it's been a busy year for me thus far, much of my time had been spent in the army, and really, this is the first time since the turn of the year that i've had a chance to slow down, recharge and reflect.
it feels surreal, crazy, that after all this time, i've got just about 9 weeks more to go, or about the period of bmt left to endure before this chapter of my life, this, rite of passage for all singaporean males is done with. and then i'd be moving on to university, back to my studies, back to the civilian world where no doubt, i'll be challenged with new obstacles to overcome, new mountains to conquer; the communal living of sleeping in bunks, sharing toilets, having meals together, moving out on missions, even getting into quarrels because of our individual quirks, all but a fond memory, to be revisited, perhaps, every in-camp training.
some of us will keep in contact with one another, others would go their own ways and we may never meet again. but that is just the cycle of life - one chapter ends and a new one begins: a season for everything.
there was a season when i was a recruit, then a cadet. it took me time to get used to life in the army, the discipline, the regimentation. i told my sitest assessor that i would not want to be considered for ocs, because i would feel like a hypocrite to stand in front of others and command them to do things that i so deeply loathed.
so i went to scs, where things got easier, and i thought to do my best and see how things unfold. things got easier only because of the friends made since bmt, the people who would step forwards and give you a hand even when no one is watching (all the wayangs have gone to ocs perhaps), the ones who would crack silly jokes when i walked into bunk downcast on sunday nights. i seriously considered going to the pti selections then, but nope, at last parade one fine evening, my name was read out to go for the interview to be a scout in 3 SIR. out of over a thousand cadets, it so happened that my named turned up.
and the thing about such interviews is that, should you express an interest in the said vocation, you're in. express non-interest, and chances are, you're still in.
hence, i was posted to 3 SIR as a scout.
next up was driving course, but it was actually more about anger management, then learning to drive. still, i passed on my second attempt, made peace with my instructor (he told me after my test that he had always known that i can drive, that his admonishments were to keep me from becoming complacent - like that also can?) and all was well.
then at recce commander's course (rcc), the unthinkable happened. for the first time in my life, i witnessed death so personally.
i'd lost an uncle earlier in the year, an uncle who was never shy to show his affection towards me, who always appeared filled with vitality, a fighter, who beat this throat cancer once already but finally succumbed to a relapse.
i remember being at his funeral thinking, what is life, that at the end of it, a man who lived so large, was shrunk into a box 6 feet long and 20 inches wide? all his victories, all his defeats null. all his words and booming laughter silenced - his existence - void.
i lost a friend at rcc, was put out of course for it, then placed back into course after an apology. but all that didn't really matter to me then. all that was going through my mind was that my friend had passed on.
i broke down in a manner that i had not done so i a long long time at his funeral. the moment the hearse bearing his picture - smiling, looking proud and handsome - i crumbled. the unkind manner that i spoke to him just before he passed on, the way he put up with my tandrums, the way he pushed on so as to not be a liability to us all, everything came flooding back in that instance, the loss, the guilt, the feeling of my heart sinking when i first heard of the news, the knot in my heart that makes it difficult to breathe, the shame when people tell me that it isn't my fault, all these emotions came flooding into my conciousness and i wept bitterly.
the soldiers' salutes, the trumpet's lament, the guns firing, and it was over. a life, gone, just like that, concluded within 2 hours.
and this changed the interpretation of my role as a commander radically. my job is not to be the best leader of the best team there is. my job is to get my guys in and out safely. that's all. all that notion about nation about a greater good, about glory and honour - they mean nothing when a life is lost.
and it was when i truly understood the final lines of a poem that i learnt back in secondary school:
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori
after that, i proceeded to fall, and hurt my thumb in rcc, when through the course with an injured left thumb, graduated, got promoted, before i finally had my thumb checked out. turned out, i had torn my ligament, and i required surgery, which would have meant also a review in pes status. refused surgery, but had my hand placed in a cast for 6 weeks, and miraculously, my thumb mended (thank God) and so it was back to the battalion, back outfield. and then, the troopers came in.
it really is true when people say that you are never truly a leader until you have men under you. all those "leadership" lessons in command school went out of the window. instead, we had to learn to cajole, command and convict these peers of ours. it really is a humbling experience working with these guys, because of the love and respect they show you, even when they absolutely don't have to.
as much as being in a unit sucks, working with the rest of the specs, going through the same nonsense together, whining, being mischievous and smart asses together as well as working with the troopers must be the two most enjoyable experiences i have in 3 SIR.
then it was preparation for recce course with the troopers and of course, recce course with the troopers, where my team was named best tactical team (how did that happen), and myself best soldier of the month (how did that happen X2).
rotation one followed, and then it was army open house.
army open house is special for a few reasons.
for some reason unbeknownst to all of us, i was chosen to do the d3 show. i was attached out from my company which was doing marshalling and the likes to alpha, where i got a chance to meet and know so many people whom i either did not know well, or did not know at all.
significantly, i got to work, and interact with the riflemen, who like my own guys, without the burden of the rank upon their chests, without the incentive of getting to go to command school, without any evident reason for them to work so hard, i witnessed them go out of their way to get their job done well. i was touched by their willingness to teach me, a scout, their room clearing drills, drills that i had learnt in basic training, but forgotten.
everything, every single step on the contorted and winding path that i've taken have led me all the way here: to where i am today.
from me not going to ocs, not getting into afc to be a pti, to me being one of the 14 out of more than a thousand cadets being posted to 3 SIR as a scout. to me being put out of course, then placed back in, to an injured thumb that could easily have saw me placed out of course again. to the miraculous healing of my thumb surprising even the doctors, to the troopers who were placed in my team, the ones who did so very well that earned us the best tactical team. to me hurting my ankle just a few weeks before the summery exercise of the recce course, with my ankle healing just in time for me to take part, and achieve the best tactical team. then, being named best soldier, most likely because of the brilliance of my troopers and finally, aoh.
so i'm thankful, for everything. for the things that didn't go "according to plan" when i didn't get the pti posting that i so wanted, for the things that went well and "according to plan", for the things that astounded everyone. every single moment has brought me here.
what a journey it has been, and hell, there're still 9 more weeks to go.