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Saturday, June 30, 2007
[That night...]
My previous post was written when my brain was in desperate need of sleep, coupled with my body being loaded with Paracetamol and Pseudo-ephedrine HCL. As I read it again, I can't remember exactly what was I thinking when I wrote some of it, or what I meant.
This morning, I saw this message on my platoon mate's MSN: 那生不如死的夜晚. Translated, it means "the night I rather be dead than alive", or something like that. It's hard to capture the essence of some Chinese words/phrases in English.
What he was talking about was one of the nights we spent out in the field. I won't describe all of it, that would be boring. Just the highlights.
The 3 day/2 night exercise was our first in about 4 years (possibly more, since we had our ATEC real early when we were NSFs and that was the end of outfield for us). We moved out on Monday and I wasn't feeling too well and was fighting a throat infection since last Thursday. It may not sound like much in the real world but when you're outfield with not much to eat or drink and the environment is real dusty (armour unit/vehicles, so you can imagine), a sore throat was all you can think about.
And about the not-having-enough-to-eat-or-drink thing...Okay, so there were tons to eat, seeing how we brought tons of canned food. But I don't like eating fresh/canned food outfield because you'd need to take a dump if you ate too much. I only eat biscuits (which I couldn't now due to my sore throat) and combat rations. I was told that they add something in the combat rations so that after eating them, you'd get constipated and didn't have to poop.
Which brings me to another point: Combat rations have VASTLY improved. We have Oreos, Chipsmore, canned Milo and Nescafe now. Even biscuits with peanut butter. And cans of tuna. And best of all...M&Ms! No, I'm not bullshitting you, it's true. Melts in your mouth, not in your field-pack.
Main courses have improved as well. The "legendary" braised duck rice is gone. The menu is mostly made up of pasta and glutinous rice dishes now. Both okay to consume without heating them up. I actually finished an entire pack of chicken pasta. I can't remember the last time I ate an entire serving of combat rations. I usually eat to the point before I throw up (cause it tastes so bad) or till I feel the strength returning to my legs.
Okay, enough of the food. On our first night, the unthinkable happened: It rained. It really rained. Thunder, lightning, the works. It was like Armageddon.
As anyone who's been through NS would tell you, rain is a soldier's worst nightmare while outfield, short of losing your weapon. We couldn't all fit into our small OWS M113 and some had to take turns getting soaked. Coupled with the millions of mosquitoes buzzing around us the entire night, and how sitting in the cramped vehicle made my lower back hurt so bad tears nearly rolled down my face (it really hurt, I was grinding my teeth the whole time), it was probably one of the worst nights of my life.
My friend who came up with that message on his MSN said that there's no way we could describe in words to people how that night was without them actually experiencing it. I couldn't agree more. 10 hours of hell compressed into 1 paragraph. Doesn't do the experience justice. It was so bad, some of us would rather be dead. I couldn't wait for the sun to rise.
Day 2. Two guys from my vehicle had to leave to receive medical attention. My throat was really bothering me so I thought I'd tag along and try to get some antibiotics. All I got was some lozenges which my platoon-mate who's studying Pharmacy said was totally useless. I then got to sit and bake in a tonner for 7 hours before getting a ride back to my company. I learnt something in that 7 hours: It's better to have a hard time with people you know, than to sit on your butt with people you don't know. A message to the guys in the tonner from S1 branch: You're all wankers. Most of you are wankers.
We had our coastal hook mission on the second night/third day. Remember the opening battle scene on Saving Private Ryan? It's something like that, just not as cool. We ditched our armoured vehicles and sat in a boat for what seemed like eternity before we landed to continue our mission. Someone on the boat peed into the sea, which was funny.
After we landed, we walked for about an hour. I was carrying my GPMG. When I was an NSF, I once bashed in the forest for 11 hours with that 14kg piece of metal. I nearly passed out after walking on a track and bashing in the forest for roughly an hour, as did all the other gunners this time round. We weren't the same men we were 4 years ago.
My first outfield exercise in 4 years, and I survived.
Yesterday was out-process day. The day we get to leave it all behind again for one year until our next call-up. Last year, we fucked it up and was the last company to leave. The commanders and some of the men worked hard to be the first this time round. We did it, and was the first company to out-process. In fact, my friend who came up with that Chinese phrase was the first person of our battalion to be out-processed.
But it didn't come easy. We had a scare. One of us lost his ICT pass. We hunted high and low, and even went through the bags of rubbish at the dump, looking for it. Losing it means a fine (no big deal), but a police report has to be made and a lot of paperwork has to be done, which means a later out-process timing.
We finally found it in someone's bag. He packed it in by mistake. 
^^^ by Locksley @ 3:13 PM.
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