Dearest Dad,

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

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

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

I love you Dad. Happy Father's Day.

Quite a decent place for dinner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

13.06.12 - 15.06.12

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

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

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

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

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

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

Image Credit: Serie Architects

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

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

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

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

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

04.06.12

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

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

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

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

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

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

05.06.12

Loneliness is an absolute discovery

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

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

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

06.06.12

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

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

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

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

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

07.06.12

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

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

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

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

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

Image Credit: Iwan Baan & Dezeen

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

Image Credit: Masaya Yoshimura & Designboom

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

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

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

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

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

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

God can do anything, but would He?

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

31.05.12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"oh God I believe, please help me believe"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah 43:1, 3 -

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

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

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

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

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

23.05.12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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