The days of yesteryear
POSTED AT 01:39 AM

It may already be four days into the new year, but I thought I'd do a little recap of the past year in general. At least then there's some record of the year when I can still remember it, and I can pick up the necessary lessons for the year ahead. That's what you're supposed to do, isn't it? Learn from your past mistakes and don't screw around in the future making the same errors. Is that what growing up's all about?

I remembering ushering in 2004 at some corner of Boon Lay (oh the irony) in vastly different circumstances compared to the present. I guess you could say then it was a whole different ballgame from what it is now. Well.. yeah i don't really care to elaborate on that point but if you know what i mean, you know.

School's pretty routine anyway so I guess there wasn't much difference at all from 03. Perhaps more stress and more urgency on the teacher's part, but I think most of us generally took a rather laid back attitude towards classes, at least for the first half of the year.

The arrival of s papers, however, changed everything. Rushing to finish my chemistry assignments is an extremely stressful operation, and for much of the year it was a regular weekly activity. For some reason I didn't feel the same pressure over physics. Not that I found the tutorials any easier, but somehow I just couldn't find the motivation to muster the same level of concern for physics as I did for chemistry.

Comrade Dave got pretty busy as well... Fusion 04 threatened to become a full-fledged disaster but I guess we redeemed ourselves adequately at the end with a change of heart and attitude. Tapestry far exceeded its predecessor the year before, and I think of all our performances our gig at Far East this year has been our most impressive yet. It certainly was the first time I noticed a considerable amount of strangers stop to listen to us, and actually look like they were enjoying themselves.

I guess the whole deal about a levels made the year seem to pass by much more quickly. It almost seems like a fading shadow now, but I certainly remember all the hours put into the preparations, whether in the school library or canteen, esplanade library, loke's house, at home, zy's house, various mcdonalds, etc. Certainly the stress made everything quite unpleasant, but on overall I think I enjoyed myself quite a bit spending so much time with my friends working together towards the same targets, helping each other along the way, and making new friends to boot.

Volleyball - well what an adventure. We may have failed to claim the ultimate recognition for our efforts, but, as I wrote in my college essays, surely the attempt alone is success enough in itself. The outcome is inconsequential; it is the process that is important, a lesson to grow up on. Definitely I've learnt a lot from this experience, and I will always remember those afternoons spent pounding the courts at CCAB, all the sprained ankles and all the pain they brought me, all those evenings when we kept on playing and playing until we literally couldn't see the ball, and most of all the feeling of supreme satisfaction, to have clawed back from the jaws of defeat to knock in a victory.

As always, my memory seems to be limited largely to many isolated periods in time with no real flow between them. I can't really recall what I in May and June - probably studying, which explains why nothing worth remembering happened.

Where the heart is concerned I think I've pretty much been lost at sea for the last 18 years of my life. This year was no exception - so many destinations but no real conviction to set sail in any direction. Somehow, when you've been out at sea for so long your anchor just gets heavier and heavier. I don't really want to blame it on being confused but definitely I think I've made some major mistakes in this department. I get so easily hung up on details and little things that I'm always making things difficult for myself. As a friend of mine once told me, I keep making things so much more complicated than they actually are.

And of course suddenly out of nowhere you might find that the anchor can be so easily removed by the right circumstances. I've really changed a lot where this is concerned, and though I might not have thought so throughout the whole year I think now that these changes are all for the better. Or at least every cloud has it's silver lining. Well I know I've been rather cryptic here but please don't try to understand anything because I'm sure you may interpret this in all sorts of ways I never intended.

All good things have to come to an end; thankfully so do all bad things. The end of exams has been a much awaited event for much of the past year, and when it finally came I think there's no happiness or joy, only relief.

Prom was a pretty enjoyable affair, but bittersweet as well knowing that I'll probably never see all these people again ever again. At least, together all at one place at the same time. I tried to take photographs with everyone at least, but of course these pictures are only a poor imitation of reality.

A few wild nights in between with my friends, fond? memories of yq's "I'm not drunk!!!" and gn's "White castle!" As always I'm glad for these good times because they were spent with some very good friends of mine, and it's always nice knowing that there are people there to look after you (and get you back to your hotel in one piece) when you're in the shit and incapable of looking after yourself.

With the end of prom came the HK trip, avery enjoyable one indeed! Thoroughly enjoying, and a few special moments to go along with the memory of the trip as a whole as well. You'll never understand, I guess. Some things are really better left unsaid.

I had a particularly special New Year's Eve this time - not something that I'll forget anytime soon I think, nor anything that I'll have the opportunity to go through again. In any case, thanks for the memories.

It's hard to compare 2003 and 2004. Both years, I've had good times and bad times. 2003 was particularly difficult at some moments and I really had to dig deep to keep myself plugged in to everything. Then again, 2004 was rather difficult at times too, though certainly quite trivial in magnitude compared to 03 but I do remember feeling equally as bad during those moments.

Perhaps the biggest thing of all last year was me moving house!! Yes I moved sometime in February, and I really love my new house. It's so much more accessible and now I have my own room and own space and everything. It might be hard for you to imagine, but certainly my life changed drastically the day I packed my bags and bid my farewell to my old house where I called home for at least the past 11 years.

I don't know what 2005 will be like, but at least judging by the end of 2004 and the first four days so far it's full of promise. Then again, 2004 started on a pretty hopeful note too before everything went to shit. I guess I just have to take things as they come, which is what life's all about isn't it? Accept what happens and try to learn something from it.

I guess the only expectations I have of 2005 is that it should be a better year than 2004, and I hope the end of school doesn't mean the end of a whole host of friendships, because some of you are really special, though you might not realise.
Feeling: drained

All my bags are packed...
POSTED AT 10:22 AM

I'm enlisting today in a while - I'll be leaving the house within the hour. I won't be seeing you guys for a couple of weeks or so - be out in time for Hari Raya.

Meanwhile, have fun and so will I on a small island just north of here.

Bye bye everybody. Bye bye everything.

Lessons the SAF has taught me
POSTED AT 11:17 AM

1) Never drink water on your own accord
No matter how thirsty you are, any water you drink by yourself will make its presence felt all too unplesantly during the water parades.

2) Sir is sir, sergeant is sergeant
Sir is Sir
Sergeant is sergeant
Sir is not sergeant
Sergeant is not sir

3) Do anything, but don't get caught

4) When caught, act blur

5) TSAFICAA (The SAF is crazy about acronyms)
SAF, IPPT, SOC, ORD, SBJ, PS, PC, OO, OC, FIBUA, FS, PTI, BTP, IFC, IMT, CPT, 5BX, DI, COS, DOS, CDO, CDI, SDO, CSM, RP, SFT, BMTC

6) Black duct tape holds the universe together
Basically, everything other thing that you owned has to be black taped in one way or another.

7) Recruits are the lowest life forms there are
We're maggots in the rice. Feeding us is like feeding geese. Everywhere we go the characteristic buzz cut and the black plastic specs mark us as the pariahs of society.

8) M16s ought to be locked away in a cage buried under tonnes of rubble, never to see daylight again
This is a wife that you want to divorce even before you marry. She's cold, unfeeling and heavy, and needs to be oiled and cleaned ever so often.

9) Chicken can be cooked in a thousand and one ways, disguised as generic looking meat, chopped up and minced, but it will always be chicken
If you are a chicken lover, you will either like the food a lot, or you will soon cease to be a chicken lover.

10) 1 hour of admin time in camp is worth 2 hours of book out time in Singapore
The single most sought after commodity in camp, second only to an off-pass is admin time.

Purple Light
POSTED AT 05:01 PM

10 stupid lessons aside, 2 weeks in the SAF has shown me many new things.

Many people dread it, hell, I dread it too, but if you really think about it, it's not all that bad. It's a great way to force yourself (myself) back into shape, and of course it does wonders for character building.

Sometimes, you need to be thrown into the deepest shitholes to find your own heaven within yourself.

Not that army is a deep shithole; in fact it's quite the contrary, as everyone's saying it's becoming a welfare army now. At any point in time when I'm not feeling well or I think I can't put up with the physical training I can always sound out and stop training, no questions asked. Any time I feel that the whole experience is too overwhelming I can always be asked to be pulled out of training at any time and put into counselling with the orientation officer. You see? The army takes care of its soldiers, even the lowest lifeforms.

What worries me, is the real-life dangers that are present in the army. Worse come to worse, I don't really care what kind of shit they throw at me in camp. It's just a matter of sucking yourself up and putting up with everything. Suffer, suffer, suffer, but after all it's only a week to the next book out day and then everything will be left inside and we'll all come back out as civilians where we can lead some semblance of a normal life again.

No, what I'm afraid of are those things that can stretch into civilian life. Extra duties, confinement, and all these things that threaten to keep me in camp longer away from my family, friends and loved ones on the outside world. I intend to give my best during the 5 and a half days a week that I spent in Tekong, and I expect to be given back the 1 and a half days to spend as I deem fit. But of course it's not an entitlement; it's a privilege, and I've got to work hard to ensure that I deserve it.

More frightening, is the danger. I don't want to bust my knee in camp, even if I can get downgraded to a desk job. I don't want to get spinal injuries which I have to live with for the rest of my life. And most of all, I want to make it to ORD.

Of course I'm exaggerating. But the danger is real. Live rounds, wild animals, strenous training. So amidst all the trance-like routines and mental switchoffs I've got to retain some semblance of sanity to take care of myself. It's dangerous business and there's no sense in injuring yourself doing it, or worse.

But that aside. As much as I hate my rifle, as much as I hate the track, as much as I hate the four flights of steps I have to go up and down in 30 seconds, as much as I hate waking up at 5 in the morning to someone else's alarm clock, it's really not all that bad. Perhaps the only real annoyance is the fact that it's ICT - in-camp training - and I'm spending so much time away from home. But it's important training, and in spite of myself I'm glad to have at least some competance in the technical handling of a weapon, I'm glad to have at least some semblance of discipline instilled in me, and I'm glad that I'm learning a lot about myself and the people around me as well.

I guess as long as there is that sense of purpose then all pain becomes secondary, all suffering temporary.

At times it's really sobering. You understand that what you're essentially doing is you're being taught how to kill. And this point is all too clearly driven home during any of the weapon or close combat classes. I'm being taught to fight, and I'm being taught to kill. I've seen the power of a 5.56mm bullet before my very eyes, and soon I will be taught to use that power. Not something I am looking forward to, because I don't think any man deserves to have that kind of power, but nevertheless an experience that I have to go through.

Tomorrow night I'll be going back in again. It'll probably be the saddest bus ride back to SFT and the saddest ferry ride across the sea, but I think and I hope I'll feel better when I get there and see all my platoon mates again all together and ready to take on the next week together. Somehow at times like this you feel invincible.

Any last words?
POSTED AT 05:01 PM

Less than an hour to go before I start the long journey up north again, and I already have that terrible sinking feeling inside me. I know it's important to look forward to what's ahead and to take things positively but somehow in spite of all these the terrible feeling still manifests itself inside of me.

Hence follows another 6 days away from everything which I hold dear to me. I just hope I can do my best and excel and what is demanded of me, and somehow still find time to maintain some semblance of a normal life outside.

For the rest of the week, I'll leave you with one of my favourite army songs. I hardly ever put lyrics up on my blog, but when you read this just imagine that I'm somewhere singing this at this very moment, probably on the march to somewhere far, far away.

Purple light, in the valley
This is where, I wanna be
Infantry, with close companions
With my rifle and my buddy and me

SOC, Sibei jialat
IPPT, Lagi worse
Everyday, doing PT
With my rifle and my buddy and me

Booking out, see my girlfriend
Saw her with, another man
Heartbroken, back to army
With my rifle and my buddy and me

ORD, back to study,
Got degree, so happy
Can't forget, days in army
With my rifle and my buddy and me

Purple light, at the warfront
This is where, my buddy died
If I die
Will you bury me
With my rifle and my buddy and me
Feeling: numb

In and out
POSTED AT 09:26 PM

So... out again. The last weekend was a pretty rushed affair, with only 28 or so hours spent outside in the real world away from camp. Everything was pretty much a haze, and suddenly I found myself back at the ferry terminal looking at my platoon mates with their field packs jammed full of food, and my own rather empty one containing a few sets of clean clothes.

And now one day after booking in I'm out again with the luxury of staying home and spending time away from camp. Not that it was voluntary; I would have rather stayed back in camp and rest in my bunk, but medical leave means that the army washes its hands clean of you and sends you home for proper home care and rest.

I'll be missing my IMT summary test tomorrow, which is essentially a simulated rifle range for marksmanship training - 'time crisis', as one officer put it. That might mean that I wouldn't qualify to go the real live range on wednesday, which would be quite a calamity. However my platoon sergeant said he'll sort things out for me, so I'm trusting him on that one.

Now that I'm entering the fourth week of BMT, I guess everything's pretty much routine now, whether it's waking up at 5 in the morning to someone else's alarm clock, dragging myself downstairs and forcing down a full bottle of water to kick start the day, or whatever else that might happen in the day. At night I lie in my bunk and I often find that I've no idea what I did at all in the day. Time really blurs between days, and when you just throw yourself mindlessly into each activity the memories become all jumbled up.

Anyway, a 'highlight' of my time spent in camp must be the BCCT lessons that we have - Basic Close Combat Training. In war when you run out of bullets you're pretty much in the shit already, so I don't know how much use BCCT has, because I'm certainly not going to confront any GPMG or M16 or even a bayonet wielding soldier and try to pull some fast BCCT moves on him. That said, I guess it does have some limited benefits for bar fights and the like...

Back to the point. My BCCT instructor is a pretty scary guy. Let's call him L. He's not very tall, but he is extremely stout, with huge muscles that threaten to burst out of his BCCT polo shirt and a huge tattoo on his right arm to boot. Like all men of his size he's pretty intimidating, and a quick temper to match all the power in those arms and legs.

Scary, yes, but I've got to admit the way he intimidates us is pretty stylish as well. No officer or sergeant makes us quake in our boots as much as this guy. When he's around we all shout louder, move faster, and generally act like terrified mice, because he intimidates the hell out of everyone. And he keeps making all those one-liners that seem to come right out of the movies.

Gentlemen, there is a stairway to heaven. I suggest you take it. If not, I will bring you to the gates of hell. And you will not want to see what the outcome is, because you cannot bear the consequences, and I will make you regret it.

At this point one single thought goes through the 200 bald heads in front of him - we're really going to regret it.

Another time, after the end of the lesson, he asked us about the purpose of learning BCCT.

After a long silence, some brave soul piped out, 'To disable our opponent'.

How technical, how methodical, how 'a' level. Disable, indeed.

No.

'To injure our opponent?'

No.

I guess by then we could all sense what was coming up.

Gentlemen, I'm disappointed in you. You mean that we've gone through three lessons of BCCT with no real purpose? Tell me, why do we do BCCT? To disable? To injure? No.

To kill. Gentlement, we are learning to kill.

With that, he proceeds to demonstrate one of his high kicks which would knock out Mike Tyson, no doubt about it.

One thought goes through 200 bald heads - this guy could kill us with his bare hands if he really wanted to.

It was probably because of this encounter, that during our hand grenade lecture today, the officer asked what the purpose of using a hand grenade was, and was rather taken aback by the bloodlust behind our eyes, as we all yelled in unison,

To KILL!

I guess we all could do with a little less BCCT.

Another interesting that we do is the SOC - standard obstacle course, or the SAF's playground, as one platoon sergeant put succintly.

It may not look too challenging, and is certainly quite easy to complete in clean fatigue; that is, camouflage uniform and boots. Put on the webbing, helmet and rifle, however, and it becomes a whole different ballgame.

My brother once told me that the most exhausting feeling ever would be that which you feel as you jump off the ramp, the last obstacle of the SOC. I got a first-hand feel of what it was like last week, completing the SOC with my webbing, helmet and rifle.

It's basically a 700m rundown, the 10 obstacles, and a 600m sprint to the finish. We didn't do the rundown nor the sprint to the finish, but we did do a measly 200m run from the ramp back to the first obstacle. And I can tell you, it's really not fun. Give me intervals training, give me 2.4 runs, give me 6 click route marches, but not the SOC please.

I don't know how to describe it, but the feeling you get when you sink into the sand after jumping off the ramp, all momentum gone and the weight of the rifle heavy in your hands, is really out-of-this-world.

I shudder to think what shape I'll be in after doing the rundown.

The other day we did a 5 click jog as well - Ability Group Run, it was called.

Everytime I do a long distance run, the thought of dropping out and not finishing the run is always central in my mind. It's not so bad for the 2.4 run, because it's only 6 rounds, and there's the real motivation of completing the test after finishing the other stations already. With the AGR, it was much different. 2 laps in, and I was ready to call it quits. Somehow, though, as I contemplated the various methods of dropping out, 2 laps became 4, 4 became 8, and soon it became a matter of just keeping up with the guy in front of me. If he dropped out, I would too, but as long as he kept running, I would keep going.

I hate long distance running, but I must say that the sense of satisfaction and achievement you get at the end of everything makes it truly worthwhile. I just have to keep convincing myself to keep myself going, whether it's just for one more lap when there are 10 more to go, or whether we're already doing our cooldown. Just keep pushing onward and onward, and before I know it, it's ORD time.