Up and down the ranks

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Vegetius, Aug 19, 2005.

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  1. Life nowadays is a bit boring. Do something wrong? You get sacked. Or promoted.

    In the Olden Days things were different. The concept of redemption seemed alive and well, which can be illustrated by those people who travel the full circle of the golden wheel of fortune and go up and down the ranks.

    For example, I knew of one ex-Queensman who went from Sgt - Pte then up to full screw before being busted again then started the climb all over again before retiring as a CSgt in I suppose the late 70's. He was very, very ancient and used to visit the bar in the TAC to tell war stories and be bought beers.

    I also know of two legendary coppers (both now sadly deceased, but songs are still sung of them around the campfire) who went from Pc - Sergeant - Pc -Sergeant. Their misdemeanours ranged from insubordination to drunkenness to criminally damaging the boss' flash new sportscar.

    Any other legends who've been up and down the ranks like a yo-yo?

  2. A legendary figure in the Royal Signals in the 70s and 80s was Paddy Mac, who went (I think) Cpl-Colly-Sig-LCpl-Cpl-Sgt-SSgt-WO2 in about six years flat. Big ginger-haired f*cker, scary as hell when I first met him at Helles in '78 as a lance jack. Hard as nails.
  3. Mate of mine in my old Bn was great at this sort of thing. Just before going down south we were both promoted He to full screw and myself to Lance Jack as a result I got moved to “A” coy and he stayed with “B” coy who Flew out a few days before us. The day they were to fly they had some spare time before the coaches left so he managed bluff the CSM to let him take his section down town for some last minuet admin, Of course they got absolutely p1ssed and were smuggled on to the back of the coach by other members of the coy while the Great and the Good of the Bn head shed took their seats at the front. Any way all went well until they decided that they couldn’t wait to get to Brize for a waz and eased springs in the aisle of the coach unfortunately for them there was a slight incline from the back to the front which led to the Adjutant to exclaim “My God RSM what’s this all over my newspaper, O my God RSM its urine” Any way after a Quick post mortem by the side of the road he was duly charged.

    The Co’s Findings and sentence were unremarkable and “X” was demoted to l cpl what was unusual was the Orders were held on the upstairs deck of a British Airways 747 at 37,000 feet somewhere over the South Atlantic (Which my be a Record).

    A few days latter “A” coy I included arrived in Fox Bay to find “X” with shiny Lcpl stripe resplendent on his JHW waiting for us. He seemed totally nonplused at the lost of rank. And settled in very quickly. As I was a red arssed Lcpl I had to win the respect of the troops step by step. Where as he was already an accredited member of the Bn Lunatic fringe got the celebrity treatment by all, so being seen as an Opo of “X” did my own credibility no end of good for which I am eternally grateful.

    The job in Fox bay consisted of the usual run of rotations (Ptls Pl, Key point Guards, Trg, Sh1t jobs around the camp) During the Sh1t jobs phase was where “X” made his next contribution to the smooth running of the Coy. This time it was in collaboration with “Y” another slightly deranged individual (F***ing Good Solider though) who had been sent to us from Recci Pl for various crimes.

    Due to the Masses of Birds life in the Falklands (If you’ve been there you Know) the problem of disposing of the swill from the cookhouse had to be addressed as these birds presented a very real threat to the Helicopters that we relied on to get about. During the war there had been a terrible incident when a sea bird of some type had been sucked into the engine air in take of a Sea King resulting in heavy loss of life of its passengers (“G” Squ SAS I Believe)

    Any way the official protocol was to burn the swill once a day and the CQMS was to provide 1x Jerry can of Petrol per day. You would have thought this would be an odious task but as the days went on I found that the troops would actually volunteer for it, I found this a tad strange and decided to investigate.

    The next day I went up the dump (a few hundred meters from the camp) the place was a mass of wreaked and discarded kit both ours and Argentine and appeared to consist of the results of a battle field clearance from the whole of the west island plus all the rubbish that the resident coy generated day to day. When I got there I found “X” Routing through the gash for discarded wine bottles from the officers mess (Must have been from the mess as we were all on the two jerry can rule) “Y” appeared on the scene dragging the dustbin full of swill above us I noticed the sky was black with circling Birds of various Types
    Due to the fact that there were no budding Ornithologists these birds were known by their generic NATO code names of Sh1te Hawks those of us that passed as experts in the subject could also identify sub species such as Big Back and White F****ers Etc.

    Having joined “X” & “Y” it was explained to me that the usual protocol was gay and that it was much more fun to lay the swill out await the arrival of the Sh1t Hawks, let them get stuck in to the feast that we had provided and then petrol bomb the sh1t out of them. And I must say although this must seem an incredibly cruel and callas act. The sight of half a dozen Flaming sh1t hawks ascending from the swill pit like phoenixes to then crash in to the bay was incredibly funny to us.

    This went on for a couple of weeks as “X” & “Y” and a small gang of followers (To my shame myself included) gradually reduced the risk of Bird strike on our helicopters by culling the Sh1te hawks when disaster struck. All was going well the officers must have had a particularly heavy night as there were twice as many bottles than usual. Swill down, Sh1t Hawks Land, Five Rds Rapid go on, about 15 Fiery Phoenixes ascend from the pit.
    It was at this point that the OC and a friend from another unit, whom he had been hosting the night before (Hence the extra Bottles) left the mess to stroll up to the heli pad to await the gusts transport back to Port Stanly .The Gust was hit full in the chest by a flaming sh1te Hawk (One Version has it that it broke his jaw).

    Obviously Moral was banned in Fox Bay for week or so, but it was soon forgotten as half way through the tour “A” and “B” coy's rotated. “B” coming to Fox Bay and us going to Port Stanly, We soon settled in to life aboard Costel One (It’s a floating prison in Portland harbor now) and prepared to celebrate the New Year in, It was now that “X” lost his Pin again and led a drunken Pl Attack in Look Out camp he was last seen on top of an RMP Landover kicking the blue light off before being overwhelmed by 10 times is body wait in enraged coppers.

    “X” Started the Tour as a married Full Screw and finished a Single Pte but was never one to feel sorry for himself. The only regret I ever heard him express over the whole affair was that his ex had f***ed off with his dog.

    When People talk about what makes the British army what it is, I always think its not that we are more professional than other armies and it is certainly not that our Kit is better but we simply have more “X” and “Y” Types in the ranks that will always fight no mater the odds and refuse to be beaten by any system especially our own. And no matter how often they fall foul of the system always manage to redeem them selves by the quality of their soldiering skills.
  4. ^ Fcuking top post. Flaming seagulls in Ze Malvinas. Classic!

  5. Ranks I held (in order) during my illustrious career: (dates as best I can remember)

    Cfn 1976
    LCpl 1979
    ACpl 1980
    LCpl 1981
    Cfn 1982
    LCpl 1984
    Dvr 1986
    LCpl 1987
    Cpl 1987 (before you ask this isn't a mistake I was promoted twice in the same year)
    Sgt 1988
    LCpl 1990
    Cpl 1991

    With the exception of being bust from LCpl to Cfn at CM for AWOL (196 days) most of the other demotions were due to my discovering Smirnoff at an early age. Never bothered me since I was good at my job and I wasn't a rank concious tw@t (like many), my philosophy was always the work hard, play hard one. Do I regret it, nah. Can't stand those who reach the age of 100 and say that it is due to never drinking, smoking etc. What's the point of such a boring long life.

    BTW never got bust from Sgt change was due to getting out then re-enlisting.
  6. FEASG-funniest post I have seen on Arrse ever. Outstanding!!!!!!
  7. Hilarious mate, top notch story.
  8. FESAG - absolutely brilliant - one for the "Best of ARRSE" I think. Agree 100% with your conclusion too.