After coffee with ben & friends, I just had to get this out- typing this at 1.59am at the expense of everything else that should be going on at this hour. I am Very disturbed by me and my thoughts on the issue.

1) I really don't like having lunch alone. Really. Ever. I ate 2 meals alone in a row last week and got all depressed and didn't want to talk to anybody after that and i'm still recovering from it.

2) I would not take up arms to kill any person in war (or peacetime), be it for the defense of Singapore Or Malaysia. Which may count for a court-martial, or cause more hurt and harm to my family and friends. Even if it came down to the enemy shooting me in cold blood or me shooting first. Or possibly if it came down to the enemy shooting my family and I or me shooting first.

This is going to have implications for me on the future i know, but this kind of action is something I am not prepared to carry out. And i don't know if i can live with the consequences- i don't think i can.

I know in war everything changes, we can't afford to hold on to ideals where they compromise survival. But.. maybe it's just that i'm immature for my age, or have led a sheltered life so far (not that i'm not grateful for it) but- okay it's not something unique to me, on the contrary every person of a sound mental state should also- have an aversion to the taking of life. Rifle, pistol, armored tank, logistics~ co-ordinating/mobilising resources, witholding medical treatment, .... what abt the administering of treatment to another soldier who will be back in the battlefield killing other people weeks earlier than he would have without the treatment? Or simply thrusting a rifle into a soldier's arms when you know that same rifle will take off the heads of as many rounds as it holds?

Am i a pacifist? Perhaps. Probably. But war remains a possibility and no matter how far or distant I make myself from it inevitably i'm going to be standing on one side against one other (or more). Escapist i call myself. Coward even- as a fit eighteen-year old with no disabilities or significant medical conditions, in control of my faculties, not to want to pick up my cross should the circumstances arise. I can continue counting (and dividing, and subtracting from) .

As ben said (which i will reciprocate to him, i hope, if the situation ever arises) "If i met andrew on the battlefield, him fighting on the frontlines for malaysia with his battalion behind him, me with my battalion behind me, i would kill him. But as a friend i would want be the one to kill him such that he dies a quick death, as painless as possible. "

The reality is that diplomacy doesn't always work. And when it fails, when non-military negotiations fall through, that is not the end of the matter- only the beginning of military intervention. Ideals still exist, just that they undergo a rearrangement in priority and the irrelevant ones play musical chairs and leave quietly. Humanity hasn't fallen through if they can't settle everything in a calm, rational matter; war and battles was the status quo quite often in many places, at many times. And people get hurt. Suffering and death. Discipline is enforced.

More than a deterrent is a standing army. Sabre-rattling? Every country has defensive counter-measures and counter-offensive measures- in peacetime strategists plan with botanical representations the options available in an armed conflict. Targets are secured, or destroyed, levelled to the ground.

And people, individually and collectively, are scarred for life. I shudder to use this word because of the implications on this blog(gers)- i shall substitute it with references to the many novels and biographies of people who have lived through war and who relive the trauma every night when they try to sleep. To kill a person once, what is worst than that? To kill the same person over and over again in your dreams, repeatedly, and there's nothing you can do to take away the murderous hand- because the enemy lives and lurks in tomorrow's nightmares waiting to be killed again.

There's poetic justice in the choice of firearms- the long rifle for sniping enemies in the different uniforms on the other side of the "no man's land", the short pistol for removing the enemy in your midst- the wolf in Your clothing- the deserter whose actions may have implications across the nation- who looks out for himself first. One looks down the long barrel and aims with the sight, handles the rifle with care, for fear of the recoil, the reloading- you don't want to pick off the wrong target. With the pistol you fire at point blank, knowing how vulnerable you are at close range, but you don't aim, you hardly aim because a shot that is one degree off still penetrates into your platoonmate.

Now i see why political apathy is on the rise- easier to condemn all than to express an opinion that demands to be substantiated.

And yet i agree wholeheartedly that a me that has been trained for 2.5 years to contribute to national defense is preferable to a me that has no preparation whatsoever (in the face of the possibility of war) i'd still rather it not be me who is handed with the responsibility for the lives/deaths of other people. Or even 6 years in medical school. Being responsible for my own is enough.

All my male singaporean friends my age must have sorted out these issues, at least to some extent, through their experiences. What will they say? If that is you, what would You say?

(feels shivers up my spine)





And i'm wondering if my parents were more receptive to my current situation because i'm soft and mayn't have withstood the rigours of military reality. Or even a crude and far-fetched approximation to it in training.

And i request no judgement be made up on this blog.