Good Infantry Whinge

Discussion in 'Infantry' started by IdleAdjt, May 3, 2005.

Welcome to the Army Rumour Service, ARRSE

The UK's largest and busiest UNofficial military website.

The heart of the site is the forum area, including:

  1. Having been inspired by the discussion on a previous thread, I would like to her the big Infantry moans.

    Please let us all know of the biggest bit of REMFing you have seen or just any good examples of the "other arms" being cr@p at their job. Try to stay away from calling them war dodgers who would avoid the pointy end at all costs as there are some brave blokes in the corps. However, tell us all about the lazy, pampered and down-right incompitent REMFS.

    Lets face it, there is nothing we like more than revelling in our own misery. I take pride in the fact that we are short of kit, rations, water,ammo, etc but get the job done. I take a perverse joy in living in sh1t when the REMFs have an air-con corrimeck.

    An example would be a Loggie subbie who would not move his convoy off due to drivers hours despite the fact it meant the poor Inf on the return leg would go through an ambush hot spot just after Friday prayers. Cnut.
  2. there's two threads somplace about hatred for crabs and movers

    as a TA infantryman my personnel grievance is against regulars from REMF corps who consider themselves to be above us. we may not do it everyday, but when we are doing it it's a damned site harder than what your average corps soldier has to do. our bn has a number of lads now who have been in the contacts and got the kills, so it pisses us off when some bloke from kwik fit or vodafone looks down his nose at us
  3. ....OK... the REMF HQ in a big logistics base in the desert that insisted blokes from a 1/2 coy protecting the base and patrolling a 16km perimeter out to c. 5Kms (that is now done by the quivalent of a Bn) act as car park attendents for Nell 'I'm a celebrity - get me out of Iraq' to McAndrew so she could 'open' a new swimming pool

    or the Bulgarian CSS regiment......
    I was looking down the long road that goes to the palace, alongside the Shatt Al Arab one morning, when a convoy hove into view. As per SOP, the gate VCP stopped all traffic leaving to let it through. Mind, it took a while. They trundled along very slowly. And more and more vehicles appeared. We thought we’d seen the last one, but, no, more and more kept appearing round the corner, a km away.

    The first one reached us. Bizarre. Who were they? There were trucks of strangely Eastern European appearance. US woodland cammo. AK47s. More mustaches and swarthy characters than the ‘YMCA’ video. The interpreters were asking ‘are they Russians?’ (and shite-ing themselves about it).
    In the lead was what can only be described as a clown car. It was green, but a cross between a ‘kubelwagen’ and a Hillman Imp, with 70’s curtains covering its seats. Clearly this was someone important. It led the convoy – by then about 100 vehicles through the palace, and stretching as far as the eye could see.

    By this time there were convoys backed up, horns honking, irate people asking what the hold-up was, and an audience from every office and store along the palace’s water-side.

    A small figure detached himself from the clown car. As he approached through the heat haze I waited. He reached me. He was an odd mix of Vlad the Impaler, Groucho Marx and Sheriff Rosco. His mustache provided us both with much needed shade.

    He said ‘I am Bulgarian Major. Where are we, please?’
    Thinking that he wanted a military answer, I replied ‘HQ xyz Bde’
    ‘HQ xyz Bde, Allsopp Lines’
    ‘The palace’
    ‘Mmm. Which palace please?’
    (is this a wind up, I ask myself) ‘Basra palace’
    At this he looked aghast. ‘Basra? BASRA palace?!!!!’
    ‘Er… yes’
    ‘Not An Nasiryah??!’
    ‘No. That’s about half way to Baghdad’
    ‘We have gone most wrong!! Show me?’

    He produced a map. Or rather an A4 photo-copy, very faint. I looked at it. Turkey was on the top left. Iran on the right. In the middle was a little circle saying in Bulgarian – ‘here it is’ or similar. I recalled a page from my old 'bumper book of countries, for nine year olds'

    I took him to Bde HQ to get a decent map. Or rather several. He was like a kiddy in a sweetshop. When he’d done his ‘shopping’, he asked ‘can you take us?’
    ‘Where to?! Nasiryah?!’
    ‘Yes please’
    Fat chance matey, I thought.

    After they’d stayed for lunch and caused queues at the cookhouse of an hour and eaten all the food for the day, as luck would have it, some US vehicles were found that were going to Kuwait, and could at least take the Bulgars to the MSR that led to the west.

    Once again, there was the tedious business of letting them leave, with the alternate gate open for incoming traffic.

    Allsopp Lines took stock of its sadly depleted food stocks and chuntered.

    All was peaceful once more.

    At 3pm a chippy little Bulgar came in, beaming and said ‘Hello! Tell us, where are our friends?’
    ‘F~ck me. Have they left you behind?!’
    ‘You know where you’re going?’
    ‘Do you have a contact number?’
    ‘A frequency? A radio?’
    (at this point two sgts left the room, sniggering)
    Where is it in Nasiryah you’re going to – perhaps we can contact someone there’
    ‘er………. No’
    ‘Two vehicles?’
    Hmm. Just these two blokes and their clown car then.

    They settled in to wait, while efforts were made through MND SE to contact the Bulgarians. They passed their days fishing in the Shatt, sunbathing, and troughing.

    4 days later a call was received from Nasiryah and they came back to collect them.

    Waving to our new friends ‘Boris’ and ‘Ivan’ we watched them go, in their little clown car.

    And laughed.
  4. And these were the guys who were going to scream across the IGB :D
  5. Funny a similar thing happened with the Italians and cambrian patrol, we hosted them, provided weapons and radios (even a signaller) and off they trot. To give them credit they did complete the course but when they handed thier gatts back they were a LSW shy.

    On checking it wasn't just the weapon missing, the Tom carrying said weapon was also absent, seems he was left behind in Wales
  6. Not really a REMF shame story, more of a revenge one.

    3 PARA defence ex. Engineers sittng around on their diggers for a couple of days. Their keen as fcuk subbie decides it would be better to gift us these remfs to add some manpower to our sections. So constant tabbing, sleep depv and fun for them to! And guess who got the shitty long stag times?
  7. You should have worked harder at school and then you to could be sitting in a nice air-con corrimec counting the large amount cash you have just been paid. :twisted: 8)
  8. REMFs who think they know tactics!

    I get incredibably frustrated being 'informed' by REMF majors (who have been on the magic course that somehow qualifies them to tell Infantry Subalterns how to do their job) about tactics. Agreed, I can't reel off the 7 principles of the defence to you, but I've damn well conducted Coy defences and I'll be damned if I'm listening to your drivel about 'Offensive spirit' or whatever the hell that is!

    I don't tell Logis how to organise their chalks, Engineers how to build their bridges or REME why the rifle-I-just-shut-in-a-Warrior-door isn't working. I leave them to their jobs but they just can't leave me to mine...
  9. Fair points, however the REMFs do a fair bit which you guys at the front line don't see. How do you get your food, water and ammo? Who fixes your wagons when they break down? Without CS and CSS back up the infantry would be shagged.
  10. Plant, We're not saying all REMFs are bad but they do not always go the extra mile to support the blokes who live in worse, eat worse and have more of a chance of a grenage up the ring.

    As for Alfie. If doing a civvie job in green is your thing then cool. But if you had studied harder at school then you would be doingthe same in civvies and earning twice what you do now. At least the Inf are a niche group. Not many civvie firms who deal out violence...apart from the church.

    Come on you Infanteer. More abuse to the pie-munching lay-abouts.
  11. just a quick one. doing an ex oversees, the food was proper gipping. there was nothing of it, we were doing live fire sect/plt attacks all day, and lads were going down left and right because they werent getting the energy they needed in the food. we kept getting promised chocy bars were on the way, and they were! straight in to the remf rlc chefs and drivers faces

  12. Can I include the red arrows in this... not strictly REMFs... just smug gits.
  13. ugly

    ugly LE Moderator

    Being bollocked by a gurkha engineer sgt over my defensive drills on an ex where I was dicked into assisting and screwed into running a section I'd not met before. Wouldnt have minded but he was talking out of his ass at the time.
    Might not have been so bad if his English was a bit better than my non existant nepalese!
  14. Gunner BC seriously proposing to take his battery for a jog around the Ardoyne in PT kit in the mid-70s.

    And wanting the attached infantry platoon (on the long tour) to provide a mobile escort.

    The BC struggled to understand the refusal of his perfectly reasonable request. Cnut. 8O
  15. Those bastrads in the the RAF Reg who, upon overtaking my team in the Nijmegan marches shouted: 'if you want to do proper infantry work, then join us!'

    Shouting 'what? guarding airfields?' effectively knocked the smiles off their faces. We overtook them later while they were resting...