I have more insight than all my teachers,
for I meditate on your statutes.
I have more understanding than the elders,
for I obey your precepts.

My birthday wish, I suppose, is not one of a material nature. I yearn for wisdom - not knowledge, but a deeper understanding and maturity in thought.

I'm really blessed to have good friends in my life - albeit a small pool, but numbers don't matter in these sort of things.

10 April, 10.23pm. The light in my room was turned off - something which I hadn't done before I left for the shower. Sigh, "those two people next door."; the folks in the adjacent bunk had once came into my room to turn off the light while I was out. Nothing significantly wrong with that, though I'd prefer if they did not trespass in such a manner. I opened the door, and I saw 2 back-lit figures in the room, one sitting on my bed, the other standing behind it - the effect of it was not unlike that of the photographical term contre-jour, but I digress. That bothered me, and my mind spurned such thoughts: what the hell are the two of you doing in my room; not only do you turn off my light, now you're trying to scare me? As I inched towards the light switch, a deep voice boomed behind me. It was familiar, yet I couldn't see how that should happen. It was S from my previous section. Flick. And I was surprised. S, CL, JX, Sgt P and PS YK were all in the room, and a small yellow (unmistakably cake-containing) box sat on a chair in the middle of the room.

Thanks for the surprise, it really made my day (which was otherwise a boring one).

12 April, night. Kilo (it's atmosphere and food) was great, but the company was greater.

"It's like a worker's dormitory," I said, half-jokingly to CL.

10am, the warm morning light is diffused - that doesn't make the room any cooler. Nor do the small ceiling fans that whittle away incessantly (don't get me wrong, I rather have them do that than suffer the blazing heat of Brunei).

I'm lying on a grey double-deck bunk bed, and many more surround me - there are 2 rows of beds that face each other, 16 beds or so in each row. I'm lucky to have a fan near me, its far warmer sleeping below. The bed sheets are familiar, I think to myself. They are the same blue ones that are used in every Singaporean army camp. At least they seem clean - no dubious stains on them. I sit back up, its tiring to read while lying down, and I observe the narrow artery of the bunk. That grey concrete walkway, whose dark grey veins no one notices - surely that can allow for no more than 3 franticly rushing individuals (its always about rushing here and there in the army). Yet that isn't an issue on this day, or on many other days as well - most people are out in the Borneo jungle. The only proof of their frantic rush is the stuff left lying around: toiletries above their narrow green cabinets, footwear tossed about the tight space between every 2 beds.

I needed a break from A Clockwork Orange - Nadsat was really pissing me off. Or perhaps I was getting drowsy from it, I can't be sure. I looked up and stared at the pitched roof, and the wooden structural beams caught my eye. They were painted a disgusting shade of brown - why couldn't the builders have simply varnished the wood to allow the natural grains to shine through. It would definitely make the space less depressing. And then I stared at what was behind me: meshed screens, chock full of exoskeletons.

And then I thought to myself, this would be home for two weeks.

These thoughts were penned on the 24th of September

I am in purgatory,
I am in an abyss,
I am Job.

I am the only one trapped here. Alone.

Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani

It is difficult to respond as Job does. As Psalm 22 depicts David.

1 Corinthians 3:3 - "For since there is jealousy. among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere humans?"

I must try.

I've finally passed my IPPT. After 8 months.

This happened on the 13th of September

I got robbed again - it could have been anytime between last night (after returning from home) to this evening (7pm+); I discovered my loss as I was about to pay for something at the mess. I'm terribly vexed, not so much because I had just lost my money (around $28), but because this someone had the audacity to steal from me at least twice! Is there not any form of moral code in him?!

An excerpt from my diary

And because of that, I've changed my lock.

Psalm 103:1-4 - "Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. and forget not all his benefits- who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion"

Last weekend's service preached on God being our [source of] peace - Jehovah Shalom. It is one that manifests itself in known and unknown ways. It tends to be an internal one, but can manifest itself in bold and surprising ways. It's interesting how Shalom in its own right is a greeting, Hebrew for "God be with you" - I suppose the presence of God and His intervention is paramount for peace.

I cannot say that I am truly at peace with where I am, but that is because I am looking at it from the very human perspective - finding equilibrium, or being in control. Yet I was calm this week, because circumstances played out, blessing after blessing. It was a good week, I won't deny that.

03.09.12 As off-kilter as the subsequent portion may seem here, I feel that I really want to catalogue/chronicle as much of my thoughts as possible on this blog, even if they may seem incoherent collectively - such are the rambles and musings that I pour into my Muji diary when I am in camp.

Sleep in camp has been particularly odd last night, as was the nap in the morning. At hearing my alarm in the morning, I simply couldn't figure out what that noise was - such a feeling was surreal, otherworldly. I suppose I was still in my dreamscapes. Then came the oddity of a nap sometime in the morning - I guess I was in a partially awake state, or perhaps in a moment of delirium; I started to get panicky, worrying about where I had placed my glasses. Yet I was still in my bed, unable to search around (or perhaps I did, in a state of sleep-walking/moving). Only later did the realization hit me that it was on the bed's headboard, where I always leave it when I lie down.

Madness is prevalent in my camp, but then again, what is normalcy when one's state of rationality and level-headedness isn't part of the status quo. Every day, people shout for no reason, yelling things with all the air in their lungs, when simply speaking it out with a normal tone would suffice. Daily, conflicts arise for highly silly reasons, especially over pride-related issues. But lunacy on a level that I witnessed on Monday afternoon was unprecedented - many people do try to escape outfield moments, but it was the first time I had witnessed anyone resorting to self-injury to do so. I shall cease to discuss this any further, except by saying that he needs help - lest it spirals into something far more detrimental.

04.09.12 - 05.09.12 The actual outfield experience this time around was quite relaxed - that I must admit. Such was the case because we weren't actually on any form of military exercise, rather, we were offering another unit (let's call them Five) support services - we were the enemies that they were to attack. All of us were issued with a little laser-emitting gadget that was supposed to track how we fire at others (and how they were wounded or killed) and vice versa. My unit didn't work, so there wasn't any incentive for me to actually shoot any blank rounds - I couldn't be "killed", nor could I "kill" any of those people charging at me, so I was as good as a spectator. That lightened one burden for me - having to expend many rounds, and consequently having to clean my rifle particularly thoroughly.

I got a chance to catch up on some snooze in the night as well, just prior to the morning attack that the Five were supposed to execute, because they came late - at least an hour or so. Coupled with my defective electronic laser unit, I didn't really need to put up a fight.

The next day featured a different terrain - this time around, we weren't in a forested area, but rather, an urban setting. By the grace of God, I got selected to be stationed inside an SUV - we were to patrol the area for Five troops, and fire at them. In the end, because of how things played out (it was remarkably difficult to communicate with others when one was roaming around in an SUV - the communication equipment were really lousy), we ended up doing more waiting than actually moving around - which was a good thing, it involved sitting down inside a vehicle. Nothing more.

06.09.12 - 07.09.12

Joshua 23:8 - "But you are to hold fast to the Lord your God, as you have until now."

Theft cases occur rather often in my camp, but I think have been spared, until now. I didn't lose much, simply because I didn't bring much cash to camp, but just the notion that someone around me would steal is rather vexing. I suspect I had forgotten to lock my cupboard - that is my own misdoing, but that doesn't give that individual an excuse to help himself to the contents of my wallet.

I take back the statement that I have been spared thus far - there was another incident where my wallet was found to be completely empty; back then, I had suspected that I had forgotten to bring cash into camp.

I must be more cautious. There's a kleptomaniac in camp, no there isn't. There's probably someone who needs money to indulge in cigarettes, and conveniently helps himself to others'. But I'm being harsh here - such a statement implicates almost everyone in my camp as a suspect, and that most definitely isn't the case. Justice and vengeance is the Lord's, and I must hold on to that fact, and be more careful.

We booked out by 5pm on Thursday, as there was a platoon barbeque at a sergeant's place the following day - that proved a slightly awkward few hours, if anything. I suppose I just have a hard time bonding with most of my platoon mates - we are so very different. But it was most definitely interesting to see them outside of camp, and to see a different (non-military) side to them.

I was still quite hungry after leaving the barbeque, so I suggested to CL to join me for dinner deux at Fei Fei - it was my first time trying it after hearing so much about it from Joel during my JC years. It wasn't bad, though not as good as Foong Kee in Chinatown.

09.09.12 I decided to give the Sunday service a miss this weekend because of the Army Half Marathon (AHM) that we were required to attend - thankfully, we were participating in the 5km version of it, instead of the longer distance races. It was an early morning - I woke up at 5am, even earlier than I would in camp, and all that was in my mind was to get it over and done with. I wasn't the only one with such a desire - I suspect most of the NSFs there felt the same, especially since most (myself included) would get a day off on Monday in return for our participation. I suppose that's a good deal. It was really messy there, the place was chock full of people, and needless to say, the initial idea of 'running as a platoon/company' proved unfeasible - that allowed me to walk a large bulk of the route (and allowed me to avoid sweating much). Plus the weather was good, and there were many interesting sights to behold (such as the vast openness of the undeveloped portions of Marina Bay, or some historic buildings here and there - I'm such an architecture geek).

It wasn't long before it was over (far earlier than I had expected, might I add), and CL and I headed to the Asian Civilisation Museum to freshen up. YL wouldn't join us - he was too keen on dashing home to reclaim his weekend duty as a keyboard warrior. That aside, it was great to escape from the crowd - who'd ever think of using the loos at a museum: no one my age would (well, barely anyone if I were to get into the technicalities of things). And then came a short but good breakfast at Blackbird Cafe - a basket of bread, a pot of Darjeeling and most importantly, good company and a cosy environment. It was a good morning, without doubt. CL left soon after the meal, and I wandered off into the Peranakan museum - I'm also a culture geek. I really love the Armenian Street area; it's so quaint and historic. And then there was lunch at Saveur with the folks afterwards.

It was a good day. It was a peaceful day.

It was a good week. It was a peaceful week.

It will be a good week - I hope.

It has been quite some time since I last blogged about anything, much less about my army life; I suppose things have either been too busy (i.e. a short weekend, activities etc.) or that I have been rather lazy - it does take quite a bit of effort (not to mention time - a very precious commodity) to pour out my thoughts and rambles.

In the past month or so, quite a bit has happened; moods have rose and fell, faith has surged and waned, my body has been rejuvenated and worn down. Its cyclical and unceasing, much like the ebbing of sea currents. And since it would take far too much (unnecessary) effort to actually reflect on the many mundane moments of that period, I'll just stick with the highlights.

9TH AUGUST - SINGAPORE'S NATIONAL DAY For quite a few weekends prior to that day, we've been stationed at the Marina Bay area on Saturdays to do some form of crowd management for the NDP rehearsals. This day was the final one, the one that would put an end to the few weeks of Monday night book-ins that we've been having. Everything went smoothly, not unlike how it was with the previous weeks. Everything went smoothly, except for one thing - my allergic reaction, which I had briefly mentioned some time ago. It was the cause for a miserable evening, and a terrible way to spend (or rather, the inability to spend) the few off-duty days that we had received. The consolation however was that the allergic reaction gave me a reason to get two more days of MC (I wasn't fully well by Tuesday), and so, that gave me a really short week in camp. One and a half days to be precise, and those days were really restful as well - especially since there was a Hari Raya celebration in camp.

MY RAISON D'ETRE - I'd type it in proper French if the blogging software I used would simply stop messing up foreign characters when it published things. I don't exactly remember the moment that I suddenly had a bout of an existential doubt, but I do know it came about when I was contemplating my interests, my distaste for the army, and how life will play out - we fight to work, to survive, and then to die. I truly want to lead a meaningful and enriching life, but if it were all to cease so abruptly and insidiously, then what was the point of anything at all? I suppose Dr. Frankl's notion that one must have the will to meaning is extremely true - life hinges on its purpose. Hence the aptness of a verse that I found the next day:

Psalm 119:116-117 - Sustain me, my God, according to your promise, and I will live; do not let my hopes be dashed. Uphold me, and I will be delivered; I will always have regard for your decrees.

DISCOVERY Sometime in the month, I found out that Ansen got a new post in the armskote of his unit - it is good news, and I am happy for him; life will be so much better, as opposed to him having to be on 7 days of continuous guard duty. And it was made possible through the people that God had placed in his camp, things played out nicely (over time, in a really unexpected manner). And it was through this moment that he saw the grace and love of God; that is something worth rejoicing about. Yet it was also a bittersweet moment for me. Out of my close group of friends, I was the only one still trapped. It was terrible and selfish for me to feel this way - I hate myself for that. But I really want to be doing something less taxing, both physically and emotionally.

OUTFIELD BEGINS I hate being out in the field. It's dirty, bug-infested (those that creep around creepily and those that annoyingly bite), but above all (or perhaps, as a result of those), it is the severe loss of personal comfort that I cannot stand at all. And there were two in the week that just passed, not to mention that there will be more ahead in the coming weeks.

The first one was the platoon live shoot (on a Monday), and it was supposed to have been a really easy day for me. With the exception of bashing through some bits of vegetation, all I had to do was wait till it was over, without even firing a single shot. That was what I thought was in store for me, that was indeed supposed to have been the case for me, until members of my platoon started falling out, be it via simply not turning up to camp the night before, or by taking MCs. It is indeed a problem that plagues my camp (and I am sure, other camps for that matter). I ended up being a replacement for one missing guy. That wasn't so bad, I consoled myself. And it was true, until the weather started getting torrential. It was far from what I wanted - prior experience had taught me that. I did not want to end up being in pools of mud, but honestly, I would rather do that than to have the activity postponed to what would most probably be on a weekend. The rain finally ceased at around 2pm - just in time for us to start with the blank shoot (every live shoot must be preceded by a blank practice - while it's tiresome, it's a safety practice that I agree with). After trekking through vegetation for slightly over a kilometre, we were about to commence with the shoot, and then it rained again. Heavily - that resulted in the shoot being cancelled yet again, except this time, we were soaked in the process. Everything else in the day went relatively smoothly, except for the lingering discomfort of being wet (not only were the clothes on our backs soaked, so were our feet - they were swimming in water-logged boots). It goes without saying that the rain caused the grounds to get muddy - and we were muddied, but that was not as grave an annoyance and discomfort as the state of wetness that we were in. We were cold and wet - and by a certain point, hungry, all the makings of being miserable. I was just thankful that the day was over. And one more thing: I had left my blank attachment (it is a small metal contraption added to the rifle to allow it to fire blank rounds) not far from the place where we departed - that freaked me out ridiculously. I didn't want to get into any trouble for losing a weapon part, and I was insanely upset with myself for being so careless. Long story short, it was found (rather easily might I add), and I was not punished - it is the grace of God that I have to thank for that. I suppose that was the only good thing that came out of the day, apart from being spared any lightning strikes and being shot by rounds.

The next one was a platoon outfield exercise. This one was marginally better than the live shoot, though it was not any less tiring. We had to dig a shell scrape (basically, a shallow trench/pit in the ground) to rest in the night before - we did in close to complete darkness, save for a torch light. It was excruciatingly frustrating to do that - not only was one battling a task that would be tiring on its own, it was made more difficult by the darkness, and in addition, the heat rashes that I had developed as a result of Monday's activity. All I can say is that I was amazed that God had brought me through the whole entire night - it felt like eternity when I was digging that hole. We were supposed to stay awake at some point in the night to guard the place, but I fell asleep during my shift, and I must say, it was truly necessary - the next day's activity would be immensely tiring. We were to attack enemies (rather ironically, these were played by some those who tried to weasel their way out of attending this outfield exercise by getting a MC) who dotted a very long and steep incline, but not before an insanely arduous trek through vegetation - that lasted over 4 hours. It was supposed to be around 4 kilometres, but it felt far longer, and I am sure that it was, given the detours that were made here and there. And just when that was over, we had yet another mission to complete - to attack another enemy hideout. It was supposedly near to where we ended the previous attack, but that walk took another 2 hours.

Truly, I say, outfield is ridiculously silly. And tiring.

And that is all that I have to say.

Sometime ago, I had raised this question: Was it wrong to envy others for the blessings that they had received, and it was in this verse that I found the answer:

Hebrews 13:5 - "Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. For He Himself has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you."

I suppose that only validated what I had already known in my heart for the longest time, that God will provide what is best for an individual, not merely what one wants.

25.07.12 Returning to camp after a (relatively) long break was definitely not the most pleasant of experiences; just a week or so ago, a friend of mine endured this, and this week, it was my turn to do so. Yet there was something to be grateful about - the way that things fell into place definitely helped ease the blues. First, it was a short week (that was something that we all told ourselves), and second, we booked not into camp, but in the Marina Bay area - there was some packing up to do following our NDP duties on Saturday. Of course, we wouldn't be spending the entire week in the city - the bus for camp was scheduled to arrive at 12pm, but it was still great that there was a bit of time to relax before returning to the full extent of camp life. We had managed to pack up the metal barricades in under an hour, so that gave us slightly more than 2 hours to unwind - time for tea at Starbucks, and lunch at The Soup Spoon.

I had hoped that when we returned to camp, that the remaining time (i.e. the afternoon and evening) would be allocated for rest - wishful thinking of course. Instead, there was some IPPT training for me (I can't complain about this, passing the IPPT is considered to be an important thing in the army, and plus, it wasn't as taxing as the session from the week before), and later on, the first bit of battle obstacle course (BOC) training. For the latter, what materialised as BOC training was a 1.6km run in boots - I suppose it was to gradually condition our bodies for the full extent of the BOC.

26.07.12 One of the spoils that I enjoy at home is sleeping in an air-conditioned room, and I must admit, that after close to a week of that, it was difficult to get a good night's rest back in camp. Or perhaps it was simply an excruciatingly warm night. I would prefer to think it was the latter.

In a nap that I had just after breakfast, I had one of the strangest (and rather scary) dream that I have ever had; my dream was set inside a mall, and it featured people chasing after me trying to shave my head bald, trap me, and if my memory serves me correctly, poke me with something sharp. Perhaps it was a byproduct of reading about the Holocaust through Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning, perhaps it was my subconscious fears manifesting themselves (the latter does sound really plausible).

The day started properly with a 1km fast march - the distance wasn't the issue, the ache in my shin that arose from it was. Another difficulty was in keeping up, primarily because I simply do not take large strides when I walk. At that point in time, I had no idea that it was a component of the BOC.

There was really nothing much for the day up till after 4pm in the day, when we did one run-through of the obstacles in the BOC. I suppose I should be glad it played out this way - during the few hours when there was nothing, I was napping (a good and much needed compensation for the poor sleep). The obstacles themselves were not any different from what we did during our Skill & Arms test (just prior to the end of AIT) - it was at that point that I realised the BOC test would be almost exactly like the Skill & Arms one.

Throughout the whole day, we were fed with the idea that a nights out was a possibility, personally I was rather resistant to that notion - I didn't want to be disappointed like the many instances in the past (especially when the week was short, there would usually cease to be a nights out). But I was wrong this time around. Rather cruelly however, the nights out this time around was extremely short - it began sometime after 8pm, and lasted till 9.45pm. Clearly, it was a waste of my effort to try to leave camp with such a short time frame, so I did not bother to even entertain the notion of it. Instead, I spent the time reading - I don't regret it, and it was actually rather relaxing to do that.

27.07.12

Psalm 55:22 - "Cast your burden on the Lord, And He shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved."

I had hoped that this day would be a short one, and it was indeed. Friday prayers (for the Muslims) meant that all of the day's activities would be confined to the morning, and since they were leaving before lunch, there would be no reason for the remaining people to stay past lunch.

Hope is powerful, but its potency is increased exponentially when one places that in the Lord's grace.

We did our first full run of the BOC, including the 1km fast march prior to the obstacles, and a 300m 'casualty lift' (i.e. lifting 60kg of weight on a stretcher for that distance) after. No doubt it was tiring, but we managed to complete it within the required time - that is somewhat of an assurance that we can (and by extension, I can) pass it during the actual test sometime this coming week.

Hope. That's just what I need.

On a side note, I'm starting to feel the burden of being obliged (by myself of course) to pen down my camp life here; I don't want to become a prisoner to my own deluded desires.

On another note, I am aware that I've the title of this post is the same as a sitcom (which I love).

I'll keep this relatively short because I've personally become rather tired of churning out long extended recollections of my life in camp. I would love to have a detailed and edited record of it on my blog, but that simply takes too much time away from me, so at the very least, for this week, things will be a tad bit condensed.

10.07.12 - 14.07.12

Genesis 48:15 - "God has fed me all my life long to this day"

One must cling on to hope, always. Jehovah Nissi - that was what the sermon on Sunday (8 July) was about, and it was a crucial and timely reminder to claim the victory that God's care would offer me, despite the everyday battles. I needed it - it was a long week, with all that was done for the preparations for the battalion's 50th anniversary parade.

Interestingly, I started off as being a reserve fella for the parade, where it was only in the event that people failed to turn up that I would be activated. I can't say that I didn't think I would eventually be roped in to participate in the actual parade, but I did hope to be excluded from it.

Rehearsals (for anything) are tiring. Rehearsals for marching parades are more than just tiring, especially when the scorching sun (pardon the cliched phrase here). It drained your mental resolve and your physical spirit. Thankfully, moments of respite came here and there, as there were some mornings that proved to be less less than sunny, and some afternoons where drizzles or showers proved a balm.

I was in the end drafted to be in the parade contingent - the rate of people taking MCs in the camp is simply remarkable. Personally, I haven't taken (a proper) one yet, especially not to escape my duties as some people do. Because of that, I wasn't free to merely sit by and watch the parade contingent do their rehearsals (the reserves have it really good - they sit out of the sun, and for some companies, they are even allowed to rest in their bunks). But the Lord was my refuge - the official army (in-camp) week came to a close, and all that was left was the NDP parade duties on Saturday.

Saturday, like the week, proved to be quite challenging, especially towards the end. The beginning part was fine; (most of) the of the day was ours to spend (our duties were at night). I caught a movie - Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter; if you're intending to watch it, don't. The storyline is simply atrocious, the only saving grace of the movie is its visuals (Tim Burton would probably be the one to thank for this). Midways through the movie, a section-mate called me, asking me to take over his duty slot - he really should have asked earlier; he has this tendency to try to offload his responsibilities at the last minute, much to the inconvenience of others. Needless to say, I told him it would be really difficult. Had he told me the reason of him wanting to spend time with his girlfriend (as he only did later on), I might have reconsidered. But at the very least, give me a reason, if not earlier notice - the duty schedule was out at the start of the day. Some people really must learn to plan. Regardless, I felt quite bad upon finding out later on. That aside, the real tough part of the day was the long hours - due to certain communication hiccups between the SAF and the F1 planning committee, certain barricades we had placed had to be removed; we only left the place at 11.45pm, and we had to book-in the next day at night. It wasn't exciting. It was a frustrating moment.

16.07.12 - 21.07.12

God will provide - that was what the sermon on Sunday was about. Which made this verse that I had discovered the week before rather pertinent:

Romans 8:25 - "But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance."

Trials come and go, but throughout, God will provide, albeit in rather unexpected manners. This week was one such provision - it was a week of respite.

The parade was on Monday evening, and because of that, we had to return to camp on Sunday night; it wasn't pleasant, but it was justified. Preparations had to be done Monday morning, as did a last minute rehearsal.

It came and went, finally, and the parade was a lot more manageable as opposed to the 10+ full-run rehearsals that we did prior to the actual one. Perhaps it was the sense of anticipation in getting it over and done with that offered this sense of comfort.

The rest of the week was really, (pardon the bad pun) restful. Apart from IPPT training on Tuesday (which led to my thighs hurting like mad), and IPPT on Wednesday (which I conveniently didn't pass - I just can't do it), things went really smoothly. We booked out Wednesday afternoon just after 1pm, and that gave me a good time of rest till the next day. Thursday was Battalion Cohesion day - we were all at Sentosa - I don't have much to say about that other than the fact that everyone was just waiting for the activities to be over such that they could book-out and rest till their Saturday NDP duties.

And basically, that was the week, in a nutshell.

Next week won't be as forgiving as this - with the 50th Anniversary Parade over and done with, we now have our Section Battle Course to focus on. I'm not looking forward to that, but God is my source of help. I may have wrote that "everyday, no matter how relaxed or easy it may seem to be, will undoubtedly be a struggle", but I must trust that I am not alone in my struggles, and I must learn to gain from these struggles - consciously.

04.07.12 "Oh God, I am still here", that was the thought that I woke up to, as any vestige of my dreamscape departed from my body. I was really tired - quality sleep seems to evade me rather often when I am in camp, and to have that compounded by a state of sadness and despair is not an excellent way to start the day. Later on in the day, I received a text that contained this verse, which was more than apt:

Psalm 118:24 - "This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it."

I really rely on the daily texts (they contain either words of encouragement or bible verses) from my mom to give me the strength each morning - it isn't merely the contents of the text that achieves that, but also idea that I have support from my family (albeit emotional) that manifests itself through the messages. That was why I got a little upset when I received a text from my mother, after asking my dad in a phone call to remind her to text me. Paraphrasing it, the text read something like this: You mustn't rely on the verses that I source for you - intimacy with God needs to be discovered by yourself. Perhaps it is a tad bit selfish of me to seemingly demand or expect that from them, but I genuinely need support and love to help me get through this season of my life, and I am very grateful for the support that my parents offer to me.

The morning featured a 2.4km conditioning run, in preparation for our IPPT test the next day (that wasn't going to materialize). I wasn't ready for it - weariness still permeated by being. But things went generally smoothly, despite the cold that I was seemingly developing. I'd like to think that it was because I surrendered the activity, and my physical state to God in prayer; many would doubt that, but that is how I choose to view the world around me. And in this world view, it was His grace that delivered me through.

Not having weekly schedules issued to our platoon (we are supposed to get them; it would seem that whoever is in charge is getting a tad forgetful), we have been relying on the nightly routine orders, as well as a quick glance at the schedule that was given to other platoons - it stated that we would be involved in some sort of preparations for our battalion's 50^th anniversary right after the run. That didn't materialize - we waited for an hour or so before we finally felt that it was safe to take a nap. And it was - from 9.00am all the way till 11.30am or so, we had a (much needed) time of rest, up till lunch. Lunch was the same fried nonsense that we get every other Wednesday - there isn't anything more that should be said about it.

I scribbled this thought down just after lunch:

Oh God, is it wrong to envy others for the blessings that they have received from You? Is that not merely a craving for Your blessings, for Your favour? I still continue to pray for something like what the Joels are getting, please hear and respond to my cries, oh God.

As you can see, I do desperately want God to bring about His intervention in this phase of my life; it wears down on me to know that I am forced to be where I don't want to be.

With that same amount of free time that came after lunch, I finished up Aleph, while listening to songs that were a mix of depressive ones, and gospel ones. The combination of the three left me feeling quite fragile - I felt achingly void, acutely desperate for what I had just written above, for God's love and grace to overwhelm me. Perhaps the surge of emotions was exactly that, I don't know.

Finally, at 3.25pm or so, we were told to assemble in our smart 4 uniform - most of us were late (we were given only 10 minutes notice). There was going to be a mini parade in the camp's hall; we were to recommit ourselves to Singapore and the SAF. I did not do that with a sincere heart, and I doubt I will - my loyalties are torn.

The day was largely uneventful, the day was over.

05.07.12

Psalm 119:116 - "Sustain me, my God, according to Your promise, and I will live, let not my hopes be dashed"

A burst of thunder, and I was awake. I was shaken up by an especially loud one, on top of the few other times that I woke up in the night. Clearly, my sleep was disrupted; I was not well rested (yet again), all the more reason why I had to look to a higher power for strength and sustenance.

Breakfast presented a rather interesting choice - between fishball noodles and a croissant that from experience proved itself to be terrible. I chose the former; I suspect the croissants tasted so bad because they were almost completely devoid of butter, but that is no excuse for it being solid and not light and fluffy.

It was our IPPT day, and it was raining. Relentlessly. That, and the limited facilities at my camp resulted in a long delay, before we finally made our way to the hall for the static stations in the IPPT test. As always, the same 2 things proved to be my stumbling blocks. We had to remain in the hall for far longer than usual - the rains outside were not unlike those that Cathy and Heathcliff would have experienced in the moors around Wuthering Heights. Ultimately, it was this downpour that saw the cancellation of the 2.4km run, and by extension, the IPPT test.

Gung ho-ism, and hypocrisy are two things that are very prevalent in the army. One of the key virtues preached by commanders is punctuality, though it would seem that some have exempted themselves from practicing it. This was precisely what happened as we were assembling for lunch. My platoon, as usual, was the last to leave because of our sergeant's tardiness. Above that, we were made to march in the rain - all the other platoons left by a relatively sheltered route. It is hard to not feel as though my platoon, and by extension, I, tend to get the worse end of the deal. Life isn't fair, for better or for worse, but it has never been about equality.

Right after lunch was a dialogue session with the CO, which, because life in the camp is so routine and dreary, turned the session to be one that was dominated by complaints. Oh well, at least he was willing to listen (he took notes), suggesting that there is some hope in things improving (even if it were at a glacial pace).

A bit of drills practice came afterwards, but for that, we had to draw our weapons from their storage place and because of that, the whole exercise took quite a while. That made any possibility of the nights out that we were promised (implicitly, and explicitly as well) an increasingly unlikely scenario. It wasn't the first time this has happened, and it won't be the last, but at least, the week was a (relatively) short one.

Just before dinner, my platoon was subjected to a very long march around the parade square, and even around the car parks in another area of the camp, over and over again for almost 20 minutes. Needless to say, we were the last platoon from the company to reach the cookhouse. Perhaps 'subjected' isn't a very appropriate word here - the whole thing was a punishment because a few individuals refused to cooperate and march seriously and properly. I've complained about this before on my blog, and I must add here that it was the same few groups of people. YL, I and even LJ were really upset by the time we reached the cookhouse, though YL was probably the way he was because he wasn't feeling too well. Paraphrasing something I wrote in my diary:

It's always the same few of us that are trying; it's always the same unrepentant few that penalize everyone else with their shenanigans. The whole time, I had to consistently pray for God's intervention to make me less pissed by their actions, to shield me from the perils that anger can bring (be it unkind words being uttered out or even hatred).

06.07.12 This was the third time in the week that I had failed to sleep properly - I woke up twice in the night, first at 3am to use the loo, and then at 5am, for reasons unknown, but I used it to prevent my alarm from ringing. Naturally, I didn't feel like getting out of the bed, and if I were to continue having this sort of sleep throughout my army life, then I sense that the morning inertia will be a perpetual one.

2 Corinthians 12:9 - "And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

I suppose this verse is rather suited for the day, for various reasons that will be made apparent as I document the day's happenings.

In the morning, we had a bunk inspection, or Standby Area in local army speak - we've been having quite a few of these lately, and just in the nick of time, as the sergeant was veering towards my corner of the room, I noticed from outside of the bunk (we have to stand outside when the room is being inspected) that my locker was unlocked. I dashed in, and made sure it got locked. It was really by the grace of God that I spotted it; otherwise, extra duties and punishments would come my way, since there was a rifle stored inside the cabinet.

The rest of the day consisted of drill practices for the upcoming anniversary parade. It wasn't easy, nor was it relaxed (especially since the sun was out shining intensely by the late morning), but I made it through the day, again by the grace of God. I shalln't elaborate more, but just the thought of having passed through the day and being able to book-out made me feel that 'the power of Christ rest[s] upon me'.

07.07.12 It was another day of NDP duties - manning road blocks. YL wasn't with us this time around - his bout of being unwell turned out to be a viral infection, and a high fever ensued. It definitely wasn't a day that he would have wanted to be a part of given his physical condition, and I'm glad that he (wisely) took an MC instead of trying to be gung-ho. Our shift this week was in the morning, and that led me to try to maximise the day: to spend some of it with my family by watching the NDP parade rehearsal with my parents (we were given 5 tickets). But alas, life cannot be planned to the minute details; things transpired that made my effort to maximise my time futile. Towards the evening, just as I had seated down in the grandstands, I was told that I had to report back to our duty area to collect dinner - that our attendance was being taken, and penalties would meted out if we weren't there. That upset me quite a bit - I had been told that we could use our free time to watch the parade (which I tried conveniently to convert into family time, thereby spending time with my loved ones without breaking the rule that we had to stay within the Marina Bay area), plus, our duty area was really far from the floating platform. Grudgingly, I made my way back, all sweaty from the trip, only to realise back at the collection point that no one was there to take our attendance. It was an empty threat that had wasted my effort and time. I suppose the consolation is that I did the right thing, but is that truly a consolation when it came at a high price? I suppose the right thing does eventually lead to a higher prize, but that is one that is distant. I made my way back to the grandstand after passing my food box to someone else, and sat down again with my parents. I spent about half an hour there, before yet another text arrived - all were to return to the admin area (i.e. our duty area). I was so upset. This time however, I left the grandstand for good, biding my parents adieu till I saw them again later at night. My plan for a family night failed.

I took quite a long while to get back to the admin area as I had to change back to my uniform - my attire of a t-shirt and shorts were "not acceptable", as I was told when I went back there the first time - how was I to know that that was not an appropriate off-duty attire when I had just the previous week seen one of my sergeants in that? Then there was the issue of dinner - I popped by Subway to quickly grab something, that made me a little bit later than I already was. When I finally reached the tent, there was no one there - apparently the instructions was to return to the grandstand area and do crowd control there. Sigh. That should have been included in the text that I received, I was just there, and it would have saved me a long journey back and forth (twice). But what frustrated me further was the mess that waited at the grandstands - reaching there, I received no clear instructions on where to go; it was impossible to contact anyone with the cellular networks so jammed up. It was just entirely vexing. I simply planted myself where I deemed myself to be of use, and made myself appear to be doing something.

It's not difficult to see that the day was tiring for me, but at the very least, directing (lost) people proved to be quite interesting - it was good to feel useful, to help others in that capacity, to speak and interact with people who weren't from the army.

Isaiah 40:26 -

Lift up your eyes on high,
And see who has created these things,
Who brings out their host by number;
He calls them all by name,
By the greatness of His might
And the strength of His power;
Not one is missing.

Every now and then, we need to be reminded that God's grace (and by extension, His miracles) can come after either a long wait, or can manifest itself in ways that we do not expect; nevertheless, no good blessing would be denied from His children. This is the reason why I must learn to have faith, to be patient, to trust that. one would know very well what my request here is if one has been reading this blog. The Father works in mysterious ways; this is the story of the week that had just passed.

25.06.12 The morning began in a surreal manner - it was one that started at home, something that I haven't done in quite a while. I woke up from my own bed, had breakfast with my family, I even had the time to blog about the morning just before I returned into camp. Snoozing off for a while in the car on the journey back to camp allowed me one thing - to be spared from the sight of the large (travel) bag and a tote that I had to lug in; I had brought home quite a fair bit to wash the week before: ILBV, helmet, 2 boots, all of these were on top of the normal amount of laundry that I would need to settle.

The morning was quite relaxed - I spent most of it cleaning up some of the store items that we have in camp. Better yet, was the (admittedly odd and fishy) news/rumour that there would be a night's out in the evening; it was the same day that we booked into camp. I chose not to think too much about that - at least in the morning, it felt too silly to be true.

Because we had just completed a training phase/programme called Rotation 1, we had a survey to do - after action review (AAR) is what the army called it. Rather interestingly, it was completed using a remote-control-esque device that some of my platoon mates pretended (rather annoyingly might I add) was a phone. Yes, some of my fellow camp mates can seem very much like children.

Like the morning, the rest of the day was rather mundane (though I'll be honest, I'd very much prefer a dull day than one filled to the brim with physically strenuous activities) - rifle cleaning was one thing that contributed to that. Time dragged on rather slowly, and by the time it was 5pm, my desire for the nights out had increased exponentially, while the prospects of it materializing followed an inverse trend. All hope was lost when we were informed that after dinner, there would be a platoon-level AAR on the recent Rotation 1 exercise. I rushed back up to my bunk immediately after this - I had arranged to meet my dad earlier, thankfully he had yet to leave the office.

Honestly, I was slightly upset about there being no nights out - not because it didn't happen, but because of how we were informed about it: we weren't. Guesswork and logical deductions had to come into play. Apparently it was because someone in another platoon had lost something, and time had to be spent to find it - that was the cause for the cancellation. Oh well.

26.06.12 Mornings are never stellar moments for me - this is something that I fear would be the case for my entire life. Getting myself to wake up this particular morning was not unusual in the sense that there was an unwillingness to it, and that I refused to budge for around 10 minutes or so. Thankfully, it was not an issue to lose that few minutes - there wasn't a need to wear the uniform that morning. This was the case because the first activity of the day would be the Ability Group Run (AGR) - it involved us running, non-stop, for 20-odd minutes. It was really quite taxing; I still remember the thoughts that were swirling in my head as I was running: "I've got to get out of here". My desperation is rather apparent from when it manifests itself.

Not too long after (we had about an hour; that was just enough to shower and change), we went to the camp's sole lecture room, in our uniforms for an AAR on last week's company mission at Murai. It was draggy, not unlike a long and boring slideshow, and I found it difficult to stay awake. I wasn't alone in that - most in the room were also fighting the snooze monster. A little ramble here: I can't understand why the laptops that the commanders use are so poorly equipped - QuickTime isn't even installed on it, and they were trying to play .mov files. It felt really silly that they had so many video files to present to us, and most, if not all were not shown for that reason. The IT team (if there even is one) should really look into this.

An hour after lunch, were were left to our own devices at the camp's gym; many of the guys did their exercises quite intensely - I tried, but I'm no gym nut.

Then came the week's first blessing - it rained. Normally, I wouldn't be head over heels about anything involved with the water cycle, but this time I was, because it meant that our run on the battle course would be cancelled. Obstacle courses are not my cup of tea.

The evening was spent with another round of rifle-cleaning - this time, we weren't cleaning the weapons assigned to us, it was those that were assigned to the commanders, and the spare arms. That made us realise how (insert appropriate word here) some of the commanders can be - their SAR 21 rifles were completely blackened with carbon residue, and batteries were left inside the rifle's laser guide (a big no-no, to prevent damage from a battery leak). Sigh.

27.06.12

Galatians 5:22 - But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

Owing to the rather messy planning at the batallion's HQ office, our guard duty days were switched around, back and forth, from Wednesday and Thursday, to Tuesday and Wednesday, and then back again. Because of that, I was supposed to do guard duty on this day, but thanks to some friends, I got back my spot on Thursday - something which I had volunteered for a few weeks ago. I really appreciate the fact that they did this, especially since it was almost certain that there would be a nights out on Wednesday - they were willing to sacrifice it.

Because the morning's parade was at 7.30am, and everything that needed to be settled was done by 6.30am, we had an hour to rest till then - oh it was wonderful (the extra sleep, I hesitate from using the phrase "pure bliss", because I was still in an army camp).

First activity of the day: Speed training - it was something that we haven't done in quite a long time; it involved us running a certain distance, within a stipulated time, for a few reps. But honestly, the time factor was ignored after a few rounds - that was something I decided to do after I started to get a little breathless in the first few rounds. A gym session came afterwards, and here's what I did: Lats pull, calf exercises, squats, just to name a few.  I realise that I have very little motivation when it comes to exercise, which is why I am really glad to have YL encouraging me every now and then - I need that.

I realise that I am like a man panning for gold in slurry water; these tiny nuggets of yellow that I have found are blessings placed in this present stage of my life by God to comfort me.

Just before our nights out, there was a large block of time that had to be spent in camp, so the commanders (or rather commander; all the others had went out of camp to help another company with their live shooting) got us to play ball sports. That isn't really my thing - it never was, so I snuck back up to my bunk after the instructions were given. It wasn't the right thing to do, but I did it. God forgive me.

Nights out came soon enough, except that my platoon was delayed by half an hour as a punishment for leaving the fans on while we weren't in our bunks. Honestly, we were the only ones punished because the fans in the other 2 platoons were not visible from the ground floor - that was where one sergeant noticed the very rampant wastage electricity on our floor. Well, on my part, I did turn off the fans at my side of the bunk, but I had forgotten to remind those on the other side to do so. Despite the lost time, I still managed to enjoy slightly over an hour at home - we had a family dinner, and cake, as a belated family meal to celebrate my mom's birthday. I really have to thank YL and CL for this.

On a side note: I am starting to get really frustrated and vexed by this one particular chap in my platoon who simply refuses to do anything properly and be disciplined in the simplest of things. It tends to get us into unnecessary trouble - that's what that pisses me off, but God help me. Let the fruits of Your spirit be manifest in me, for I suppose he knows not what he is doing. Help me to praise You by doing what is right, for You deserve it.

28.06.12 Thursday's schedule was exactly the same as Wednesday's, with the exception of the following: there was no nights out, and I had guard duty.

The morning played out very similarly to the day before, so I shalln't elaborate. Gym however differed; this time, it wasn't for everyone, it was only for those who failed their IPPT - I happened to be one of them. Everyone else got an extra hour or so of rest or time to head to the canteen, while the few of us headed to the gym, where this time, because the exercises were guided, it was really quite intense for me, and I left the place with my legs aching all over (I suppose that is a sign that it was effective?) Most of these exercises were targeted to help me with my Standing Broad Jump - squats, weighted lunges and lots of jumping; that tackled one of my Achilles heel, but the other (chin-ups) wasn't dealt with. One can only walk so far with 2 legs in pain (pun intended).

Lunch was western - a chop of chicken, some wedges, boiled carrots, rice, a bun, soup and ice-cream. Authenticity was excluded (I'm being far too fussy here). I wolfed most of it down - yes, I was hungry, and to be honest, while it isn't anywhere near authentic, I don't see how it is as bad as some of the camp people put it to be.

Because of my guard duty shift, I skipped games (yet again, though this time, it was for a valid reason). I had initially wanted to be a 'prowler' - i.e. someone who patrols the camp, but (to paraphrase Shakespeare) because we had to set our fate upon a cast, I faced the hazard of the die, and was selected to be the 1st sentry instead. So instead of walking around the camp with someone, I was stationed (I had to stand the entire time) at the main gate's security post. I had 3 shifts to do - 6pm-8pm, 12am-2am, and the last and unexpected one: 6.15am-7.30am. For the first and last shifts, I had a really nice sergeant stationed with me, so time managed to pass (with relatively little pain) as we chatted about our respective time in JC, about being in this particular camp, and about our future plans (post army). I found out he was from AJC, got a place to study business at SMU, has a brother who intervened at PricewaterhouseCoopers, was from band, and played the clarinet. Rather little information discovered considering that there was 2 over hours for me to find out more. (haha) The 12am to 2am shift however was madness - I was left alone in my rather sleepy state, and time seemed to take forever to pass: it was the dead of night, and barely any cars drove in (it is however a wonder that cars would be entering at 1.30am, but they did). The consolation was that because it was so late, the sergeant at the guard house wasn't so strict about the 'no sitting' rule, and the table and I became one for quite a while. This was what I did in the guard post: for 2 hours or so, I would press a button whenever a vehicle wanted to enter the camp - that button activated the barricade, opening/closing it.

29.06.12 We returned at around 8am in the morning following our guard duty, and I was really tired from it. I slept till about 10am - one of the perks of doing guard duty is that you get to skip training; no strength training, no run for me. I guess God works in this way; had it not been for guard duty, had I been made to attend those training, my legs would have hurt even more (they were aching from the gym training the other day).

This was also the day that I left to find out the results of the medical assessment. I left the camp at 1.00pm (by the insistence of a sergeant, I had targeted to leave by 1.30pm), so I missed some sort of marching practice - apparently all of us had to be well acquainted with the respective marching commands for we were to participate in the battalion's 50th anniversary celebrations. I reached the clinic at around 2.30pm after meeting up with my dad, and there was a long waiting time before I got the news. everything was good, except that I may be anemic (apparently my hemoglobin count was a little low - it was rather odd when the doctor asked me if I was a vegetarian, another blood test a few months down would be needed to confirm that), that my (bad) breathing techniques may be to blame for a moderately severe breathing restriction that was picked up (though if I genuinely were anemic, then that might be to blame as well), and that my back is mildly curved to the right. Nothing sufficient (at the moment) to. I'll cut myself short here.

No, I wasn't happy with the diagnosis, it didn't meet my short term goals. But yet I must thank the Lord that I am, by and large, healthy - that is an enviable position for many worldwide. I won't deny that my mood was quite soured by that, and it was hard to praise God, even though He deserved it.

Just before 5.30pm, I returned to camp, at the advice of whoever who answered the COY's phone line. It was really lousy advice - everyone was preparing to leave when I returned, in essence, I had returned to camp, just to leave for Friday's nights out in another half an hour. Oh well, at least I was leaving for a nights out, at least I had most of the day spent out of camp - what right do I have to complain so much.

30.06.12 In yet another installment of our NDP duties, we returned to Raffles Boulevard to set-up and man the road closures. This time around, my section was doing the afternoon shift - that left the morning free. Along with YL and JW, I went to Hans at Marina Square for breakfast, as well as spend some time reading Paulo Coelho's Aleph, which Ansen had given me a few months back.

About Aleph: I don't really enjoy the book (I'm close to finishing it). Unlike The Alchemist, this novel is passed off as an recollection of Mr Coelho's spiritual experiences, and honestly, it felt really ludicrous. Looking at some reviews online, I realise that the view I hold isn't exclusive.

But I digress. This time around, our shift was one and a half hours long, and because of the humidity caused by a rain just prior to my shift, it was made quite difficult (I was sweating rather profusely). I did my shift from 3pm to 5.30pm without YL (we had planned to do it together so as to go for dinner afterwards) because of some switching around.

Because of the switch, dinner was spent with others. I tried to eat the food they provided this time around, but gosh, it wasn't very good, plus it was expired (packed food isn't supposed to be served after 4 hours). Nevertheless, I ate a bit of it, before heading off with someone to eat at Millenia Walk.

On a side note, I have 5 tickets to this coming Saturday's NDP rehearsal, which I plan on going with my family, should they want to.

I'll be returning to camp later on tonight after a really good 3 days of rest (Sunday to Tuesday), and I just hope that I will rely on the Lord for strength and guidance for the upcoming 4 days.

Be with me, O Lord.

By Galen Yeo, published in Today, 3 July.

As a Singaporean, I am less concerned about the ongoing discussions of who serves national service. I am far more concerned about the institution of National Service (NS) itself.

Most people I know have never seen NS as a productive use of a person's time. But the Singapore Armed Forces (SAF) - or any army anywhere - has never had the need to address this issue.

Even today, NS is still regarded as a necessary evil. No one disagrees about the necessity of Total Defence, but people wonder how their sons will positively benefit from it.

Traditionally, conscription has never been about improving the individual. It has always been about serving the nation in an absolute fashion.

But can this process be fine-tuned in Singapore?

The real challenge for Singapore is not merely holding up the need for NS. It is in balancing our defence needs with the competitive demands of a global world.

To address this, NS needs to be a more well-rounded experience for the individual.It

needs to specifically develop people not just as conscripted soldiers, but as well-developed individuals ready to face the world once they leave the SAF.

It needs to enable the army experience to be relevant to the real world, and not exist as an entirely separate institution.

The United States Army offers a myriad of educational opportunities for soldiers to upgrade themselves while serving their obligations. I strongly support measures along those lines.

How many hours in a day do we need to run an army? Could time be better managed and organised for NSmen?

Why do NSmen have to take their own initiative to keep themselves upgraded - and why doesn't the SAF recognise this as a real concern and address this?

No one wants to be left out in the real world and the SAF could provide so much more to equip our young men with the skills they need to carry on during their NS experience. (And I'm not talking about training tech-savvy soldiers to operate iPads.)

The SAF is the single biggest developer of people, hence the possibilities for development in areas of education and life training are enormous. It could potentially arm NS men with far more skills than their roles as soldiers.

As an employer, I would like to get excited about hiring someone who has completed NS, instead of staring at the rift in his education and development.

Our guys already have to play catch-up with everyone else, so why not enable them to close the gap while in NS - instead of widening it because of NS. The two goals of development and running an army do not have to be exclusive of each other.

The entire paradigm of NS has been shaped from the top and it has been our sacred cow.

But external realities of our global world suggest that Singapore has to do more - and NS presents the perfect opportunity to empower Singaporeans at a ripe age.

I suppose my time in NS has made me more acutely aware of the issues that surround it. Reading this letter this morning (in the print edition) led me to think, "wow, this guy really does get it", and he bothers to speak up about it.

"Traditionally, conscription has never been about improving the individual. It has always been about serving the nation in an absolute fashion."

I've always been rather bitter about the fact that two (long) years of my life would be spent doing something that I had little interest in - in essence, it would be a waste of my time. But as Mr Yeo has put it, it is an opportunity cost whose incursion is not unmerited, albeit it is one that I would rather not have to bear.

While there are exceptions where the military does invest into the development of its staff (like courses for regulars, medical training for medics etc.), Mr Yeo's view remains quite accurate, especially for the bulk of those posted to units. For many, the only learning point they gain in the course of their service is how to make the best of the (often less than optimistic) situation they are in - sometimes with rather hilarious, jeopardous or even morally questionable methods.

The military is said, in Singaporean society to be a glue that bonds people from all walks of life. But social divisions still exists (social inequality is one such reason), and tempers still flare as a result of that. Two years is not a short duration, and it can be used to address one of the chief causes of social inequality - education. That is the key to empowering individuals, that is the key to surviving in the challenging world that lay ahead of one's youth.

"But external realities of our global world suggest that Singapore has to do more - and NS presents the perfect opportunity to empower Singaporeans at a ripe age."

It would be interesting to see how the SAF would respond to Mr Yeo's letter, on whether they would diverge from their template responses.

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.

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.

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!