I was fresh out of Singo and was posted to 1 RAR. The battalion was on ex and we were trucked up to high range to join them. I was sent over to my new platoon and out to my section. They had been out there for a couple of weeks and were all set up. My 2IC came and gave me a quick rundown when I noticed a McDonald’s wrapper. And then one of the diggers pulled out a cheeseburger and woofed it down, telling me they got Maccas brought in by chopper each day for smoko.
The next morning they got me to whip round and get the Maccas order ready. I was to take it up to our OC, which I did, all the while thinking to myself that it just didn’t seem right and were they having a lend of me? I was well aware of the long weight for the gun or the left- handed screwdriver, but Maccas? The evidence was there – they’d all had Maccas yesterday. Anyway, I waited nervously to hand my list over when the CSM bellowed, “What are you doing here? Get back down there. We’ll be moving soon.”
I quickly scurried back to my section where I caught my new “mates” snickering. One asked, “Well, did you give them the order?”
“Yes,” I replied calmly. “The order will be in with the next choppers. However, the CSM needs to confirm your order and wants to see you ASAP. You’re to go up for a chat with him.”
Needless to say, we didn’t get Maccas. It turned out that another fella had gone to court and brought it back on his return. – 1 RAR 1990.

The tough part about being an officer is that the troops don’t know
what they want, but they know for certain what they don’t want.

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