Welcome to the world of violence.

You may be interested I reading some of WMB that never made it to print. This chapter was about the violence I experienced as a young soldier in West Germany on my first posting to BAOR.

A civilian reading this might expect there to be violence in the prison system, but would not expect it in the British Army in West Germany in 1979. At the age of 17 years and six months I was to witness and be involved in some of the worst violence I have ever seen to this present day carried out by NCOs and soldiers out of their heads on drink. The first eight man room I was in T battery block in Moore Barracks, had Scottish Lad a few years older than me, I noticed right away that he was very scruffy for a soldier, badly ironed uniform and not very shiny boots and in need of a hair cut. I had not that long been in training so I was very on the ball and had always taken pride in my appearance even as a schoolboy army cadet. I soon realised he was bad news as he was always asking me to lend him some money till he got paid, but I never seemed to get it back, so I soon tried to distance myself from him. One fateful night our room door was kicked in and a sergeant and a bombardier barged in, I stood to attention thinking they were going to inspect the room, they ignored me and made a bee line for Jock who was stood by his very untidy locker with the doors open. The bombardier punched Jock full in the face and he fell to the ground screaming and holding his bloody nose. Amazingly then the sergeant unzipped his flies and started to piss all over Jocks clothing inside his locker, the Bombardier then joined in pissing all over Jock and kicking him in his stomach calling him a fat minging twat. I just stood there at attention shaking with fear not knowing whether to look at them or stare at the ceiling, I did not know whether they were going to attack me next. They then stated to drag and kick Jock towards the door as he begged them to leave him alone. The sergeant then stopped at the door as in an after thought and looked at me and shouted “At ease McNally you didn’t see fuck all right?” “Yes Sar’nt” he then dragged the screaming Jock down the corridor to the toilets. I did not witness the next part of the abuse but found our later from Jock, the two NCOs had thrown Jock in to the bath naked and given him what is know in the army as a `Regy Bath` I had heard about this in training but until now had never know it happen. He was scrubbed with a scrubbing brush, like the ones you would, imagine a Granny doing here steps with. Bleach and vim would be used until the skin had been scrubbed off and bleeding, this also would involve more urination and kicks and punching. He would also be hosed with the fire hose and freezing cold water. Not surprisingly a few days later we were doing a battery BFT and Jock ran out of the main gate and went AWOL.
Another night a soldier was attacked in his bed by a Bombardier, who punched him a few times busting his nose and lip. The assaulted soldiers Rapier detachment sergeant heard about this and got revenge for the assault, a vicious fight happened in the block between the sergeant and the bombardier, that left the bombardier in bad way. The next morning the toilets where the fight took place looked like an abattoir, the floor and mirrors where covered with blood, I just mopped it up and never said a word. We were just left to our own devices then, I never remember any officers come in to our accommodation after work; it was up to the junior NCOS to rule the place with fist of iron.
I was literally too scared to go for a piss in the night incase I was attacked as happened to many young Gunners. One night when I did venture bravely for a piss, some lads kept their doors locked and pissed in pop bottles, I saw two soldiers shagging a German girl in the toilets, she was giving one lad oral sex while the other one banged her, as you can imagine I had never witnessed group sex before.
It was illegal to bring females in to the block and it was also illegal to drink alcohol in the block as well as gamble, all of these things occurred on a regular basis. One night a lad from our Battery was daft enough to bring his girlfriend back to the block for sex. He had locked his door and got down to business when there was a banging on the door, someone had told Geordie that he had a woman in there. Geordie wanted a piece of the action and hammered on the door, not surprisingly the lad would not let him in, so Geordie got a fire extinguisher and started to smash the door down. The other side of the door must have felt like they were part of a horror movie as Geordie smashed a hole big enough to put his hand through and then simply undid the lock. The girl must have thought she was about to die and went ballistic screaming and leapt through the first floor window, landed on the grass and escaped amazingly with minor injuries. Geordie pissed of that his prey had escaped had to be content with beating the lad to a pulp. Not surprisingly Geordie went on to transfer to the Parachute Regiment where he fitted in nicely.
This was the sort of place I as a teenager grew up in, but the more I witnessed it the more I just accepted it, I was just desensitised to it all, it was just life in the British Army.

© Mack (RG) The thoughts of a Falklands War Veteran.