25 Signs That You May Have Joined The RAF Regiment

Banter turned up to max in this 25 signs article. The elite RAF Regt get a lot of stick, and when they throw their teddies out of the pram,  it just makes it worse. Sure, they provide a valuable service. They allow the army to go and engage the enemy safe in the knowledge that the rear is secure. Good old boys.

If you heard the term “Rock Ape”, and thought it was something cool, but subsequently realised it was derogatory, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If wearing Wedgewood blue to work just isn’t manly enough for you, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If, at the end of your Airman Selection Test, your careers adviser gave you the choice of Gunner or Gunner, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If every other person, in a different job role within your service, and every other service, in every other military, thinks that you are at the bottom of the food chain, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you spend most of your time guarding the cookhouse/NAAFI/crash gates but are still outranked by the MPGS, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you never venture more than a stone’s throw from the confines of your base, except when supporting SAS/Spetz Naz/SEAL Team 6/The Thunderbirds/Flash Gordon/My Little Pony, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you insist that the RAF Regiment is part of the Big 3, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you haven’t realised that the Big 3 is the pre-Afghan T.A., pre-pubescent ACF, and the presumptuous RAF Regiment, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you find that you do your job and get virtually no recognition from the media, other services, or even your own service, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you find that everyone else in your service looks better than you do in uniform, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you feel as though you’re valued even less than an armourer, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If your operational environment consists of sangar, gate, patrol, sangar, gate, patrol, sangar, gate, patrol, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you think that you are infantry trained, but have never been to any British military establishment starting with “IBS”, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you are painfully waiting for this list to refer to some viral video containing the words “toe to toe”, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If your idea of food on exercise is McDonald’s, Burger King, or KFC, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you find yourself staring at pilots, airmen, and engineers, and wiping a tear away at the thought of what might have been, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you suddenly notice that your shiny WMIK looks like it was just out of the wrapper, even though it has been in Kandahar for 10 years, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you consider yourself to be an “elite” fighting force, but couldn’t fight your way out of a garden party full of old ladies, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you do almost identical training to most army infantry regiments, and generally have a higher IQ, but never get the same respect, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you enjoy gassing other members of your service, because they are obese, they are self important, and they earn more than you, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you think that having attachments for your SA80 makes you feel like a real soldier, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you can drink most army units under the table, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you find yourself to be the cause for the world’s supply of banter on forum sites and Facebook groups, but never actually get involved in it for fear of losing face, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you look at your MTP uniformed body in the mirror, and secretly wonder why you never had the balls to join the Girl Guides, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

If you can stand toe to toe with the Marines and the Paras, because you too, have completed the Five Miler of Death, you may have joined the RAF Regiment.

Contact. Wait out. #48. Investments.

Contact. Wait out. #48. Investments.

As many of you will be aware, I have been away for a bit, so this issue of #CWO is a bit late. I can't say I enjoyed my time on exercise but it has given me plenty of ideas for new sketches.

Anyway, this edition of "Contact. Wait out." talks about the hideous practice of swamping that is present in our armed forces, and I'd hazard to guess, almost all armed forces in the world. Swamping is when a soldier wets the bed after being out on the sauce. That is to say that he can't hold his booze and pees himself like a 5 year old child.

Thankfully, I've never been so drunk that I've done it but I have seen it a few times. Most memorable was when two colleagues of mine came in to the block drunk and spooned in their underwear. One of them woke up and stood over an innocent guy, sleeping softly, before urinating all over him. We could hear the flow and the shouting from the guy when he realised what was happening, but by the time the lights were flicked on, the offender was back to spooning.

The drunkard woke just after everyone else had got up and dressed and then started to shout at everybody because his bedding had been swamped. A mate of mine picked up his sleeping bag, soaked in urine, and slapped him round the face with it.

Later, in a huge, packed briefing room, the Commanding Officer made reference to the incident and the whole room bellowed with laughter. It was sweet.

P.S. Thanks Dave.

8 Reasons Why My Wife Could Never Be A Soldier.

8 Reasons Why My Wife Could Never Be A Soldier.

On a recent camping trip I came to realise that my image of camping is completely different to that of my family. My wife wanted a whole car load of equipment whereas I'd have settled for a bergan. It got me thinking about whether she'd make it in the army. I believe that there are a number of factors that would be total deal breakers for her. Here are 8 of them.

She has no respect for authority.

I've come home from work many times and explained to my wife that I'm being sent to some back-of-beyond location to do a job that I don't particularly feel all that excited about. I've also come home and complained about some aspect of the management when crap is coming my way. Her normal reaction is to tell me to tell them that I'm not going to do it or to tell them to shove it.

“So they're sending me Stanta for a week. It'll be field conditions. I'm not looking forward to it.”

“Just tell them no.”

“It doesn't work like that sweety.”

“Well, I'd tell them to... F**k off.”

That's usually how the conversations go. I couldn't see her standing at attention in front of somebody giving her the good news. I reckon she'd get about 30 seconds into basic training before there was a monumental clash of personalities and somebody gave up. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be the army. Army 1 – Wife 0

She has no concept of timings.

We were invited to attend a pretty huge function. There were several units involved and the attendance was going to be in the thousands. I was dicked to help out with the running of said event, so I had to travel down early. Note that the travel time was around an hour and a half and the event started at 0900. The rest of the unit, and their families, were given the opportunity to take a bus that was put on by battalion.

The transport left at 0700, and I relayed this information to the wife, but she wasn't impressed. She wanted them to put back the transport timings because it was too early in the morning and she didn't want to arrive that early. I had to explain to her that the army wasn't going to change the whole day because she wanted to get a bit more sleep. She didn't ride down on the bus. My wife came down in her car a little later in the day. We'll call that compromise. Army 1 – Wife 1.

PT is never going to happen.

When motivated, and I mean really motivated, my better half will attempt some sort of fitness regime. The rest of the time it is her prerogative to do whatever the hell she wants.. Physical exercise is hard work and there simply isn't enough time in the day for that.

Unfortunately, in the army, PT is not optional. You've got it three times a week and CO's PT on a Friday. Let's not forget sports on Wednesday and that everyone is expected to get get involved with whatever fun run or crazy sponsored gym beasting that is going on. There isn't really any way to hide from fitness so my wife would either get super fit or get the hell out. Something tells me that, if she had no other choice, she'd soon get to enjoying whichever type of fitness she got into. She probably wouldn't like it at first but then who does? Army 2 – Wife 1.

She doesn't speak “Army”.

Reference Argos, come two knuckles left of that, 6 o'clock of gopping bloater, Walt chopper in the shemagh and Crye trousers. Seen?

If I said that to a fellow soldier, they'd be giving me a full debrief on the lizard that I'd just pointed out. If I said it to my wife she might get as far as Argos and then start thinking about going to look at the catalogues. Granted, there are a few phrases that she's allowed to slip into her vocabulary, but there is still a whole world of language that she'd just get annoyed at.

Can any of you imagine your partners answering the phone with “Send”, or referring to any local news agents as the NAAFI, or any cool new item of anything at all as “Gucci”? Nope, my wife does not play this game. Army 2 - Wife 2.

She doesn't understand ironing.

Gone are the days when our partners were good around the house. You'd be lucky if you have a partner that can cook. My wife readily confesses that she doesn't iron. That's probably a good thing as, like many of you, I wouldn't let her near my uniform. Remember when we had the DPM stuff that needed creases everywhere? Can you imagine giving that to somebody else to have a go on?

I can't say that I really enjoy the activity myself. It is just something that has to be done. That being said, I do take a little pride in doing it properly. The Mrs doesn't ever get the iron out. If she was in the army she'd look like a bag of you know what and that would mean trouble. Army 3 – Wife 2.

4,000 calories per day would ruin her.

That's what they say an exercising soldier needs every day. All the movement, advance to contact, section attacks, and shivering in stag positions takes it out of you. You need those calories to keep you going. We've already discussed how the wife clashes with PT. If she was allowed to smash the food into her, soup, main meal, sponge tart and custard, juice and a cuppa, for her evening meal alone, she'd end up the size of a house. We don't want that and neither does she.

You wonder why seniors get a little more rotund as they progress through the ranks? It is because they eat as much as they did when they were running about with the lads but they don't run about with the lads so much. The army is just doing its job here. Army 4 – Wife 2.

She would never survive in the field.

Have you ever gone so far into an exercise that your finger nails start to rot? You've turned your pants inside out, worn them back to front, and then gone back to your first pair because they are slightly less cardboard. You've had pimples the size of oranges growing on your face your hair feels like it has a colony of insects living in it. These are the things we face on exercise and it is why we look so bad when we finally come in.

The wife would struggle with just one spider sharing her sleeping bag with her. She'd crumble if she had to go more than a couple of days without a shower. We haven't even mentioned the food yet. I recently told her that I've often sat down to a meal of freezing cold baked beans and sausages for my breakfast, or drunk cold leek and potato soup straight from the packet for my dinner, and she thought this was disgusting. I don't think she'd manage on hard routine. Oh and the lack of sleep? Forget it. Army 5 – wife 2.

She can't handle banter.

I wouldn't feel normal if I wasn't called the C word at least a few times a week. It is almost a term of endearment in this job. Conversely, in my household, it is a real no go. I guess that's a civvy thing. Also, I'm used to my colleagues picking out any weakness and relentlessly pursuing it until I either snap or they find somebody else to harass.

My wife doesn't react in the same way. If I give a little banter she gets really defensive or gets upset. The same rules don't apply. If she was put into my work environment, and the gloves were off, she'd end up hitting somebody or she'd end up in a sobbing wreck in the corner. Easy this one. Army 6 – Wife 2.

In conclusion, although she's a pretty robust individual, she really isn't the army type. She probably wouldn't even consider it as profession. This is actually a good thing. If she was a typical army girl, I wouldn't be interested anyway.

Contact. Wait out. #43. AGAI 67. Pt.1

 Contact. Wait out. #43. AGAI 67. Pt.1

True story bro'. I was present for a blanket AGAI briefing where a bunch of NCOs were getting told how to correctly use the army disciplinary system. It was a good idea, due to many people not really understanding the correct procedures, but nobody monitored the people that had just been given their new-found power.

By the way, the army disciplinary system goes way beyond this simple term. The AGAI 67 is a minor sanction that doesn't go on your record. I guess it is similar to the NJP that the Americans use. You do get beasted by everybody that needs to sign it though, and plenty of folks are going to know that you've messed up, so it isn't like a simple slap on the wrist.

I witnessed incidents where folks were getting threatened with AGAI action for not getting their NCOs snacks from the NAAFI, for not volunteering for extra duties, for not attending non-compulsary gym sessions, and for many other such random and off-duty behaviours. Sometimes, AGAI action was replaced by crap jobs instead because folks still couldn't figure out the process.

Smarter people than me put  the AGAI system together, and when it is used properly, it becomes part of a robust and fair disciplinary and administrative system. It is human nature to want to play with a new toy. You just have to know what you're doing when you do play with it or you're going to upset a lot of people and make yourself look like an idiot.

For the record, I have been AGAI'd once. I was innocent of course.

Contact. Wait out. #40. The Ally Checklist.

Click on the image for full screen.

Contact. Wait out. #40. The Ally Checklist.

Let's poke fun at those folks cutting about that think they're ally as fook. If you don't now what ally means, think of the coolest, most together soldier in your platoon or squadron. Is there a guy or girl who seems to fly through everything and never get a spot of shit on them? Do they seem to look better than everyone else, even though they're supposed to be in the same uniform? They're ally. Being ally just happens over time and it can not be faked. Today's strip aims to give some tips on how to look ally but if you're not legit', you're going to look like a chopper.

Seriously, what a load of bollocks. The phrase is just a phrase and it will be superseded by another in due course. If your peers think you deserve the moniker then happy days but if you go chasing it you're going to fail. Just do your job, get face time where possible, and try not to get into trouble.

What They Don't Tell You in the Army Careers Office.

What They Don't Tell You in the Army Careers Office.

If you're considering a career in the British Army, you might think that you'll be stuck with a job that doesn't have much use outside of the service. You'd be mistaken. There are plenty of things that they don't tell you in the Army Careers Office.

You’ll Learn Another Language.
That’s right, it won’t be long until the banter with your muckers will be mint, as you basha up, and snuggle into your scratcher after a night nav ex up Brecon. Back in the block, you’ll talk about which females you’d love to smash, while waiting for your dhobi to finish, and before giving some turbo mong a regi shower for being a gipping lizard.
Army linguists get extra pay for being fluent in another language. Ask your careers advisor about qualifying for that extra pay now!

All Pouches and Pockets will be Utilized.
Impress your civilian friends by having useful and relevant things stored in your wallet pockets and pouches. When you open your wallet, you’ll have your driving licence, your paper counterpart, your FMT, your MOD90, your EHIC, your forces discount card, your Army Sports Lottery card, your ration card, and even your “Every Man a Recruiter” collection of regimental business cards. You won’t ever be at a loss for what to store in all those compartments again. Not everyone can boast that their personal admin is as squared away as yours. You’re in the British Army. You’re the best!

Your 10% will always be Exactly What the Doctor Ordered.
The next time that you go hill walking, you’ll be the hero of the moment when somebody gets a blister, gets tired from walking at an angle, and needs to sit down for a rest. Not many people will carry zinc oxide tape, 3 litres of spare water, high energy Haribo snacks, spare socks, waterproofs, extra warm kit, a compass, cyalumes, a multitool, a torch, spare batteries, arc markers, spare mags, a foam seat, and a bandolier of 200 rounds. Mortals will marvel as you switch from a fleece to a waterproof jacket when it rains suddenly, and they’ll be knocked down with a feather when you tell them that you’re taking all your warm kit off before you start walking!

Your Communication Skills will Flourish.
Remember when you left school and you couldn’t look a person in the eye? Well, after joining the British Army, you’ll be able to stand up tall and take a graphically violent verbal rebuke like a man. You won’t flinch as you are bombarded with coffee breath and fragments of a full English breakfast. No matter what is said about your wife, girlfriend, sister, or mother, you’ll keep facing your aggressor and you’ll stay cool, calm, and collected. Later in your career, you’ll be able to polish all of the personal insults that you have ever received and shape them into handy torrents of abuse that can be poured over unsuspecting junior members of your craft. If you have an inferiority complex, you’ll always have a captive audience to take it out on.

You’ll have Skills for Life.
How many times have you heard your bank manager ask for a fully trained mortar man to flatten the council estate down the road? Well, once you’ve qualified, you’ll be trained on the most deadly weapons systems on the planet. Who wouldn’t want skills like these in Civvy Street? The next time that the local butcher wants pheasant, killed by automatic weapons fire and grenades, you’ll be the guy he employs. Remember to tell any future employer that you have skills in shouting, need NAAFI breaks every morning at 1000 hrs, cannot work for women, and that your drink problem could well lead you to come to work drunk on a regular basis.

If you have any questions about a career in the Armed Forces, don't hesitate to ask.

Contact. Wait out. #35. Disambiguation.

Contact. Wait out. #35. Disambiguation.

The army is full of lovely little phrases like this. I'd always known that an egg roll was called an egg banjo but I didn't know why until it was explained to me. Basically, if the egg splits while you're eating it, and the yolk goes down your shirt, you'll hold the roll up with one hand while wiping the yolk away with the other. The action makes it look like you're playing a banjo.

I don't know where the phrase comes from. Some people believe that it comes from Northern Ireland in the 70s, other believe that it was around in Aden in the 60's, and still more believe that it originates from India in the early post-war years. We all have a habit of thinking that the great slang we're using is brand new, so it wouldn't surprise me to learn that egg banjos were around at Agincourt.

Whatever the derivation, there's not much better than smelling somebody frying eggs and bacon while you're on some freezing cold and wet exercise. If you're in a regiment that dictates that you eat ration packs on hard routine for most of the time, an egg banjo can be the greatest morale boost in the world. Fire up the Jet Boil, get your eggs on the go, and get strumming for the egg banjo.