Now, before I start, this is not a stab at the TA or the RAF out there, simply a recollection of two experiences I have encountered. Picture the scene: Pre OP Telic 2. Waiting at Brize for the sexy voiced RAF aircrew-woman (PC) to tell us to board in order of rank. It was the advance party and I only knew one other person there, the OC. He knobs off as he's an officer and gets to pick a nice seat either near the emergency exit or as far away from the crapper as possible. Im stood there with my green slime beret on like a fukcing becon. In hindsight I should of taken it off, especially as I was just about to board the plane. I spied a fist* of blokes, all looking at me from the corner of their eyes and pointing at me with their thumbs. My inner monologue was shouting at me 'Take the beret off! They are going to come and talk to you! Tw@t!' But no, I left it on. One of the fist comes over and asks 'you going out to Iraq?' Turns out the fist of 4 were all mobilised TA who were constituting 50% of our Section. Any way, none of them had ever deployed before and were rank ranged from Lance Jack to WO2. They had loads of questions that keep me busy for the whole of the 6 and a half hour flight. Bugger. Even when I pretended to be asleep they'd wake me up. Once in Iraq and settled down we ended up accomodated in a nice ex servants quarter in the palace (OPSEC - no longer used, handed back to locals). It was 3 to a small room with no aircon. I was sharing with a TA Sgt and a regular Full Screw who came out a few days after me. Now this room was cramped. Lying on your campcot, if you stretched both arms out a la Christ on the cross, you'd be touching the other blokes head. Nearly, may be a bit bigger. But we were living in each others bags. One night I was awoken by a shuffling sound. Thinking it was a suicide camel attack or a huge rat in our room, I jumped up to try and find the source of the noise. The shuffling was coming from the Sgts bed. He was stroking one out with pride, no trying to hide it, and he carried on even when I was stood up right by him! 'Fukc this' I thought, went for a slash and a brew to calm my nerves before returning back to bed. Luckily he was asleep. I didnt say anything, thinking it was a one off - sleepwalking stylee tug. It wasn't. It happen on numerous occasions, nothing said. Me and the other full screw were chewing down chow about a week after the first incident, when the conversation turn to this subject. He'd witnessed it as well but was embarassed to say anything. Enough was enough, so I tackled the issue head on that night. I confronted the communal w@nker and told him to fukcing stop it as the room stank of his BO and that we really did not want to see him tugging one off. I suggested using the turdis (best before 0700hrs or after 2100hrs due to the heat and smell of shi'ite) or on the roof (mentioned in a previous thread in the NAAFI bar - good stress reliever). He got all embarrased, saying that he thought all regular army blokes did it and he thought we wouldnt mind. . And that it was a regular occurance on annual camp for communal w@nking to take place! . Im no prude, during basic there was a couple of occasions when one was trown off the wrist, but allways on the sly. I had to ask the Sgt the question that should be on everyones lips: 'what did you do with the monk?' 'I've got a sweat rag down the side that I wipe clean with' Thats why the room had a certain tang in the air....... He stopped all activity after that. Anyway. I was fortunate enough to move accomodation. I ended up in a bigger room with an all singing, all dancing Aircon unit. I was in a room with 2 terps; one TA the other a regular RAF. Both mine and the TA blokes bed were under the aircon and the RAFs bed at the otherside of the room, about 6 foot away. The aircon should only really be used if you are in the room so as not to knacker it out, and then only used when absolutely necessary. D!ckhead RAF guy must be a sociapath - he'd come in at night and turn the aircon down so the room was an icecube, then bugger off to have a shower. Come back, get changed and disappear for ages, most of the time leaving me and the other guy gibbering. I tackled the RAF tw@t head on one day, saying he was deliberatley trying to fukc me off. He tried to calm me down saying that he hadnt noticed how cold it was or that he was knacking the system. This is the cruntcher - he'd go to bed in his gonk bag, with his desert softie jacket and a beany hat on! Apparently, he likes to get in to a cold bed! I swear to God, I came in to the room during the day on numerous occasions with no one else in there, with icicles formed on the aircon unit. After I threatened to rip the thing off the wall and shove it up his arrse, he stopped using it at all. A week later, sure enough, it broke down, and he blamed me for sabotaging it. A quick poke to his cheast and me telling him to fukc off through my gritted teeth shut him up. He moved rooms shortly after. If you're reading this and you know who you are, hang your head in shame. Anyone else any amusing tour stories they want to get off their chest? *fist is the name for a collection of Int Corps soldiers. Similar to a shoal of fish, with less brains!