Picking Up The Brass

I rated this book 5 stars simply for the memories it brought back. I went through the same apprentices' college as the authors and did my basic training in the same squadron three years later. Not much, if anything at all, had changed in the three years that separated us. I'd forgotten all about lining up under the glass shelter outside the cookhouse. I guess there were no squadron track suits in 85 though, awful blue nylon jobs that made recruits stand out even more than misshapen berets and white flashes on one epaulette. The authors seemed to cotton on quick to the fact that room inspections were unpassable. Figuring that our early must've made things a bit easier! The most enjoyable thing about the book was hearing some of the jargon again; the bit where the sergeant says he could make more noise banging his bell end on the armoury door had me spraying coffee. Words that seemed absent to me were:

Jiff, i.e. to be ‘volunteered' to do some crappy job for someone with seniority, e.g. I've been jiffed to do a Naafi run
Areas: to be jiffed to go out and pick up litter before or after breakfast, generally fag butts
Utes. I guess these were called eating irons in 85
Jack: to let your mates down or get one over on them, causing them or everyone to be punished, e.g. he's a jack bastard for using any of the sinks marked out of bounds by toilet paper before a room inspection.
From the right, NUMBER! Just after CORRIDOR! is called in recruit troop to make sure everyone is there.

The pace of the book is just right, not dwelling too much on any aspect. It felt quite tightly edited and, thankfully, the profanity was allowed to stay just as it was. Well it wouldn't have been much of an army book without it!

The authors get across the sense of pride and camaraderie that develops in a short space of time and are to be commended for that.