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My NS experience

It all began on a cheerful afternoon, a total contrary to my gloomy mental state, when I commenced my national service at Palau Tekong. Apprehension gripped me, for I am going into unknown territory and tales of ghost appearances and inhumane training was rampant amongst the enlistees. How would I be able to endure 2 months of arduous training on an offshore island, where the cries and agony of soldiers would be oblivious to the population? Myriad of such worrisome thoughts flooded my mind while sitting among like-minded 18 years old teenagers, waiting impatiently for my posting. Waves of euphoria washed over me when I saw the letter ‘P’ on the slip of paper given to me. I was posted to Pegasus Coy, renowned for the welfare the OC showered on the recruits. It was a temporary relief from the dreaded enlistment.

The transition from a civilian to a soldier who is bounded by strict regimentation law is no easy feat. Waking up at 530 every morning regardless how weary we are and only allowed to sleep at 2230 is part of grueling daily routine, which also include physical, BCCT, SOC and IPPT training. The highlight of BMT would be the 1 week outfield. Raised in the concrete jungle, this would be the virgin outfield experience for everyone. We had to endure incessant swarms of insects, especially mosquitoes, when resting in the bashas we erected. Moreover, we were plagued by the fear of our sergeants stealing our rifle, which would warrant punishment definitely. We also need to cope with wearing uniforms which were soaked in sweat and smeared with mud. After all, we do not enjoy the luxury of bathing outfield. POP soon ensued and I was posted to Signals Institute for vocation training.

My stint at SI was the best period of my national service because the life mirrored that of a student. Basically we had to attend lectures, learn to manipulate signal sets, troubleshoot and undergo examinations. This was the time I knew all my current friends, who turned out to be my current fellow platoon mates. Physical training was at the least, since signalers are required to use more brain than brawn, a statement to be disputed in the next phrase of my NS.

It was perhaps due to bad karma that landed me in Lim Chu Kang Camp 1, 4 SIR which was just adjacent to the cemeteries. The premonition of the worse to come was the pungent stench of a potent concoction of fertilizers and animal waste. True enough, we were immediately slapped with an overdose of physical training sessions and ‘blessed’ with a sergeant that turned berserk for no apparent reason. He has this unreasonable standard for area cleaning. Any tiny speckle of dust would deem the whole bunk dirty. It was during this time I cried. My body couldn’t take anymore punishment and my mind tormented by relentless threats from superiors. No one in the company took notice of a mere platoon of 22 people, less care for them especially when their stereotypical views of signalers being the slackest. It is such tyrannical ruling that drove people to escape and cause the platoon size to dwindle.

We have been through IMF 2006, 2 overseas trip to Brunei and Taiwan, 2 bilateral exercises with Malaysia, Brunei, for the signalers that is. All outfield experiences are similar. Lugging a heavy signal set on our back for the whole duration of the night tactical march from the start point right up to the objective. Erecting a network of communication was our primary job, while having to provide an all-round defense for the PSOs when they do a tactical halt. There were times when I felt like a dog. Being barked at even when we are doing one of the most important jobs. There was a drastic difference when CPT Chen is the S3 for the recent exercise. I feel important and more of a human. The advent of hand phone may have made us obsolete, but there must be a reason why there is still a signal platoon present in a battalion.

To surmise, the period I have gained the most spiritually wise would be during BMT and SI. I have learnt not to take the present for granted. For example, water and electricity which is easily available at the turn of the tap and flick of the switch is sorely missed outfield. Sad to say, the bulk of my NS which was spent in 4SIR was fruitless. What would one gain from walking in the night with a heavy signal set and superiors showing no appreciation at all? Nothing but severe deprivation of sleep, insect bites all over and high possibility of contracting athlete foot. Furthermore, signalers seem to be prejudiced against in this company. Just because the vocation badge on our collar is different from the rest of the battalion (2 flags instead of 2 bayonets) doesn’t mean we do any less.

I’m exhilarated at the completion of my national service and the thought of leaving a wretched place revitalize my mind. 4SIR doesn’t leave any fond memories and I will only miss my friends. The time we ‘chiong’ together outfield, jokes that revolve around Yao Kun and Edison, Brian’s paranoia, Randeep’s straightforward nature, Luqi’s corny jokes, WeiChong’s naïve antics, Chee Seng’s involvement with a chair, Han Cong’s ‘It’s not my fault’, Surendran’s disappearing act, Derrick’s deep and sexy voice, Jian Yun’s metro sexual appearances, Danny’s medical certificate, Nicholas Chee’s obsession with anime, Ming Kiat and Nicholas Lim’s conspiracy theories, will forever be firmly etched in my mind. Let us all unite and roar for the last time, ‘SPEED THROUGH SKILLS!’