Sunday, June 02, 2002

Bookout post:

Restored Post

2 of our sergeants seem to have been getting stricter recently. One uber relaxed one, who seems to smile when giving drill commands and whom everybody but Roy and me think looks like Brain from Pinky and the Brain, but we two think looks like Pinky, has become ever so subtly more strict - he was the one who made us do 6 rounds around the parade square last week when previously, we'd not even run round the parade square in the mornings, and he's been knocking people down more. Which may be why people have become less taken to singing the Pinky And The Brain theme when he approaches. The other is the previously mentioned "garang" sergeant, whose professed philosophy of "whack hard, give lots of welfare" has become more evident recently (He actually promised us many nights off if we performed well, but so far it seems nights off are all given in company level, so). He's become a lot more particular about us shouting loudly, tightening our boot laces, locking our arms when marching and doing drills properly recently, and on tuesday and wednesday our reward for going to the parade square earlier than other platoons was to be knocked down (as a "lesson" in how to lock our arms when marching). We are also now supposed to shout when talking to him, even one on one, but thankfully that has lapsed somewhat. I reiterate my stand that shouting damages the voice, so making us shout is actually worse as eventually we will not even be able to attain the pre-injury level!

Whenever we are given physical punishment, the others dismiss it as "nothing". I think if the Army now is like cutting off one arm as opposed to the past's two, and Gryphon Company was cutting off one hand, SMM is like cutting off one finger! :) Though the bottoms of my palms keep getting sore. And I think my hands are becoming rougher by the week. Oh well.

Someone went to stick a cute cartoon of a pig's head on the ice machine in the cookhouse. Hehe.

When it comes to the treatment of insects and other monsters, I think much of my platoon is rather hypocritical. When I kill giant ants or giant spiders, people scold me and moan about my cruelty - "What did the spider do to you?". However, when other people use lighters to burn them (sometimes to a crisp), trap ants and spiders in syringes and put them in a near vacuum for a periods of time and make them fight deathmatches with other insects, no one utters a word (at least not that I've heard). What they do either kills the insects painfully (if they -can- feel pain) or leaves them permanently damaged, while what I do gives them a quick clean death such that they won't come to the bunk to terrorise us.

Jeremy was bored, so he was drawing Lord of the Ring parallels. He claimed that Steven looked like Saruman, I looked like Bilbo (?!) and he himself looked like Sauron. Right.

Last week, we saw a new face walking around camp observing us (one day, she was wearing a witty shirt which said: "Junkies University. Brain cells may come and go, but fat cells live forever!"), and of course, the others were evaluating her (Incidentally, the evaluation was 'not bad'). This week, she got her No 4. She'll probably be the newest female instructor. But she doesn't have the army look. She has slightly dyed hair (isn't that disallowed) and looks like she came from the Poly. Run while you can!

Tuesday night was OC night! So we got to dress guys up as girls. Most of them weren't very convincing, but some were quite good. For some reason, the 'cheap slut' look was in, so most had all manner of tasteless clothing. And many of them didn't shave! Ugh. Folie, our section's Miss SMM, was quite pretty in his outfit. Only thing was that he didn't have a wig. Roe, Section 9's Miss SMM candidate, on the other hand, had this gigantic pink wig and a matching pink boa. While waiting for the results, one of the more convincing "girls" actually did some bodybuilding poses. And then proceeded to wipe "her" sweat with "her" left breast (which seemed to be triangular bandages).

For OC night, someone managed to arrange for 3 real girls to come down, all in matching pink tanks and black hot pants. 2 of them joined the sergeant many people always make fun of for the opening dance (He can dance quite well actually). Of course, they were being evaluated while they were there - "Her butt and breasts are very big... They have the figure. Large hourglass figure... Enormous, you know... Usually, girls like that, [are] very fat... [They aren't] But they have the shape." Sigh. But I do wonder where they got them from.

In the end, my fears were not entirely founded. Our platoon was the only one which did a sketch on army life per se (With Jeremy doing a most excellent impersonation of his namesake). One did one where their instructors had a reunion 20 years down the line, another did a terribly boring and draggy news bulletin and the last a "SMM radio show".

Starved for news, I did what I would not normally do - I read the New Paper, since none other was available. Apparently some woman was sentenced to death by stoning in Pakistan for having sex outside marriage - she'd been raped. But then, since there weren't 4 reputable muslim males who'd testify to having seen the rape, the rapist couldn't be convicted. And her allegation of rape was taken as a confession that she'd sex outside marriage. But then, if 4 muslim males has witnessed the rape but hadn't done anything, then they wouldn't be very reputable, would they? The problems with basing law on the letter, and not the spirit (and a healthy dose of common sense) of the [1300 years old] holy books.

Also in the New Paper was a good quote from someone - "In Democracy, the people place limits on the government, not the other way around". Or something. That was in relation to the rubbish about out of bound markers. I think the article on religion and moral panics was really quite good, though of course some would decry it as the product of ivory towered academics' idealism. They do err too much on the side of caution over here (See? I see not some more sinister intent). Now, what's politics doing in a bookout post? :)

Our catheterisation practice amused most. For some reason, they liked to play with the model penis (not that I didn't poke someone with it once though). For the demonstration, Folie had to put the model in his pants. Oh well. Some fuss was made about female sensibilities - how come they're so privileged? Tis unfair. I also want to be protected from the sight of [mostly Malay] male genitalia in the bunk!

I saw my first private first class! Some reservist guy.

On Wednesday, we were going to have a fantastically early night off - we were going to be able to book out as early as 5:40pm. However, we were delayed by 1 1/2 hrs in the end because someone's cupboard was smashed and his handphone was stolen. So we were searched, and then had to strip to our underwear. Well actually if we'd been a touch earlier we would've escaped - we were the first platoon at the guard room and the first row was almost out of the gate when we were called back. Pity that Simon chose to mumble in response to our sergeant, so he went into the guard room to sulk for 2-3 mins.

Yew Yew bought 3 extra sets of uniforms with his credit, bringing the total to 8 sets. Wah. I actually have an evil plot for using up the $226 of credit we get every year - buy 500 tins of Kiwi and resell it on the black market.

We were supposed to go to a "Service Quality Centre" for 2 days to train our customer service skills. Unfortunately, they cancelled it and we're being forced to take block leave next friday and saturday. So I'll only have 7 days left till december! Stupid SAF. "You can only take leave when the SAF wants you to" - A sergeant in BMT. I think I can kiss the thought of overseas trips goodbye till 12 June 2004. They could actually give us an "off" (meaning we've to come back anytime they call us, but our anemic 14 days of annual leave won't be burned) but they were too stingy. Oh, well actually I've guard duty on Friday. I wonder how that'll work out.

I think I'm losing touch with the world, especially with Singapore, because we don't get newspapers. And merely reading one magazine a week is not enough. It'll have to do, I guess...

We have to pass 10 IVs to pass out, but from what people tell me of their IV experiences, it seems SAF medics aren't very skilled. When Kairen was IVed (for a fever), the medic hit a valve once and missed the vein the second time but pumped the saline in anyway, causing an oedema (a large bulge under the skin - thank Andrew G for providing the term). When Royston got hit recently (also for a fever, and a 37.6 degrees one too), the medic also missed the first time and so the senior medic had to take over. And he felt more tired and lethargic after his IV and his fever got worse, making him miss our section outing to Cineleisure. Oh well. Mayhap they give the lousy medics to those whom they think are trying to skive (low fevers, presumably). Actually I hear that besides unnecessary IVs, some medical officers give more punishments to those they think are trying to skive - one medical officer at Maju used to order the medics to stick their gloved (but unlubricated!) fingers up the rectums of patients reporting sick for diarrhea because he thought all 'diarrhea' cases were fake.

On Friday night, I was bored, so I finally sucuumbed to blandishments and ran 2 rounds around SMM with Roe and Sargunan. When I returned to the bunk, everyone was very surprised, happy and shocked. And Kenneth asked me for 4D numbers. Gah.

Simon calls me "Englishman", and indeed as in BMT I think I am the one whose English is the best in the platoon, though my standard has dropped somewhat. However, even Steven, with his degree from Murdoch University in Australia (and who boasts of having had to plough through texts so arcane that even his father, a University Lecturer, cannot comprehend them) still gets puzzled by the words I use and my sentence structure. Oh well. Some accuse me of using bombastic words, but they seem perfectly normal to me. But then, that was the impression I had of the denizens of vis-a-vis (the Yahoo Groups Group), when I first joined them on it.

The so-called Smoking Hut in the camp looks more like a Smoking Prison to me. It even has bars - the walls reach partway up to the ceiling, and the rest of the distance is covered by grilles.

We had Casualty Evacuation in Built Up Areas (CEBUA) on Saturday in Sungei Gudong (which is so expansive, it looks like Malaysia - with so much land given to the SAF, no wonder we're running out of space in Singapore!). It's actually supposed to be a full day event, but they wanted to be cheapskate and so squeezed it into Saturday's schedule. In the end, 1 1/2 hrs of bookout time was eaten up.

I saw a tin of Soya Oil (not palm!) in the kitchen of the cookhouse. Wow. I wonder if they use it all the time, or if it was just for show.


Quotes:

"[On my 'snack' bag] Do you have a turkey in here?"

"[On a cartoon of a pig's head stuck on the ice machine] Pig's head? Cannot... Ice not halal already (The ice is)"

"[On torturing insects] We don't intend to kill them, just do some permanent damage."

"[On the female dancers brought in for OC night] Her butt and breasts are very big... They have the figure. Large hourglass figure... Enormous, you know... Usually, girls like that, [are] very fat... [They aren't] But they have the shape."

"[On physical punishment] Excused ah?... Cannot do exercise. Later, do area cleaning for 1 hour."

"Look at Zhang, wearing a poncho and talking on the handphone. He's trying to be Count Cuckoo (Star Wars II reference)"

"What time is it? [Other platoon mate: Time to get a watch]"