There you have it. A REMF finance puke, who is ticked off at having to stay longer, wants to make trouble in order to get back at the powers-that-be.
Hey, specialist, the reason you don't have all that fancy armor stuff is because the combat arms guys (for the most part) already do--just stay at your desk, and they'll tell you when it's safe to come out.
I was fortunate when in Viet Nam. I encountered only one real true REMF - our boats seldom came around them.
I had hopped a Huey to get to the HQ at Long Bien for my (voluntary) extension leave. To get from my boat to the pad I had to wade through a freshly fertilized rice paddy.
When I found the right office there was a line out the door of the building. Air conditioned buildings, starched jungle fatigues and waxed floors - I patiently waited in line. The troop ahead of me sniffed the air and decided to try again later. I moved up. Every guy in line did the same thing. I was soon in front of this clerk’s desk.
He sniffed the air and decided to take a break.
“Go ahead, I’ll just wait in you chair with my boots on your desk.”
He typed up my going home orders quicker than I had ever seen a typewriter work before.
That paddy muck came in handy.