The flush of excitement about the army had long lost its appeal and been replaced with familiarity and security. The group had seen parts of Australia none would have experienced had they not joined, and now they had friends. Mates they believed were solid, with whom they hoped they would step through life, who would be there when needed. Banded together by the army, not only did they work hard but they also partied hard. Drinking, the sign of maturity, the badge of adulthood, the proof defining the self as Aussie male, became an important ritual in their bonding. They gauged their exploits by the amount of alcohol consumed, by the hangovers and sometimes the young women in whose beds they found themselves. Their mateship and exploits held sway over them and they appeared to have all they wanted. However, dissatisfaction grew with constraint, repetition and boredom; the steps from teenage boys to young men had changed their view of what was desirable.
Institutionalized, the dead-end jobs the army forced onto them by a bureaucracy unwilling to see their potential, irked many in the group. Those picked for promotion stood out by dint of personality, or support by a mentor. Those who had no skill for self-promotion, conveniently forgotten. Comparisons with others their age outside the confines of their base, brought to view possibilities. What they saw were rewards and benefits that others had gleaned, but they had forfeited by their choice. Seen through the wire fence the world beyond appeared more profitable. Sports cars and a fast life beckoned.
Burnside Writers Group 