Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Respite

3.38pm - in little more than four hours time, I will be leaving my (physical) place of refuge, and returning to whence I came from, from whence I abhor. I was blessed to have enjoyed the past few days (24 to 29 May) in freedom, in the company of friends and family, in indulging, in having helped others. But permanence is not a fixture of reality, and that soon will end. My return to camp looms.


On a side note, I really must start keeping a separate diary for the times that I spend outside of camp - those days are the streams of life that I pant for.

Saturday, May 26, 2012

6th Week, AIT

The past few weeks have been a quite a stormy period for me, emotionally speaking; as my buddy and several others in camp have pointed out, I wore an almost perpetual grim-visage when I was in camp, and it eased away for that brief moment whenever we booked out. This week was no different, on the contrary, despite it being the last week of the AIT programme, it was arguably worse.


19.05.12 My dad's birthday fell on this day, equally coincidentally, so did the need to book in especially early (Saturday, 7pm). We had our section live shoot the following day, hence the shortened rest period - the rational side of my mind could understand the logic behind going in early, there were crucial briefings, and they had to ensure that we would get sufficient rest. Yet rationality is not a strength of the human mind - emotional impulsiveness (and arguably weakness) is. Animalistic as it may sound, we were made to feel first and foremost. That was the reason why bouts of depression/depressive behavior manifested itself as I was having dinner with my family (just before I booked into camp). I broke down at the dinner table. I teared. I wept. The sorrow, angst and burden that had been stored up within me finally broke through the thresholds, triggered by the simple fact that I couldn't (in my eyes at least) celebrate my dad's birthday the way that I wanted it to be - a handmade card for him, an entire day spent with the family. It was the first time that I actually cried at home; before doing so at the dinner table, I wept in the shower. It was the first time that I actually felt unanswered, unfulfilled and perhaps even betrayed by the God whom I love - it made me feel quite a bit like Job, whose faith was allowed to be tested by the devil; albeit my situation isn't quite as dramatic or extreme as his. He endured so much, that even his wife told him (quite verse here), yet his faith remained firm, and he continued to cry out to the Lord. That was something that I forced myself to attempt over the week - to cry out and demand from Him to grant me respite.

The prayer, to say the least, didn't feel like it worked one bit when I returned to camp. The plans for the next day made things seem even more trying - it was made known to us that my section was selected to be the 'advanced party' for the next day's live shoot. Such added burdens definitely weren't welcomed, especially not when I was feeling so particularly raw - I didn't want to have to wake up at 4am the next morning (while everyone else got up at 5.30am at the very latest), especially not when I knew very well that the day would end not at 11.59pm, but quite possibly at 3am the next morning or even later (it actually ended at 5am for my platoon - that was the time that we went to sleep).

I suppose my emotions would be quite apparent in what was in my diary (an excerpt is below):

You MUST help me overcome this state of anger, despair, depression and desperation - for You had promised an easy and light yoke. Hear me, oh God of Isaac, the one who offered Jonah rest, I beg you Lord.


20.05.12 (This was the day that I wrote my longest ever diary entry for AIT.) I woke up this particular morning feeling as though I were vulnerable and alone - I suppose the insufficient sleep was partially to blame for this. The fact that it was a Sunday, and I was stuck in an army camp didn't help either. I missed the comfort of a nice weekend breakfast, be it at home or in some cafe - either ways, it was spent with family, just as the rest of the day would be spent.

I'm only human; I do forget at times that even in the darkness, God's light shines through.

We reached the shooting area at around 7am, far earlier than the rest of the company as we had to set up things such as tents and water points. All of those were delivered in a tonner, the same ride that we shared.

Kick starting the day proper was a dry run of how the shoot would be carried out, subsequently came blanks. Up till that point, the shoot was going relatively well, perhaps with the exception of how I was told that I had to move faster (it was a fire-movement exercise, with rounds). Then it started to rain. Heavily. It started to rain as we were waiting for the live shoot to commence - that was when the angst returned: I didn't want to lie down in pools of mud, I did not want to, as how my former teacher had put it, "be one with the dirt" - I was upset that God would allow it to pour. But yet it did, and it continued long enough to ensure that ponds and pools of mud were unavoidable. But yet I tried - I am a germaphobe - despite the fact that logical thought would clearly point out its unfeasibility. In spite of my efforts, my pants were still soaked, as was my ILBV and the lower portion of my shirt. What was worse was that my attempts at dodging the puddles did not go unnoticed - the commanders facilitating took notice and got a tad bit worked up over it. Thankfully, no one blew their top over it, but honestly, the fuss that they kicked up was not unjustified - my (failed) efforts at avoiding the puddles made me significantly slower than the rest of the section (I was close to 2 bounds behind them). That being said, in my defence, that slowness also allowed me to take more accurate shots at the target - I managed to hit the target 18 times, not too shabby when one considers that the highest hits in the day was only 24.

Finishing the (really wet and muddy) day shoot, we had some time to rest - there was little that we could do but to wait for nightfall (how else would a night shoot be conducted). Besides, there were other units also sharing the same facility as us, they too had to use the grounds. At around 7pm, just after we finished our dinner, it started to rain again, heavily too, might I add. Evidently, God really wanted me to get wet and muddied, but it wasn't as if I really cared anymore - my clothes were to say the least still damp, I didn't feel clean, and above all, I did not want to actually get into trouble for being seen avoiding the puddles for a second time. The night shoot was not as smooth as the day's; during the blanks shoot, the SAW weapon that I picked up wouldn't fire well - shots were going off one at a time, and in between, constant re-cocking was necessary. Apparently, it was because the weapon's blank-attachment wasn't fixed on properly - how very dangerous. The night shoot went even worse - midways through, I broke the charging/cocking handle. I believe I was reloading the weapon. I suppose that was however the most eventful thing in the day, apart from getting wet and muddied in my nether regions.

As expected, any shoots that had a night section ended late - we finally reached camp at 2.35am, and after the rifle cleaning and RO, it was already 4.35am. Yet my platoon wasn't allowed to sleep afterwards, thanks to a select group of individuals who refused to simply get the highly redundant parade over and done with. Fidgeting around wasn't their only folly, it was being uncooperative and defiant that was. We finally retired at close to 5am after being made to wait out in the open parade square (we were the lone platoon there) - it was a terrible price to pay when one considers that the reveille timing that lay ahead was 6.45am.

God, I truly wonder why you are subjecting me to all of this. yet, I must trust that even in the darkness, Your light shines.


21.05.12 Some of the events mentioned above would have actually spilled over into section, but I chronicled it under Monday's entry, so for the sake of highlighting how long that particular day was, it would remain there.

Waking up at 6.45am was not something to laugh about, especially when one only went to bed just over an hour ago (5am), but at least, we were allowed some more rest after breakfast. Evidently, getting downstairs by 7am was necessary so as to make sure that we were fed [with breakfast], but clearly, that would mean that no one in the company would get their '7 hours of uninterrupted sleep/rest'. I had a rather weird dream during the rest that came after breakfast, it went something like this:

The living room was dark, no lights were on, and the space was illuminated solely by the television screen and light spilling out from the nearby kitchen. Colourful shapes filled the screen, apparently I was playing some sort of puzzle game on the television - something like bubble pop. Then my dad interrupts me; he was still in his office wear; I suppose he had just got home. Hurrying me, he switched off the television and reminded me that we had a celebration to attend, but not before coming out of the store room with a champagne bottle that was packaged in what seemed to be from Cartier.

And then my alarm rang, and I woke up. It was 9.20am. I went back to sleep, before getting up again 20 minutes later. Laundry had to be done (those muddied stuff from the previous day, there was no way that I would simply leave them around without at least getting rinsed), even if another 10 or so minutes of rest would have been good.

The rest of the morning was spent properly cleaning up the rifles that we had used - I had 2 to clean: the SAW that I fired, as well as my own SAR 21 (which I had assumed at first was clean because I didn't think that anyone had drawn it). We were supposed to have a grueling episode of strength training in the afternoon, but thankfully the commanders were sane enough to realise that none of us would have the strength to pull through it - what we did instead was a watered down version that was a lot more manageable than expected. Bit by bit, God was showing His grace.


22.05.12 According to the schedule that was told to us the night before, Tuesday was supposed  to have been a long and strenuous day. There was supposed to have been at the very least a 6km route march, and training for Thursday's "Skill and Arms" test (which involved an obstacle course, casualty lift for quite a distance and a 50m leopard crawl segment). But as implied by the use of italics for the word "supposed" just above, expectations for the day were unmet (this is a positive thing of course). It started off with the route march being replaced with a 2.2km cadence run - it was pleasantly (if not surprisingly) manageable. After the run, we were 'granted' a canteen break (I can't believe that we aren't entitled to it considering that we were no longer recruits), but I gave it up to see the MO - I wanted to ask about a lower back curvature that I had (I believe the medical term is lordosis, I was just wondering if it was scoliosis), and if it was anything that I should be concerned about, and implicitly, if it was something that could get me out of my duties. It was a reasonable thing to be concerned about, especially because life in the infantry would guarantee the need to carry heavy loads rather frequently (by just donning on my ILBV, I would be able to feel a lower back strain when I stood up straight, plus the ILBV has the rather magical ability to cause breathlessness). After waiting for 3 hours or so, I finally saw the MO, and received little more than some cream to alleviate muscle strains and painkillers - apparently, lower back strains/pains were a "common thing" in the SAF. I didn't get any excuse chit, not in any permutation possible, which was rather annoying considering how such chits were issued to a slew of people who entered the room just before me. I suppose that was a sign from God that trying to down-PES via a back issue isn't going to happen for me, which is why I will continue to pray for a miracle to happen - that I would get a revocation/lighter posting after this season of AIT. And then I found this verse to comfort me:

Isaiah 43:1, 3 -

But now, thus says the Lord, who created you, O Jacob,
And He who formed you, O Israel:
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by your name;
You are Mine.

For I am the Lord your God,
The Holy One of Israel, your Savior;
I gave Egypt for your ransom,
Ethiopia and Seba in your place.

I guess it just serves to remind me that while I may feel as though I were in Job's shoes, I have already been redeemed, and that the Lord is willing, and will do anything that is good for me.

That aside, the Skill & Arms training that came after lunch was basically a walk-through of the SOC grounds, so as to explore how we could clear the obstacles as a section. Rather thankfully, it wasn't too intense - the tiring part was actually walking from obstacle to obstacle under the blazing afternoon heat. Afterwards came area cleaning, followed by a really anal area inspection, where what was previously cleared (e.g. aired clothes hung inside the locker, clean clothes wrapped [neatly] in plastic bags) were suddenly deemed as a non-adherence to the standards (what standards). Whatever. At least we had a nights' out later on in the evening - our first ever.

I met up with my folks - it felt so wonderful to see them mid-week; dinner was at Changi Airport's Itacho (almost a parallel to my very first book-out), followed by a lovely hour or so spent at home resting. I truly love my parents, and I'm so blessed to have them, and to get a chance to see them on a Tuesday night.


23.05.12

Psalm 28:6 - Blessed be the Lord, because He has heard the voice of my supplications!

The week is drawing to a close, and it is just one more day to the end of AIT - but the threat of guard duty looms. I won't deny that I prayed that I'd be spared from this round of regimental duty, selfish as it may seem; I wanted to spend an entire weekend and more with my family and friends.


I had feared the day would be stressful, but I was proved wrong. Owing to the morning rain, 5BX was cancelled. Then came Mobility Training - basically, we were hoping and bopping in an assortment of manners; it was deemed an 'irregular' training by our company's staff sergeant. That was thankfully rather simple and not too physically taxing - I suppose it's due in part to the cool weather that the morning shower provided. Afterwards, it was pretty much rest time, sans the short interruption by our section commander to discuss (around a table) the 'game plan' for the Skills & Arms test on Thursday.

Apart from an interview by our Platoon Commander (PC), the afternoon was equally relaxed as the morning, post-training. From the interview, it would seem that our PC was a nice guy, smart, rational. It's just that I didn't quite like the piece of advice that he gave - to simply grin and bear with what I hated in the army; then again, he isn't the source of this advice, he's merely passing it on.

Digressing for a moment, here's my issue with the whole grinning and bearing advice (or in army lingo, "suck thumb"). It is passiveness at it's extreme (and by extension, a lack of fighting spirit). It does nothing but to reinforce a sense of helplessness - both of which contradict the whole "care for soldiers" line that is in the SAF's 7 core values, as well as the SAF's vision of thinking soldiers. Passivity and blind compliance isn't the solution to the army's problems, it's a hindrance to it's progress and aspirations.

But I've whined and digressed a little too much. At 3.45pm, our AIT debrief started, where things were summed up, and our privileges as trained riflemen were revealed - electronic devices were allowed in, we no longer had to verify short term (< 3 days) MCs immediately to name a few. They aren't exactly privileges in my eyes - these were things that we enjoyed as entitlements while we were in Tekong. Rambles aside, our first and only trial run at a casualty lift (via a stretcher) was done just after this debrief - I couldn't imagine myself helping to carry 2 filled water tanks (approximately 40kg in weight) for the 1.6km distance that was required in the test on Thursday.

After dinner, there was again another waiting session - this time due to the fact that the Muslim food wasn't ready due to a logistic mess up. Sitting in the cookhouse, I shared with my buddy a little about my depressive state. Basically, this was what I shared with him:

I feared that if I remained in this particular posting, I would become so down that I'd spiral into clinical depression - the environment and the job scope simply weren't suitable for an individual like myself. I knew very well the way to get myself out of this depressive state that would haunt me so very regularly - think positively, look forward to positive milestones, recognise the good moments of the past (and of the future). Yet not only was it difficult to get into this state of positivity, but to a certain extent, I suppose I was unwilling to do so. You see, in my mind, getting over this pain would suggest a resignation at the very least to my present situation, and in doing so, all hope of something better would be lost - that was what I feared losing: the promise of something that would be more suitable for myself.


24.05.12 Thursday proved to be a tiring day, but at the very least, there was something to look forward to - an early (5.00pm) book out from the city centre, as we were sent to attend the Army Open House.

Setting the tone for the morning's activities was the 6km route march that we did - the first 2km or so were done with our regular standard battle order (SBO), sans soft plates (they are basically pieces of padding that seem to serve no reason other than to trap heat), and the other 4 with those soft plates. As always, the start is easier than the finish - the last three kilometres or so were especially difficult; blisters were forming, my body was heating up to an inordinate degree. But it was only through God's grace that I pulled through - I didn't thrive or excel in it, but at least I survived.

Afterwards came the Skills & Arms test. Starting it off was a rifle handling test - stripping and assembling of a SAW. Just like how it was the previous time, I wasn't fast enough, but at least I tried my best (given the little practice we had prior to the test). Then came the grueling bit - the obstacle course. It wasn't as though it were easy; it was very tiring, but it felt like it flew by very quickly, something which I'm incredibly grateful for. Following that was a 50m leopard crawl, and a [dummy] grenade toss, the latter of which I was terrible at during my days in Tekong, and still remain terrible at - I believe the piece of plastic flew no further than 15m from where I was; the target was at 25m or so. And this happened after I tried to use the tossing technique that was taught to us by our commander. Oh well. The last bit was basically carrying the stretcher, along with the 40kg worth of water tanks on it back to the start point - that was truly the hardest part. I can't believe that people could run through the whole course; my section's aim was merely to complete the course - which we did, others were there to win it, their gusto and gung-ho-ism was scary.

Things were especially rushed after the debrief and prize presentation that followed the test - we had to leave by 2.30pm or so. Packing my stuff, showering and eating [out rationed] meals never seemed to have happened at such a frantic pace before. But it all slowed down after we boarded the (old and rickety) bus. Reaching the F1 Paddock area pretty much signaled our book out - my buddy and I, along with the sergeants, and most definitely quite a number of others weren't the least bit interested in the contents of the open house, and we headed for air-conditioned venues almost immediately after disembarking from the bus. Even the meet-up-point that the sergeants picked was a clear sign on where their interests lay. That was comical.


And that pretty much marks the end of my AIT journey.


Lord, I know that if anything, Your glory has shined through over the past few days, despite my spiritual and emotional weakness at the start and in bouts throughout the week. They shined in a myriad of small, but noticeable ways. While my future as a rifleman in 2SIR seems bleak and hopeless, I believe that I will be rescued soon, for You promised that those who "asked [would be] given". I thank You for this time of growth (as a family friend had put it), no matter how difficult it is, and I am reminded that I am not the only one who had to endure hardships to mature spiritually - the men of the bible did it (Job, Jonah, Moses), so did people close to myself - Lionel for one.


God, I'm waiting for you to rescue me.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Gas Station

Image Credit: Tomas Soucek & ArchDaily


There's something particularly space-age about the design of this gas station, almost as if it were pulled from the vacuum of time (from the groovy 60s) and slapped into somewhere in Slovakia. Even the red neon band that runs across the roof alludes to this (perhaps unintentionally though).


That being said, the "larch kiosk" looks really out of place, it doesn't work well with the futuristic shape of the main structure - somehow I sense the architects intended for it to be that way, but I really hate that. Oh well.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

5th Week, AIT

I don't really have any sort of introductory thing that I'd like to add about this week, so I suppose I'll just jump straight into the week's happenings.


14.05.12 The rather tragic (and avoidable) accident last week meant that all training activities ceased; my camp decided to use the time-out period to clear off the Vesak Day off-in-lieu that we were entitled to - Monday happened to be the day that they picked. Yet I was not entitled to that full additional day off; I had been selected as a reserve guard for those doing guard duty. How unfortunate of me (it seems my luck has been particularly rotten ever since I entered this particular camp) - I had to enter the camp at 1.30pm, while those free from this obligation returned only at 9pm. Equally annoying was the cold (not a flu - that implies influenza, which is a far more serious condition) that I had - it had been something that started the week before towards the end of field camp. Yet I still reported to camp, with the hope of leaving after showing my face (that was something that the commanders seemed to imply was possible during the RO on Saturday morning); I had the intention of seeing a doctor afterwards. Doing so however was a huge mistake - it left me trapped in camp for quite a few hours, apparently we were supposed to stay in not only until everyone had arrived (many arrived late, some AWOL-ed, others "reported sick"), but until the active guards left for duty, at around 4.30pm or so. It did not help that someone in camp suggested that I visited the MO at another camp instead since the one in ours wasn't in, despite my insistence that camp MOs were not to be trusted for the standards of medical care they offered (this of course is merely my opinion)- they just seemed bent on not letting me go. To cut the story short, it was only through quite a lot of haggling - the sergeant on duty said, and I quote "this guy keeps coming down every 5 minutes" (he was being a bit hyperbolic in my opinion though - I came down every 10-15 minutes), and the blessing of God (by placing a rather helpful sergeant there on that day) that I managed to leave at 3.40pm; my dad who was waiting to drop me off at CGH had to wait quite a bit. There was quite a long wait at CGH for reasons unknown, and by the time I finally left it was already 6.50pm, with free medication, and feeling a certain degree of misery because of the lost "rest". Reaching back to camp, I learned that my buddy was successful in obtaining a specialist's letter recommending a down-PES; good for him, and I won't deny that I am a tad bit envious - especially when he was recommended immediate light(er) duties. But I still hold that God will provide me with a way out after AIT.


15.05.12

Galatians 6:9 - And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.

The above verse reminds me of the lyrics in my JC's hymn, "They reap not where they laboured, we reap what they have sown". I suppose I have to remember that there is a time for everything, a time for perseverance and a time for harvest.

Tuesday was quite a restful day, given that the safety time-out was still in place. It started off with area cleaning, which like the previous occasions, saw me doing a bulk of the work. It is however heartening to see that the section mates are beginning to help. I really musn't feel self-righteous, my endeavours should be solely for the glory of God (hyperlink to the verse where Jesus said to give more than what is expected - roman soldier marching, clothes). While I had got a bag-full of medicine from the CGH doctor (cough syrup, paracetamol, flu tablets), I avoided taking too much of them (I effectively halved the dosage stipulated) because I hated the feeling of drowsiness - yes, nearly all the medicine given were stated to cause that. Thankfully however, God was working His healing power within me, and I was starting to feel better. But I digress from sharing how restful my day was. The sergeants postponed area inspection till after 10.45am (probably because they had a last minute meeting to attend), thus we got 2 hours or so for a morning nap. The OC "dialogue" (the inverted commas shows how I feel about it... it was more of a one way relaying of information than an exchange of ideas) did little more than revealing the schedule for the rest of AIT - the current week would be an arduous one (all of which would be elaborated below), and quite possibly the subsequent as well, except that we would be booking out on Thursday from the Army Open House at Marina Bay at a fixed time of 5.30pm (that in itself is a cause for celebration). After lunch was an episode of rifle cleaning - for me, there was little to do, since I had done it quite decently (if I may say so myself) the previous week in the wee hours of Saturday, and after that was yet another nap session - call it a siesta if you'd like to that lasted till 6pm.


16.05.12 Being in this camp has allowed me to experience, perhaps for the first time a certain degree of persecution because of my faith - it was the first time I've heard things like "don't preach" (just because I suggested that someone should be a tad less judgmental) and "that's why I love Christians", in response to the almost obligatory act of helping others. It doesn't really help that I'm probably the only Christian in the platoon, but I suppose I should persevere solely because of what that is stated in the verse below.

Ephesians 5:8 - For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.

That aside, the safety time-out that started last week ended our field camp's last activity prematurely - the Section Battle Course (let's just call it SBC), and because of that, we had to make up for it on this day. But before that, we did a "dry run" of the section live firing that we'll be doing this coming Sunday, using our field packs as the obstacles/bounds that we needed to go past as part of the course. I also learnt that many of my platoon, and on a more microscopic level my section mates were planning to take MCs this weekend...

The SBC was conducted at the nearby Salah (spelling) Hill; it was especially tiring, and I was weary about having to assume the role of the section's 2nd SAW once more (a fellow section mate was still not fully well), I feel really imposed upon, especially since I was merely a spare gunner, and my physical disposition made the SAW rather unwieldy for me - I don't deny that at that particular point in time, I was envious of my buddy's position: he had successfully got the MO to proceed with the down-PES procedure, and part of that included a 28 days chit for light duties. Because of the abovementioned reasons, I wasn't able to execute the required drills properly - I was literally falling behind, much like how it was during field camp, and a little like how it will be in the UO field camp that I'll be describing later. It also wasn't helped by the repeated and regular IAs that the SAW gave me - double feeding was something that occurred practically every other shot.

The day ended off with force-prep for the UO camp that came after, it took a long, long time, ending only at 10.45pm or so. I won't deny that I was weary, and I remain weary in my present situation.


17.05.12 - 18.05.12 I won't deny that I abhor any outfield activities. Thankfully though, this was a UO exercise, which meant that the amount of time spent in vegetation was limited - that however still meant that there were some. The exercise was conducted at Murai Urban Training facility, the scale of the place was quite amazing - the fact that the government dedicated so much land and resources into building a small neighbourhood for such a thing is perhaps a testament to the economic cost that the government is willing to bear for the sake of national defence. UO drills was the name of the game, and we basically spent the 2 days practicising them in group, section and platoon levels.

As with plenty of other things in the army, this was something that wore me down physically - it was an uphill battle (literally, given the terrain of the area); we had to trek through (quite) a bit of vegetation before reaching the outlying "urban" area of the mock town. Despite the weariness that I felt, I suppose it was to a lesser degree than what I felt during the earlier part of the week, or during the previous field camp. I guess that can be attributed to the fact that the weekend (and by extension the book-out) was approaching, that the exercise was far shorter (2 days), but it was I guess also due to the fact that I have always felt that jungle warfare was irrelevant in today's world, and by extension, urban exercises are far more relevant and effective.

I shalln't continue to elaborate on the UO training, because to be honest, there is little to mention other than what I have already done so. But I guess what I can say is that God is faithful. My rifle nearly got stunned twice in the 2 days - the first time because I clipped it around my belt in my sleep (apparently that isn't sufficient in this camp - I had to explain that in Tekong that was sufficient to avoid it being taken), and the 2nd time back at COY line during the second bag check, when my mind was so preoccupied with holding my bowels and helping someone else a distance away that I left the SAW aside for a brief moment. I guess I also have to thank God for the fact that the book-out was on a Friday, especially since I have to return back to camp tonight (Saturday evening) due to the section live shoot that we'll be doing tomorrow. I'm not exactly looking forward to the week ahead, nor am I feeling particularly optimistic about returning to camp with such a short period of rest outside, so I really need all the help and support I can get - divine or otherwise.


This is my prayer for the week ahead:

Job 3:17 - [In God's hands] the wicked cease from troubling, And there the weary are at rest.

Help me God, I beg and cry out to You.

Kunsthaus Bregenz


Image Credit: Flickr User mightymightymatze via ArchDaily


Peter Zumthor is truly a master at creating spaces that while architecturally seem simple and sparse, are able to evoke so much emotions within an individual; from the introspection that is encouraged through his 2011 Serpentine Gallery Pavilion, to his iconic work at Therme Vals.


I simply love how frosted glass is used here - it is a material that I find enthralling, it reveals, yet hides, and the quality of light that it allows in is simply ethereal.

Monday, May 14, 2012

4th Week, AIT

On and off (especially during the weekends), I've been relying on YouVersion for devotional materials (at this moment, I'm reading one called Holy Emotions - Biblical Responses to Every Challenge), and this particular one struck me.

Put on the garment of praise! Rather than writhe in emotional pain. put your hands in the air and sing yourself into His presence!

Its hard to put something like this into practice. But I suppose when one endures so much, undergoes such lack, one becomes so much more acutely aware of one's needs - such that the fulfilling of them brings a far richer joy than it normally would - and that is how one could possibly attempt to sing praises.


07.05.12 Just the day before, the Straits Times published an article on depression among the elderly, and that couldn't have come at a much more relevant time - yesterday was the first time that I seriously considered the possibility that I could be suffering from (mild) bouts of depressive behaviour (I hesitate to deem it anywhere near clinical depression though). Perhaps it was just Sunday book-in blues, but they never felt that acute before; the afternoon prior to returning to camp (at 7pm, which was significantly earlier than what we normally were entitled to) was spent with thoughts of throwing things around, and bashing out dissonant sounds on the piano.

But enough rambling about the pains that I experienced the night before Monday; that day itself was filled with its own trials. We got up particularly early (4.10am for me) because of the live shoot that we had on that (especially long) day - that proved difficult due to the poor sleep I had, courtesy of the constant itches in the night, the chatty individual on his cellphone, the slamming of doors and the need to pee in the middle of the night.

Our first of two shoots (we had to familiarise ourselves with handling two weapons, in my case it was the SAW and GPMG) was the GPMG one, and personally, I found the commanders (chiefly sergeants) in charge of it to be quite lacking in traits that one would normally associate with leaders. Not only did they lack the capacity to plan and organise - they were unaware of the space constraints of shooting area until they got to the place, logistics were not ready when needed; they were also petty and short tempered - most of their instructions were delivered not in a rational but assertive manner, but rather in shouts, swears and a few good knock-it-downs thrown in for good measure. One example would be the command for everyone to leave the small training shed (that they failed to take note of prior to the shoot) in 5 seconds, is it any wonder that we failed? We were punished - 70 push-ups for that; for the unavoidable pandemonium that arose from constrains of the space we were in. That aside, the earlier part of the morning was pretty much wasted due to the rain, thereby also rendering our early reveille pointless - we only started the GPMG shoot at 9.45am (gosh, I truly wished, at that point in time that those lost hours could have been translated into additional sleeping hours, in some ways it did - there were a fair bit of moments to nap between waiting). I suppose the frequent opportunities to lose sleep is part of God's plan to get my body used to the lack of sleep that will be an inseparable part of Architecture school.

The GPMG was relatively easy to handle (accuracy however is another thing), but to get to that few minutes of shooting, we had to wait for a time equivalent to the entire morning. Thankfully, the sergeants there had the common sense to send off those who were done with the GPMG shoot to the SAR shooting area - that way, it saved us some time when it was our turn to deal with the SAR weapon. Efficiency, at least some degree of it can indeed exist in the army, and it must be further promoted. Monday finally ended for us at 11.45pm, and we only reached back to camp at 12+, before sleeping at 2+. Yes, it was a long day, a long and exhausting one.


08.05.12 The night ended late, and the morning began early (6.40am for me, I wanted to call my folks - its something that I've been doing daily since BMTC) - I ended up with really few hours of sleep. I skipped some of the morning's stuff because I had some rashes that I wanted the MO to give me some cream for - I never knew that getting medical help in the army required such a long waiting time. There was the fear that it would worsen to something similar to what I had in my childhood - severe rashes that bled and oozed puss at the joints of my limbs. Quite scary indeed; rather reassuring was the MO's diagnosis (though that being said, I don't trust the medical service provided by the SAF) of it being "not very serious" and "localised". I suppose that was also a sign that down-PES-sing via a medical condition like eczema, much like what a Bronco platoon mate I met while waiting to see the MO did, would apply to me. (Its not as though I would want anything on my body to degenerate to that state however, I've been through that and it wasn't fun.) The rest of the day was spent mainly prepping for the next 3 days of Section field camp - packing our field pack, assault pack and ILBV. During the Mobility Training that came subsequently (it consisted of things like hopping and short sprints), my buddy and I were discussing whether a particular sergeant had an inferiority complex that he needed to (over) compensate for, based on how he spoke to, remarked about and reacted to the actions of different groups of recruits.


09.05.12 - 11.05.12 Section field camp was shorter than the one that I had in Tekong, but it felt far draggier and more painful to deal with - perhaps it was because my heart wasn't anywhere interested in what we were doing there: section and fire movement, being in the great outdoors, and field discipline to name a few. The fear of insufficient sleep was another - I have a terrible time sleeping in the great outdoors, waking up every hour wasn't something unusual, though that didn't make it any less annoying and torturous. Oddly enough, while the camp was shorter, I found it very physically and mentally exhausting, probably because the number of hours spent each day training was longer than the BMTC field camp, and also because I didn't excel at what was being done there. One example would highlight this perfectly: how I simply froze after experiencing an IA (basically when the weapon fails to work as it should) midways during a section movement exercise, amidst the shouting from all directions. My state of helplessness at remedying the IA (I was essentially rendered completely out of control), coupled with exhaustion from the heat and physical strains left me in a state of stoniness on the forest floor, where my sweat mixed freely with tears that were milked out of my weary body. It was a terrible state to be in, and it more than strongly reaffirmed my belief that I was not suited, and should not be in the infantry.

That was the attitude that I carried on into the last day, where we were supposed to have a test that tested our ability to work together as a section in a conflict. I really didn't want to participate in it, and particularly timely came a sore throat and a runny nose - the precursor to the (mild) cold that I'm suffering from at this present moment [of writing this post]. Yet I still was drafted to participate in it - the section commander had little choice, the other 2 members of the section simply weren't fit to participate (for differing reasons). I prayed for God to allow me to rest.

At just after 1pm, we were told that all field training was to cease, because an NS man who was training in the same area as us was involved in a serious accident. We later found out that the accident resulted in tragedy - that NSF lost his life. So yes, while I was spared training (for the camp and also the subsequent few days), it came at the expense of a human life. Sometimes, I really wonder why God would use such ways to work.

Without appearing to simply brush off addressing the above tragedy as a mere mention, we returned to camp really late - 11pm, others even later. We were the last company to reach back to our home base, and we paid the price: we were the only ones to not book out on Friday. At the time that we got back, the food out-rationed for us had expired - we were to remain hungry till about 11.30pm, when the pizzas that our company's sergeant-major had ordered for us arrived. It was extremely terrible to know that you could have left camp so much earlier (we ended everything at about 7, and were waiting there for the bus to arrive) - the bus arrived late, coupled with their refusal to enter the camp grounds (they seemed to have came to a consensus of simply waiting at the ground's main gate (a really long walk away), and the need to arrange for tonners to send us to that gate. It was awful, albeit much less than the poor NSF's fate of course. It wasn't the sergeants' fault; it was that of the bus company - did they not sign a contract, of which they had to meet it's terms and conditions? Was being punctual not one of them? Worse than waiting was the lack of information - it made waiting more agonizing, more drawn out - that is something that I fault the sergeants at, but then again, I suppose the bus company itself wasn't providing them with what they needed. I rest my case.


In this crazy parallel universe that I have to accept for 5 or more days in each week, I suppose my only source of strength should be, and can be God - I have to learn to trust in Him, to relegate control over my fate to Him and to simply believe in that divine plan laid out for my life. Help me.

Psalm 91:1-8 -

He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress;
My God, in Him I will trust."

Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler[a]
And from the perilous pestilence.
He shall cover you with His feathers,
And under His wings you shall take refuge;
His truth shall be your shield and buckler.
You shall not be afraid of the terror by night,
Nor of the arrow that flies by day,
Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness,
Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday.

A thousand may fall at your side,
And ten thousand at your right hand;
But it shall not come near you.
Only with your eyes shall you look,
And see the reward of the wicked.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Moment and Eternity

Image Credit: CityNomads


Entering the space where the exhibition was held at (the 3rd floor of Hermes at Liat Tower), I was rather surprised to find what I saw - the exhibition was literally the room itself. That wasn't something that I took notice of when I found out about the installation via the Straits Times (I was in camp though during that period of time, maybe that's why I didn't quite read it properly).


I still remember why I wanted to see Moment and Eternity the moment I found out about it - the rich patterns that evoked traditional Japanese imagery found on kimonos. The richness of colours was also another thing that I wanted to experience first hand. I enjoyed the former when I visited, but not so much of the latter - upon seeing the installation, I noticed that the prints (especially those on the floor) were worn away. That was when I realised that transience and the impact of our actions were themes that the artist wanted to convey. Quite impactful indeed, especially in today's interconnected world.


That being said, I was a little disappointed that the installation was not as immersive as I envisaged it to be; I thought that I would be literally be surrounded by a riot of colours and patterns - that wasn't the case because of the architecture of the space.

Moment and Eternity is an installation at Liat Tower's Hermes, and is available for viewing from 20 April through 3 June.

Saturday, May 05, 2012

Week 3, AIT

As it was for the past few weeks, Sunday (29 April) was a particularly emotional day for me, albeit to an even greater degree than it was in the past. Being at church, I wept my heart out, crying out to the Lord for both strength (for) and respite from my present situation as a rifleman trainee. Its not that the training is especially tough (not presently at least, and I'm definitely sure that it pales in comparison to those in SCS, OCS or Guards), but it pains me to struggle in a circumstance that I did not want to end up in. God's answer to these prayers - To trust that He has a clear path demarcated for me. It was also my first time experiencing a phenomena that is quite entrenched in the Pentecostal form of worship - being slain in the spirit. It was absolutely surreal, at that particular moment when you fall, no amount of controlling your body seems to be able to control your body's impulsion to drop to the ground, and when you finally regain control (a mere moment later), it's too late.


But that is more of a precursor to the week that lay ahead (AIT, Week 3).


30.04.12 The day started quite decently, as opposed to the sleep that I got the night before (I was ushered back into camp life by a lot of mosquito bites in my sleep), where the morning wasn't too hot - that made morning PT fairly bearable. Despite the PT session being one focused on strength training, I was surprised to find it quite manageable - tiring nevertheless, but manageable. Subsequently, we did something known as section drills, this too was quite relaxed - I suppose it had something to do with the following day being a public holiday (the sergeants are humans too). With the afternoon's CO talk cancelled, the rest of the day was spent doing area cleaning, allowing us to finally book out by 6.45pm - the earliest ever yet.


01.05.12 May Day offered me a respite from camp life, and it was a day beautifully spent. Punggol Waterway proved a wonderful place for a relaxed morning walk, and a hobo-like breakfast with the folks on a park bench - it's so very nice to see people live so leisurely, I suppose there's a certain je ne sais quoi to it. Lunch was a simple dim sum meal at 112 Katong - it wasn't so much where or what was consumed, but the fact that it was a meal shared with my loved ones.


02.05.12 Waking up [early] in the morning has always been something that I struggle with; I just realised that I will never get sufficient sleep (i.e. at least 7 hours of 'uninterrupted rest') in the army due to the lights out timings and early reveille. Rather scarily, I noticed that there are rashes on the joins of my legs - much like those that plagued me as a child. God I pray that this doesn't re-emerge as a condition that I will have to battle. The day was one that I feared, not only because of the anticipation of physically arduous training, but also because of the worry of being alone - the 2 guys that I usually talk to (they're from Tekong) would be away for interviews (one for his IDA scholarship interview, the other for NUS' accounting). Which made this verse particularly apt:

Psalm 119:147 -
I rise before the dawning of the morning,
And cry for help;
I hope in Your word.

The morning's IPPT training was quite tough, especially because I am so weak physically. I'll admit that I skipped one or two exercises in a set - it isn't something to be proud about, but what am I to do when. We were supposed to settle our electronic-laser-tag-style shooting system thingamajigger right after that, but with the weather conspiring against any of such actions, we spent the rest of the morning relaxing in our bunks; I wish I had spent the time sleeping. Alternatively, it might have been because the sergeants weren't ready with the equipment required to do that, but regardless, the morning, with the exception of the IPPT training was rather restful (I suppose anything is restful relative to training). We did section fire-movement in the afternoon, again this wasn't too taxing (though I'd be lying if I said that I committed to memory everything that was taught there). That lasted till the late afternoon, and in the evening, we were surprised with a rather pleasant blessing - an early RO (sometime around 7+), that's highly unusual, but it afforded me with much needed sleep time.


03.05.12

James 1:2-4 - My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.

I was uncertain, to say the least, about how this particular day would turn out - I suspected that it would be long, but whether the day would be exhausting or not was something that I couldn't anticipate. Regardless of the uncertainty, I had the reassurance that I was prepared for whatever thrown my way (hyperbole of course) thanks to the additional amount of sleep that I got courtesy of the early RO the night before. Combat Circuit was the activity that kick started the day - I failed to do it properly, as unlike the previous session, I had to fireman-lift/casualty-drag a heavier activity partner in the first round. After switching a partner (one who was willing to help me with those 2 activities), I suppose I should have been able to put in more effort into the other stations - yet I didn't, simply because there was so little incentive to, with everyone else cheating at it. I compromised on my desire to glorify my God in all that I did - that was something that didn't feel good, nor was it a proud moment. But I was equally glad that God still showed His mercy nevertheless by simply brining me through the activity, even if it was done in such an odd manner (of subverting the glory that He deserves). Oh Lord, You are truly mysterious in the ways that You work.

Subsequently, we left our camp for a simulated SAW and GPMG shoot in the IMT shooting gallery at Pasir Laba camp. It was a long ride, of which I was thankful was in an air-conditioned bus (as opposed to an uncomfortable one on a tonner) - that gave me some time to catch some shut-eye. Entering the camp, and noticing its surroundings, I was poignantly reminded of of how deprived AMQ camp truly is - the facilities at the camp that we visited were equal, if not better than those in Tekong; there were clean walls, generously landscaped avenues, roads devoid of potholes (OCS however is significantly more impressive). I suppose that has much to do with the fact that the camp served to train the SAF's next batch of commanders, but regardless. That aside, the afternoon there was spent mostly waiting for the half and hour or so that we spent inside the shooting gallery - I was so glad that I remembered to bring my Time magazine and my diary, both were excellent time killers (ironic considering the title of the magazine) apart from engaging in conversations. In between recording the various events and moments of the day, I wrote once again a prayer (a cry that has been repeated particularly frequently lately):

[God,] I know you hear my desperate cries in my prayers, I know my time here in AIT is one for me to grow - spiritually, physically and mentally, but I also pray that You keep your promise of freeing me from this environment, [and] transfer me to something that will be more suited to my physical and mental capacities after AIT.

It should be perfectly apparent that the key thing dominating my mind and my thoughts (at least since I found out about my postings) is leaving my position as a rifleman. Yet I am unwilling to do it based on lies (especially via a down-PES that hinges on a false medical condition); I am left with trusting the Lord.

That aside, I was down with the afternoon shoot by around 4pm, and after 'handling' a SAW and a GPMG in the simulated shoot, I fear that I would do quite terribly at the live shoot this coming Monday - I had missed at least 80% of the targets when I was using the SAW, and 50% of those on the GPMG. The metal scope of both weapons is terribly difficult to use accurately, and the recoil of the SAW in particular was a little too much for my bony frame to absorb.


04.05.12 It was a long time since I did my last road/route march, especially when one considers that I did not participate in the 24km one - my body was barely in the condition to do one. It was of little wonder that I feared the morning's first activity - a 4km + 2.2km march. Yet, as it was promised in Isaiah 40:26-31, the pain of the march did not prevent me from finishing the march. Yes I felt tired; my body was aching from the weight of everything (the ILBV, the soft plates inside it, the rifle and the field-pack). Yet it was by the grace of God that I survived, and I will survive future ones by that same grace. But to quote Richard III, I am I, so I shall ramble a little: The soft plates are truly devils - those things trap and retain heat to a very serious degree, their removal (along with that of the field-pack) was what that made the 2.2km afterwards a tad easier. Yet being at the back of a tactical route march isn't fun, especially when one has to do quite a fair bit of running to cover up the gaps and maintain a particular distance from the fella ahead.

The rest of the day was spent doing area cleaning. I shalln't elaborate any further on it other than mentioning that while I did most of the work again, at least my section mates helped.


There'll be a live shoot and a section field camp this coming week - both of which will prove to be trying events for me. I fear them, and I will continue to fear them, for I am only human. But at the very least, I know that I have the assurance that God will guide me and provide me with a way through them; He would protect me while I pass though them.

Punggol Waterway

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Punggol Waterway, 1 May 2012

Tuesday, May 01, 2012

Hear My Prayer

Psalm 39:12 -
Hear my prayer, O Lord,
And give ear to my cry;
Do not be silent at my tears;
For I am a stranger with You,
A sojourner, as all my fathers were.

God, I know you placed me in my present position for a reason; I know you placed me there to be a beacon for You, and to allow me to grow spiritually during this season of my life. But Lord, I am weak, I tremble at the face of tribulation, but I know You are my Jehovah-jireh, so I claim the promises of Yours that doth Your Word that I will not face crisis and trials alone.


But Lord, You have also promised to free me from such a life after AIT - for something that is more suited to my physical and mental capacity, so Lord, hear my prayer, hear my plea. Just as the men of old beseeched you, I too do the same; grant me strength to face these coming days, and prove your faithfulness in the days ahead. Lead me in a path that is ordained in Your [perfect] will, and keep Your promises oh Lord.


Help me to trust, help me to have faith, help me to glorify You.


Amen.

House NA




Image Credit: Iwan Baan & ArchDaily


I'm truly amazed to see that such a house exists in Japan, one that is so exposed and so open to the world - in a land where privacy is so acutely valued. This particular house goes against all the rules that the design world has come to deem as being quintessential to a Japanese home. It's really intriguing that the young couple who own this house want to live in such a manner; its really radical!

Week 2, AIT

22.04.12 Being in my present situation has made me crave (yes, analyse the choice of word here) the presence and grace of God. I was in a fragile state in church, breaking down into tears more than any previous weeks - I chose to be in the presence of God rather than to seek a manner to down-PES, as the former felt as though it were a more pressing need. It was perhaps the first times that I felt the Lord telling me that things will get better after AIT (the 6 weeks course that I'm in). A similarly pressing need that I felt I had to meet was to spend time with my family - a Sunday with them never felt that blissful.


23.04.12

Lamentations 3:22-23 -
Through
the Lord's mercies we are not consumed,
Because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.

The day's itinerary consisted primarily of physical training - something which I feared at the start of the day to be extremely draining. Oddly enough, I cannot quite remember what we did in the morning, up till 9.30+, after which I noted down in my diary that we had "restful activity" up till the afternoon. The juggernaut came at 3.30pm in the form of an exercise called Strength Training. Basically it involved both exercises with weights, as well as static stations - normally, while the exercises (especially the latter) would pose some degree of a challenge to me, they wouldn't be considered painful (at least when I compare it to my BMTC experience). In this case however, the static stations especially were quite a torture, especially since it was conducted under the scorching afternoon sun - that made doing pushups on the prickly and now scalding asphalt road especially 'ouch-ish'. My hands felt like they were being toasted, fried and then roasted for good measure; perhaps I'm being a little melodramatic and hyperbolic, but the point was that it wasn't easy. But I made it through - praise the Lord for his mercies.


24.04.12 Slightly more physically demanding than the activities of the day before, the 1.6km cadence run, topped off with a 30 minute AGR session proved to be quite an intense way to start the day. All I recall of how I felt after the run was that my feet hurt - but I also choose to believe that despite the pain, it was the strength of the Lord that pulled me through the exercise, and even the rather numerous sets of pushups that peppered the time between the runs (because of others' inability to follow commands). Oddly enough, this was something that I wrote in my diary, "God I pray that you open the minds of those fooling around to realise that their actions have repercussions and consequences, and I also pray that I'll be more patient and a little less neurotic - more willing to trust in You, for you have a plan for me". Later on, we were assigned to learn how to handle a secondary weapon - mine was a GPMG (General Purpose Machine Gun), and I must say that compared to a SAW, it is significanlty harder to handle in so many ways (be it stripping and assembling or the many more IA drills to remember). I suppose this is considered progressive training? The training was long. lasting from the late morning (if my memory serves me correctly) all the way till around 6pm. That's quite a few hours spent on handling a piece of metal.


25.04.12 Like the day before, the day's morning consisted of something called Speed Training - I suppose that is another permutation of a running exercise. But I wouldn't know for sure; I was sent to the MO, along with several other individuals who had asthma in their childhood to collect inhalers (I suppose the sergeants were getting rather worried about our physical wellbeing following the revelation that the infantryman who had recently collapsed and passed away had suffered from that condition). Yet after spending just over 2 hours waiting at the medical centre, we were informed (rather rudely might I add by the MO) that our condition (or lack thereof) did not warrant an inhaler, and that "our sergeant [could] come and see him if they [thought] they were doctors". I also missed the afternoon PT (IPPT skills training) because the GMPG handling test took far longer a time than what it was planned to require. I suppose that was God's way of protecting me from something that I couldn't handle, a rather odd way might I add, but I'm glad that I was spared from what would be an otherwise physically arduous day. That being said, I suppose the IPPT skills training would have been quite beneficial for me given the fact that I.


26.04.12

John 16:33 - These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.

The Lord be my guide and source of strength - that was exactly how I overcame what I had to face on this particular morning. Again, it was a 1.6km run and an AGR following subsequently. Tribulations come and go, but the grace of God is eternal - unlike the first 1.6km run, I wasn't panting; it was quite smooth and enjoyable. Likewise, the AGR was made a lot more manageable by the fact that we could not only run at our own (selected) pace, but the time was reduced from 30 minutes to 20 minutes - a huge discount, one that made the task a lot less gargantuan and far more possible and human. So praise the Lord. Later on in the day, we had section drills - fire movement and others. Oddly enough, as a spare gunner for both the SAW and GPMG, I didn't need to do much during such trainings, other than to trail the guy that I was poised to replace should the unthinkable happen in a war (which in my opinion is a rather unlikely scenario). I'm completely clueless when it comes to such battle skills - much was lost from my mind following field camp in BMTC, so I suppose my position as a (rather useless) spare is quite fitting. My buddy shared the same fate - apparently that's what most if not all of the BMTC guys got. The extent of "not doing much" extended to the point where all I did was play the dead fallen enemy, that is, to simply lie down on the grass.


27.04.12 Book-out day once more. Unlike the previous days, this day was far less physically strenuous - it started out with area cleaning (gosh, this place does it far more than it is done in Tekong, and yet it feels so much dirtier). As with the previous time, the guys in the bunk aren't exactly proactive, though I must say that there is an improvement relative to the previous area cleaning. I suppose the inertia to start work proves particularly extreme for them. That aside, area cleaning was followed by gymming - the gym part wasn't too exhausting, I suppose its because you get to choose how much you want to push yourself, what was slightly taxing was the static exercises that we did after that, in particular the lower body exercises (lunges especially. 20 counts of 4 is quite a load to handle). More area cleaning came after lunch (it lasted practically the rest of the afternoon), and yet despite that, and the promise of an "early book-out" from the sergeants, that was not the case (thereby making my previous statement on them being deemed as "liars" particularly pertinent). Which is why I will be rambling and ranting below.

I hate how I find myself whittling away the hours in very mundane and draggy manners - all because of the inefficient manner in which the commanders in where I am relay information. I suppose it is made particularly irritating at that particular point in time because my book-out timing depended on it, but inefficiency is what it is. We were raking leaves up till about 3.15pm, with no news on whether we could stop to return to cleaning our bunks. Sometimes, I begin to wonder if the sergeants actually conspire to delay our book-out timings. Toying with something like that isn't a way to gain respect from those under you - I had deep respect for my commanders in Bronco, who were fair and reasonable; they understood that personal rest time was crucial to the mental wellbeing of their men. Its appalling how we only left the camp at close to 9pm, far later than what an "early" book-out would imply (5+ to 6+).


But I shall end my post here.

For all that needs to be said has been said.

All that can be done, has been done.