Code reds

‘Code reds’ as they were described in A Few Good Men, happened a lot in my unit, the RAF Regiment, back in the 1990’s. I don’t know if it still goes on, but the recent mortar tube event suggests it does. On my particular squadron there were initiation ceremonies, there was bullying, there was sexual harassment and assault. The chain of command knew about it, because they saw it, and they did nothing about it. Going outside the chain probably wouldn’t have made much difference, either. The establishment would have closed ranks and defended itself. And as for any poor bastard that tried to expose it, sure they’d be posted out, but the story would follow them, and a discreet ‘drying room party’ would probably seal their fate. At best, a kicking. At worst, hospital.

So lets be clear, hazing, as the Americans call it, really sucks. None of it is good, and quite frankly, if you do it, support it, turn a blind eye to it, you should be kicked out of the forces. No debate, no questions. It's also illegal.

Sadly, in the late eighties and early nineties, as soon as you were posted to the squadron I served in, the shit started. All new arrivals had to strip at the next social event, usually with upwards of a hundred watching. I was unlucky enough to join the squadron just before the Easter piss up, which meant I was forced to get naked in front of everyone from Squadron Leader downwards, including wives and girlfriends. You were expected to make the same thing happen to the next arrivals, so that the ongoing abuse would be passed on to someone else. If you didn’t then you remained a victim until you did.

Then there was the practice of queening, where you were forced to the ground while a naked from the waist down ‘comrade' rubbed his naked arse in your face. If you heard a bunch of pissed up Rockapes shouting ‘Queen him! Queen him!’ you’d better run like hell unless you wanted your face used as a bog roll.

Then there was the barrack block persecution and group beatings of junior ranks, which happened on operations, on a tour of duty, which the NCO's knew about and didn't stop. Absolutely ideal for building a team spirit.

Then there was the eighteen months of sexual harassment and sexual assault that I faced, again known about by the chain of command and not stopped. It stopped when I bought myself out and became a civilian.

I left the RAF Regiment because I was utterly unsuited, personality-wise, to being a soldier. I wasn’t aggressive, and I was a loner, which caused big-time problems. The squadron I was posted to also had a big problem with rampant bullying, and my personality made me a target. And because I refused to bully and intimidate the people who came along after me, I stayed in the victim squad. It was really shite. I paid six hundred quid to leave and my notice period was eighteen months. I’d have paid ten times that to get out and it would still have been a bargain.

It was a long time ago, I've moved on and I'm at peace with it. If you want to know more, check out my fourth book, It's Not For Everyone

Cold Steel on the Rocks

We Are Cold Steel

Cold Steel and the Underground Boneyard

It's Not For Everyone