Been there, albeit a long time ago...
You go for it because you're a kid from a council estate with few prospects, well at least it saves MPs kids having to get killed.
I spent 10 years in, mostly getting treated like shit at the lower end of the rank order. One day on parade some dust was spotted on my boots, for that I got 240 hours extra work at weekends. I got married. My wife got treated like shit because of my lowly rank. A senior NCO groped her, I hit him. I got to go to jail, and he got let off, despite being a serial groper. They tried to get at my wife whilst I was inside. Our rates for being overseas got cut, so there was no point being overseas. In the end I put my money on the table and resigned (PVR) early. So many people in my unit were doing it that mine led to a board of enquiry.
It doesn’t stop there though. Years later I have a son, and from the moment he starts thinking about future employment I tell him that under no circumstances is he to join the forces. I tell him about the good bits, but the mostly bad shit, the bullshit, painting kerbstones, painting floors, polishing dirty stuff, acting as a waiter for mess functions, all the demeaning shit, stupid rules, marching around squares, running with a rifle above your head, and the myriad other unnecessary bollocks brought down on you by power-tripping fools above you. So now he is an analyst working in London on a decent wage. Doesn't work evenings, or weekends, no guard duties, no near death experiences in foreign countries killing brown people so it doesn’t look like the world's only western aggressors are the yanks. He's unlikely to get a leg blown off and hang around with ginger royalty to make them look cool.
There were good bits in my career, and some of the lads were OK, but the best bit was walking out of that camp at Catterick having handed my kit in after my PVR.
Biting the hand that feeds IT
