"Who didn't bring their FAD (First Aid Dressing)? Hands up."

"Oh shit."

"Shit!"

"Shit."

"Shit."

"Sheeit."

"Shit."

- Warrant Officer Rajoo, first day of field camp

The above exchange was so funny I made a note to blog it. Once we reached the field camp site, he asked who didn't bring this Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) item. There was immediately a chorus of shits from a lot of people.

Well, time does certainly fly. 3 more weeks till my end of course. Field camp and my section live firing was tiring and very dirty. Rained 2 days out of my camp, and heavily during live firing. Had to lie down in puddles of cold muddy water. Ugh. My socks were totally wet for the whole day.

The sky was a bilious mixture of noxious grey and toxic reds. The rising sun created a brilliant flaming red that made it seem like the sky was burning. The bright and dark sky highlighted the silhouette of the trees, creating a high contrast picture of a post-apocalyptic world, dark shapes of soldiers scurrying around, preparing for a battle in a series of neverending battles in a long protracted war.

Returned home at 1 plus last night, booked out at 12am. =.= Had lunch with Eliza today, then off to val's place. I alighted at the wrong place because of misintepreted instructions. =\ BBQ was ok I guess. Mugalos in the BBQ pit doing the work, Uni people in the living room, TKD people in her room. Happy Birthday val! Sorry I didn't get you anything. =X

He lay on his back, watching the sky. The leaves on the trees gently swayed in an overhead breeze that didn't reach the ground. Little birds swooped and darted around, symbols of freedom. The sky was a clear brilliant blue,and white puffy clouds drifted across the sky. He was smelly, dirty and sweaty. He hadn't bathed in 4 days. His wet clothes were slowly drying in a sure to stink method. It amused him how the world could be both beautiful and disgusting at the same time.

"Hullo zero-zero, this is delta one-six, we are hopelessly lost and have no way of knowing our location, please advise, over."

-Intercepted radio message from the other half of my section, lost during Exercise Gypsy 2

This was quite a week, but surprisingly not too bad. Got some rashes from the Gypsy exercises. =\ Field camp will be next week. Next two weeks will be really up-tempo, so I'm praying for the best. After that, things will start to slow down a little. Against my hopes, I realise I'm an excellent urban navigator, but I can't navigate for nuts in a jungle. But give me a manmade landmark, and I'm there. Guess the maze of Taiwanese streets and alleyways are no match for Lower Mandai.

This week has been alright, though tiring. next week will be worse. Exercises coming up and 5BX in my long 4. For the uninitiated, long 4 means the thick long-sleeved camouflage uniforms we have. Sigh. Went to play bowling today. Was alright. Met Yvonne, Alvin, and Derrick. They didn't tell us they were playing. =.=

Later went to PS to get tickets for 2350 Hellboy. Watched with YM, Shawn, and the twins. Slept for the last part because I was tired (past my NS bedtime =[ ) and I'd already watched it on my last nights out. Tomorrow, will be getting back my fixed PSP from ben OMGTHANKYOUSOMUCHYAY! and maybe renting DVDs to watch. =\

It was hot. Flies buzzed around, and grasshoppers hopped about on their uniforms. The group of about 174 trainees sat in the ankle-high grass, watching the live demonstration of the firing of the MATADOR sub-calibre, a light anti-tank weapon. With quiet anticipation, they waited for the climax of the demonstration. This was the first time most of them had seen a weapons demonstration of this calibre.

"Now, when I give the command, you will fire the MATADOR," blared the warrant officer through the loud hailer.

"Bay 3, straight ahead!"

"Straight ahead!" echoed the sergeant.

"300 metres!"

"300!"

"Stationary tank!"

"Seen!"

"Fire!"

-Click!-
Pause. Akward silence.

Across the grass and amidst the baking midday heat, 3 words floated across to the trainees' ears.

"Chao chee bye..."

OMG it works! It works! The internet here is pretty screwed up. So screwed that I have seen an instance of Mozilla Firefox performing lousier than IE. Amazing. Where FF cannot even connect to any site at all, IE works fine. Like wtf? Retarded. Anyways, had quite a bit of extra time today, so we're all slacking now. The company ordered pizza. Dunno when it's coming.

Well, the program was changed, so no 6k run in the morning, but there was still a 4k run in the afternoon. =[ Still got plenty of tests to finish. Just wanna get rid of them all. Most likely a nights out tomorrow, but most liekly I may not be able to go.

One thing about here is that time seems a LOT longer, for some reason. I also end up missing my friends more. That coupled with the less regular outings makes it seem as though I haven't seen my friends in a very long time. I wish we could go back to before (sighs), but things are changing. Seems that the fears voiced before my enlistment are being realized.

Despite all the people around me, and the fact that my section is one of the funniest bunch of slackers, life here seems increasingly solitary. No answered or returned calls, or replied messages. Even if you're busy, surely once in a while you could just at least reply one sms ot return a call? Its like we haven't talked in so long, and our circumstances only make the situation worse.

Basically when I run, I've got nothing to occupy my mind and all these thoughts come flooding out to poison my mind. And let me tell you it's not very motivating. For any burst of speed, instead of thinking of people out there who support me, I think that I am all alone here forgotten, and all my friends have deserted me so I can just run until I just collapse or something because nobody gives a fuck about me out there anymore.

Or maybe it's a mid-NS crisis. midlife crisis in an NS context. Being stuck here and forced to live such a live, initially I can adapt, but for such an extended period of time, I'm starting to be unable to take it after a while. Or maybe it's my perspective. Am I asking for too much attention? It all seems very long to me, but in "outside" time, maybe it's only been what? a week or so? I don't know. Maybe someone with an "outside" perspective can help me on this?

Because all I'm getting are unanswered calls and unreplied messsages, and it seems like everyone out there knows something I don't. What is it? What did I do? And why? Maybe I'm being too sensitive. Maybe I'm thinking too much. I only know all I want to do is to talk to my friends, to interact with them, and I'm unable to do that. And being "inside" is simply screwing up my perspective. Just pull me out, open my eyes, and let me see. What exactly is happening here? Becuase I don't know myself.

Hello folks, I'm back. Got to use the com again, surprisingly. Anyway, we got another nights out. But because I failed (=.=) my IPPT, so I had to stay in. So all I did was to slack and wait to use the com. Today was ok. Only lectures and learnt some new stuff. Tomorrow will be a killer. Friggin 5BX in vest and slacks and a 6k run. Considering I fell behind during the last 4k run in this attire, I predict I may expire during this. Ha-ha. Time to say your last goodbyes? Grab your chance now!

0457

K rubbed his eyes. It was 5AM. He had had 5 and a half hours of sleep the night before. He stared at his grimy, oil-stained hands, reminders of yesterday's training with the Section Automatic Weapon (SAW) that he couldn't fully wash off. The black stains were stuck in the furrows of his palms, clearly defining the unique whorls of his fingerprints.

The SAW was a nasty piece of metal. Utilitarian, but also capable of spitting out death at a rate of 400-600 rounds per minute. It also happened to be a bitch to strip and assemble, but within an hour's practice, he could do both in 85 seconds. There would be more killing machines to learn in the days to come.

Running his hand through his (now slightly longer) hair, he looked at the clock. It was getting late. The other companies had not even woken yet. He sighed and began to put on his boots.
---

Back again once more. Had sports day today, so I came back only in the afternoon. Taking a cab from Jurong Point back is a killer. I'll stick with the MRT next time. Anyway I failed my friggin' IPPT because the sgt said I "kicked" when I did not, but my legs just went forward 20-30 degrees max. =.= F-ed up. So no count. There go my next few Saturdays. Burnt.

I got guard duty on Wed, and only grabbed 3 hours of sleep that night before heading out for training the next day. Thankfully I stayed up overnight so many times before. My section mates were all surprised to see me up there crawling all over Peng Kang hill with them, but what to do? It was a test. Everyone crashed out on Fri night. Totally slept till the last minute before leaping out of bed and rushing down.

Oh yeah, I had one nights out after the one I missed due to guard duty. Watched Hancock with my section mates before going back. At least we got to relax a bit.

0527

Crump crump crump crump...

The sound of hundreds of boots pounding the ground drilled through the fog of sleep. In addition to weariness, there was another new feeling. Hunger. His stomach cried out to be fed, but there was nothing he could do for it at the moment. He felt that he could go to sleep s soon as he closed his eyes.

All he saw was the grey of PT (Physical Training) vests and the mottled green, brown, and black of their camouflage no. 4 pants. All he wanted to do was sleep. As they ran under the sickly orange glow of the streetlamps, the picture changed to an Impressionist* painting of flailing limbs, jerky light and movement. Then, they were back at the company. And the usual ritual of sweating and shouting began.
---

* Before I wrote this I had no idea what an Impressionist painting should look like. I somehow knew it was the correct word. After verifying the term during Wikipedia:

Characteristics of Impressionist painting include visible brush strokes, open composition, emphasis on light in its changing qualities (often accentuating the effects of the passage of time), ordinary subject matter, the inclusion of movement as a crucial element of human perception and experience, and unusual visual angles.

This was quite accurate. Lol. Moving on, I also came across this nice short story posted on my friend's blog. It is entitled "Poor me, lucky them", and was written by an English monk. I find it very meaningful, and I see the point it is getting across. Strikes a chord with me.

"Life as a very junior monk in Thailand seemed so unfair. The senior monks received the best food, sat on the softest cushions and never had to push wheelbarrows. Whereas my one meal of the day was disgusting; I had to sit for long hours in ceremonies on the hard concrete floor (which was lumpy as well, because the villagers were hopeless at laying concrete); and sometimes I had to labour very hard. Poor me, lucky them.

I spent long, unpleasant hours justifying my complaints to myself. The senior monks were probably so enlightened that delicious food would be wasted on them, therefore I should get the best food. The senior monks had been sitting cross-legged on hard floors for years and were used to it, therefore I should get the soft cushions. Moreover, the senior monks were all fat anyway, from eating the best food, so had ""natural upholstery" to their butts. The senior monks just told us junior monks to do the work, and never labouring themselves, so how could they appreciate how hot and tiring pushing wheelbarrows was? The projects were all their ideas anyway, so they should do the work! Poor me, lucky them.

When I became a senior monk, then I ate the best food, sat on a soft cushion and did little physical work. However, I caught myself envying the junior monks. They didn't have to give all the public talks, didn't listen to people's problems all day, and didn't spend hours on administration. They had no responsibilities and so much time for themselves. I heard myself saying, "Poor me, lucky them!"

I soon figured out what was going on. Junior monks have "junior monk sufferings". Senior monks have "senior monks sufferings". When I became a senior monk, I was just exchanging one form of suffering for another form of suffering.

It is precisely the same for single people who envy those who are married, and for married people who envy those who are single. As we all know by now, when we get married, we are only exchanging "single person suffering" for "married person's suffering". Then when we get divorced, we are only exchanging "married person's suffering" for "single person's suffering". Poor me, lucky them.

[sniped for brevity.]

To think that you will be happy by becoming something else is delusion. Becoming something else just exchanges one form of suffering for another form of suffering. But when you are content with who you are now, junior or senior, married or single, then you are free of suffering.

Lucky me, poor them!"

-Ajahn Brahm

And therein lies the beauty of the whole darned thing. Its a elegant answer to face life's difficulties. Surprising that such a simple solution has to be phrased as such for me, (and maybe a lot others) to finally see it. Instead of the haves and the have-nots, maybe people are just the have-this and have-thats.