Squaddies trying to behave like proper people

[A signaller]

Weddings are always great for mixing civvies with squaddies, with universally disastrous results.

One of my mates from Aldershot had somehow persuaded a girl that didn't look like Jocky Wilson in a wig, to marry him. She truly was a few steps up from the usual fare and when all her family turned up at the church, it was apparent that they had a few bob and were not overly impressed with their daughters choice of husband. Pity they didn't get to choose the best man either.

He picked a complete heed-the-ball from the line shack to do the honours. We were all on the standard squaddies table at the reception. The one nearest the exit door, between the bogs and the kitchen, at the furthest possible point from the bride. When our man got up to do his best mans speech, he sent off the first warning signal to her family, by shouting, at parade ground volume,

"You lot on the back table, keep the fcuking noise down."

As he started his speech they were already looking alarmed. He put his hand on his wifes shoulder and said,

"Before I launch into my speech, i've got a small announcement to make. Helen has told me to expect to started washing a few nappies."

"Aaaaaahhhh," they all said, perhaps he isn't horrible after all. He continued,

"Apparently all the muscles in her arrse have packed up."

I found it funny, as did my ten mates, but there were 140 people their, with 130 not laughing, the miserable c-unts.

He finished off, with what is, to this date, the most inappropriate wedding anecdote i've ever heard.

"I'm having a lovely day, so i'll finish with this little story (mass groan). Everyone in the block knows that Pete's got smelly feet, but last year it got ridiculous. The smell was killing us. After a week of threats, we couldn't get him to change his socks, so had to take drastic action. We moved all his bedspace in the drying room and made him live there. He lost 40lbs in three days. But blow me down, the smell didn't go away. It turned out that it wasn't Pete after all......... Someone had had a sh-it, in one of the empty lockers, and it had gone off."

I had to be given oxygen. The brides mum had a face like John Prescotts arrse.

Yes, i know its 16 years old, but it had me giggling for ages, classic.

 

[instinct]

Only 10 years out.

Try again shippers.

Fair one but I only discovered it much later!

 

[colinmc400]

Fraid i have to dob myself on this one, for i did try to behave like a proper person and failed badly! First job as a civvy and had only been there @4weeks and got invited to the Company xmas do, at the Brighton Centre. The company were picking up the tab for the whole weekend, including accommodation etc, but importantly not the ale. At the last minute they had a few people bale out and offered the places to anyone else to bring guests, all still FOC. My folks dived in and decided a weekend in Brighton buck shee was a right result, so off we goes in my company car.

Now all the guys who had been to the Event centre before, said it was horribly expensive for beer, so i hatched a 2 pronged pincer attack on my sobriety.

1. A 1/2 bottle of Smirnoff was secreted about the wifes person, well in her handbag, for quaffing purposes later.
2. Smash a load of wife beater down my gullet in the pub next door, before going to the do.

Things are going fabulously and i am the model of restraint, getting about the other tables and making myself known to all my new colleagues, whilst only slowly slurping the odd pint or two. The pints must have looked never ending, as i kept topping them up from the secret stash in the wifes handbag.

The façade of normality started to wear off when the turn showed up on stage, it was Duncan Norville of the Chase me Chase me catchphrase. The Brighton centre has like an upstairs, sort of balcony thing and one too many "chase me chase me's" from the stage and i am leaning over the balcony getting stuck into Dunc's, "oi you queer fark, put another record on, your patter is shite" etc etc. Now i believed i had the crowd in my hands and needed to work them for all they were worth, as i thought their gasps of horror, were chuckles of laughter- wrong! Pretty sure i reverted straight back to forces humour in 2 seconds flat and let Duncs know exactly what i and i assumed everyone else thought and likely it was not good. Eventually the wife pulls me away from the balcony and pushes me back into my seat and the faces of everyone else on the table was one of "what the hell is that" and no-one would make eye contact with me., including my own mother.

I proceeded to have more beer and polish off the secret stash, which really was not the smartest idea ever and to be honest, i was absolutely monged by this time. I then decided the people sat next to me needed to hear my best gags and leant over to share with them. I started to over balance on my chair and my wife proceeded to help me on my way and next thing i know i am lying on the floor, looking up at her by now very irate face. I was so fucked, i could not get back up and proceeded to give her the bad news whilst still flat out on the floor. That was the last straw and her and my folks packed up their stuff, made their apologies and left, leaving me still on the floor. I don't remember too much more until the following day, when i went to check out of the hotel and they were nowhere to be seen and were not answering their phones, but all their luggage was gone. I made my way back to Bristol on my own, to find the wife and folks had gotten the train home and all had a monumental strop on with me.

Come Monday morning and i was sure i was going to be sacked, so rather than wait for the call, i headed off to Haywards Heath, to jump before i was pushed. When i walked into the offices, there was lots of sniggering behind hands and pointing at the new guy and defo felt i was doing the walk of shame. Into the bosses office and i starts on the apology and offer to resign etc etc. The cnut made me squirm for what seemed like ages, but eventually he started smirking and says, "the fact you are here unprompted means you know what you did was serious and was not behaviour becoming one of our staff etc etc. BUT we all make mistakes and you have had your one chance. Go home and make sure it doesn't happen again". Red faced i made my way out, relieved to have survived.

Now i managed to keep things under control at work for 3 years, until another xmas do in a hotel in Bournemouth and to be honest, there were worse goings on than i had managed in Brighton. There was some serious amount of booze consumed and one other guys wife made my ranting at Duncan Norville seem tame. There were broken windows and fire hoses being let off and she had a wail of time. She did a great job of taking the pressure off me and very few were made aware of the fact that i had been found by the hotel management, bollock naked in one of the corridors, having pissed all over the floor of said corridor, having locked myself out of my room. My wife had no idea about that one!!

 

[naguere]

Was staying with my newly re-married and housed brother and wife. She didnât like me-still doesnât!Mum had told me to be on my best behaviour!! Well, after dinner my brother & I got laid into the claret in a big way - it never agrees with me.
3 oâclock in the morning, pitch black in my unfamiliar bedroom, desperately need a pee. Crawl round the room trying to find door. Give up! Small sash windows @ about the right height. Curtains open, open & hold open the window with left hand fingers, sort of squat down & in the middle of a serious wizz the bloody window slides down trapping said fingers. B*ll*ck naked and it needs two hands to open so call out for brother! âWhat the fecks going on?â as the light goes on to find me trapped, naked & pissing all over the new sister-in-lawâs prized family photo collection, all neatly shelved on the window ledge.
Couldnât even get my coat and the next day-WELL!!!

Bin there, done that,

 

[ste14w]

Ace of spades behind the WEINBERG

I once got thrown through the main entrance window of the Weinberg down Bergen by a couple of Welsh Guards.
Bloody good night that was.

 

[Toastie]

Having left the Regulars in 89 and the TA in 98, I consider(ed) myself pretty much a de- militarised zone. But like dogshit in the treads of trainers, you never can quite get rid of it all. The following tale of woe is pretty tame by the standards of the above stories but it goes to show the pathetic levels of “ready to be offended, particularly on behalf of someone else” that pass for civi workplaces these days.

A couple of years ago I was teaching a course. On it were a couple of lads and lasses who were acting up a bit but as it was injecting a bit of humour into the room full of people that wanted to be anywhere else but an annual, deeply dull mandatory update course, I let it slide. Then they pushed it a bit far so I decided to wind them in a bit, at which the dogshit in the trainers made its presence known....

”Listen guys, we need to get this done. You’ll be in your own time before we finish so, up to you, I’m in no rush, my wife’s ugly and I’ve got salad for dinner”.

Yes, really.

Cue much mirth, the point was taken and we got the job done.

Two days later it transpired that one of those on the course was the Assistant Deputy to the Deputy Assistant Deputy Manager of Something Or Other and he had complained that I’d made “the whole course very uncomfortable”. Real Managers then got involved and to a wo/man they just laughed it off as “just your style Toastie, it kept people engaged and got the job done”.

Then HR got involved. Apparently I’d committed a crime under some policy of theirs that carried the potential sanction of dismissal. Jobs in my field are very hard to come by and because of the way it’s structured, I’d essentially be looking at starting at the bottom again in another company losing 23 years of my life in the process. They inevitably botched the investigation with many complaining of the intimidatory nature of the questioning and the upshot was it dragged on for months. I ended up being signed off with stress for the best part of a year.

I was stripped of my training position that cost me £10s of thousands and given a 1 year written warning. I may as well have taught them The Dance Of The Flaming *********.

 

[beefer]

Having left the Regulars in 89 and the TA in 98, I consider(ed) myself pretty much a de- militarised zone. But like dogshit in the treads of trainers, you never can quite get rid of it all. The following tale of woe is pretty tame by the standards of the above stories but it goes to show the pathetic levels of “ready to be offended, particularly on behalf of someone else” that pass for civi workplaces these days.

A couple of years ago I was teaching a course. On it were a couple of lads and lasses who were acting up a bit but as it was injecting a bit of humour into the room full of people that wanted to be anywhere else but an annual, deeply dull mandatory update course, I let it slide. Then they pushed it a bit far so I decided to wind them in a bit, at which the dogshit in the trainers made its presence known....

”Listen guys, we need to get this done. You’ll be in your own time before we finish so, up to you, I’m in no rush, my wife’s ugly and I’ve got salad for dinner”.

Yes, really.

Cue much mirth, the point was taken and we got the job done.

Two days later it transpired that one of those on the course was the Assistant Deputy to the Deputy Assistant Deputy Manager of Something Or Other and he had complained that I’d made “the whole course very uncomfortable”. Real Managers then got involved and to a wo/man they just laughed it off as “just your style Toastie, it kept people engaged and got the job done”.

Then HR got involved. Apparently I’d committed a crime under some policy of theirs that carried the potential sanction of dismissal. Jobs in my field are very hard to come by and because of the way it’s structured, I’d essentially be looking at starting at the bottom again in another company losing 23 years of my life in the process. They inevitably botched the investigation with many complaining of the intimidatory nature of the questioning and the upshot was it dragged on for months. I ended up being signed off with stress for the best part of a year.

I was stripped of my training position that cost me £10s of thousands and given a 1 year written warning. I may as well have taught them The Dance Of The Flaming *********.

Why am I not surprised.

Luckily in my world on the North Sea most of the guys were ex forces and knew the score. Stand fast the Crabs though.

 

[JackSofty]

Just bearing in mind the thread title, I'm giving it up as a bad job.


Sent from my karzi while losing several pounds

 

[TheSockPuppet]

Having left the Regulars in 89 and the TA in 98, I consider(ed) myself pretty much a de- militarised zone. But like dogshit in the treads of trainers, you never can quite get rid of it all. The following tale of woe is pretty tame by the standards of the above stories but it goes to show the pathetic levels of “ready to be offended, particularly on behalf of someone else” that pass for civi workplaces these days.

A couple of years ago I was teaching a course. On it were a couple of lads and lasses who were acting up a bit but as it was injecting a bit of humour into the room full of people that wanted to be anywhere else but an annual, deeply dull mandatory update course, I let it slide. Then they pushed it a bit far so I decided to wind them in a bit, at which the dogshit in the trainers made its presence known....

”Listen guys, we need to get this done. You’ll be in your own time before we finish so, up to you, I’m in no rush, my wife’s ugly and I’ve got salad for dinner”.

Yes, really.

Cue much mirth, the point was taken and we got the job done.

Two days later it transpired that one of those on the course was the Assistant Deputy to the Deputy Assistant Deputy Manager of Something Or Other and he had complained that I’d made “the whole course very uncomfortable”. Real Managers then got involved and to a wo/man they just laughed it off as “just your style Toastie, it kept people engaged and got the job done”.

Then HR got involved. Apparently I’d committed a crime under some policy of theirs that carried the potential sanction of dismissal. Jobs in my field are very hard to come by and because of the way it’s structured, I’d essentially be looking at starting at the bottom again in another company losing 23 years of my life in the process. They inevitably botched the investigation with many complaining of the intimidatory nature of the questioning and the upshot was it dragged on for months. I ended up being signed off with stress for the best part of a year.

I was stripped of my training position that cost me £10s of thousands and given a 1 year written warning. I may as well have taught them The Dance Of The Flaming *********.

I'd look at legal action. You've done nothing wrong, they couldn't prove anything anyway and you've dipped out financially and in health terms.

It looks like someone has it in for you and has gone down the line of vexatious complaints to try and de-throne you. Mud sticks.

Take the bastards to court.

 

[Waldeck]

Weddings are a good place to show your stuff.

I was best man at my cousins wedding. Near the end of the night I decided it would be a good idea to put the ball cock of the urinal in the honeymoon bed, as you do. Not knowing that there was no ball cock (it was some automatic thingy) I was hanging on the tank trying to find the bloody thing when the whole lot came off the wall shiny copper pipe and all. Did a number on my rented suit, apart from the water there was a lot of green stuff. My uncle was a bit pissed off, still hasn't forgiven me and he's been dead for 15 years.

Ended up just leaving a rose and a bog roll in the bed. Getting into their room was another story in it self.

We use to call Civies; English Humans or German Humans depending where we were, not sure what we called them in France.