I was supposed to go into a long long description of the pains and horrors of field camp. But after this stupid computer crashed a few times and I lost the previous few drafts, I have decided to cut short.. just put it this way: field camp made the first 2 weeks of confinement seem like sipping a cup of diluted lemon tea without the lemon. Go figure. I'm just too pooped to give a war cry of victory or something like that.

As evil as I might seem to be, I'm glad this field camp exposed what an imbecile my dear loser buddy was. Platoon 3 thought I was kidding ya? Think again guys.. he went to Tekong by himself on a ferry, causing the whole platoon to wait 20 mins for him. When we reached he was in his underpants rummaging about as usual.. and he was the last to leave for night lecture.. there was this moment on the second night of field camp where there was a crowd around my tent, looking with round thunderstruck eyes at him packing his stuff with totally inhuman slow reactions.. something like watching a documentary of some freak of nature. I was laughing my guts out in the dark =)

The first week of the last two is not worthy of mention. The second could take a while.. just in case I forgot what happened, I kept some sort of a journal, but as usual I'm too lazy to take it out. So I'll have to rely on my weak, exhausted memory bank, if there's anything left at all.

K.. the camp got off to the worst start possible. Having tired ourselves out after another long, pointless road march, we had to build a bashar almost immediately.. as usual it was a Jx-one-man-show. At least that loser didn't get in my way nearly so much.. Jeff and Jinni were struggling with their own tents, and only came later to help. Can you imagine marching 8 km with a 15 kg load, an SBO and a solid rifle banging against you? Then sitting in the scorching sun doing another energy-consuming exercise? It pretty much killed me, and the rest of my section mates as well.. the first week wasn't exactly a bed of roses; we were all stiff and sore. After fixing up the pieces of groundsheet, we then had to dig a ankle-deep trench, just in case it rained.. if I'm not wrong, Meng dug roughly 1/20 of the trench, and that was because Platoon Sergeant Suhaimi and Sergeant Samuel were glaring at him..

So much for improvement.

The art of measuring range and judging distances was a hint of things to come. S Samuel was proving to be the sergeant we dreamt and hoped he was.. using his own logic to analyse things, and his refreshing way of inculcating swear words into normal-everyday language, we learnt more than we did under the other sergeants.. no offence, S Kenneth and S Derrick are both extremely nice cordial people, and PS Suhaimi is a rock with something softer inside. But seriously, we never learnt things so fast.. Guess what? Meng screwed up.

The 3 days and 2 nights sleeping in the bashar enacted by bashar sticks were torture.. it was lucky that fag had guard duty one night or I would have died, or worse still reported sick. Rifle drills, boring IFT (Individual Fieldcraft Training, or something like that) and the frequent pumpings.. haiz. The weather was consistent; not a sniff of cloud in the sky. Everyone's morale was dead low, except for Andrew's I think.. no offence, but I don't take to him as much as my other section mates or platoon mates do. I just don't like friendly people, or guys who try overtly to help and please.. I know he might be sincere and all that crap. But I just feel uneasy ya? Those who don't agree with me can go screw yourselves.

By the way, the rifle got more and more bothersome as the days went on..you even have to hug in while shitting in a shit hole, and shitting in hole is hard enough, especially in the dark. I got my dear M16 stolen close to the end.. and it was a bad experience. That stupid piece of metal gave me a lump on my back for my troubles too..

Moving camp after 3 days was another exhausting experience.. luckily the second type of bashar was easier to build. One long rope shared by two sets of buddies.. if only one set I would have collapsed on the spot.. as usual I tried tying the groundsheet myself, with PS and S Samuel looking at that weakling.. I was busy tying the rope, but I heard some part of what they were saying, and it was rather spastic:

Samuel: *looking at Meng and rolling his eyes at Suhaimi*

Suhaimi: "Hey Meng, you ever heard this song?

Meng: *stares blankly*

Suhaimi: *hums a tune*

Meng: *stares blankly*

Samuel: "That was Ducktales you ****..."

Suhaimi: "Okay, lets try again.. did ya know Donald Duck has three nephews called Huey Dewey anbd Louie?"

Meng: "Huh?"

Samuel: *looks flabbergasted*

~

I mean, what was that all about?

In advertisements and posters, they showing NS men crouching down in the grass, looking menacing with grass sticking out of their ears and nostrils.. I assure you its not nice at all. Especially if you land in a mimosa patch. Or an anthill.. I was proning down on the third day, and ants the size of a fully extended staple bullet were biting my hands.. I told S Samuel and he asked if I wanted to call the police. Seriously embarassing.. but come to think of it, if anyone say my hands now, they'll think I've been trying to commit suicide. Permanent scars man. As usual, Mr Dumbass cocked up. Not enough camou, not enough paint and a sucky attitude to boot.. yea, he got confinement. The first in our platoon. And he farking well deserves it.

The movement drills were hilarious.. and it got more exciting with the addition of blanks. Bullets which are minimal in attack but can still hurt, and they make live rounds sounds. I think I managed it pretty well, but thats because my team consisted of the solid Fariq and ever-dependable Jeff.. You should have seen Andrew's face after every excercise; the strain and effort in forcing his frustrations down. And he really thought he could change Meng.. I'm a sadist. Seriously. After Meng got up, citing his broken specs as a reason, he accidently fired a round at poor Andrew.. what a loser. Deny it somemore, even when we all scolded him. Then during the test for danger crossing, Andrew made all sort of funny sounds to get his attention in order to cross the danger point, but Meng ignored him lol.. S Samuel went red in the face sia... Jinni said he fell asleep in the grass waiting for his turn. If you saw his dulan face, its understandable why Bong took over in their group. I thank heaven for changing groups, which probably explains why I passed finally with no frills.

In fact I got top marks for the range tests =) but I think PS gave me generous marks.. he was talking to me the other day when I told him I was stressed. Told me that army was the place where you get to know many different people, and while it was fine to mix around with people of the same frequency, we need to associate and adapt to new people and surroundings.. and also to build up on my confidence. I couldn't help but feel relieved when he told me he knew I was doing my very best, and that he respected me for that.

PS is a nice guy. Thats why I want to win his respect. Felt so down when I lost my rifle, and it wasn't the punishment I was afraid of. It was the fact that I screwed up again, after promising to do better.. can't believe I actually sought respite from Andrew and Joshua, but I won't show weakness again.

I'm a racist generally.. and I still am. I'll just pretend PS is yellow or something.

There are many incidents along the way, including the super tiring day 6 digging trench.. dug a coffin- sized hole and it turned out to be full of crickets.. And the farking BIC. My back was injured, and I was caught by S Samuel in the process of chao kenging.. But seriously, crawling for some hundred metres is hell man. Especially when there are live rounds swishing pass your ears.. we cleared it without any major cock ups, but Meng took 30 mins lol.. wonder what he was doing there.. but why should I ask? I would have given a slight damn last time, but now he's not my problem anymore.

Who in his right mind will actually call Mam a warren officer anyway? In his whiny voice, he sounds like some retarded asshole.

When we were marching back, S Samuel gave us his version of que sara sara.. goes like this:

When I was just a chao recruit
I asked my sergeant
What would I be
Would I be PC
Would I be OC
Here's what he said to me

C C B recruit
You think you very funny
This is not your father's army
Knock it down for me

When I passed out of OCS
I saw my sergeant
He said to me
Good morning sir
How are you sir
Here's what I said to him

C C B sergeant
You think you very funny
I remember you tekan me
Do double for me

.. laugh until I cannot sing properly.

Cheers to platoon 4 for their new PS.. I feel the pain guys; he's a bastard through and through. Whoever heard of 3 guard duties for each individual recruit? You enjoyed your lives for a few weeks anyway. Lucky our sergeants are nice.

Messaging her since I got back from camp.. thats not normal. Something is very wrong, and I feel uneasy. Too cold not good; too friendly I scared.. I'm a man now damnit, and I'm still so humji. I never thought I'll talk to her like I talk to my close female friends; always treated her as someone special. Yet now it seems..

Hopefully I can tie up the loose ends later.. nap time for now.