Below is an adaption of something that I had to write for my reflections on NS; one that had to be submitted to my sergeants - it was written post field-camp (and posted even later, 2 late weeks to be precise), because honestly, I'm sure you'll agree with me that writing in a dark and dank place isn't exactly a breeze, and as for the latter part, we all get lazy sometimes. Regardless, here it is:

The army has always been presented as an entity that promotes camaraderie between men - especially when these same few individuals undergo hardships together, but truth be told, I have yet to fully enjoy the degree of support that such a spirit promises, and it is probably due to my rather introverted nature. Up till my encounter with something that is known as Field Camp, my degree of perseverance and strength (in overcoming a situation that I'd rather not be in) was not drawn from this camaraderie, rather, it came primarily from two sources - myself, and then my faith in God. To go through 3 weeks of separation from one's loved ones, and week after week of physical and mental stresses almost entirely alone is most definitely a difficult and painful thing to endure. Faith in the divine is one thing, but being human is also being fallible, and I won't deny that there were times when the task felt too gargantuan for me to handle, with or without the assistance of God, though oddly enough; I always do manage to pull through at the end. But I digress, at least partially. What I meant to say was that however irrelevant I find the notion of jungle warfare in Singapore to be (especially since Singapore wouldn't attack Malaysia based on its current foreign policy), Field Camp was in retrospect a chance that God seized to reveal to me His grace and guidance.

I won't deny that things in Field Camp were very much out of my comfort zone - an insane amount of mud, bugs, the lack of proper hygiene and rest. Nevertheless, I think that I can safely say (with much surprise) that I managed to cope with it. I suppose it was partially due to the lack of choice, but I also believe that the fact that Bronco is considered a 'welfare' company played a part, the latter in my opinion is a demonstration of God's grace and work in my life.

The first and second day of Field Camp were largely similar: we slept in basha tents (albeit poorly - the ground was both uneven and hard, plus we had to constantly guard the cumbersome thing that is our rifle), played pretend war (pardon the sarcasm here) and ate out of field ration packets. It was not exactly the greatest fun that I had; we were rushed around like mad, made to , but it was equally unremarkable, and it passed relatively quickly - and I am thankful for that. The third day, unlike the previous two, was significantly different.

Arguably, the most arduous portion of Field Camp is on day 3 - digging one's shell-scrape ('Every Singaporean Son' most definitely revealed quite a fair bit of what to expect). One rifle's length wide, and 2 rifle's length long, deep enough for one's field pack, and undoubtedly a lot of soil to remove. The start actually began quite well for me - I was optimistic, it wasn't too hot in the morning, and I thought it would actually be a rather interesting experience. Everything except for the latter held true. There was nothing much to be optimistic about - it took longer than expected to dig, the soil was a pain to get out of the hole and getting the appropriate depth is one mean feat. But beyond shell-scrape, the other defining portion of day 3 was something that was expected, again because of what friends say, and the reality-drama 'Every Singaporean Son' - the receiving of letters from one's parents at the lowest point of the day. Hence, the expectation to tear at that moment was also there - I never thought I'd tear over something that was pre-planned and anticipated, but I did. And here's why: It was at that point that everything raced through my head: the immense amount of support my parents have for me, the blessing of being in Bronco (one that is quite focused on our welfare, rather than mere facades of gungho-ism and bravado). One could even say that I wept - tears flowed, as the commanders were talking about the importance of defense, because I was questioning God on why He was bent on making use of such moments to show His mercies and grace. Regardless on how they were shown, I felt particularly reminded about them during that particular moment of Field Camp.

The subsequent days (4-6) were spent doing 2 tests, the Field Camp test and SIT test respectively. To be honest, my lack of interest in such a lifestyle (I can be a bit of a pacifist, the notion of warfare isn't exactly appealing to me) probably left me with little desire to bother about the day's exact happenings. However, two noteworthy things that occurred within those days stood out particularly significantly: 1. We (the company) were made to tear down our bashas in the middle of a pitch dark environment, right before we were to sleep just because of the mistakes of a few individuals, 2. The SIT test is in my opinion a poor indicator of leadership potential - and I hope that the SAF addresses this. I shall elaborate on just the former; the latter is an opinion that is shared by many others.

For the first bit: I understand that discipline is especially important in a military environment. Commanders do face a great difficulty in organizing their men - especially tired ones. Movement is slow, the area is large, and the pool of people is equally sizeable, all of which are responsible for the difficulty in not only the relaying of (potentially vital) information but also that of merely assembling a company within an indicated time. The chaos that these aspects can lead to in a real threat was made apparent during the artillery attack simulation on the third day of Field Camp - frenzied movement (as people run and trip over an assortment of things), a barrage of shouts assaulting one's ears and so on; its not hard to imagine how much worse things would be in an urban setting with civilians running amok and all. But however important discipline is, one mustn't compromise rationality and sensibility to make that point felt. Discipline, as with all values, needs to be instilled in a resolute but patient manner, not rashly. It is not hard to imagine the sea of items that got lost amidst the darkness and chaos of a company rushing to tear down their bashas in pitch darkness, and unlike what Sylvia wishes for in 'Housekeeping', there is little hope of a restoration of these lost items, only the certainty of punishment for doing so. In this instance, many in the company, including my buddy, received a Confinement for losing even the smallest of items such as a tent pin. Poor people, a weekend was lost because of a silly decision, and for the commander who called the rash decision, some lost their respect for him - quite a terrible thing to happen in the military, even if it is just BMTC.

That being said, apart from these little complaints, this Field Camp was very much a breeze, especially when it is compared to what I had expected it to be - one filled with endless punishments, ridiculous hours of hiding in bushes and more.

And I have the Lord to thank.