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.