MDN vs HM Armed forces and MOD (bullying)

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Mighty_doh_nut, Jan 19, 2008.

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  1. It has come to my attention that I was bullied, systematically during my time as a servicemen from the late eighties to the mid nineties and therefore seek financial recompense from the MOD and want those abusers charged and brought to justice.

    In early 1988 I arrived at Junior Leaders Regiment Bovington, within three minutes of getting off the transport I was called a 'spotty cnut, a worthless crow' and told to 'get a fcuking haircut' or my abuser would do it himself with a knife and fork.

    From here the abuse is constant. I was forced to run up hill when I wanted to stay in bed, I was made to scrub floors on my hands and knees, clean toilets with personal hygeine implements. I was even beasted senseless for my socks not having smiley faces.

    The abuse came from all levels, My Tp Cpl used to hit our arses with a pique handle to make us keep up on a run. Our Troop sgt would make us do knees to chest, until he got tired. Even mentioning his wife was ugly, and that he had salad for tea, so he could stay all night to make our lives a misery.

    More than once I was tipped out of my bed while still sleeping. I had to open my mouth whilst my SSM place dust from the top of my locker on my tongue.

    During PT I was made to do exercises outside my comfort zone, and was further beasted w2hen my PT vest came untucked from my shorts.

    My letters home document how hard it was, how harsh the DS were to us, how physically tough it was, little did I know I was being bullied, I thought this was normal. Thank God for the current PC world for bringing this to my attention in order that I can earn a few quid in court.

    I continue

    On the drill square, under the cover up of being promoted, the Drill sgt clipped me around the head 'physically assualting me' and told me that if I didn't start shaggin sparking he would take me to the drill square and fcuk me until my mums cnut bled.

    Clearly there were no text messages then but there was a blackboard in the block. I recall one September mornign reporting sick in fear 'Death by viewfoil' appeared on the programme, and already frightened for my safety and not wanting to be killed I went to the doctor.

    He accused me of mallingering and as a punishment for wasting his time sent me to the provo staff to be tought a lesson. I struggled to see how bumpering a ceiling with a bumper with a 6 inch handle educated me.

    I remained for twelve months, and was promoted to Junior Sgt Major, I've always wondered why but looking back, this was clearly a cover up exercise to make it look like was doing well while the chain of command enjoyed harming, abusing me, sexually harassing me and bullying me.

    I told the WRVS I found it tough and she asked me to take a Sven hassle book back to the block and made sure I had a stamp to write home. The padre was no good, I couldn't stay awake during his lesson due to extreme fatigue placed upon me during battle PT.

    I was made to wear itchy shirts, wear trainers that didn't fit (because the Tp Cpl needed to exchange his) suffer humiliation in front of senior trainees by wearing head dress without badges and going last in the queue for scoff.

    Clearly, reading back I was bullied viciously by professional bullies and serial intimidators.

    On leaving the training environment I was posted to Germany and my first appointment was meeting the SSM, a big man, ex parachute Regiment who had recently crashed a helicopter in Canada and killed a padre. His opening sentence to me was 'My name is W02 C..... L.... I killed a padre, gave him the posting of his dreams, a jumped up little upstart like you will cause me no drama's' My fears all came back, he then mentioned that he played water polo, and jokingly said I should slip into some trunks and join him in the pool..... He was joking, but there was an underlying menace in his eyes and I knew he would bum me proper if I fcuked up.

    All this time I looked back on this time as a learning curve and that these men were tasked with transforming a stinking bone idle snotty spotty civilians into some sort of soldiers. I wish I'd known what I know then as I would have walked out the camp gates and sued the living tits off the Army.

    Monday I will see a Lawyer and hand over the documentation and evidence I have and intend issuing proceedings.
  2. Does someone need a hug?
  3. you could use annakey to represent you in court
  4. Heart wrenching - my bitch has just passed me a tissue. Hope you succeed.
  5. Ord_Sgt

    Ord_Sgt RIP

    Can I get on that bandwagon as I had a strikingly similar experience, bastards. :x
  6. You aswell?

    I'm outraged :x
  7. it DOES go some way to explaining MDN's sexual pecadilloes....
  8. Are you a black/muslim/female/poof? No? Then bullying doesn't count when its inflicted on you and so forget your 40K compo and get on with it (and that goes for the rest of you nasty white male hetrosexuals out there).
  9. Worth a fiver at most. You're not a lesbian (as far as we know).
  10. I feel you are in a no lose situation here.

    Perhaps if you include the fact that your abuse has driven you to wear your little German barmaid outfit, your case will be sealed... as no doubt may be your cell doors but let's not contemplate that possibility at this stage.

    Might also suggest you change your name to Mohammed, father 13 children with 13 different women and then invest in a little Burberry number for the proceedings.
  11. Bah, TWA pussy!
  12. Doh-Nut,

    Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire. All those things happened to ME not you.


    Why not file a class action lawsuit ?

    I'm sure that a few hundred thousand victims of MOD abuse could be found.

    We could all file for a few "billyun dollars" in damages, bankrupt the MOD and at the very least put an end to any future torturing.

    Where's me blankie - I'm off to dream about a better world.
  13. Bullying? That's not bullying. Sounds like you had an easy time of it.

    Now if you want to hear about bullying, let me tell you.

    Back in 1979 I was .... zzzzzzzzzzzz