40% of us are on antidepressants. 40% of us drink far too much. 10% of us cheat. 10% of us leave.

OK, so I made those statistics up, but you see what I am aiming at.

I am a wife of seven years with a four year old and a two year old.  I am a Special Forces wife.  We don’t speak out much as we are too busy juggling single parenthood whilst our men are away, which is pretty much all of the time.  In fact after doing a quick online search it appears we don’t speak at all, ever.  But there are some pretty cute (nasty) t-shirts for us to wear supporting our husband’s jobs on sale.  Yay!  But we aren’t allowed to wear them outside as we aren’t allowed to tell anyone what our husbands do, so one for the hoovering perhaps?

I shall start at the first issue. Selection.  You get them at home for a bit whilst they prepare and then they bog off and disappear for six months.  You see them a couple of times in the middle of this but they are a complete wreck and cannot really function.  They walk around like a zombie and your job is to feed them up and stop yourself from screaming at them for leaving you with all the stress of your family, their family and your little one’s daily traumas.  You ask what they have been up to whilst your first child empties a bowl of spaghetti shapes over her head and for some reason their answer is forgotten.  So first word of advice would be, leave procreating until you are both settled in your new life if you can.

Then (if they get in, most do not!) that is all over, you have them home for a couple of weeks and they join whichever force it is and you all begin your New Life.  Your new life consists of moving to a completely alien environment where you a) do not know the geographical area and b) do not know a soul.  Your partner knows lots of people but doesn’t have any close friends yet.  You will be introduced to people in a closed environment ‘do’ fairly soon, but this warrants need of finding a babysitter.  Go and knock on your neighbours doors and introduce yourself first thing, otherwise you will be completely alone and you will struggle.  Neighbours = babysitters.

Training here and there, sometimes for weeks and weeks away happens all year around, they do six month tours (mine did his first tour five weeks after joining, therefore meaning I did not see him for over a year) and they also disappear to Places You Cannot Know About.  This brings an added dimension to the relationship.  You can’t ask and he can’t tell.  Sometimes he ends up not going, or he waits for a while potentially going and then doesn’t ever go, sometimes he goes.  Not confusing at all.  Annoying for social engagements, too.  “Ah, he might not be able to come.” “Why not?” “He might be getting ill” “Err….” “Shut up”.  When he comes back he tells you.  Some men tell their wives because they aren’t very good at keeping secrets.  This usually does more harm than good.  Mostly what happens is that the boys all discuss the merits of none of the wives knowing in case one of them slips up in front of another and someone ends up getting a divorce/all their clothes put in the bin.  Then they resolve to not tell anyone.  This brings me on to The Wall of Silence.

The Wall of Silence means if they misbehave when they are away that none of the well behaving ones tells any of the others in case it gets back to one of The Wives who, via the wife tree-grapevine-thing lets slip to the wife of the misbehaver.  When the Wall of Silence is broken, divorce happens.  However as we know, even special forces men have their weaknesses and sometimes they let these things slip.  Best not to repeat them.

You therefore become a secrecy box.  The things your husband does tell you cannot be repeated on the phone (people can listen in to those) they can’t be texted, emailed or even spoken aloud in public.  This resorts to lots of driving to your best-friend-who-is-also-a-wife’s house so you can Talk About Stuff.  Talking about stuff with someone who understands your situation is the only way to stop you going completely insane.  However, staying entirely within this social group results in you feeling like you live in a weird Special Forces bubble.  Not healthy.  Second piece of advice, when your babies are old enough, get a job.  No babies?  Get a job.

Back to the men sides of things.  You went from being a Marine/RAF/Army wife.  You had a place in an (albeit weird) society you had (in my case only just) figured out.  You knew your husband’s rank and what he did for a living and you could openly discuss his whereabouts and what he was up to.  There was a political system of hierarchy and you understood it.   You kissed goodbye to all that when he did selection and when he got in you had to comprehend a completely new way of doing things.  It is much more relaxed in your new world with regards to politics and all that hierarchy rubbish, but it does still subtly exist and your behaviour does still reflect on your husband.  Hence the need to socialise mainly outside of the bubble.  He goes back to being the new boy who knows nothing and you are the new girl who similarly knows nothing and no one, except you aren’t in school making all the new friends.  You are standing outside the gate watching him run around having fun.  I’ll qualify that – you never get to see him doing his work, which I personally think is a great pity.  All of the drawbacks none of the fun!

It took me three years to fully understand what was going on and even now five years on I can’t say I like the lifestyle.  The secrecy took me a couple of years to get used to but now it is second nature, in fact I think I just forget things rather than bother to take them in and mentally lock them away.  An ambivalent forgetfulness seems to suffice.  I still don’t really know how my children are going to turn out as I neither want an intense military influence on their lives but nor do I want to hide things from them.  We are reminded in pre-deployment briefings the effect of the stress of separation caused by tours can have on our children.  What then of the separation their fathers’ jobs inflict on their entire childhoods and teenage years?   I worry the way I bring my girls up will not be enough, I worry that the choices I make are the wrong ones.  I worry that there is no how-to guide and no manual for how to bring up my children.  No matter what anyone else says and how often I tell other women ‘it’s just like normal marines/army’ it isn’t.  It really, really isn’t.  You are on your own now kid, he won’t be there most of the time and your family are probably pretty far away too.

What’s worse is you can’t speak to him most of the time he is away either and these periods can last for several weeks.  This brings me back to where I started; antidepressants, drinking (don’t mix those two although a few of my friends do) and cheating.  All rife, the latter two occurring equally on both sides of the relationship, though of course not in all.  Those wives who manage to avoid temptation caused by extreme loneliness and Lack of Sex but also avoid drinking too much and who haven’t had some form of panic attack or mental breakdown at all are, well, lying.

I’m very proud of him, of course, but it is an odd existence and one every couple arrives at from a different background, treats with a different attitude and copes with in their own way.  So, you think your partner wants to join the Special Forces?  Good luck.  I hope I have not scared you.  It’s great…. honest…..

Geoff Marlow

Yr Uned Strategaeth a Gwasanaethau Tai / Housing Strategy and Services
Y Gyfarwyddiaeth Dai / Housing Directorate
Llywodraeth Cynulliad Cymru / Welsh Assembly Government
Rhydycar
Merthyr Tudful / Merthyr Tydfil

E.bost / E.mail: - Geoff.Marlow@Wales.gsi.gov.uk

The Royal British Legion have been campaigning for some time now to enable easier access to social housing for those recently or awaiting discharge from the Armed Forces, and estranged partners requiring re-housing. They wanted an overhaul in attitudes and legislative change in the way current and ex armed forces personnel and their families are dealt with by Local Authorities’ housing departments. Without wishing to rehash the document produced back in 2007 by The Royal British Legion, (available for you to read here) it explains that the most vulnerable service leavers are not being treated with the priority they deserve, and that the “local connection” criteria is nearly impossible to satisfy for armed forces leavers.

This was just one of the areas covered in the Armed Forces Covenant, now recognised by the Government, although not formally in law.

In the past few months, as an increasing number of local press and national tabloids have forced the stories of armed forces personnel and their inability to gain council houses to the forefront of their papers, positive sounds have been coming from the government. Housing Minister Grant Shapps has littered statements to the press with phrases such as “house-hunting heroes on the look-out for their first home” and “marching double-time toward making sure that those who serve our country get the homes and support they deserve”. The cynic within prevents one from becoming too excited too soon; promises have lain unfulfilled before and these come at a time when funding for all facets of government is obviously short.

The good news is that the wheels of change are indeed slowly turning. The various measures that are being introduced were outlined by the Housing Minister Grant Shapps in deposited papers in the Public Library on the 1st December 2011.

***

This is important news for all members of the armed forces and their families, but is by no means an end result.  At a time when there are thousands leaving the armed forces due to redundancies brought on by the SDSR and thousands discharged following injuries, change has never been needed so desperately.  Pressure must be kept on the government to deliver what has been outlined above.  We must keep discussing it so that the wider civilian community is aware of the problem and the government’s pledges.  

For housing advice if you or your partner is serving armed forces personnel, contact the JSHAO

http://www.mod.uk/DefenceInternet/DefenceFor/ServiceCommunity/Housing/

Hat tip to A. Keogh

Finishing the list he called for the wreaths to be laid.  At first the regiment’s men came forth, then guests of honour, associations, charities, youth groups.  Children as young as seven bore garlands that dwarfed their frames.  Then the relatives were summoned.  Thick in their number came the widows, children, fathers and mothers of each and every fallen man, queuing patiently to lay their wreaths.  My friend leaned her head onto my shoulder, the rustling of her coat catching me by surprise.  Softly she whispered into my ear “Oh God… far too many… too many lost.”  Then, resignedly she took stock. “One is too many.” A squeezing feeling around my heart tied a knot in my stomach as a dignified woman holding her small child’s hand purposefully strode into view.  Her head held proudly high in the cool November sun she calmly ascended the memorial steps to place her own blood red ring of flowers beside her lost husband’s name.  We knew who she was.  We knew her loss, though we did not feel it.  She was us on our blackest day.  She was me with you taken away.

All places retaken silence resumed once more before a memorial now drowning in a thousand fields of synthetic scarlet poppy harvest.  The atmosphere thick with passion, pride and grief, hanging with unspoken words of absent friends and funeralesque camaraderie, with memories of the fallen, the lost, the taken.  On a bank in the background a single bugler began the haunting opening bars of the poignant Last Post, his instrument cutting the atmosphere, concentrating all attention.  Then suddenly up to the heavens our eyes were drawn, and tugging at my sleeve my friend, knowing what was coming, silently slipped her hand into mine.  As our glances met I caught the sparkle of raw emotion filling her eyes and she bit her lip as she saw the same in mine.  Together we blinked back tears as we watched the skies fill with poppies floating down to earth.  More falling, more and more, until we were coated in a carpet of petals.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old 
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. 
At the going down of the sun and in the morning 
 We will remember them

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, 
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain; 
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, 
To the end, to the end, they remain

                                                                               Laurence Binyon

To begin with it was a test based process.  All the way through selection you urinate into a tube so that the Army can test your urine for drugs.  I had consistently been reassured that if you cannot wee on demand you were not to worry, you could wait and try again, so I was prepared for this attitude to be adopted in Bassingbourn.  How wrong I was.  Herein lay my first experience of being told in no uncertain terms what was expected of me.  I could not ‘go’ that day, so I popped outside to tell the Sergeant of my difficulties.  I was rebuffed with a “TOUGH. GO AND FUCKING PISS” and so with my head down low I toddled back inside and forced myself to wee.  Somehow, thank goodness, I managed it.

Basic training at sixteen was very much like a strict and aggressive school.  We did not get weekends off but we were allowed out for a couple of hours on a Saturday and Sunday around Royston, the time limited due to our age.  We joked that perhaps even the trips around Royston were a punishment.  They made sure we did a couple of hours of sport before our allocated time off to wear us out so that we would not go far.

Homesickness affected some recruits.  You were not allowed to leave within the first month and after that you could leave up until a couple of weeks before the end, but you had to go through interviews to do so and give notice.  Simply walking out was not an option.  Some people did leave, in total between thirty and forty gave up and some were kicked out for having attitude and discipline problems.  On parade every morning the Corporal would shout “WHO DOESN’T WANT TO BE HERE?” and the more reluctant recruits would put their hands up.  I will not pretend to be stronger than anyone else, the entire environment was a complete culture shock for me and utterly exhausting to begin with.  On one particular day in the early part of Basic I felt knackered and totally demoralised and nearly put my hand up.  In hindsight I think fear of failure was the only thing that stopped me.  I did not suffer with homesickness as I had a broken home and flitted between three houses, so I did not feel a tug for one particular part of my family.  It was tiredness that was the killer.

Some learning curves in basic were gradual and some were sharp.  When I arrived, I did not know that you were supposed to clean the soles of your boots as well as the rest of them.  Upon attendance at the Sergeant’s office he asked me why I had not cleaned my boots, so I grovelingly apologised and ran off to clean them again.  I bulled them to within an inch of their life but neglected the soles and returned to his office.  He repeated the question and I humbly apologised once more and disappeared off to clean them all over again, thinking him quite the slave driver.  You could have used them as wing mirrors by this point.  On re-appearing at his office he looked at the boots, called me a fucking idiot and lifted up the bottom of them to show me their soles, which had stones stuck in the tread and were generally a bit scuffed and dusty.  I did not make that mistake again.

Food was of a poor quality.  At meal times we were put into a group and marched down to the scoff house as a single unit of around thirty to forty recruits.  Once we got there we would fall out and be given forty five minutes to eat but because of the immense queues we would end up with less than fifteen minutes to eat our food and get out.

Lights out was 1030 or 1100hrs to begin with and we would be woken at 0630hrs by the Section Corporal shouting “GET UP GET UP!”   If you were caught back in bed after wake-up you would be beasted – given press ups to do or sent running, but you would still be in your bed clothes during the punishment.  Everyone was so tired that it was not embarrassing to be punished as everyone was in a shit state together.  I remember jumping up in my bed as soon as I heard the door go for the second time, so that upon entering the room I shared with nine other recruits to check if we were up he would rebuke me with a “yes, I almost caught you!”

Punishments were dished out for relatively minor incidents.  I was once caught drinking a can of coke in my room by the Corporal, who was walking straight past the window.  We were not allowed food or drink in our rooms so I knew I was in trouble.  He came flying into my room and stuck his face right into mine screaming “YOU LITTLE CUNT!”  He put me on show parade – when you have to put your best combats on, and made me hold a full can of coke on parade.  The on-duty Section Commander asked me what the hell I was doing on show parade with a can of coke so I told him what had happened.  He shook his head and carried on, leaving me feeling about an inch tall. We had show parades every other night for having dust on our window sills and all manner of trifling things.  Group punishments were commonplace, to instill a feel of ‘letting the side down’.

I finished basic at the tender age of seventeen after 32 tough but exhilarating weeks.  As youngsters you are held for slightly longer than adults to allow for growing up time before going to your regiment.  I had a month of leave and then went to Bovington Barracks in the May for Phase 2.

To begin with you let me wait on you, but after you had recovered from the flight you wanted to do things for yourself.  The house had become a bombsite of exploded kit bags, dirty washing lay strewn across the living room, spare bedroom and hallway.  Webbing, helmets and body armour were still on the floor by the front door where they had been discarded.  Each time I tried to tidy it up to regain some sense of order I was rebuffed with “leave that babe, I will do it” I gritted my teeth, stopping myself from replying that I knew you would not, because it had been three days and you still had not.  As I prepared food you would bump into me in the kitchen going to get something for yourself, or stand over me because you were hungry and I had not finished cooking yet.  Finally, when I could no longer get into the bathroom due to the amount of stuff on the floor blocking the doorway, I snapped.  My first cross words to you.  I put my hands to my head in distress, and walked off to the bedroom.

By the time I got back you had started hurriedly tidying up.  “I am sorry….”  I was sorry too.  This house was our house but….. at least you understood.  Arranging what to do by this point had also become a nightmare, we were beginning to cross swords over arrangements.  You announced plans by beginning sentences with I. “I am…. I am going, I am doing.” Where was the ‘us’ and ‘we?’  One morning you disappeared off to play golf.  Why had I taken the week off work if this was how you were going to treat me?  You tried to fit in seeing every friend, every family member.  I was stupidly jealous, even though I knew I should not be.  They were not the ones who had ached every night, crying into their pillows for the lack of you by their side.  They had not lovingly packed boxes full of your favourite treats.  They had not wept when they missed a phone call from you.  I had been fixing their problems, lending them money.   I was beginning to fall ill from stress.  You got up early every morning and went to bed late at night, passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow.  You made comments such as “I don’t even know what you do for a living, you changed jobs whilst I was away” but you did not ask me what my new job entailed.  You did not really seem interested.  All you spoke about was tour.  All you showed me were photos.  You messed up, showing me exactly how dangerous your work was.  Work that you were going back out to do, within days.  Too much was being fitted in to the day times, there was no time for us.  No quiet time.  You were all over the place, and I was completely confused.  Sometimes it did not really feel like you were glad to be at home.  I felt very lonely.

We bickered over things we had not been able to from far away; all the things that had annoyed each other were now open for discussion.  It culminated in a huge flaming row, and many, many tears on my part.  The relief of finally being able to tell you how much it hurt to go from being completely enveloped in a bubble of love to being abandoned and hurting for weeks on end with no contact for huge spaces of time was horribly juxtaposed with the pain I could see on your face.  Finally you got it.  Finally I could see my boyfriend in your eyes.

For the first few days of RnR, we had been two single people co-existing in an unfamiliar familiar relationship.  Now, we were us again.  All it took was some wine and a lot of shouting.

I explained to you that to me, it had felt like our relationship had ended and that I had “got over” it.  Now you were back and even though I was obviously over the moon to be back in your arms, it was not all rose tinted romance.

Your reply stuck with me…. “For us everything goes on pause.  We go out there leaving a home situation and a relationship, and we expect that situation and relationship to be exactly the same when we get home….  But your situation has six months of change, you make new relationships and old ones grow with you.  I suppose I just forgot that you carry on being you, on your own, without me.  I don’t like to think of you like that.”

Deployed service people may need affairs managing at home.  For unmarried and married partners alike, gaining access to financial and property assets to handle them can be incredibly hard when the person who usually controls them is uncontactable.  Even small things such as household bills can turn into nightmares.  People who use General Power of Attorneys are usually those who work abroad for long periods of time, or perhaps are in prison.

The General Power of Attorney is a document that will appoint an “Attorney” to act on your behalf regarding general activities such as personal and/or financial matters.  It is not to be confused with a Lasting Power of Attorney, which is one that can be used when someone is losing their mental faculties.  This is a separate power that has to be registered with the Court of Protection.

A completed General Power of Attorney means you are handing your matters over to someone who is chosen by you to handle them.  The Power of Attorney does not actually have to be given to a lawyer, but the Attorney can be a girlfriend, boyfriend or best friend, or perhaps a sibling or parent.  Most importantly, the Attorney you appoint must be someone you trust completely.

You can choose to appoint an Attorney generally to act on your behalf. In this situation the person will have the authority to manage all and any of your affairs in your absence. Alternatively, you can choose to grant your Attorney authority to undertake specific tasks for you whilst you are away, such as renewing your car insurance, or paying a bill.

What can and can’t they do now they have Power of Attorney?

The person with the POA has a great deal of power, unless it is limited by the document itself.  They can do anything from signing cheques to moving money around in bank accounts.   However, the POA doesn’t cover functions of the asset-owner which relate to certain special personal responsibilities.  For example, an Attorney cannot normally perform in your role as a trustee or as a personal representative (i.e. administrator) of someone’s estate.  An Attorney cannot sign your Will on your behalf, or modify it, take action concerning your marriage or childcare proceedings or delegate the Power of Attorney to anyone else.  Your Attorney cannot use any of your identification.

It’s important to bear in mind that you remain liable for the actions of the Attorney. I cannot stress enough; the extent of the POA is such that it should only be given to somebody you trust implicitly.

How do you make photocopies of a Power of Attorney?

Perhaps you need to send a copy to a business or financial institution?  Photocopies should be made by a Solicitor’s office, where a Solicitor will stamp them for you with the law firm’s stamp and sign to say the copy is legitimate.  Most firms charge a small fee for this service, and you can usually walk in to high street practices off the street and enquire.

Some companies will accept homemade photocopies although it is best to ask!

Revocation of the Power of Attorney

A General Power of Attorney is automatically revoked if you die, lose your mental faculties or become seriously injured.  Once a Power of Attorney has been put in place it can be terminated at any time by destroying it, or more formally using a Deed of Revocation of Power of Attorney.  This Deed is only necessary if you have lost trust in the person acting as Attorney.

I have placed two links below to a completely free General Power of Attorney template.  It can be customised easily to include stipulations as to what the Attorney can and cannot do with the grantors assets, although I would advise should you wish to complicate the document in this way you seek professional legal advice.  The file format is .docx (Word 2010).

VERY BASIC POWER OF ATTORNEY – England & Wales

Armed Forces Power of Attorney – England and Wales

I am neither a Solicitor nor a Barrister.  The draftsman of the second POA is the very kind @TMT_Lawyer who is a practising Solicitor.  If you have any questions please get in touch and I will endeavour to direct your question appropriately!

On a personal note, I would advise keeping a POA locked away somewhere safe and not destroying it. With a partner in the military, last minute deployments are not unheard of and this document can be a life-saver!

OP MINIMISE is a precaution to prevent misinformation spreading and scaremongering amongst families of troops back in the UK.

OP MINIMISE means that a Category A British* casualty has been taken somewhere in Afghanistan.  Category A means critically injured.  Plenty of casualties come around from Cat A injuries and recover completely, it does not mean that a fatality is expected, but that the injury is significant enough to warrant the military informing next of kin immediately.  Of course, sadly, it is also the procedure when a fatality occurs.  To prevent other members of the casualty’s unit informing the family before the military can track them down and give them a clear informative account of the precise situation, all communications are shut down. This can last hours, and different OP MINIMISE’s may be called back-to-back.  Deployed forces are usually informed of OP MINIMISE being called on by tannoy throughout FOB/camp.

OP MINIMISE may be called at any time of day or night. If you are disconnected during a call or messaging session, this may be due to an OP MINIMISE being in place.

As usual anyone with further information on OP MINIMISE or corrections to this article is welcomed to offer these in the comments box below.

*sometimes also nearby European ISAF

Hi Charlie, thank you for asking me to write and help your readers with noticing the symptoms of PTSD/R – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder/Response.   Just to clear the name up, the Response word has started to be used more frequently, as in reality this is not a Disorder, it’s simply a response to a situation.

When I trained for working with Talking2Minds last year, we were taught that PTSD is:

A normal response to an abnormal situation

The thing about PTSD is that it can be triggered by one event or a series of events.  These events are usually traumatic and/or life threatening.  It might have happened directly to the person involved or they may have witnessed something.

Not everyone who has seen live action gets PTSD/R – this makes it much more challenging to identify and deal with.  There is also no definitive timescale of when it might start to take effect – for some it is immediate, and for others it can be months or even years later.   A bit like carrying a dormant virus, it might be within the system and exposure to something which creates similar feelings of a past event might just trigger it.  And it might not.  Until it happens, it hasn’t happened.  Wrapping someone in cotton wool will have little preventative help.

The really good news is that there is help available and the earlier one can get a sufferer to admit that they would like to return to a peaceful existence free from the debilitating effects, the better it is for all concerned.  The key to this is that they themselves must want to seek out help.  For some this is still a sign of weakness.

As a family member, wife, or partner of someone who has returned from deployment, what you are looking out for are changes.   Women in particular are used to using their intuition, their guts, to tell them when something is different.   Men are perfectly able to use it too

The changes you might notice:

• Mood swings
• Flashbacks – nightmares
• Aggression and irritability
• Insomnia
• Excessive drink or drug use
• Inappropriate anger
• Self harm or harming others

Notice if they are still doing things they used to love doing.  Are they behaving differently?  Is their life (and/or yours) being affected by their behaviour, their attitude?

Are they still able to join in with family life, have a social life and enjoy it?

Take a good look at your loved one.   When you look into their eyes, what do you see?  How are they carrying themselves now?

I’ve worked with partners of PTSD sufferers and they all experience things differently.  Many have feelings of guilt because they are finding it so hard to deal with their partner.  Some can feel disappointment, sadness or frustration, that he isn’t the person he once was.    Many over love and over compensate for the changes without taking into recognition what it is doing to their life, or that of their children.

In order to be there for someone else, it’s important to be strong in yourself.  Remember what they say on the airplanes – put on your own oxygen mask, before you put on someone else’s.   It is possible that you too go through emotional upsets and seeking your own help to deal with any problems is a good start to keeping yourself healthy.

You will not be able to ‘make’ someone else seek help, however you can reach out and ask for advice from many quarters – contact your regimental/squadron/commando Welfare office and they will provide you with the relevant expert military medical & psychological contacts to help.

Talking2Minds (http://www.talking2minds.co.uk) is a charity of ex servicemen and women helping service men and women overcome the symptoms of PTSD

Jackie also has a website for divorce ~ http://www.thedivorcecoach.co.uk

You cannot send packages yourself to “any soldier” like you can in America.  This is mainly because our forces’ postal system simply cannot cope with the amount of packages.  The Army tend to send out annual messages asking for people to stop doing this as the service can get very clogged, which prevents troops getting their personal mail.

Lots of women send letters out to Afghanistan containing naughty photographs of themselves.  The pretty photographs are stolen by the ‘weirder’ soldiers who are likely to write back, the not so pretty ones are put on a “wall of shame”.  For this reason I would highly advise against sending out photographs of yourself to war zones in the packages.  Please remember that these soldiers are mainly young men living together and your mail may not get the respect you feel it deserves.