This is my story...

Monday, June 27, 2005

It's a Monday night. Yeah. School reopens and once again the traffic will be full of cars with parents fetching their students jamming the roads and cause workers like us to be late, then sign extra. Sad.

Tomorrow's Tuesday.

DUH.

Ok. I have to stop my insatiable habit of spouting vulgarities like punctuation marks of a sentence. Yeah it's true! I am gonna stop that! Please bear with me....

If not my mouth will get sewed by our beloved fairy.... oh ya.. WHERE ARE YOU?!?!? lol

My buddy has gone OOC (Out of Course). That means I am all alone learning and fixing rifles and all that, unless they assign me to a 3-men group. Yeah. Chicken pox. Nice time to have them...

And by the way I haven't got any chicken pox yet. Maybe I will get is sooner or later, or never.

Another day just passed by without the presence of you in my eyes. But your presence is always felt in my heart, as always.

Rambled by kaSh at 11:06 pm

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Ok let's see. I will be learning 13 different types of rifles for the whole of next 8 weeks.

8 weeks is a very short time. Just like I am already 19 this year, and I am turning 20 the next, then 21 the year after and so on.

Yeah. Birthdays are fun. It will be more fun if you have more of them. The more, the better, the merrier. Let's just hope we will have unlimited number of birthdays, because life is fun, life is so fun that never a moment you can get dull of it; it's interesting because there are different phases of life you will experience, some frequently and some just once in your lifetime.

You never feel sad. It's only because everyone around you is a little happier than you do.

You never fail. It's only the rest succeeded earlier than you do.

If I have to wish, I will wish to live forever, for unlimited resources to bring my life a more fruitful one, for all the people around me to enjoy the luxury of longevity like I do.

Optimistic as it seems, what happens if we have one more day to live? As I said, I never really think about it (Ok yes sometimes and I just daze and stare at the screen to imagine the end of the world, like a meteorite come crashing down splitting the whole planet into two, or some alien invasion like War of the Worlds, or some crazy mofo creating a super massive ultra nuclear warhead.).

There are too many things to be done. Just so many.

"I will knock on your door to look for you, to say the things which I never dared to say, into your eyes I see, the vision which you view in me, and I will whisper into your ears, telling you that I've never regretted knowing you at the first place, never regretted to look for the brighter side of my life through you.

Never had I before feel this way until you came into my life. In my wonderful dreamland I dreamt of us being together forever.. If the pathway you took to enter my life is permenant, then dreams will come true."

Whatever I say it's true. It hasn't changed since the start.

And when it comes to the end, it won't change, for anything, for you.

Even if I just have one more day to live, I will hold you close in my arms to tell you how much you mean to me, and if there is a chance for me to live for another moment with you, I will struggle, to fight for that moment, for that moment with you and you alone, treasuring every single detail of us together, for I will never leave my memories apart, especially the ones with you.

Rambled by kaSh at 2:46 am

Saturday, June 25, 2005

Ok I am damn bo liao. This is my friendster profile in case people who don't visit my friendster (anyways I don't think people visit my blog)

I am a thinking processor. I think the wrong things.

My mouth is full of shit. That is, I talk rubbish all day long. When it comes to serious and down to earth and sensitive matters, my mouth's stuck with those shit.

I still love to sleep. Nothing beats sleeping and going into dreamland, searching for solutions to remedy the next armaggedon, searching for answers to some stupid questions, searching everything but reality.

I've gotten really better over the past few months. I am beginning to love myself again, for being so damn noisy, stuck up, irritating and lazy.

I don't like to screw up people's lives, however I have my own life to go through too. Sometimes I wonder if procrastination brings about miracles and wonders eventually.
Someone asked what happens if you realise that you just have another day to live? It may sound like a joke but it is possible.

I will knock on your door to look for you, to say the things which I never dared to say, into your eyes I see, the vision which you view in me, and I will whisper into your ears, telling you that I've never regretted knowing you at the first place, never regretted to look for the brighter side of my life through you.

Never had I before feel this way until you came into my life. In my wonderful dreamland I dreamt of us being together forever.. If the pathway you took to enter my life is permenant, then dreams will come true.

Eventually, it's all but reality, nothing comes without effort, possible it may seems, impossible it may also deem.

I just want you to be the other part of my life eventually.

Just stuff which popped up into my head. Whatever.

Rambled by kaSh at 3:29 am

Monday, June 20, 2005

Oh first day in Ayer Rajah Camp. Ok. There are huge tanks, APCs and all that tunnels in there. Turrets, different types of weapons and all.. wow....

Ok. We STILL have to march from point to point. zzzzzzz. But it was alot more relax; you can give half fuck marches and no one cares, and the march is only around... 30 metres in distance? Waste my time.

Yeah. we have 3 (THREE) breaks. Considered alot already lah. Morning and afternoon teabreaks and lunch at 0930, 1130 and 1430 respectiviely. Area cleaning's at 1630 so it means we finish our day at around that time. 1730, go home!

The instructors seem to be ALOT friendlier than those in Mohawk; I think the problem lies with Mohawk since most of my wing mates now said that Mohawk instructors are somehow insane or what lah.

Oh, I've said too much. Considered a blogger was charged a few weeks ago due to his proclaims on some political issues and such, it isn't any safer when my blog is published. Oh, maybe some of the Mohawk instructors are reading right now, or whoever, a spy or what.

Better not spill out so much, or else my head will roll......

Rambled by kaSh at 8:50 pm

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Batman Begins is a nice show.

Ghost Train is somewhat stupid.

I spent more than 150 bucks this weekend. I am a spendthrift. Fuck.

Money earned is to spend. No wonder I don't have money with me.

Please kindly donate some money to me.

I will be going to my new camp tomorrow. Hope it's fun.

I am too tired to update my life, in fact I had this inspiration on some candlelit dinner scenerio. Oh man. Nothing special lah. Lazy to type out also.

Crap.

Rambled by kaSh at 9:05 pm

Friday, June 17, 2005

Latest update: My posting for the rest of my Army life.

You are posted to HQ MES.

Your vocation is ARMAMENT TECH (SMALL ARMS).

Your are to report to: Ayer Rajah Camp, BLK 201, RM #01-02.

Reporting Date/Time:
20/06/2005 at 0800 hrs.

You are required to report in smart no.4 uniform (PES E recruits to be in No 3 uniform), except for those assigned to Police Force.

Special Instruction: You are not required to bring along the SAF issued items given during BMT, except for PT Kit. This is a staying-out unit

Rambled by kaSh at 12:47 pm

Thursday, June 16, 2005

I can't stop but to say this: CIVILIAN LIFE ROCKS! Yeah. You heard me. I'd rather go back to school to study, for lectures, for exams than living in a regimental confinement which every, single male citizen of the country has to go through for two, neverending, trecherous, calamitious, oh-my-holy-shiet-I-will-have-to-die-I-can't-take-it-anymore years during his teenage years. Yes, it's called National Service.

You have to wake up at 0500. The reveille's 0530 yeah but speaking of the whole platoon squeezing a miserable toilet, some of them take their own fucking sweet time to pee, to shiet, to brush their precious set of grinding machine, some stared into the mirror for god-knows-how-long period admiring their next to bald head, with yeah a little strand of hair left on it.

Exercise begins. 0545. Yeah. It is SO GODDAMN EARLY IN THE MORNING WHICH YOU CAN EVEN SEE YOUR DEAREST MOON WHICH HAS BEEN HANGING THERE FOR THE PAST 4 BILLION YEARS.

Breakfast's at 0630. Most of us will be awake by then, preparing for school and work, but the soldiers are already having their breakfast at that time.

0700 is area cleaning which you have to clean your whole place. Sweep the floor and all that crap.

0800. The beginning of everything. Sometimes physical training, sometimes some other things like drawing of arms (taking out our rifles for some particular reason) and usually these activities will last until 1130. Yeah. You can do PLENTY of things during that period. Trust me. Time passes the slowest between 0800 to 1130.

Lunch. Till 1300.

1300. Usually you have some drills, lessons on first aid, grenede, rifles and all that army thingy which you have to learn in order to win a war and all that.

1530. Yeah. Most properly it will be physical training. Shiok.

1730. Time for dinner. It's so early! Yeah.

1900. Night training? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Most of the time it will be a no. Admin stuff are settled here.

2100. Last parade. Routine orders.

2230. Lights out. Anyone caught using the phone after this time will be charged. Yeah. That strict.

AND IMAGINE IF I HAVE TO GO THROUGH THOSE SHIET AGAIN! Civilian life is shiok lah ok? Please don't say school sucks. PLEASE. SCHOOL ROCKS OK?? You need not stay in, you can be late. You can get your ass up at 630. You can skip lessons or sleep through them. YOU CAN GET TO GO HOME AT 3PM! ARGH!

Holidays? YOU CAN SLEEP AND CHOOSE NOT TO WAKE UP!

Yeah. And I guess you can call me a good-for-nothing asshole. Only know how to eat away my fortune, play and waste my fucking time and sleep all the way dreaming of how to eat more of my fortune away. And I am a soldier? Oh sorry, I am from Pes C. Yeah. Pes C people are people who have problems, problems like unable to lift heavy load, unable to run too much and too fast, basically permenent problems. Yeah. So my life in the army is slack, everyone says that, everyone thinks Pes C recruits are pussies. They can't do jackshiet. They cannot be commanders. All they do is to face the computer everyday or drive that fucked up tunnels touring around Singapore.

Yeah. That's for Pes C recruits. Unlike PES A/B, they go through the standard BMT stuff. We go through the modified version. Yeah. All in all you can just call me useless. Everyone around me says that. Pes C, slack, confirm clerk, BMT fucking slack, do a bit of thing only wanna complain, commanders also don't give a fuck. Yeah. You can view me as worthles piece of shiet.

The thing is, DO YOU FUCKING THINK I WANNA GET INTO PES C? HUH? You think I purposely chao keng one fucked up reason so that I can get downgraded? You think I want my ear to have holes underneath the ear drums? You think I want? you think people of my batch want their eye degrees to shoot up to more than a thousand per eye? You think they want their shoulders to dislocate like 10 times a day? You think we want? Fuck you. If I have the choice I would rather not have those shiet and go through the same standard things which everyone else's does. Though I don't wanna go through them again but at least I wanted to be like others. Normal beings.

Too bad. We are borned that way. God gave us such crap. And we are in Pes C, and people laugh at us, calling us worthless shiets. Yeah. Even I don't really want to talk about my Pes status when some ask me. You think I am not embarrassed when I am talking about this to my friends? Fuck.

And I feel like a retarded shiet lah ok. Everyone looks up on officers which swords because they look damn suaving and zai and that's the reason why girls want their boyfriends to get into OCS. Yeah. So does it mean I won't have a girl? What the fuck?

And yeah, just to pour things out. Now I am in deep shiet. I have things which I don't know how to say, and IF I say them out, I won't know how to react and I don't know what the FUCK am I thinking, yeah... actually I know, but I don't know how to say. I SCARED. I HUM. I NO BALLS.

Yeah another thing. I realise that rich guys get more girls. Yeah. Because they have the "alot of money" face. Too bad. I don't have. Neither do I have the money. I eat my money away.

You know what am I afraid of? I am afraid of losing you, again. I am afraid to open my mouth to say things out. I am afraid that things will not be the same, again. I am afraid that the usual talks will be filled with some stupid awkwardness in between which I truly wanna vanquish them. I am afraid that you are gone, again, gone, meaning not going with me. Yeah.

I am scared lah ok? I may look tough, act xia lan, talk big, alot of actions, but ultimately my mouth is still stuck with shiet, my balls shrink when I start to think what should I say, and in the end I am scared. I am afraid. I very hum.

Maybe because I am in Pes C, I look like a fucked up ganster, I speak like one, I do things like one. Whatever.

"You really made my life worthwhile."

Rambled by kaSh at 3:15 am

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

I passed out last tues. This is 1 week after I passed out. Let's do some financial calculations.

Tues: Dinner at Billy Bombers $25
Wed: Dinner at some stupid Chinese restuarant at Century Square $20
Thurs: Drinks $4, Dinner at Pastamania $10
Fri: Lunch $6, Dinner at Marche $24, Midnight movie $10
Sat: Drinks $2, Dinner $10
Sun: Lunch $12. Drinks $2
Mon: Dinner $10
Tues: Lunch $10, RAM $83, Fan $10, WOW $100, Snacks $3

Whooping amount of $341 bucks! Woohoo.

Rambled by kaSh at 4:49 pm

Monday, June 13, 2005

When I wake up the next morning, I have absolutely no idea of what I have done the day before. Maybe it is my laziness which 'prohibits' me to think too much, or rather I have not use those brain cells for quite some time. Yeah which leads me to "what the hell have I done for the past few days?"

I remembered. There was one day I went Marche to have dinner. Yeah you know it cost around 9 bucks for a Rosti (which is basically full of potatos) and a giant hotdog. Frankly speaking the food was just nice only, nothing special (or maybe I have not try the beer and wine there, maybe they taste nice or something like that.).

And there was another occassion I went for a midnight movie, Mr and Mrs Smith. Hilarious! Hahaha funny show, be sure to catch it it you have the time. I'm sure it worths the $9.50 during weekends, though it is a total rip-off generally.

Yeah and then I realised that there was one day it was so damn humid and I started perspiring like crazy for nothing. That was the day when I went for my weekly badminton game. Holy shiet. I was so drenched by my own perspiration!

I realised that I am getting lazier, again. Well those runs in the morning DO help me alot, those disciplinary routines are no doubt helpful either, but my laziness got the better of me after I passed out from BMT. I wake up at 11 plus (well it was quite early already) instead of around 7pm (which is considered late during camp) and oh well whatever lah.

And I have this feeling of uncertainty all the while, due to the things which happen to me, oh well, actually it isn't any big deal, who gives a fuck anyways?

Oh yeah, I am back to my World of Warcraft expenditure again. That game rocks, but somehow I feel that my com is failing me, slowly. It lags every now and then; this 3 year old machine is outdated already. Oh man, 3 years ago my computer was one of those top end notches machine, and now, it is just an average scrap metal, how fast is the world's technology advancing? Too fast even the human race are struggling to catch up with it. Slow down please!

Did I mention I got into NUS Engineering? I think Chem Engineering is a cool course (of course the students of that course will NEVER say that) so I am deciding to apply for it again next year, along with NTU's Chem Engineering too. NTU's hostel got cockroach? No aircon? Near the cemetry? Hahaha. try sleeping outfield with centipedes, thunderstorms in the middle of the night, shivering like crazy and you just cannot do anything about it.

"If I say I would like you to be the one, to be the one who reaches out for me whenever I am down, to be the one who says the nicest things to me, to be the one who shoulders my sorrows, and for you I will be the one who is there for you whenever you need me, the one who cry with you when you are down, the one who shower my care and concern to you, would you be the one for me?"

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? zzzzzzzzzzzz

Rambled by kaSh at 12:01 pm

Friday, June 10, 2005

I am so tired but I couldn't sleep.

I have absoutely no idea why.

Maybe some things are really really meant not to say it out, especially when most of us think otherwise when expressed out; human minds are complex, they can have 1001 miraculous ideas of how to operate a light bulb 50 metres away.

There is always a rationale behind everything questioned and done. I believe that's true. You don't go around killing people slashing their throats for fun. You hate them and thus you do it.

But there is a problem with that: Sometimes I don't know how to say out the reason or rationale of me doing something. Perhaps it's so obvious that no reason is needed, meaning it's so obvious that that's the reason behind which absolutely need not be mentioned unless you are really dumb, or simply too complicated to be explained... or most of the time we know what's the rationale behind my action so I guess I need not explain them out again.

Or sometimes I just don't feel like saying.

And sometimes I will type like no one's business, and ended up not knowing what the hell am I talking until I re-read my entire entry, and I by that time comes I am lazy to go amend my mistakes.

I choose to keep things into my heart. Because it will be better that way.

It also means that I will die earlier because I don't think my heart can take it for the rest of my life.

But it doesn't mean that I have alot of problems. I choose to be carefree but not giving a fuck about anything around me. Only those who are significant to me then I will. Yeah. I am the villian.

Yes I am bad. You can see that by reading the previous post with extreme verbal content. And I don't care because that doesn't post a tiny bit fuck threat to me. I am evil. I flare up unneccesarily. I have a vicious temper which poisons and kills . Fear me.

It's not that I didn't try to be a good guy.

Maybe even if I try to be one, everyone will portray me as the bad guy.

Anyways I don't care. As long as you see me as the good guy in your heart, I am contented.

Rambled by kaSh at 1:45 am

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

**Entry with explicit verbal content. Get the hell out if you don't wish to read.**

I passed out yesterday. It was a ceremony. Ok it didn't look like one. Whatever. I am out of that stupid place, as a recruit.

Ok this was the thing. I had badminton today in school. Oh well how I missed that school and the people there so much. Yeah I woke up and went back there to play, and I felt really tired and restless when I reached there. Goddamnit.

After the whole damn thing the boys and girls started playing water bombs. I didn't want to get myself wet so I said whoever touches me will get it from me, of course in a kidding manner, just telling them that I did not want to be drenched, something like I am a neutral party and whatever it was, please don't hit me with that thing.

Oh well, one came near me and my pants got wet while I was sitting on the steps of the stadium. I felt really pissed at that time, in addition of my tiredness (most of you know that if I am tired I don't like to be screwed around), alright so I thought they were just having fun and I grabbed 2 water bombs wanted to find that person who drenched my pants.

Yeah I was outside the girls' toilet. It wasn't that fun afterall, so after a few moments I decided to drop the 2 stupid damn watery thing onto the floor and continued back to change my pants.

When I came back with my pants changed, I realised that my whole bloody bag was wet; someone apparently threw into or somewhere near my bag and the contents were wet inside. Fucking hell. So the fuck what if I shouted vulgarities across the stadium? You wanna fuck with me? What did I say? I was never wanted to play. Even it was an unintentional action, can't you just simply open your mouth to say sorry? Mouth got shit stuck inside? Cannot open and say sorry?

Firstly, my handphone spoilt. Water went in. And the best thing is, I had it repaired just two weeks ago, and now it's spoilt. Fuck. You pay for me new handphone izzit? CCB.

Secondly, my precious Zen Micro was also drenched too. What the fuck. That baby was less than a week old and you wanna fucking drown it? Where is the apology? Fucking cheebye. I don't care you girl or guy. That's my bloody temper.

And yeah. End of the day, one of them, who threw onto my pants (I forgotten what was her name and I seriously don't even give a half fuck about it) cried. Good job. Very nice. My legs turned to jelly when I see a girl cry, especially when it directly or indirectly concerns me. Yeah. And I have to apologise? Ok well the thing is I don't mind apologising for making you cry, but I already said myself clearly in the first place, I don't wanna get bombed, I was at some safety area which you all agreed not to bomb that place, and guess what? I still got drenched on my fucking pants! How amazing was that! And she denied that she didn't hit it. Ok perhaps she didn't see, but some others saw, and she wanna fucking deny, and after that, cry? I don't care if you are a girl or whatever fuck, you wanna call me chauvinstic or what fuck, hate me and curse me for the rest of your life, I don't give a shiet, I was very irritated at that time and until now I am still.

Good move when you cried there. And yeah the other one who fucking drenched my bag, nice job too. I thought bags were not suppose to be touched? Ok accident. HOW ABOUT A NICE APOLOGY? So the fuck what I shouted pua chee bye at you? Oh perhaps you don't know me, oh I don't give a fuck either. Bite me if you want to.

That's my temper. I don't expect to change for people like them. Ok they wanna enjoy I understand, but there is a limit to it. Yes maybe I went abit to far by spouting vulgarities. On that part, I can apologise, because you all don't know me. Yeah but what the fuck? Throw water at me? Chao cheebye.

Rambled by kaSh at 9:36 pm

It wasn't initiated anyhow. It wasn't signaled into my mind. The simple yet unwilling action just came 'true' somehow or rather. It was just directed towards the transparent piece of plastic, enclosed and sealed by the two corners, left with a top opening, waiting for it to be removed again...

For the past few weeks I wasn't on my own bed, I wasn't on my own home, I wasn't leading the lifestyle that I had before, I wasn't enjoying the comfort what most people had. But my mind was floating, time and again my dreams came back and forth into my head, with all the images I had when I was once with a 'simple' lifestyle.

No, I did not loathe the army. I got used to the lifestyle there, though it took a few moments, I finally settled down with peace in my heart, looking at the brighter side of regimental life. The dreams came back to tell me, how much I had done, how much things I had regret doing and most of it, the image never failed to have your as ever, brilliant and chubby face in it.

And it was the flaps of my pouches of my wallet which driven my sight to the images even clearer, even most significant, which lead to you, to your memories, to mine, to my memories... I wondered how important was it to get on with life, somehow I told myself forward is the way to walk and not to turn back to dwell onto what was left behind far away.

Removing them is a difficult thing to do. I just wanted to pour out what was in my heart now. I don't feel in grief, nor revengeful or some sort of negative feelings, because as far as I know, in this world, there will be better things for me to explore.

Open up my bloody eyes and things will be found around.

Rambled by kaSh at 12:44 am

Sunday, June 05, 2005

I am going to pass out! 2 more days till the end of my basic course! Woohoo! Frankly speaking I kinda miss my mates whereby we always crap around with one another and do stupid things, reading magazines and sharing food and all that..

Ok. What the hell. I have nothing to say.

By the way the previous entry was something which was required to write and submit to my instructors, what meaningful and memorable experience in Mohawk (Mohawk is my company's name) and yeah so I've written down my life in the army briefly, so if you are interested you can read the previous entry (meaning the entry before this, just scroll down).

Oh yeah, I have a huge blister on my finger, which means I cannot play badminton! Oh my fucking god that is the worse thing that happens to me. I feel so pain when swinging the racket and all that crap.

Oh well, it will get better. I hope it recovers real soon!

Rambled by kaSh at 4:57 pm

Meaningful and Memorable experience in Mohawk

It was a series of allusive events which led me to what I am today, a Mohawk warrior or maggot which most of the instructors loved to call us. Although I was from the Pes C batch, (33rd Modified BMT batch), the training was not facile after all. Most of the things done were not within our syllabus, however those were in were made to be more strenuous and demanding for most of us. We came back to the bunk shagged.

The first few days were hell. I cannot sleep properly, I was expected to wake up at 0530, I was expected to do physical training at an ungodly hour of 0600, our section was expected to standardize everything we do, for instance the arrangement of our boots, our shoes and slippers/sandals and we were expected to fall in right on time, not a minute late or something like that, with our water bottles filled and drank before our morning exercises, which most of us known it as the 5BX.

A few days later the IPPT Category test came. Oh my god! How long have I not been exercising and they wanted me to take the test all of a sudden! I was stunned for a while; nevertheless we still have to go through it. Overall it was ok, I failed though, however it was a good experience which differentiated the IPPT test in the army from the NAPFA test from my schooling days.

We had lectures, lectures and more lectures. Lectures which differ from normal ones like Math and Science; these lectures taught us about army; how are we suppose to dress up, how are we suppose to behave, how a first aid was conducted, how a rifle worked, how a grenade worked, the structure of the army, personal hygiene and cleanliness and much more.

Initially I thought the instructors were a bunch of heartless people who only found satisfaction from penalizing us on the tiniest details we have done wrong. Punishments ranging from pumping positions holding there lasting for more than half and hour, shouting and screaming at you in front of the whole platoon or company, repetition of stuff being done if it did not met the time frame given, confinements and guard duties. It was totally different from the punishments given from schools, because in schools you can give that don’t care attitude and still got away scot-free; in the army there is no such thing.

Nope, the instructors are not mindless machines trained to give us hell for the rest of our lives. In fact, they showed a lot of concern and welfare (maybe this was because we were from Pes C) and given us much benefits of doubt. Time and again interviews were conducted by the PC to find out how we were moving on and if we were used to regimental lifestyle. If we were unable to attend our training, they gave us the welfare to rest one corner or something like that.

The rifle, yes the one thing which you never ever want to lose it in your entire life. It was so important and sacred that a solemn ceremony was conducted to bestow the weapon to our safeguard, and time and again this tool (though it was already more than 30 years old) MUST be with you no matter where you go. Maintaining it was another problem (I said problem because it was hard to maintain it) and you will get charged or something like that if the rifle screwed up.

Route marches were generally fun; though the distance was short at least I had a lot of fun walking together with my platoon and singing songs to keep our morale high and keep on going to complete the marches. The longest march was the 10km graduation march which was conducted near POC, and it was a great experience because we got to explore parts of the island which we had never gone before; places such as the reclaimed land which was a mosquito farm and the old school.

It was a fun experience holding a real rifle firing live rounds. Range was what I am mentioning about. Never in my life had I hold a real rifle and fire live rounds which can KILL. Initially when the rifle was bestowed upon us it looked like somewhat a toy to me, however when range came, it fired out life rounds which impressed me during the first few shots. This baby could do something! Targets were mounted and we had to shoot a minimum number of them in order to pass, in my opinion it was rather easy when you follow the procedures and techniques mentioned by the instructors.

One of the most mind draining events was the field camp. I could say it was the most significant and cogent event of the whole of my BMT life. Although we only had 4 days and 3 nights, we were not spared from the calamitous weather and the wraith of our instructors. Some said Pes C field camp would not be as tough, but I thought otherwise. Firstly the weather drained our morale; bashas were drenched and we were not spared either. Drills were conducted time and again and we were again punished for the slightest mistake made, and the punishment was really tough. Yes it was a memorable experience.

BIC is a course which stimulates a real war event whereby you have to leopard crawl all the way for 70m through obstacles. 70m looked short but when you crawled it for the first time it took me eternity to reach to the end of the other side. Sand entered my body and I suffered abrasions on my elbows. It was a good experience nevertheless.

You only get to throw a live grenade once in your life, and that occurs when you are a recruit. The impact was GREAT, explosions and the percussions can be felt within 70m to 100m radius. If I had the chance I would want to throw again.

In conclusion, life in Mohawk is indeed tough, but along the way, new friendships are forged, new lifestyles are practiced, new lessons are learnt, a civilian transformed to a soldier is a great lead forward, for everything will be different entirely, and the most important thing is friendship, especially with your buddy, because only through that way your regimental life will seem to be more carefree and relaxed, your mental toughness will increase to a level you will never expect and trainings which may seem to take a day pass quickly, and before you realize it, it is moving towards the end of the basic course soon, crafting a person who knows nuts about military life to a soldier, a disciplined and well-trained Mohawk warrior.

Rambled by kaSh at 11:08 am