it's been a harrowing 13-week stint in tekong and i've since remarkably passed out in one (darker and well, some say veinier)  piece. so this is traditionally the time where sentimentality
starts kicking in. where out, proud and full-fledged privates* start waxing lyrical about
camaraderie forged during tough times on the wretched little island. haa. but you all know i'm never going to do that. reality check. it just doesn't seem right to go all teary-eyed reminiscing 
the centipede once found in my cookhouse* breakfast and the ghastly groin abrasions courtesy of utterly pointless 24km route marches*. so to preserve the integrity of this blog, banal army 
terms the likes of 'camaraderie', 'half-left-down*' and 'pop lo!' shall be self-censored from this point onwards.

i know, i know, too much cynicism is bad for health. what's pop* without a few positively reflective thoughts about personal growth and friendships forged right? so here's a tribute to a number of people who have in one way or another made life in bmt tolerable (though still not likeable) for me in the past 13 weeks. some of these platoon mates really have big hearts, though it's regrettable that it seems highly likely that our journey with one another probably ends right
here. i daresay that we would've been much closer had our relationships not been set in the army context. unfortunate? maybe. but hey, that's how life goes. how close can you expect people to grow towards each other within a span of a mere 13 weeks?







lucas lim hong er. spontaneous dancer and wonderful route march buddy. though the latter is pretty much a one-sided parasitic sort of relationship (haa sorry!) im really indebted towards you and nikman for helping me pull through every single route march. you guys were never obliged to do it. so that's double the nobleness.







shawn lee jin bin. true-blue acs-bred banana and joker of the bunk. never mind if the comments 
have always got something to do with my very cutely diminutive frame. at least they're hilarious unlike the tragically lame offerings by mr blame-in-on-the-world in the vicinity. (still can't help but roll my eyeballs upside-down, inside-out million times over - is there really humour to be found in repeating 'don't give me that shag face' 439459430 times over? totally perplexing.) 
it's been nice hearing you attempt the SAF 7 core values* in mandarin, really.







jeremy chng jia hao. job-blower lee's best partner in action with an almost identical brand of hilariously vulgar humour. gives new meaning to the phrase 'mandarin-impaired'. (on a sidenote, mandarin-impaired people are really funny and endearing) thanks for the fun and laughter.







tan guang ting ryan. most inclined to dig nose, eat up mucus, or dispense mash potato out of the 
mouth like a mash potato machine - in other words, same-frequency. haha. only other insane species that takes higher chinese at A levels as well. can't stand mr blame-it-on-the-world too, i think. :D







from left to right: sebastian markus lieowanta who unfortunately lost a rifle magazine*(!!), the aforementioned lucas lim hong er, 3SG samuel chan - who comes closest to debunking the harsh brash sergeant stereotype and jonathan tan jing en, a nice vj guy i wish i
got to know better







shaikh fahmy. meticulous toilet cleaner who proved his worth by bringing in a humongous mop-like thing by the very first book-in. really really nice and mild-tempered guy ironically prone to occassional sudden outbursts. (he let out a 94494 decibil scream in the toilet on pop day at 7am because he 'felt like it') hahaha.







david chakarvathy judah. platoon tallest and also the bed buddy of the platoon shortest. (yes, no one measures shorter than 162cm in the platoon so shut up already) often misunderstood and maligned if not backstabbed by mr blame-it-on-the world, but i still think you're a nice guy underneath the cocksterish facade. haa. it's just that a lanky 188cm-frame and chocolate shade skin tone are somewhat lethal combinations that make it more instinctive for platoon sergeants to pick on you rather than the average 168cm-want-to-go-ocs joes. cheers. 







and last but (not?) least... the sergeants/sir. enough said right? ok la, they can be pretty... nice at times... (if you insist that everything about this post-pop post must be somewhat positively 
reflective...)

perhaps the most regrettable thing on pop day was not being able to snap a pic with the very spasticated, chipped-toothed muhammed nikman bin karim. i feel like ive been indebted to him ever since he helped me lift his fieldpack during the 12km routemarch AND the 4km fast march. plus he has an adorably contorted face that fits in well with the general photo code of this blog.

something like this?







well, at least i tried to bring out the essence of nikman - extra large pupils and out-and-proud chipped tooth. heh. sorry, never been too ardent an MS paint fan you see. you know, the sort 
that sprays colourful friends forever slogans and random teardrops onto already grossly indecent wide-eyed photos.

and 2LT md dzulkifli too. arguably the only commander that has garnered my respect during 
my 13 week stint in mohawk company. (ok, so now you know, it's mohawk - so i didn't pop in one piece only because i landed up in pegasus coy)

so like gf, on the 23rd, as i sit in front of the computer with a champagne bottle on my left (come "your next vocation is service medic!" and jacknife/anti-malaria pills on my right (come "your next vocation is armourman!"), the next chapter of my harrowing NS stint unfolds right in front of my eyes. and though i know i aint lucky enough to possess some mysterious-sounding-but-not-very-life-threatening medical condition that will warrant me an 8-5 vocation, i still cross my fingers and toes in hope that i'll meet some really great people come the next phase of unit life. and it is only when this second and final and also very lengthy phase of my ns life ends that i
will truly experience the elation felt by my platoonmates the moment they threw their jockey caps on pop day.

no, i didn't even bother tossing my cap up high. don't need to act like NS is over. (army) life still goes on.

for your reference,
an idiot's guide to irritating army jargons:

pop (passing out parade)
a rite of passage where recruits who've been through alot of bmt shit graduate and move on
to handle even more shit at unit/command school, unless of course, the recruit is afflicted with 
some mysterious-and-serious-sounding-but-fortunately-not-very-life-threatening medical condition that will land his ass on some 8-5 clerk-medic-storeman vocation.

privates
a term used to address freshly pop-ed nsmen. a rank higher than recruit but realistically speaking, equally lowly and inferior.

24km route march
a treacherous 24km march around the monotonous tekong island complete with a 15kg+ field pack on the shoulders . they say it's needed because infantry troops need to be trained to walk long distances. but whoever in the right state of mind brings the likes of basha sticks,  shoe kiwi and bootlaces to war?!

half-left-down
a favourite and not to mention classic punishment applicable to almost any other offence committed. sample offences include dripping 2ml worth of water onto the ground during water parades (wasting water is a heinous crime), calling the monkey bar-looking 'swing trainer' a monkey bar and twitching an eyelid while standing in a file. oh, basically half-left-down means to turn to your half left, arch your arms against the ground and to start dry humping it. 
it's as exhausting as the real thing, just a tad more nonsensical and less yearned for. 

SAF 7 core values
the 7 core values include oppression, monotony, profanity, oops, i mean, loyalty to country, leadership, discipline, professionalism, fighting spirit, ethics and care for soldiers. it's something like those oh so awe-inspiring school missions and visions (as if they make a difference) like passion! purpose! drive!, you know. it is mandatory for us to recite these seven guiding core values everytime before we drink water. no, im serious.

till then.