'd then go up to the sqn mess area and start drinking. This would go on for most of the afternoon into possibly early evening depending on how much beer we started off with and how soon the married lads fooked off.

    Us singlies would carry on, breaking some of the time up getting some scran or having a shower and getting changed ready for the NAAFI to open which i think was about 7pm. We would stay there til about 10pm then mooch into town, now the thing about germany for those of you who havent been is that if you timed things right you could simply drink all weekend without stopping, good timing was essential though as not all the bars stayed open all night. You'll have to forgive me now as i cant remember all the names of bars we use to go in, we use to start in popcorn bar, nowt special but there would be the occasional bit of skirt to oggle over, then round to Frau Mullers place for a few more. We then make our way down to the night club near the bahnoff and show the locals all the new moves you nicked off the Happy Mondays and Bez inparticular. Now this is where things got difficult because the club finished around 4am and nothing else was open until 5am, so we'd stagger from there to snoopys, where the fella would do you a breakfast with beer obviously, you could even sneak a 15 minutes kip if you dared, this is fraught with danger and many a time have i seen people shaved or worse, super glued to the bar, which if im honest was funny as fook but not for the startled sleeper who then had to then rip his head off the bar.

    I must admit that i learnt my lesson the hard way from times in the Scorpion (scabs) club in Catterick, where i made the mistake of falling alseep, when i eventually "came to" i was getting stared at by everybody in the club, i didnt have a clue why they where looking at me but it made me feel uncomfortable and so i got a taxi back. When i got to the guardroom the lad stagging on said.

    "What the fook has happened to you?"
    "What?" i said.
    "You dont know?"
    "Know what?"
    "Look in a mirror mate" he said.

    So i fooked off back to the block looking myself up and down as i went but i could see fookall wrong, i even felt for my eyebrows which where still intacked. I was very confused but could start to feel the dread well up inside, all these people couldnt be wrong or just nosey.

    I walked into the block and went straight to the washroom, what i saw when i got in made step back in absolute shock. I counted 28 yes 28 lovebites around my neck, now if im right, there was £50 fine for a lovebite if seen but i had £1400 worth. What the fook, who the fook, when the fook, these questions whizzed through my head. Then as i was getting changed i found a phone number in my pocket, i went to bed but was unable to sleep cos basically i was schitting myself, i waited til the canteen opened up and went for somert to eat hoping to catch the eye of a girl who i knew and would be able to apply make up to stop me looking like and extra from the thriller video.

    A few girls actually tried to help but they just made it worse and when they finished i looked as though i was actually bleeding profusely
    from a huge neckwound. I tried the old toothpaste but that was a fookin con.

    I then left the canteen and went to the phones to find out whos number i had found.

    Ring ring "hello"
    "Hello, err who are you?"
    "Is that vera?" the mystery girl replied.
    "Errr yeah, whos that?"
    "Its <incert name>"
    "Do i know you?"
    "Dont you remeber lastnight in scorpions, its me that gave you the dog collar"
    "Dog collar?! What do you mean dog collar? I look as though someones tried very hard to hang me, im gona die for this you understand" or words to that effect.

    I was getting more and more frantic about what i was gona do as we had ssm inspection the next morning. Then i remembered we where due out on exercise the next morning and so therefore didnt have to wear the normal lightweights shirt and jumper but my combats, then as a stroke of luck, one of the lads suggested i wear a cam scarf to hide it, all the lads going on exercise agreed to also wear the same so that i didnt stand out.

    When it came to the inspection the sarnt major came upto me before reaching the rest of the lads going on exercise and asked
    "Why the fook are you wearing a scarf on my parade?"
    "We go on exercise in 30 minutes sir"
    "I dont give a flying fook where your going, get that fookin thing off"

    I could feel the life drain from me, but thought i only have one chance left, so i fell myself out whilst the ssm continued his inspection and went into the block and waited and waited as long as i could. Then i heard it, our Cpl said to the sarnt major,

    "Sir, these lads need to get away, they need to be at the training wing in 5 minutes"

    "Ok cpl, fall em out" and that was it, the relief was indescribable, i really could have cried or wahnked or both, even the lads who came back into the room where relieved for me.

    So the moral to that story is never NEVER fall asleep when out on the razz with squaddies.

    Nayway back to the boozing in Germany, you could then carry on all day, in virtually the same routine as on Friday and on into Sunday, where you would crawl back to your scratcher and kip the effects off.

    Good times, well in my opinion anyway although the downside of this is that im a chronic alcoholic now.......only kidding!? :roll:
  2. Friday around 1600 - finish work, mong around the block in various states of undress. Too idle to walk to the cookhouse. Smoke fags. Lie on pit. Wait for someone to turn up with crate of beer.

    Weekend starts with the sound of the first can being opened and first swig of beer; Do the crate while watching a video. Send the sprog for schnelli or pizza.

    Shower and change then over to the NAAFI. Half litre cans of strong lager at 2 1/2 DM each. Drink as many as possible.

    When the NAAFI closes, on to the 24 hr bar close to the camp. Drink more beer and the free shots that the fat minger of a barmaid keeps pouring because she knows the quickest way to a squaddies heart and is hoping for a shag.

    Anybody still on their feet heads off down town - any combination of nightclub/whorehouse/bar that will admit drunken squaddies. In and out of the nightclub to visit the 'wa*kbooths' - closed cubicles containing a seat and a roll of paper towel and a coin operated tv screen showing a small selection of porno films.

    More junk food.

    Back to camp and sleep until saturday lunch time.

    Eat brunch in the cookhouse then off to buy cans and watch another video. Get caught drinking in the block by the Orderly Officer and BOS.

    Start pressing NO2s for staff parade at 2200.

    2230 return from guardroom talking about fragging the BOS and cursing the army that treats grown men like kids and won't let them sit in their room and drink a couple of cans in peace while they watch a film.

    2300 book out of camp and go down town.

    Sunday night carry the worst of the debris out of the block prior to cleaning it the next day.
  3. Friday 16.00, attend beercall.......Monday 06.30 alarm goes off, look around and wonder why room is in sh1t order and who's stolen all my money. Eat remains of pizza found on radiator (you need a cooked breakfast, before starting work) Spend the next 20 mins looking for kit, iron, Pt vest etc....can't wait 'till next Friday.
  4. No shit Sherlock, I thought it strange that eveyone in the pub dressed the same as me. Only later did I work out why some of them kept shouting at me. Stopped dinking for a day and discovered that at some stage I had joined the corps. Went home and the wife realised that I drank (she had never seen me sober before)
  5. Hong Kong, early 90's, Friday afternoon, it was amazing how with careful use of bullsh1t and a conspicuous large brown envelope you could convince the duty Crab that you had an urgent "Crypto" delivery to make to HQBF. 1 Wessex taxi later, disembark in No 3 drinking order at HMS Tamar spitting distance from Wanchai. Lan Kwai Fong until goggles were thick enough then onto Joe Bananas, stagger out around 7 or 8 and weave your way down to Pacific Place and Dan Ryan's for Breakfast and the best Bloody Mary in the colony, probabaly end up staying for lunch, bed is beckoning by now, so off to the Cinema to sleep through the latest Hollywood offering. Roused by between show cleaning crew and fcuked off at the high port, crawl out into failing sunlight. What the Feck is that smell (I think I need a shower) Cab through the tunnel to Gun Club Bks, Shower, Red On, C'mon get out now. Time for another cab then (really can't be arrsed to walk anywhere by now) to Mad Dogs in Kowloon, this is usually followed by a small disruption of the space-time continuum, coz i have no fecking idea a what happens until I start gagging because someone is forcing Champagne (or at least a weak imitation of it) down my throat the following morning (sunday) in Pomeroys (back on the island).

    Actually I blame it all on the QM, that man was dangerous until his wife came out to join him.

    Thank God I'm older and (more) sensible now.

    Nurse......Screens....and bring a bedpan!
  6. Sad thing about this is that i work in a hostel for the homeless and we find a lot of ex-squaddies coming through who have massive drink issues, it does imo stem from their time served and the culture they're use to. We dont get lads who have normally only just left but i suppose thats because they can still handle the beer in regards to there tolerance to it, it hasnt really been built up, but they carry on drinking and so the levels of tolerence bulid up to the extent that it becomes a problem.

    I like when we get an ex-forces fella through, its always good to talk to em and i can also relate to what they say. I always seem to get the better of my results with them.
  7. Crate in Squadron lines
    Squadron bar
    Willi's - beer while waiting for taxi
    La Mela
    return to camp
    Squadron bar for lunch
    ad nauseam..........
  8. Hey ho, here we go: JHQ, late 80´s

    Friday 17:00 Parade at the Belgie Bar. Only people NOT there were the ongoing night shift. Have a quick whip round and sling the beer back until they closed at 19:00. (I think the price back then was 50pfg a beer, but my memory is a bit hazy there) Back to the block, shit/shower/shave then hit the Marly. At that time the favoured tipple was pints of Tizer. After the Marly it´s taxi time to MG and then that illustrious, top class watering hole The Gravel Pit. From there it was either taxi back to JHQ or down to the breakfast pub opposite the Hauptbahnhof which was open from 05:00 onwards if I remember correctly. Bloody hell, how many brain cells DID I lose whilst at JHQ ? 8O (Answers on the back of a beer mat addressed to the Gravel Pit please).

    Saturday 10:15 Open the bottle of preferred degag, stagger to the shower to sober up and then hit either the Marly, the Queensway or the Royal for the mandatory DTS. Back to the block for a very quick afternoon snooze before some wonderful person came in with a crate or a handbag of Herfie. Afternoon passes in a haze before hitting the Queensway in the evening. After closing time at the Queensway, same drill as Friday night.

    Chuck in the odd block party, BBQ, road trip, party at a pads place and bi-annual 72 hour disco and JHQ was the place to really fück your kidneys up :wink:
  9. Paderborn,Germany,80's.......16:00 Friday happy hour in the Sqn bar.....08:00 first parade,Tank Park.The hours in between were just drinkin,cookhouse now and again and more drinkin.
  10. Whilst we´re on the subject of alcohol: Nominations for the worst dive in BAOR / BFG or whatever it´s called these days ?

    Mönchengladbach - Gravel Pit
    Herford - B8´s / B9´s (At the top of the hill behind the Bahnhof)
    Krefeld - Got to be Flairs :D
  11. Elli Pirrelli's in Soest, never forget the night after a bouncer smacked one of our sqn and put him in hospital. It was never the same again, especially after the refit!
  12. Banana's in bielefeld, complete with floorboards and shit loads of monkey nuts for some reason.
  13. daz

    daz LE

    Elli Pirrelli's in Soest???,Where the fuck was that :? , or were you just to posh for the Big Ben and OG's (top totty 1888 club :D )
  14. Herford - Donnas (cant remember what it was called when 7 were there)
    Krefeld - Fluam Bams or whatever its many guises was it the time.
  15. Forgot to mention Demitries for a gyros on the way home, or if Willis was still open, half a roast chicken :D