a year already
Monday, July 18, 2011
I know I'm 7 long months away from ORD, and I've got two more rotations and an overseas exercise ahead. Still, this lull of NDP work and the posts by Mark, Ben and Joseph have encouraged me to put the 1year plus army experience in writing. Initially I felt like following some format, taking cue from their posts, but that wouldn't have done justice whatever we experience since it's to each a difference experience altogether.
I can safely say that up till now, I have no hate for national service. Perhaps just the duration, but that's only when my plans get cancelled and long term plans are derailed because of some training. I usually tell enlisting friends not to bother about adjusting before going in. Don't bother exercising, don't bother cutting down your shower time, etcetera. The fact is, when the parents leave the island waving off to you, nothing much can prepare you for what's next. I had a rough idea of what to expect thanks to the conscientious notes from Joseph compiled into a notebook. Rations to choose, discipline to have, marching orders to understand, among other things. It's the 'isolation' and the 24/7 supervision that draws the first blood. I'm thankful for the several vacations overseas prior to enlistment that left me with memories to distract most of the down moments.
Being posted to Whiskey was a decent surprise. The sergeants recognized me as I dragged the duffel bag still in my civvies, to 'everything out'. I got the usual 'eh, you look familiar', and it wasn't long before one spec asked me why I got posted to BMT again. So there I was, following in Joseph's footsteps of toilet IC. I recall one day when some guys ran up to me wishing me good luck, they found a turd in the middle of the toilet floor. Thank goodness it turned out to be a lump of brown coloured toilet paper, pretty convincing stuff, but I never found out where that brown colour came from. The PTs made me realise how terrible my fitness was. Luckily my determination caught me up to speed with my peers.
From each passing weekend I began to realise what Joseph told me about preferring to laze at home rather than to chiong out meant. Seeing recruits out in town for their weekend but yet so tired triggers a 'been there, done that' in all of us. Then came field camp, and the realisation of heat rash, freezing nights and sorely blistered boots. I'm glad to have had a great platoon to tide over the 9 weeks. Getting caught for wet tissues at the end of the field camp though, landed me my first guard duty. On hindsight it wasn't so bad actually, the ammo dump was a quiet place and my buddy was a nice guy to chat with. I remember the static and the interference from the nearby 300m range scared the both of us when it comms-ed through. It wasn't much help that stretches of the route weren't lit.
When it came the time for SIT-Test, I wanted to step up. I didn't have a yearning for OCS, it was for SCS. I didn't have the discipline to be an officer and I think I still wouldn't. When dusk fell, a few of us spotted young boars, their mothers lurking about watchfully. Damn, those things were cute. During the first night of SIT-Test, (was it only two days?) the commanders turned us out. Some rubbish was left around and they got us all in SBO in push ups, sit ups and the like. The whole company was barely awake, and people were muttering things like 'just own up lah' In the end a couple of people owned up, and past 2-3am we were dismissed. It turned out to be a ploy anyway, the commanders had planted the rubbish and planned to tire us out. I wonder if it's the usual treatment.
From there on commanders night, recruits night, all was smooth sailing. Seeing the new poly batch come in gave us that 'lao jiao' pride that every nsf will come to feel at least once. When we pop-ed, my parents were overseas and Joseph was off sailing, so my family wasn't there. It was a smooth affair and I know I slept early and damn well that night. Getting my posting to SCS a week later was a high point, and from thereon, army life got much better. As for that, another post too.
One thing I know about my BMT sergeants was that each had their own idiosyncrasies. The ang-moh PC with his accent and orders, the slack sergeant with his perpetual slouch and tilt of his head, the ultra nasal and anal HCI sergeant, everyone's typical yet unique lines. I wondered what mine would've been like if I went to rifle coy instead of HQ in 1SIR.
penned by joel at 12:50 PM
Dec x
Dec x
