Tuesday, March 13, 2007

It's over.

It's amazing, but I have absolute nothing to say about the army. I could regale all three of my blog readers with stories of how I miraculously avoided having my asshole decimated by some rather fruity recruits in a neighbouring bunk, how we have a 25-year-old with all the maturity and intelligence of a five-year-old and about half as much common sense, or how I didn't know we were shooting live rounds at the range till the end of the day, but the army has to be looked at as a holistic experience, rather than a string of isolated incidents.

Somehow, though, you just have to look at things that happen and curse under your breath.

Like how it almost never rains at Pulau Tekong, only to have it rain continously for two days at field camp. Lucky for me I didn't have to sleep in the disaster masquerading as a tent I built. I don't think tents are supposed to act as emergency water basins, right?

Or how the only other time it rained heavily was on POP day. How embarassing for the poor guys in the parade square. I mean, I don't want my parents coming to see their son as a speck in the crowd, or a stalk in a broccoli. Running and screaming randomly doesn't exactly help matters either.

I don't think I'll ever forget about BMT, even if it was like a holiday camp without any highly-vaunted trials by fire. Besides, I'll only get to be a caho recruit once in my life.

I wonder where I'll be posted to next.


On a somewhat unrelated note, I am still unable to reach a veritable conclusion at my A level results. As it turns out, I'm not the artsy-fartsy Terry-Pratchett-understudy I thought I was. Hmmm.


With every end comes a new beginning.

But with every new beginning, it means something has ended.


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