Its now 7.12am, and oddly enough, today felt like a school morning. Just as it was last year, I woke up at 6.30am or so, brushed my teeth, showered, had my usual schooldays-style breakfast (consisting of shaved ham, scrambled eggs and a toast). It unnerved me quite a bit that returning to camp could feel like that - sure, I didn't enjoy the mornings in JC either, but it was generally a good period of my life, and I'm rather cross that this encounter is intercrossing with that. Silly me for thinking that much - but I just do.

Rotation 1, Week 2

18.06.12 The routine orders issued the night before, as well as the pre-printed schedule pinned up indicated that Monday's Coastal Hook Operation (CHO) would take about 2 hours or so - it was in the afternoon. As such, Monday morning was quite a typical one - breakfast, drawing of arms, first parade, cadence run (1.6km). Yet despite it being a rather routine morning, the run still proved quite tiring, especially at the start; I suppose that has something to do with the physical weariness that I felt after one week of Rotation 1.

Oh Lord, be my tower of strength and my refuge.

Every now and then, inserted in-between an assortment of complains and worries that I note down in my diary, comes pleas to a higher being. But I digress, or perhaps I am merely offering you a view of how my mind attempts to cope with the discomfort that I feel being in my camp/unit/vocation.

Right after the run came a session of area cleaning - it was because the CO was coming to pay the company a visit (he's the biggest shot in the battalion). Can't say very much about how it went, but I suppose the lack of any comment from our superiors meant that things went fine and dandy. Later on came a last minute practice for the CHO (but not without a long wait), before we headed off for an early lunch, and then for the actual 'mission'.

It's interesting to note that while the site where the CHO was held at seemed particularly isolated and remote (it was forested, by the waters overlooking what I assumed was Malaysia), it was just next to an industrial and residential estate in Yishun. Really quite unexpected - but that took the return trip to discover; I fell asleep in the bus on the way there. The CHO also gave me a chance to put the new SAF boots to the test, they definitely work as advertised - water does drain out, but it also goes in through those ventilation holes. No matter, I suppose it's far better than having one's boots be waterlogged for the whole afternoon. I can't exactly say that I enjoyed the CHO, but at least there wasn't anything to hate about it - and that is something that I thank God for. To be perfectly honest, I will describe what we did there as merely going for a few spins in a metal (tin-can like) boat in the water, before docking back to shore and charging up a hill to our return point. I'm stripping the activity of its storyline because I wasn't exactly sure how what we did fit in to it. Upon returning to shore, my section, being the beach recce team, spent our time at the beach soaking our feet once more, as we scoured the beach in a zig-zag manner for any potential obstacles to other docking boats. Not that there were any - everything was just a game of pretense (much like how many other things in the SAF are).

19.06.12

Psalm 68:4-5 -

"Sing to God, sing praises to His name;
Extol Him who rides on the clouds,
By His name YAH,
And rejoice before Him.

A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows,
Is God in His holy habitation."

Staring at the Charlie cat (we do have a resident feline at our COY-line) and its companion roaming freely around, I felt rather envious of their freedom. Is that an unusual thing to think about, or am I not alone?

Once again, the day featured a 1.6km run, this time even earlier in the morning. It came with a bonus of quite a few push-ups. But apart from that, the morning was quite restful.

Then a moment of shock came, one that transformed itself into anger and anguish a little later on. Sometime around 12.30pm, I was informed that I was shortlisted to be, and would most probably become the MG gunner's assistant. Everything seemed to hit rock-bottom upon hearing that news. If you aren't aware, that role would require me to carry a bag that weighted approximately half of my own body weight, and trek along with it through thick and thin (i.e. dense vegetation for a long distance) - it would be like doing route marches every time we had an outfield mission, except with a far heavier weight attached to my spine. I was hurt, I was truly upset at how things seemed to always be so terrible for me in my present phase of life. It was the first time I wept before the Lord in camp, as I was begging to be freed from that responsibility - I knew very well that I wouldn't be able to handle such a load well, even if I needn't walk long distances with it; even merely carrying someone via the fireman lift method for a mere 50 metres or so proved a huge challenge to me.

I cried out to the Lord, in desperation, in tears, in fear. I was embarrassed that someone who hadn't seen God's grace had to tell me (albeit rather unconvincingly) that "good things come to those who wait". I really wanted to continue trusting in the Lord even in my dark hours, to continue singing praises.

Philippians 4:6-7 - "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."

"Oh God, I thank you for sparing me. I wouldn't be able to handle. for long distances and durations." Someone volunteered to take that role, and for that I am very grateful - to both the individual, and to God for providing such a willing soul.

20.06.12

When dark clouds cover the Savior's face, and we seem to be unable to feel His love or presence, recognize this - the devil is attempting to sow doubt and discouragement. To counter this, claim faith in God's promises, pray and seek Him, focus your eyes and heart on Him.

That was the message that my mom sent to me just before I left for my outfield time. I truly detest being in that setting, it is particularly difficult for me. Yet, I was persuaded and guided to arrange my medical appointment on Friday (a day when we had nothing, when the outfield exercise was over) instead of using it to miss the camp (as some had suggested to me). It was a leap of faith (in God) that I took - and I prayed that it would not be one done in futility. Speaking of hoping things were not done in futility, I prayed desperately for my MA on Friday; it remained on my mind the whole time we were at Murai. I was desperate to get out of my vocation, but yet I wanted to do it in a manner that didn't go against God's laws or my own moral code.

But enough of the words of my mind - here was what transpired over the 2 days:

The Murai facility is quite a large place, and this time around, we were encamped in the 'shophouse' section of the area. I suppose it was meant to expose us to a myriad of settings that could arise in urban operations. I feel a need to complain/ramble about the rather sorry condition of the mock shophouse that we slept in - the ground of the 2^nd level was littered with droppings from the birds that resided in the building's eaves; I suppose that made me aware of an issue that people in the past had to deal with (i.e. those who lived in such accommodations). We embarked on section UO training/revision (securing stairs, room clearing) after dumping our belongings down, but instead of doing it with our section commander, we had another commander take over us - our commander had something on (it was a perfectly valid reason though). The word 'revision' makes what we did sound like it was a school lesson, but I assure you, in terms of the physical effort it requires, and its relevance to everyday (civilian) life, it couldn't be any more different.

After a rather hastily settled lunch (outfield 'catering'), we began our afternoon mission - a rough practice for Thursday's company mission. We were bashing through forested areas, farm land and even a canal before our trek to an 'urban' area was cut short by a CAT 1 thunderstorm. Retreating to a training shed proved to be a much needed respite to my tired and weary body (I was worn down by the trek with my SAW, and at least an hour of proning down just doing nothing). "Please cut the activity now" - that was the thought floating in my mind as we waited at the training shed, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. We headed to another site (our assault's start point); in the words of my platoon officer, we were "magically teleported" to a dummy warehouse, containing equally fake enemies. Everything finally ended just before 7pm - I heaved a sigh of relief (figuratively speaking of course, I was too breathless at that point to actually do anything like that) that there wasn't any night training.

Thursday morning and its afternoon was spent prepping for the evening's mission, be it being equipped with the technical 'wizardry' of the PAN-TES system, to making sure we were carrying section stores that we wouldn't use in the mission. Reaching the forest at 6.00pm, we waited in prone position till about 6.30pm - that was when the mission of trekking through dense, dark and uneven terrain would begin. It was difficult for me, having to juggle a Bangalore and a SAW on both sides of my shoulder, and trying not to trip over the ground, and failing miserably at preventing the shoulder straps of both things around my neck from cutting into my flesh. Yes, I am a bagful of complaints. We finally completed the trek sometime after 12am - a sign to me that we wouldn't be able to meet the 1am planned end-of-activity time. I suppose it was because of the many hiccups along the way, one of which was how my entire section was lost - we were all tired, section commander included. Reaching however was a pleasing thing, simply because I had reached some form of closure, above having survived the trek (that was most probably more than 4km). I won't say much about the storming process, other than the fact that it involved a bit of waiting - which all of us used to rest (i.e. sit down), and that I was 'injured' by a sniper (in the artificial world of war and fighting according to the TES-set). The latter event meant that I could rest during the remainder of the exercise - half an hour or so, which my body very much appreciated. It wasn't a deliberately planned move, I can assure you, but it just happened. The exercise finally ended at 3am, two hours later than what was planned, and we only returned to our camp after 5am. Well at least it was over - that was what I told myself.

22.06.12 MA day. Returning so late meant that there was no chance for me to rest prior to my health screening, and there was still rifle-cleaning that had to be settled - thankfully I still managed to reach the clinic by 9.30am. Blood tests and so on were the standard things that I did at AsiaMedic. It felt great to be out of camp, but the desire to simply not waste my parents money on this endeavour proved to be an inescapable thought that lingered - I really hate wasted effort and resources. Oh but on a side note, the clinic is really nice - there was a nice refreshment area, with proper food like bread, steamed buns and soup, plus coffee - that was really great, considering that I didn't take breakfast to prepare for the tests. I didn't return to camp afterwards - night's out proved to be more than a night's out - it began in the afternoon. So after a lunch of carbonara, I headed home to rest - something that was very much needed. I thank God for the way He allows things to fall into place.

23.06.12

I'm now sitting in the Esplanade Library, listening to a piano recital of "The Lone Star Suite", surrounded by (presumably replica) Barcelona chairs, Arne Jacobsen Series 7 chairs, and am sitting on a 2 seat Le Corbusier loveseat writing this.

Here is what happened prior to this; that allowed the above chunk to be written. We were informed the night before that Saturday would end for us only at 11.30pm - mighty late, especially when one also pitches that timing against our book-in timing of 8.30am on Monday (just a few hours away from the moment that I publish this post). Our Saturdays were burnt to perform our NDP duties - or rather, what we were conscripted to do: be road marshals - certain roads were to be closed for the parade. Our respite however was that we were working in shifts; mine happened to be at night (for one hour between 7pm and 11pm). Also a consoling fact was that we would be in the city centre, and that during our off-duty hours, we could roam around. That was how I managed to read and write at the library, how I managed to have really good gelato at Marina Square, and lasagna for dinner. It's rather interesting to do the first 2 things that I listed above in uniform - both aren't things that NSFs are usually seen doing (especially the first one), but I am just happy that I could do something I enjoyed. The evening duty was actually really relaxed - pushing a barricade across the road is far from anything arduous, or perhaps that was because I had been through far worse the day before.

And I am now tired. And I will stop writing at this abrupt juncture.

A particularly beautiful concept to ease the pain that is conjured up by the brain when the thought of taking medication (and by extension being ill) arises.

It's lovely to see local designers coming up with simple, yet deeply impactful design like this. That being said, in my opinion, it would be nicer if the paper used to contain the medicine had a little bit of prints on them - colours can affect the mind's perceptions on things. Minimalism need not be bland and colourless.

Dearest Dad,

It has been 19 years since you first stepped into your role as my father, and let me just say that those have been 19 very wonderful years for me. In every moment of my life, you've selflessly cared for both the family and I, despite the sacrifices that you have to make.

"The righteous man walks in his integrity; His children are blessed after him." - Proverbs 20:7

It is through your gentle care, love and good guidance that I am truly blessed; I thank God each day (more so than ever these days) for placing you in my life. It is my prayer that He will continue to guide you each day, and give you strength to face your days; I pray that you would be empowered spiritually and physically, that in good health and spirits, you would continue to glorify His name through your role as a father.

I love you Dad. Happy Father's Day.

Quite a decent place for dinner.

I need to learn how to pray, to continually trust and wait in faith. As with every book-in, this one featured yet another episode of low spirits. But unlike the previous episodes, I tried; I made a conscious effort to be a little less down. It didn't entirely work, but at least I tried.

It's hard not to feel down about being in my camp - not only am I in the (insert ideal word here) platoon in the company, but my physical condition limits and hinders me from excelling in what I am forced to do - no one enjoys being bad at something.

I suppose I have the following verses to take comfort in:

Luke 18:7 - And shall God not avenge His own elect who cry out day and night to Him, though He bears long with them?

Psalm 68:28 - Summon your power, God; show us your strength, our God, as you have done before.

I suppose I should start writing about the events of the week. We're undergoing something called Rotation 1 this week, along with the next - the key feature of these two weeks are the external trainers from MTI (I believe it stands for Motorised Training Institute, correct me if I'm wrong).

11.06.12 Breakfast in camp tends to be particularly mediocre - more so than any other meal of the day, especially when it involves some sort of fried noodle. That was exactly how Monday began, but then again, I mustn't complain. After all, is not the food far better today than it was in the past, am I not being fed (rather fully if I may add). I suppose I really need to learn how to appreciate the little things in life to truly grasp how God is blessing me each day; I seem to have the capacity to see this only in retrospect, but that's a start is it not?

What came after breakfast was a cadence run - 1.6km, there isn't much to say about it because such runs have become quite a bit of a routine, other than the fact that I completed it. Following that was a nice time of rest up till after lunch, before a short session of weapons training (the SAW in my case) conducted by the people from MTI. It wasn't exactly a proper session of training - a revision would be a more apt word. Ending the session at 3.30pm allowed for yet another restful period afterwards - I'm grateful for such moments, but the following thoughts were also in my heart as I rested: "I fear the coming days, particularly the 3 days of outfield exercises. I sincerely hope to book-out on Friday).

12.06.12 It was clear that this week would be rather focused on outfield missions - the 2nd day's events achieved that. It was yet another round of practice breaching (the process of breaking apart a chain of barbed wire to get into enemy territory) as well as a bit of practice for the beach assault next week. It's funny how we are actually learning how to attack, when Singapore's military force was intended for defence (i.e. deterence) purposes.

Based on the schedule (it was a rather light day), many of us expected a nights out to happen on Tuesday evening. Apparently, that was the plan as well, but alas, it wasn't meant to be - it was cancelled at the last minute to gain some time to alter our preparations for the outfield exercise the next day. I suppose it not much was lost anyway, the 2-3 hours or so that are given during a nights out is a tad bit short anyway.

13.06.12 - 15.06.12

Isaiah 43:2 - When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

I've never enjoyed outfield exercises; they are just completely out of my comfort zone - the mud, physical strain, sweat and mental toll. Rather ironically, I'm posted to a vocation that features a lot of such situations. Rambles aside, I won't deny that the 3 days were met with similar apprehension. Yet I felt as if there was this little voice of comfort that assured me, that things wouldn't be as bad as I envisage them to be. I'd like to think of that as the grace of God being manifested.

The 3 days were held at the Murai Urban Training Facility, as well as the nearby Lim Chu Kang training grounds. Day one was relatively lax, especially when it is compared with the second day; what we did was essentially a revision of urban operation tactics, especially within a section. I don't exactly know what to write about it because quite honestly, I have forgotten what has happened - that's the problem with not keeping a diary (it's rather difficult to do so when I'm out of camp). What I do remember however was that it was a really hot day, and at the end of the day, I was rather soaked with sweat - not a good thing when you only have one other set of uniform to last you for two more days. Thankfully a section mate had the foresight to remind me about bringing additional undergarments and socks - I definitely wouldn't want to wear those for three consecutive days. And I had sufficient soap sponges to clean myself up a bit - that really made the night (i.e. my sleep) better; one really has to take whatever possible means to alleviate the discomfort of outfield environments, be it a jungle undergrowth or a hard and dusty concrete floor.

Day two wasn't anywhere as easy as the first - on the contrary, it was extremely exhausting, both physically and mentally. I'm speaking primarily about the night portion of the day, but elaborations on that will come soon. The morning began at 5.45am, started off with breakfast, sans the (almost) obligatory act of brushing one's teeth. Yes, it is particularly difficult to do that when one is outfield - I struggle with accepting that, I insisted on doing so in all my previous field camps, at the expense of additional (and much needed) rest. This time around, water was my only solvent (of bacteria). Breakfast consisted of a rather sad looking slice of luncheon meat (which I wrapped with a slice of bread to eat with) and a char siew pao. The morning training was essentially the same as the night's, and perhaps that was why the day was so tiring - it involved trekking through a forested patch for around a kilometre or so, before sliding down a slope into an 'urban' setting and charging through 4 buildings. Perhaps I'm being a little dismissive of the training in the way that I speak of it, but I feel it is easier to simply state what we did, rather than mask it behind a storyline, or maybe it's me just not taking things seriously. I'd like to think it's the former. The night training was especially difficult for me because of the following reasons: 1. I was physically fatigued - that's about as direct as I can put it. 2. My gun (well it's not actually mine, I borrowed it from someone else because the SAW I was assigned to is still being worked on) was being terrible to work with - it wouldn't fire properly. 3. The night vision equipment that I had to attach to my helmet couldn't stay attached - it ended up being a weight that dangled around my neck. 4. My goggles fogged up ceaselessly; who'd know that it would be hard to see with practically obscured vision. 5. A sense of breathlessness - courtesy of factors 1 and 3, as well as the constant running and jumping and climbing around that we had to do. Yes I am weak, I won't deny that. But I suppose it is in my weakness that God's strength is made known, at least I survived through the 2nd day, arduous and physically draining as it was. One moment however that I am not proud of was how I ended up complaining quite a bit (with an occasional swear tossed in) about my wearied state - that ticked off one of the MTI instructors towards the end. It wasn't a shining moment for myself, but I also wasn't too pleased that I was being judged based on that odd moment of folly - I normally strive to restrain and myself. Oh well, I can't exactly blame him as well.

I'm far too tired to continue writing at this moment, and I doubt I will ever revisit this post to expand it.

But I must say that despite the arduousness of the last few days of this week, I still saw the grace of God - I pray that will continue into the next week, which I suspect wouldn't be any easier than this week. I guess I will just have to trust, trust and then wait.

Image Credit: Serie Architects

I first saw this design a week ago (or so, I can't quite remember) while I was reading the papers, and I thought to myself, what a clean design for a court; what a neat way to suggest the strength and transparency of the Singapore legal system through an architectural metaphor.

Looking at the design again in closer detail, it is particularly interesting to note that the walls are clad in a terracotta material, forming quite a nice link with the surrounding (colonial terracotta-roofed) buildings.

Rather oddly, I still seem to be living in the month of May, based on how many times I had to correct myself when it came to writing the date of each diary entry this week. I suppose change is hard to internalize, and accept.

03.06.12 Funnily enough, I had mentioned to a guy from church that I was doing better, especially after the previous week; he still seemed to sense the depression in my voice. In a perfect demonstration of dramatic irony (at least in retrospect, or at that point in time, from God's point of view), that terrible feeling of being down emerged once again at around 6pm, just prior to book-in. My face soured just before dinner, my angst worsened, and so did the sense of helplessness. That was the moment that I told my mom I was seriously considering the idea of suggesting to the MO that I was suffering from depression. She got rather dismayed, and whipped out a book on depression to prove to me that I was at best suffering from an adjustment disorder, that I had little to prove my case. I suppose she had a bit of a point - unless I explicitly stated that I had thoughts of self-harm, the MO would probably greet my self-diagnosis with skepticism (that's the way that he was). My melange of bad emotions was worsened by the fact that everything was rushed that particular evening - packing, dinner, changing and so on, simply because my mom returned late from a prior appointment. So much so that there wasn't a chance to give my parents a hug (it is a security blanket for me - no matter how juvenile it may seem in an Asian society). It was in the car that I was fully made aware of how my emotionally (self) destructive behavior was affecting more than just myself - it was affecting my parents too. My mom expressed, in a rather agitated state that she too felt helpless, and consequently, that her success as a parent was being called into question. I'm sure my dad felt the same; he just didn't voice it out. Such words made me feel so terrible - I wouldn't want my emotions to affect another in such a manner, but at the same time, that made me feel even more helpless.

Earlier on in the day, my mom had related to me that a few nights ago, she had a dream - one that she couldn't quite recall, other than the fact that it involved me being in a different role or position in the unit/army. I would love to view this as a divine revelation, but at the same time, both my mother and I also recognize how deep-seated desires may manifest themselves in dreams. I most sincerely pray that this is a sign from God, and not the latter.

04.06.12

Romans 8:37-39 - Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

"I suspect I will always remain down here, but that mustn't stop me from brining God praise, because His love and mercy for me is unceasing, and He has blessed me so richly with loving parents." This was the first few words that I wrote for the day's entry, and I suppose it only reflects how much the previous night's events have affected me.

The morning started off with a bunkmate being late in falling in because he had fallen asleep - honestly, I was the last one to leave the room, and I saw no such sight. Though in retrospect, it was probably because he was bunched up under a blanket, and the image of that would not be very different from how he normally leaves his bed. He got into some degree of trouble for that. After breakfast came a 2.2km run that proved to be quite tiring at the start. I won't deny that I have a great degree of inertia when it comes to things in the morning - I suppose that played a part, but rather thankfully, the run improved as it progressed (that being said, it is still no stroll in the park).

On an off-kilter note, I finally heard the song "Call Me Maybe" over the weekend, and I've come to realise that those who sang it in camp were either musically challenged, or they simply loved to be annoying.

What came afterwards was much more relaxed - most of it was spent in bunk (till sometime in the evening), as quite a number of people (40 or so) had to leave the camp to get fitted for their No. 1 uniforms; some people were drafted to participate in the battalion's 50^th anniversary parade/celebrations. Rather ironically, it was during a time when we were relatively stationary and in a state of rest (in our bunks) that the flux of life made itself apparent. My buddy's attempt to down-PES was successful, and he was to be posted to a new company by the evening. Clothes were packed, the bed stripped of its bed linen, goodbyes said. Sometime around 3pm, he left the bunk for good. "Goodbye my friend, it was nice knowing you, thank you for being a source of support during my AIT days, someone to talk to. I wish you the best" - that was what I wrote in my diary. Sure, I was happy for him, but that didn't make me any less envious.

And that was Monday - a day of emotional battle, the battlefield of the mind (I'm alluding to a devotional plan that I've started, but have yet to come anywhere near to completion on YouVersion).

05.06.12

Loneliness is an absolute discovery

That quote from Marilynne Robinson's Housekeeping (I happen to be re-reading that book) was particularly apt for the day - in both the night before, and in the morning, the empty bed, devoid of any life proved to be a particularly inescapable reminder to me of not having my buddy there. "You realise that you when you leave and enter reality, you are all alone - both the sense of loss, and envy hits you" - that was what I wrote, that was how I felt.

Tuesday began with another session of IPPT, and as with the previous time, passing was still an issue for me. But at the very least, there were improvements; I shaved off 8 seconds from my shuttle-run, I did an additional pull-up, my standing broad jump measurement went up by 4cm. These are all minute increments, but I do certainly hope that they are the start of something.

After which came a UO training - specifically, how we were to clear stairs, blocked rooms, along with how to use some assorted tools to do so. There's nothing specific that I have to say about this, other than the fact that it was slightly draggier than expected, but that wasn't entirely bothersome. We also received life-vests on this particular day - it was something that we had to use in the coming week for a costal hook operation/practice/exercise, and the rest of the afternoon was spent practicing how to jettison/get rid of the ILBV and weapon should we get into a situation that deems it necessary. All I can say is that the life-vest proves to be more life-threatening than saving when it is paired with an ILBV - it is particularly suffocating.

06.06.12

Nahum 1:7 - The Lord is good, A stronghold in the day of trouble; And He knows those who trust in Him.

Isaiah 40:31 - But those who wait on the Lord Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.

I suppose we all need a little bit of support every now and then - it would seem that I need it a little more than others. The morning presented a morning run, which was something that we have not done in quite a while. It was a bit of a battle, much like life, albeit on a micro scale, but I must trust in the Lord to provide me with strength and mercy.

After breakfast came another installment of mobility training - though this one was not as relaxed as previous episodes. It was an amalgamation of other training exercises such as combat circuit, but that being said, it was still relatively tame compared to other trainings. The morning breeze was also a welcomed respite, as was the overcast sky - that definitely made training a lot more bearable. Subsequently, using mock boats (which were nothing more than tape on the asphalt shaped to follow the outline of a boat), we ran through some things that we needed to know for the upcoming costal hook exercise. It also included yet another session of practicing how to jettison our stuff - I believe I got a few panic attacks trying to breathe with the ginormous mass that was choking my neck. Equally discomforting was the realisation that my section would be in charge of trekking in the water - we'd get very wet.

Lunch was followed by a talk/workshop on heat injury - it would seem that that was becoming an increasingly prevalent accident in the SAF. Nothing particularly interesting about that, except that we were made to stand and sit repeatedly because some individuals fell asleep. Personally I do not believe in the efficiency and necessity of group punishments, but evidently, I am not in a position to do much about my beliefs. Afterwards came good news - we would be getting a night's out that evening (thereby proving certain rumors that had been going around that day as true). But it wasn't all entirely a blessing. Due to long-drawn delays here and there, we only left camp at around 7.20pm, and we had to report back by 9.15pm. It was less than 2 hours outside, and because of that, quite a number chose to simply forfeit this privilege. I didn't, and because I had a ride home, I managed to spend just under an hour with my family. It was tight, and I wasn't too pleased that my time was wasted earlier, but beggars can't be choosers, and I would rather have that hour with my loved ones than none at all.

07.06.12

Jeremiah 39:18 - "For I will surely deliver you, and you shall not fall by the sword; but your life shall be as a prize to you, because you have put your trust in Me," says the Lord.

Thursday was a restful day - that made this verse even more apt in reminding me that the Lord would always provide me with a rescue plan, no matter the circumstances. It is with that knowledge that I will continue to have faith that I will be posted to a better place eventually - I choose not to see that as deluded or wishful thinking, but as placing my hope in a greater power.

The day was restful because all of our commanders had their own training to attend - the would be away for the entire day, sans one sergeant who would have to (rather unfortunately on his part) deal with the rest of the company. The morning began later than usual - reveille was at 5.45am, which was our usual fall-in timing, and the rest of the day was spent doing something called 'Hazard hunting', which involved us walking on the IPPT route to see if there were any threats to our safety (I'm rather glad that there's actually such an initiative) and pretty much nothing else. The entire afternoon was ours, with the exception of a rather oddly inserted stand-by bed at 5pm (we did need to take some time to clean up the bunk, but that wasn't too bad). Oh and my new buddy joined our bunk on this day - he's another Tekong guy. Well at least I'll have someone (of a similar background) to be with.

08.06.12 We were supposed to have a 5km run, and company cohesion on this day. The latter didn't happen - which everyone was especially happy about. I shalln't say any more about this day other than the fact that I booked out at slightly past 1pm, and for that I am very grateful.

The coming week will be tough - God please help me!

Image Credit: Iwan Baan & Dezeen

So what if the fa�ade is merely decorative? I find it really interesting that the entire building becomes a work of art (or a sculpture, depending on how specific you'd like to be) simply because of the material that it is draped in - chain mail. I also wonder if the chain mail sways in the wind - such an interactive fa�ade would definitely add to the aesthetic appeal of the place, as well as further define the venue's purpose as an art/sculpture gallery.

Image Credit: Masaya Yoshimura & Designboom

Nendo has been producing some of the cleanest and most distilled works that I have ever seen - the very simple idea of walking around in a pair of [Camper] shoes has been presented in a literal but extremely beautiful manner of shoes trodding around the store.

I'm really quite amazed by the simplicity and pureness of this idea!

I have a brand new journal (still the same model from Muji) to inaugurate the start of my life as a professional rifleman. I am in no way pleased with my present position, but God, do help me turn to You for strength, and through that and other means, offer you the praise you deserve.

Three nights: Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. That was the amount of time spent in camp this week, as I returned from the wonderfully relaxed days of rest that I had to mark the end of AIT. It was by no means an easy one, the days were long, but respite came midways and for that I am grateful. This is what transpired over the course of those few days and nights:

30.05.12 Based on the routine orders (RO for short) of the night before, Wednesday seemed poised to be a long day, of which the pain it inflicted would be further compounded by poor sleep the night before. Waking up every hour or so was not something to savor, rather, it was something to be despised - mosquitoes and a stuffy bunk were key ingredients to this. Greeted by a sense of fatigue in the morning, I dragged my way down the stairs to face the day that lay ahead - it was supposed to begin with 5BX, but that thankfully was cut (presumably due to time constraints). The day was started properly with a cadence run, one that I felt wasn't entirely pleasant. I felt somewhat dazed throughout the run, and later on, my left foot began to feel rather numb. It was an extraordinarily surreal feeling, to feel the physical strain of running, and yet feel as though one were floating through it. I suppose it was because I was floating through it that I decided not to sound off about my fatigued state (though I won't deny that the thought had crossed my mind several times). Immediately after came Strength Training - this time, the exercises utilized one's body weight rather than free weights. Evidently, the strength that was needed to pull oneself through it was lacking in me, and by the 2nd set, I was a tad too weary to continue, so I fell out. Napping by the side for that minute moment did some wonders, even if the rest was interrupted by the constant whistle-blowing and shouts of my surroundings.

Respite came in the form of a 15 minute nap for me later on, while we were waiting for the next activity to begin - a recap on how to handle our weapons. It was through that, that I found out I was officially the section's 2nd SAW handler - that was something that disheartened me a fair bit; to be a spare gunner meant that there was still a foreseeable hope in being redundant and through that, sent elsewhere. Lunch was spent with such thoughts of despair lingering in my head, and this particular thought:

God can do anything, but would He?

That was a rather painful though to contemplate - faith in His deliverance was what I needed, and continue to need. Carrying on with the weapon handling training after lunch, we revised the stripping and assembling of a SAW weapon. I was rather glad to know that assembling proved to no longer be an Achilles heel to me, but stripping still did. A few tries (i.e. at least 4-5 attempts) offered some degree of improvement, but still no guarantee of a Recon 1 standard (basically, a term used to denote a near perfect capacity to deal with that particular weapon - I might have spelt it wrongly though) - that came and went with as much caprice as the whims of a toddler. Following that came something known as Circuit Training - initially, many of us thought it was yet another installment of something else that we had done previously: combat circuit, but we were proved wrong. It was actually an amalgamation of other PT sessions that we had, though what it entailed exactly I cannot be sure - a thunderstorm emerged midways and cut the activity short.

31.05.12

I look to find You down on my knees, oh God I believe, please help me believe.

Numbers 14:8-9 - [Caleb said to the Israelites:] "If the Lord delights in us, then He will bring us into this land and give it to us, 'a land which flows with milk and honey.'Only do not rebel against the Lord, nor fear the people of the land, for they are our bread; their protection has departed from them, and the Lord is with us. Do not fear them."

When dark clouds surround us, pray for eyes of faith to see beyond the norm and the natural, for faith that won't waver.

What lies above are 2 chunks that I used to try to inspire myself on this particular day. The first is a line from Switchfoot's song Sooner or Later (Soren's Song), the latter a text that my mom sent me (she does so daily, encouraging me with biblical verses, some of which feature in my various recollections of my life in camp). Below was the chunk of text that I wrote just after those that you see above:

Oh God, with each day that I remain as a rifleman, I feel more and more hurt within, even if my external self seems to be adapting - I am hurting [inside] because I feel that you aren't answering my desperate cries. Oh God, but You are merciful - You will deliver me, just help me believe that.

But enough of the dalliances with my emotional pain - I must return to faithfully reporting the events of this particular Thursday.

Military life tends to become rather routine, and this Thursday morning was not much of an exception - breakfast, drawing one's weapon from the armory, and some physical training (PT). This particular morning, PT was yet another installment of Strength Training, and it proved to be especially tiring, despite the fact that we did little more than one and a half of the required sets. I suppose the sergeants cut it midways not only because of time constraints, but also because it would be futile to continue when most of us lacked the required strength to actually continue with the exercises.

Afterwards came a [seemingly haphazardly inserted] session of area cleaning and a stand-by bed inspection. I had just barely started sweeping the room when the commanders entered. Naturally I'd leave it one side, it wouldn't be polite to continue. That's when a particularly flippant sergeant decided to take issue with that, and poured out the content of the dustpan. That really peeved me - the question of what that dustpan was doing there was certainly redundant, and so was his gesture afterwards. How very rude and unrespectable.

The week saw several sessions of weapon handling revisions, and after the area cleaning moment came yet another - this time, I was tested on handling both a SAW (the one which I practiced a tad bit) and a SAR 21 (I hadn't touched one in quite a while). The test for the latter went relatively smoothly I suppose, stripping a SAW still took me 2 tries to get a Recon 1 standard, as for dealing with the latter weapon, I had to get a bit of guidance to do it properly. Rather ironically, that help came from the sergeant who had earlier done what I deemed as quite annoying, and in a calm and patient manner. It would seem that moods can swing quite drastically in the army. But that aside, I was glad to have passed.

The greatest surprise of the day however was what came in the evening - Nights Out. It would be my second one so far, the first of which came in the last week of AIT. Much like the previous one, I spent it with my family, though instead of dining at some restaurant, it was a simple meal at home. Nevertheless, it was still a good evening, despite the fact that the time spent outside was a tad bit shorter than what we got the previous time. I won't deny that I didn't expect such a blessing, nor will I deny that I wished that I didn't need to return afterwards - focusing on one's self-interests is a very human thing, being appreciative is something that takes some discipline.

01.06.12 This was our book-out day, but to be honest, that seemed such a distant thing at the start of the day, despite the fact that it was the first time a targeted book-out time was given - 8pm. We had 2 events on this rather long day: IPPT and a mini Section Battle-course.

IPPT was the reason why we had to be ready for breakfast at 5.15am - extremely early by the standards of most normal and sane individuals. It would seem however that the reveille timing was not made known to all the commanders, and we (i.e. the plain foot soldier/'men' - I hesitate to use either, as in all honesty, I still deem myself a child) were left waiting in the lurch. It was only at 5.30am to 5.40am that commanders began to show up and lead us to breakfast - lost sleep is what it is, something to mourn about. IPPT itself was not something to cheer about, at least for me. I'm particularly terrible at all the stations, with the exception of sit-ups, and worse is the fact that I've worsened at some, relative to my time in Tekong - namely shuttle run and the 2.4km run. I guess that can be attributed partially to my damp and slippery shoes; perhaps I'm making excuses. I could see that some people were terribly disappointed about not attaining a silver standard - they stood to earn $100 for that, and if they got a gold standard, $200 would pop into their bank accounts.

Afterwards came the section battle course, consisting of 2 fire-movement drills, and 1 breaching drill. Rather annoyingly, we were required to apply camo-cream onto our faces, but I suppose that was to be expected. And because of delays here and there, my group began the course just after 2pm, later than what we had expected, but then again, how often were our expectations (especially when it came to timings) met. That (whine and ramble) aside, I must say that by and large, my group's attempt at the course went quite smoothly - I definitely have to attribute it to effective leaders guiding us through. Now the bad bit: despite my caution, it was still impossible to ensure that there were no missing expended (blank) rounds - that really frustrated me; how could that happen despite my caution and care?

All in all, the week went by in a far smoother fashion than I had expected. Without doubt, there were still the bouts of depressive emotions that lingered around, but I suppose it was by the grace of God that they did not manifest themselves as aggressively as they had in the past. And the unexpected moment of respite on Thursday night was definitely a blessing.

But while I can see God working through tiny ways, I will still remain bold and pray/beg/ask/seek a better vocation - this one is far from suited to me. After all, the great men and women of the bible asked, and received eventually, even if there was a wait, for they asked in faith and in courage, knowing that He provides. For He is good and His mercy endures forever. Lord I pray You won't disappoint - You didn't for my mother's prayers in the past for a job where she could better use her counseling skills, she just had to wait, and I'm sure You won't for me.

"oh God I believe, please help me believe"