Virtus pubertas

virtus pubertas ~~





Manhood is something most friends would not expect me to talk about. I have always avoided the topic it makes me feel embarrassed and awkward. More importantly, the very topic of it signifies change and the end of the very childhood I long to hold on too. Close friends may notice how I never referred myself to as a 'man', the very idea of it made me shirk. I prefer to called a 'guy' and perhaps for that reason, I refused to learn driving. I probably saw it as an acknowledgement to my own independence.
Most people and teenages would welcome this idea with open arms. Freedom and the pride of self-reliance seems so splendid to embrace. I, however, have always seen these "privileges" to come at the cost of responsibility. If one is to lift his own life and perhaps the lives of others, he must be ready for the cost of responsibilities of these implications. I knew that I was never ready and so I never even took the symbolic first step of learning to drive. Ridiculous eh?

But... things have been changing. In Delta, I am being treated like a man. We are given responsibilities to take care of and tasks to fulfil above our basic duties. I finally see it now; how we are no longer recruits scrapping to get by our sargents undetected. I am expected to fulfil all of my tasks and duties with quality and intensity. I am not ordered to but expected to. They are training me to be a man.
Maybe this is why I have been contemplating many things I never did before. Money, future, family, future livehood..... future family.
These thoughts did not come in small ripples, they overwhelmed me in a sudden sweep when I realised I am 19 years old. I am 19 years old, I have not taken allowances from my parents for 4 months. I have a job. I have expectations.
In case you are wondering why there is a picture of a gun on top. Its a GPMG, General Purpose Machine Gun. It has a calibre of 7.62 mm,weighing 11.4 kg by itself , 22.2 kg with the tripod, 32.1kg with everything in the picture (feeding box of 250 rounds).
Few years ago in Delta, a cadet was checking clear his GPMG in a training shack prior to live firing. Negligently, he squeezed the trigger without doing the SOP clearing of arms. One round was fired straight into his friend 3 metres in front of him. The round entered his friends stomach, richochet his ribs internally and exited the body through the neck. Things has never been the same again.
Last week my section instructor appointed me the MG gunner probably as a joke. Nevertheless it got me thinking, am I ready to take on such a task a responsibility, especially as my service terms begins to close? I am ready to ensure I can take care of myself, the rifle and everyone else within the rifle's firing range of 3,700 metres? As my friends (who were also arrowed into the MG team) continued to joke about being in the team, my instructor asked me if I am really fine with it.

I smiled but I didnt really give a proper answer. I was not afraid of the rifle or the load. I was afraid of the responsibilities it came with.
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virtus pubertas ~~

Clean Fatigue

It is amazing how certain individuals can loudly criticise the whole world with the disillusion that their feedbacks are appreciated and/or that they are actually not hated by everyone popular.

Sigh. Its weird how Army is supposed to make you a man but it often has the opposite effect. People cower away from reality, drowning their denial in complaints. They build their whimpsical future of fantasy in a mind of their own.
"I'm going to get out of this dirt joint. Infantry is bed rock and there is nooo way I'm staying."
"same! I confirm go support arms. My grades are quite good and I put infantry as my last choice"
"Think I can make it to signals? I heard everyone put it as their first choice... think they needed more signals right? I got computer background... so should be alright right?"
"F__K la. Just get out of ___ wing and I'm fine. I hate it here"


Sometimes... I just want to go up to him and burst his bubble.
1) who ask you to sign up for a military scholarship you cant achieve. You'er stuck in infantry for the assessment and you'll stay in infantry for failing
2) You want to go support arms? Pass SOC first. One try left. You cant even carry a SAW without struggling
3) Stop dreaming about leaving infantry. Its not like other arms are easier.
4)What makes you think you can even make it as an officer?
5) this isn't related but noone likes you. you are bottom for peer appraisal. stop acting like a happening socialite. You are just a wet blanket

Great week just had to end like with disgusting people

Chants

SOC Chant:
"Soc is fun, soc is good.
Soc is great, for me and you"

Running Chant:
"book out - arti, arti
Book out- book out -arti arti"

Booking Out Chant:
"Don't see me
in PT kit"

I Rather Dance With You

I took a photo for you end of last year in Bintan.
It was a yellow leaf shaped like a heart in the middle of a sea of green.
I wanted to give it you with tune of 'I Rather Dance with you'
But I lost my hard drive and all my photos.
I took a photo for you last week in Tekong.
Its a swaying Cyalume stick of green in the middle of a dark night.
I Rather Dance with you than talk with you. :-)

CDO

The PA chimes:
"Attention Delta Wing,
this is the CDO speaking.
The time now is 2310, Lights out. Please rest your legs, you'll need them tommorrow."
I hear my Company Duty Sergant snicker (CDS) behind before he goes up for his shower.
I go through the files once more before refolding my uniform for next day. Slowly, I reopen my Jarhead novel and read for the rest of my admin time.

It was the cadets' nights out. I couldn't join them though. CDO- Company Duty Officer. Great I thought, deprived of another 4 hours of civilisation. Despite this, I enjoy doing this regimental duty. Although many say the administrative duties are stressful, I enjoy the short 24 hours you get to break from the normal routine of orders.
Disconnection from standing in file, marching in a platoon. 24 hours of specialised duties.
I watched the crowds happily book out and I am happy to have those few hours to myself. Its rest, no worries about rushing out, catching the shortest movie available, eating the best food around and rushing back. Rest is something I need.

Life is great so far. I have recovered and I am enjoying training. I enjoy the sweat, the rush, the mud and the fatigue. This place is great for me but sometimes... things just happen. I wish I could speak them out but there are somethings that just shouldnt be said. Things that shouldn't be said or even considered as problems. But I am tired by them. I am tired by their implications on me, their burden and mostly their secrecy.
I used to think Sarcasm is the greatest way to tell the most brutal messages in the most honest way. Sarcasm can't even be applied now because everyone can read through my worn-out facade.
My patience, tolerance and self has never been so strained before and its ironically not caused by what the institute deems as stress. I feel my character and morals are being challenged by the circumstances of situation. Sometimes I don't even know if I should just let go of myself and scream. Maybe that might just wake you up.

Hiatus -- Beauty and Pain

Hi peeps. Its been a while. I'm back from my unofficial hiatus-blogging break. Its weird, how I just stopped. It wasn't because I didnt want to blog, I didnt have time or because I didnt want to express myself. In fact, I really wanted to shout out thoughts and emotions I had. Ironically, I just could not do so]. But after 7 days in the raw jungles of P.Tekong, I finally cleared out the clots in my head.
Yessum, I am back. :)
My time... Has been trying and full of trials. It has not been an easy journey and i have had more than my fair shares of confusion and lows. Under-performing in IPPT, sprained ankle after falling in the night, twisted arm, awkwardness,contemplations of signing on, fever attack, buddy of different frequency, just a few of the personal challenges i had. My time in Delta wing has just begun. I still have 5 sixths more to go. Challenges.
But I shall not talk about challenges. I feel more fascinated by memory. In BMT I recall, I survived my ninja experience through psyching: Seeing pain as beauty, torture as welfare and admiring the thin silver lining in every situation. Few months on, and I return to the same spot ninja has its field camp. Now I see the reverse: Beauty as Pain.
Look at the lovely buildings, the FIBUA training blocks, the sun-basked roads and lush green vegetations, the stars-filled night. Beautiful right? Now reflect- how I leopared crawled through the rough road, how I did my artillery drills along in the vegetations. How I did strained my back during the march under the stars. Do you now remember and see beauty as pain? They're both interconnected to the extent its ironic.
During my fever attack, I went back to the Tekong Medical centre and saw many many many friends now in BMT. Many now in Ninja. I hope you would soon share my experience and hold on through the training that lies ahead.
"Duty, Honour, Country-- Ninja Company"
"To lead, To Excel, To Overcome"

As my PC (Platoon Commander) briefed before the commencement of Exercise Wildboar, the 2-day Finale of our camp.
"You may think its over, but its not. Its not even the beginning of the end. But you may say that it is the end of the beginning."

 

Camp Break

 

 

MOVE!

 

Sluggish Breakfast

 

Sluggish Breakfast

 

Sluggish Breakfast

 

Night Camp

Fever strikes. I stay 

 

Farkuarwhee Tribe

Friends would know what I mean... :) 

 

 

 

 

 

Advance Party