Military Policing - Page 2




 
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December 15th, 2012  
BritinAfrica
 
 
Quote:
Originally Posted by muscogeemike
I was told that two on the most unappreciated jobs in the military are MP’s and cooks. Everybody is looking at them, all the time, and they work 365 days a year.
They use to call the Army Catering Corps the Aldershot Cement Company.

I must admit we had some good cooks and good grub in the RAF, but the quality of the food always depended on the Catering Officer. Some units I was on the grub wasn't fit for human consumption, while others were brilliant.

In the RAF everyone worked 365 days a year, especially on an operational station.

My Granddad served in the Middlesex regiment during WW1, he hated the Military Police as much as he hated the Germans.
December 15th, 2012  
captiva303
 
 
I guess it's just something we will have to get used to the direst entry MPs. It's obvious that it has worked every where else for long enough...

As for cooks I would rather have an army cook than the civvies we get in most messes. They don't care at all...


We call army cooks fitter and turners here in oz.. They fit good food into pots and turn it into sh!t ... Hehe
December 15th, 2012  
The Highway Man
 
I once investigated a barrack room assault. I asked if there were any suspects to which. the CSM replied "100s" I asked why? he said he's the regimental cook!
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December 15th, 2012  
The Highway Man
 
Quote:
Originally Posted by BritinAfrica
They use to call the Army Catering Corps the Aldershot Cement Company.
Aldershot was my first company fresh out of training, it was brilliant!!! There were a large number of training units, plenty for a new RMP LCpl with a shiny stripe to get their teeth into. From baby Paras, Cooks Drivers, Medics, Blanket Stackers, Engineers, Guards, Nurses (especially the nurses! ) There were a number of nick names the ACC had from, "Andy Capp's Commandos", "Aldershot Concrete Company", "Any C*** can Cook", "Slop jockies" There was a parade one day, and someone could be shouting at the regi cook - "You're a C***!!!" The CSM shouted out, "Who called the cook a c***?" To which someone shouted straight back, "Who called the c*** a cook!!!" It was a sad day when they were absorbed into the Royal Logistic Corps NOT!!! (or really large corps as it came to be known with it consisting off 3 or 4 other Corps)
December 15th, 2012  
The Highway Man
 



WHAT IS A MILITARY POLICEMAN ?

Somewhere between the innocence of a recruit and a Provost Marshal, we find a creature officially known as a Military Policeman.

This species comes in all shapes and sizes but all the same creed, to annoy and harass as many as possible and to inundate with 252ís anyone who passes within a 3 mile radius of the Military Police Station.

Military Policemen are found everywhere, on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, lying beside, or jumping on practically everything and anything.

They are always around when one wants to see them least. Officers salute them, girls love them but everyone else hates them. A Military Policeman is truth with a copy of Garrison Standing Orders in his hand, beauty with a slashed peak over his eyes, wisdom when writing in his notebook and the hope of the future when he sees you with a leave pass.

He likes tea in large quantities, bull, reporting people and leave. He hates the NCO I/C, work in any form, RSMís anyone in general and you in particular.

When you are in a hurry he stops you and when you want information or help his mind turns to jelly and he refers you elsewhere.

He has the appetite of a horse; ask any cook, a never ending thirst for tea, the lungs of a Sergeant Major, the audacity to ask an officer for his ID card and the enthusiasm of a wet squid.

A Military Policeman is a horrible creature who can be ignored but never avoided. You can never forget him, wherever you are, whenever you are about to do something wrong, he appears from nowhere!

You see him when you are drunk, sober and even in your dreams!

You might as well give up! He is your captor, jailor, Lord and master. He is an unintelligent scowling pinnacle of Justice, who can smash all your hopes of a pleasant weekend by yelling in your ear, as he escorts you to the Guardroom:

ďITís WORTH AT LEAST FOURTEEN DAYS!Ē

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