An army focuses on regimentation, on discipline. Boy oh boy, it has been a long time since I wrote an entry here. Nostalgic really. I must add though, the standard of my English has pretty much deteriorated, with prolonged use of Chinese and dialects. So pardon me when I make grammatical or spelling mistakes.
I am not going to talk about my experiences in the army. That one I can speak to my friends about. Experiences in the last three weeks has been ardous, long and memorable. Whether it's good or bad ones doesn't really matter after sufficient time has passed. They matter in that particular moment but when it has passed and activities translate into memories, the form has changed.
I have changed, of that I don't doubt. I expected myself to change after entering the army and I did. On the third day, I cried. I have never done that before, not in camps or overseas trips. It was Mother's Day that day though I would be a Goddarn liar if that was my only reason I cried. In intropection, it was because I was homesick and depressed. The latter not just because of the former. It was the translation of a civilian's life to a soldier's life. Individualism is no longer a virtue. It is inherently rooted out in BMT. It's not on purpose; there's a fully fledged reason for it. Discipline and regimentation requires order. Order requires obedience. Obedience does not require thoughts.
Most of the time, we have to follow a particular set of orders. The obedience of the orders is absolute and they have to be reacted fast to.
"Just follow my order, don't think about it;" it actually continues fluently in more elegant language.
ID tags, or dog tags. We recieve them on day 1. There are two. Both has the same thing on it. Your name. Your NRIC and your blood type. The rationale behind wearing them is simple. If, touch wood, you die and the manner of your demise causes you to be unidentifiable, one of the tag is placed into your mouth to identify you. The other is given to your parents.
When you recieve the tag on the first day and the meaning explained to you, you know in your heart(or perhaps it's just me) that your life is no longer a priority. Alright that didn't come right. Every soldier's life is important, yes that's true. But once you become soldier, you recieve that responsibility(compulsorily) to protect the people around you. When you receive your gun, there is a long ceremonial process. You vow to take care of the gun and stuff, and at the end of the pledge, you are require to raise your voice and shout "WITH MY LIFE."
I will take care of the gun...protect my country...protect my family...train...WITH MY LIFE." The ceremony, as I said, is a long one and you are required to hold the gun the whole ceremony with your right hand. 4 kg and there is only one method allowed for everyone to hold it. As our company Sergeant Major would say, that is the weight of responsibility.
Interestingly, my blog might be monitored. There is a program within this computer that enable what I am doing to be seen. I don't want to be seen wayanying so the good things of BMT shall remain unsaid. I don't want to be charged with disrect to my superiors, so the bad things remains similarly unsaid.
But I have changed. Not for the better nor the worst. I know I am more responsible now. I doubt punctuality will be as big an issue for me then it was in the past. All the punishments taught me that. With 1 min and a half to shower or with 2 min to head to the toilet and down, you really have no choice. Our watches are syncronised with the lieutanants' watches and 10 seconds of being late rewards us with 10 push-ups. We have a platoon timer who screams the time as he sprints down the stairs, half-dressed. Be there half-naked and you are there. Humilating maybe but you have not broken the trust the commanders have placed in you. I was once a more irresponisble person. I still am now. 3 weeks of BMT has not changed much in the way of time managment. I am lazy as hell, prefering to push what I need to do till the last second. But there it ends. I push it till the last second, thankfully, no longer beyond.
There was a beauty in irresponsibility and I will not regret what I did then. I prioritised my own time over the need for being on time for the other individual. That was self-importance. I doubt I will think any lower of myself; but now lack of punctuality will affect me quite a bit more.
I have became a lot of cynical too. Neither good or bad again and I am that bit annoyed I can't explain what I mean. There are some stuff about BMT I dislike(don't we all). Oh well. Grey area censorship.
Bottom line. Have I learn from BMT? Yes. Would I have learn more(when I speak of learning, I mean it in the most general of sense, friends of mine would know above all else, I love the state of learning best) on my own? Definitely not. Memorable? Certainly. Do I like BMT?
A section mate of mine made the mistake of thinking I loved BMT because I used the word memorable and interesting.
The thing is, if hell does exist, torture devices, pain and all, it would certainly be a memorable and interesting trip there. If you like it, well, everyone has their own taste. You get my gist.
(Redacted)
There's still seven more weeks. Let's not make such a hasty judgement about it.
