Like for a full year, and they STILL GET COMBAT PAY.
Bite me, pogues. All of you. Fobbitty pogues whose pogueness exceeds all other pogueness.
My freakin' Brigade Sergeant Major is less of a pogue than you are, and he spent his deployment living out his childhood fantasy of being Highway Patrol, pulling over speeding golf carts.
Never mind that he didn't have a radar gun and hence could not actually impose legal consequences.
I'm in lovely Camp Virginia, which except for not having beer in the Shopette and no spouses in the PX, is more or less like post in the US.
Funniest thing I've seen today:http://www.shamusyoung.com/twentysidedtale/?cat=14
Yeah, gamer or LoTR geek will enjoy, those who are both (like, not to name names, my little brother) will enjoy the most.
I see from the Stars and Stripes that Fort Stewart has opened a club on-post to try to keep Soldiers from drinking and driving. Hip-Hop music, cheap booze, an expedited system for civilians to get on-post to go there, and it is within walking distance of the majority of the barracks on post.
Yeah, we had those, once upon a time. Back in my Father's Army, they had Officer Clubs that were actually nice places to take your family for dinner (during the day) and good places for 2LTs to act like 2LTs during the evening. They had NCO clubs where we could sit around and gripe about the stupid friggin' officers. They even had clubs for enlisted folks to act like animals--I mean, act like lower enlisted. Then along came the Kinder, Gentler, more Politically Correct military where we don't "glorify alcohol" and encourage drinking. Because you know, if a 21 year old SPC doesn't get told by his chain of command that drinking is acceptable, he'll become a friggin' monk and not drink, smoke, or chase loose women. Verdammt Victorian nonsense.
There's also this huge "force protection" issue which meant it was like pulling teeth to get civilians onto post. And if you don't have civilian barracks ho's, errr. . . , women of questionable virtue, then you remove the entire point of going to the club for your average single enlisted Soldier. If he can't chase skirt, he's not going to the club.
There were other restrictions slapped on the Club system to protect the Perpetually Indignant from the suggestion that their tax monies might possibly theoretically be used for anything they might find even slightly objectionable. And of course, if you provide a safe place for GIs to consume alcohol and meet girls, then you are Condoning Alcoholism and (whisper it) sex . . .
So the club system died. And more and more GIs started owning cars and driving excessive distances to consume alcohol and meet the opposite sex, and then plowing their cars into nearby stationary objects.
Under most systems of value judgement, plowing one's car into a stationary object is Bad. Especially when piss-drunk and speeding. It tends to be hard on the car, the driver, and the stationary object.
To the tune of a fatality or two a month at some installations, plus numerous injuries.
One hopes the Shrieking Sisterhood never finds out about this. Because, you know, it would seriously be immoral or something for GIs to be dancing, getting drunk, and having sex with governmental approval. Far better that they should be dancing, getting drunk, having sex, and plowing their cars into stationary objects at a high rate of speed. They'd be dead, they'd still be immoral, but at least the Shrieking Sisterhood would have a warm and fuzzy that can only come from hypocritical sanctimonious moralizing!