Whilst clutching my civilian bag and gleefully exiting safti for a long (and well-deserved) weekend, i saw old pal liqian. was nice to have that 5 min talk, n we caught up as much as could. he did go for a cruise to some country for a holiday and *gasp* for shopping. damn wished we could talk more. that aside, next week would see the closure of my service term b4 i head onto professional term as a senior cadet. what an insane 14 weeks its been...
And with the ever-cliched blink of an eye, service term is about to come to a close. A rollercoaster of emotional surges, a constant yet valiant battle against the mighty Z-monster and last but not the least definitely, our very first nights out. It saw my bosom buddy and ex-roommate, OCT Joses, taking his leave from the officer cadet’s course due to a pertaining back injury. Such was the painful lesson on how fragile and susceptible we are to the limits of our physique, and I cannot help but wonder when another one of us would fall prey to such a cruel twist of fate. I reminisce about the times in tri service term when we would confide in each other, share our kitchenette food and run ET runs together. With a hardened heart, I blink these scenes away, and life still goes on. Time, in all its chronological apathy, waits for no soldier.
I then take a step into the great unknown. Service term for me, was analogous to that of secondary school, a growing up process where friends come and go. The SISPEC crossovers were very much welcomed, for a plethora of reasons. Bravo wing, for a start, is badly understaffed, and prior to the crossover period, our wing strength merely constituted that of a platoon, and with basic mathematical calculations, we were executing three times equivalent of area cleaning and weapon maintenance and instructor tekans. I was indeed grateful for every new fresh pair of hands that arrived on deck. It was a totally new wing when the crossovers entered and for once we could boast of a true Bravo wing size on the parade square.
As for the physical intensity, I would be lying to say it was not tough. I still remember the 4 field camps week after week, where we would don our full battle order and troop out to the respective camp sites for the outfield training. the pain of digging trenches for 17 hours without sleep were beautifully ugly, and having to semula the entire exercise all over was just too painfully endearing an exercise to repeat. charging up knolls with casualties and a GPMG made me breathless literally, but breathless would be too cheap a word for the paranomic view atop .85 knoll. captivating in all instances, especially at night. but something i noted was for instance, the impracticality of certain training drills. the juggle of both realism and safety was something to take note of, yet there had to be a balance between both without infringing on either equality of the equation. hmm...
In a nutshell, service term would be a nursery for me as I embark on the course. the road ahead isn’t exactly a bed of roses, neither would it be smooth flowing. I take heed in the advice my instructors have given to me, as well as the friendships I have forged since coming to Bravo wing. With that said, professional term beckons. An unchartered path, an arduous route ahead with many responsibilites as a senior cadet and as a battle-hardened soldier. And as the army tune goes, ‘because we want (our land) to be free’, i will take heed and survive the next 6 months. With support from my family and friends, perhaps, we will all stand together, beaming with pride, on the parade square during the commissioning parade come 11th of March.
And with the ever-cliched blink of an eye, service term is about to come to a close. A rollercoaster of emotional surges, a constant yet valiant battle against the mighty Z-monster and last but not the least definitely, our very first nights out. It saw my bosom buddy and ex-roommate, OCT Joses, taking his leave from the officer cadet’s course due to a pertaining back injury. Such was the painful lesson on how fragile and susceptible we are to the limits of our physique, and I cannot help but wonder when another one of us would fall prey to such a cruel twist of fate. I reminisce about the times in tri service term when we would confide in each other, share our kitchenette food and run ET runs together. With a hardened heart, I blink these scenes away, and life still goes on. Time, in all its chronological apathy, waits for no soldier.
I then take a step into the great unknown. Service term for me, was analogous to that of secondary school, a growing up process where friends come and go. The SISPEC crossovers were very much welcomed, for a plethora of reasons. Bravo wing, for a start, is badly understaffed, and prior to the crossover period, our wing strength merely constituted that of a platoon, and with basic mathematical calculations, we were executing three times equivalent of area cleaning and weapon maintenance and instructor tekans. I was indeed grateful for every new fresh pair of hands that arrived on deck. It was a totally new wing when the crossovers entered and for once we could boast of a true Bravo wing size on the parade square.
As for the physical intensity, I would be lying to say it was not tough. I still remember the 4 field camps week after week, where we would don our full battle order and troop out to the respective camp sites for the outfield training. the pain of digging trenches for 17 hours without sleep were beautifully ugly, and having to semula the entire exercise all over was just too painfully endearing an exercise to repeat. charging up knolls with casualties and a GPMG made me breathless literally, but breathless would be too cheap a word for the paranomic view atop .85 knoll. captivating in all instances, especially at night. but something i noted was for instance, the impracticality of certain training drills. the juggle of both realism and safety was something to take note of, yet there had to be a balance between both without infringing on either equality of the equation. hmm...
In a nutshell, service term would be a nursery for me as I embark on the course. the road ahead isn’t exactly a bed of roses, neither would it be smooth flowing. I take heed in the advice my instructors have given to me, as well as the friendships I have forged since coming to Bravo wing. With that said, professional term beckons. An unchartered path, an arduous route ahead with many responsibilites as a senior cadet and as a battle-hardened soldier. And as the army tune goes, ‘because we want (our land) to be free’, i will take heed and survive the next 6 months. With support from my family and friends, perhaps, we will all stand together, beaming with pride, on the parade square during the commissioning parade come 11th of March.
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