memoir

the boys learnt of the imminent, as early as a year ago. that year, they had time to mull over their future, and maybe take action for (or against) it. but, no amount of preparation can take away their apprehension for what was to come.

the surrender of their two years to their country. for those two years, they will be reined by the inescapable arms of the constitution, compelled to submit, unwillingly for most.

and then the two years began, with their entry into an island even smaller than the mainland. all food and accommodation paid for nine whole weeks. they'd rather pay to be elsewhere, of course.

the boys did not know what to expect. fearing, perhaps even loathing, everything: the people, the system, the new life.

three weeks. confined within the recesses of a clearing within thick, untouched jungle. in only three weeks, they experienced the toughest transition in their lives.

some were high fliers in the academic and working realm. some experienced the pleasurable life, complete with a mane, clothes to go with and girls to top it all off. some were happily holing themselves at home, cemented in front of the computer or encircled by mountains of books, a la hermits. whatever their background, they were the same as soon as they underwent the symbolic haircut. the last time most had such a hairdo was when they were infants. gone were their flashy clothes, they either wore spartan shirts and folded their socks like schoolkids do in elementary school, or green spotted outfits that could fade into the jungle which surrounded their surrogate homes.

every day, they were under the watch of superiors, who would physically punish them for any misbehaviour, however trivial it may be. the strictness of it all was unparalleled by anything else they had encountered.

with an aching in their muscles and heart alike, many confided in their loved ones, who were living across the straits or overseas, covertly over the phone, which was the only means of reaching out to the world outside.

what was to become of them in the following weeks on the island, they thought? much less how to survive two years. why are they here, in this god forsaken place. why.

everything they did was challenging. receiving and carrying out demands from the superiors, executing commands to manoeuvre the marching group, waking up and gathering before the sun even takes a peek at them.

especially arduous was their six-day jungle experience. six days spent crawling, running, sleeping (and alternate leg thrust-ing) on mud and plants is no doubt a distasteful experience for the boys who were accustomed to being pampered with a luxurious car to be chauffeured in by day and a large soft mattress and air-conditioning by night. many shed tears, some belched.

fortunately, the boys were entitled to return to their rightful place in the mainland every weekend. the precious weekend was spent mostly on healing and rejuvenating the wounded, tired soul, be it in the company of their newfound comrades or their beloved family and soulmate.

the weekly cycle carried on for nine weeks. and finally it was time. the final trip out of the island. their parents watched them with pride as they marched smartly in the parade.

they somehow did it. the boys became warrior men. they will remember those days of their lives, their infancy in the organisation we call the army.

remembering the spartan warriors of 04/07 batch, zulu company platoon three.

***

to my platoon: thanks for the experiences we shared together. it is especially heartening to know that i have changed some of you, or made your bmt experience much more bearable. and it's touching to unbashedly introduce me to your parents during graduation parade (sorry boxun for excusing myself immediately after the introduction, was helping 2IC with something then) or repeatedly proclaiming i'm your favourite sergeant. you guys make me feel i achieved more than my worth :) geez.

anyway, you people have been more than mere recruits to me from the start, seriously. maybe i treat all of you too civically, but each of you are a person, a human being, after all. and i'll try to act upon your appraisals and improve myself as a commander :)) all the best to your future, whichever path you take. it's alright if you forget me, but do honour yourself, family and friends in whatever you do.