Hell Week

2004-02-25 9:46 p.m.

The official name of the 15 days of physical and mental torture is called training, but I christened it “Hell Week”, even thought it was longer than seven days. CH and Lucas can’t say that I ‘m not going through any form of physical training after they read this. Ok, on second thoughts, what I went through was nothing compared to field camp in Tekong or route marches. Still, let’s see what happened from the 11th to the 25th of February 2004.

11th of February: At 2230 hr I reported back to camp, ready to spend the night sleeping on the hard stone floor. Well, maybe not the floor, after I found a place on the conference room table. Sleep was not the first thing to do, not with my vocation. No, I had to spend at least two hours double checking that every single piece of equipment (that was to be brought to the other camp the next day) with my Sergeant. Digital Camera, Maps of the Live Firing area, labtops, a printer and a whole lot of classified documents. After that, lights out. Well, I declared lights out for myself and tried my best to find comfort on a wooden table with a small cushion and a ten year old sleeping bag. The rest busied themselves with some computer games. At 0030, they tried to force me out of the room so that they could utilize it but I stood my ground. No way, I said, you’re not chasing me out, or you’ll have a non functional recruit in the morning. A small argument broke out, but my sergeant settled the matter. So sleep came at around 0145, but it was not a peaceful one. How could they have the energy to play all night long, I thought, still hearing the cacophony of sounds from the other room. I used to be able to do that in secondary school, but times have changed.

12th of February: Woke up at 0445 although the official time to rise was 0500. The early bird gets is worm has been my maxim since JC 1 and in this case the worm was beating the others to the washroom and getting everything packed. Breakfast was evidently missing in the room, so I gobbled down a few slices of the cake that I brought and brought my bags out to the five ton truck. Then I shuttled back and forth, loading crates, boxes, maps and a whole host of other stuff. Climbing the truck was like climbing over a stone wall with the exception that there’s a handle and two steps to help you up. Simple for those who have long legs and strong arms, slightly harder for those who are of a smaller built. Still, it wasn’t that hard for me. By 0530, we were off.

Now I’ve been in sports cars and station wagons but never tried a five ton truck before. The minute the engine started, you would think you were in the stomach of an elephant. The noise was bearable after a while, but when we reach the highway the fun started. I could see why the traffic police made so much of a fuss over wearing seat belts when we were jerked up and down every few seconds. Ok, there were seat belts, but most of us found it easier to grab on to the seat rather than to clip the rusty belts. Those sitting near the opening had the most precarious position and gripping on to an extra strap did not look any more reassuring. Surprisingly, the store men—a rowdy bunch—were enjoying it and were the only ones who stay awake through the whole journey. A part of me was saying to find a place and sleep when I reached the other camp, another part was telling me not to forsake my duty.

Finally we were deposited at our new camp, near the west side of Singapore. Here, 30 or 40 year old men return to their camouflage uniforms and try their best to remember what a soldier has to do. The Shed downstairs was the first destination, but that was for the manpower branch to handle. I accidentally left my bag there but it was too late as I had to hustle to the Brigade Admin Room. Due to a small request, I found myself sitting in the front of the truck—which they called a tonner—and it was many times better. At 0645 I was given the responsibility of three rooms. “Stay here, we’re going back to the Shed…its best you stay because we’re going to get scolded”. I could only give a sleepy nod before they disappeared. Sleep still beckoned but first thing to be done was to explore the place—you know I always do that. Decade old air conditioning units, outdated computer, dusty chairs, dust filled windows…I wondered how we were going to survive. The air was too stagnant so I dragged a chair out and slept in the corridor.

The stamping of feet jolted me out of my slumber. Men, unshaven, long haired with dejected looks were lining up downstairs. Welcome back to the army I wanted to say, but thought better of it. At 0900, the room came alive with the arrival of the other clerks. The rest of the day saw me familiarizing myself with the layout of the camp, banging a photocopying machine which simply won’t work and catching naps when I could. My exercise for the day was running between buildings, ferrying notes. Lethargic could just sum up my state at that point. I took a small break and gained some words of comfort from Amandae who told me to take it The NS men coming back were a far cry from the disciplined regulars I met. Their uniforms weren’t always dark green—some look as if they bleached by unknown chemicals. The officers didn’t bother to reprimand you if you didn’t address them as “sir”. For a large portion of them, their main concern was where am I posted to (since they were transferred from elsewhere) or I lost this item what do I do. Everything ended officially around 1700, but debriefing dragged on till 1830. Back to the vehicle was the order. By that time my uniform was sticky with paint stuck to my pants. I made a mental note to buy the No. 4 uniform, which looked so much more comfortable and stains weren’t that visible on it. Anyway, traveling back in the vehicle was like traveling in an armoured personnel carrier or a main battle tank—minus the sound of shooting.

13th Of February: The night before saw me without sleep and with more things to pack and check. It looked like we were head off for war if you didn’t know what were carrying. The metal chests looked like ammunition crates and the coil of plastic looked like an anti tank weapon or thereabouts. At that camp, I got into an argument which is best not mentioned here. The whole day was terrible, but what else do you expect to happen on Friday the thirteenth? At least I got to return home for a proper shower and sleep. Everyone else is suffering ten times more than you are, I kept telling myself at night. Fine, but its hard to picture that when you’re the only NJ person in the unit.

14th of February: Valentines Day was not a time to celebrate at that run down camp. IPPT was what I handled on that day. For the uninitiated, it’s the SAF version of the school’s Physical Fitness Test, minus the sit and reach station. We found ourselves keying in results and it was tremendous fun. Many a time you would discover that so and so has a knee injury and is excused for his 2.4 run or one has a back injury and therefore did not perform sit ups. Yeah, that was it for the morning. Stayed past three as I was duty clerk for the day and took a few phone calls. Then my Lieutenant gave me a ride to the bus stop.

15thand 16th of February: was suppose to return to Nee Soon to stay over night again but felt unwell so I took and MC for Sunday and Monday. Monday was the Change of Command for the unit that was doing the training, but I already did my part by editing the picture for the presentation. Felt much better on Monday evening and talked to Amandae across the net on both days. Got a sort of better understanding of life and some words of support.

17th of February: Another day that didn’t go my way. Stuck with the ops branch and learned more about drawing zones on maps for the live firing. .

18th of February: The rest of the day was spent running between buildings and taking phone calls. It had to be me to answer the phone as the other recruit gave a sort of inappropriate response whenever he took a call. . The afternoon was slightly more interesting. I got to handle Singapore’s own assault rifle, the SAR 21. Well, just touched it and stuck my finger in the barrel. Luckily, the weapon was not loaded. Then, a present for the Ops branch came in the afternoon. Two range finding Binoculars, two GPS receivers and two proper (yes proper) magnetic compass. Standard field equipment I was told but it was amazing as you don’t get to handle such high tech stuff all the time as a clerk. Sign here, the store men told us, and if anything gets broken it’s your head. I however, was already fiddling with the compass. Learn how to read it but everything was measured in mils instead of degrees.

I found another opportunity to play with the priceless equipment which was in the evening. (As duty clerk, you are suppose to stay overnight although it’s highly unlikely that anyone would call after 7). The binoculars was my first target, and it was to use slang, “cool”, although I couldn’t figure out how to measure the distance between me and an object. The GPS receivers had batteries with them, but I decided not load them. Maybe I should have, given that it was something really new to me.

19th of February: One of the perks as a duty clerk is that you get to go home at 12 noon the following day. Which is exactly what I did after asking permission of course. Sleeping at camp was slightly better than the conference room table back at Nee Soon as the floor was carpeted. One could actually live in the office because there was an endless supply of green tea bags and Lipton tea bags and food—which was supplied by me. Maybe its not like sleeping in the jungle waiting for mosquitoes to attack you or standing in a pool of mud, but it’s a far cry from what a clerk should be doing. I gave Lieutenant Sim a ride to the MRT station and joked with him that he should give me his lieutenant bars instead. Negative was the reply. Ok, how about your marksman’s badge sir I asked politely. Laughter ensued. Somehow, all the junior officers are the friendliest in every unit you go. A small break from this hell week was what I wanted so I went out with Amandae in the evening. (Read the next entry)

20th of February: Return to my own camp can be the title. The place seemed like heaven after what I've been through. The day was hectic, working on IPPT reports, answering calls and mistaking identities of voices across the line. Even though “Hell week” was winding down, everyone was still stressed out. The one main thing I remembered was that I locked and unlocked the main cabinet at least fifty times during the day. Such is the life when you work with classified material and expensive items.

21st of February: The slackest day of the week, to put it in colloquial terms. Came in sat around for fours hours and left. No wonder I could go to the Fun O Rama.

22nd Of February: Rest day. NO need to explain. Understood that CH has returned to civilization after seeing nothing but leaves all around. Well, I’ve been fighting in a concrete jungle if there’s any comfort. Good luck guys, for the remainder of BMT.

23rd of February: Back to camp again. Anyway, the day started with me ordering three reservists around.

That’s it.

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