YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!! MANCHESTER UNITED BEAT CHELSEA!! NOW ARSENAL HAS A FIGHTING CHANCE!!!
I'd never thought I'd say this, but WELL DONE FERGIE AND MAN UTD...
Not to mention the fact that Arsenal's unbeaten record is still intact- defended by the very buggers who broke it at that very same place a year ago- the Theatre of Dreams. Beautiful irony! Sorry, Jose, but we at Highbury are the ONLY TRUE INVINCIBLES.
In any case, heres a compressed recollection of the end of course... and the subsequent transition to a combat unit...
On returning from Taiwan we didnt do much except a floatation exercise (something like amphibious operations wherein the vehicle chugged its way through a reservior and we spent the day being very soggy) and Urban Warfare training- and both were dead fun especially the latter.
What with Staff Steven leading the way with his super-drama demonstrations, the whole bunch of us had a great time doing Counterstrike in real life. Ok i AM exaggerating but you get the picture. Storming a mock-up HDB estate with covering fire from a GPMG mounted on the neighbouring block (CHHRRRAT CHRAARAT CHRRRATTT), throwing smoke grenades and thunderflashes in all directions (BAM BAM BAM!!!) and double tapping the trigger (POW-POW!!) past every door we busted through- that was pretty much enough to get the adrenalin going.
And then before we could even think about it, POP was upon us. First the Triple-Striped Chevrons, then the interminable rehearsals, and then that proud moment of glory where all the Might of Armour was on display for the public to watch in awe (or at least thats how we were made to think it looked like).
And so I became an Armour Specialist. Nothing to be proud of, actually, I graduated purely due to God's grace and not my own efforts.
Then came a week of leave- beautiful freedom. My catch-up with Nair was one of the many productive periods of time spent during that week.
Much to my disappointment though, I ended up in the 42nd Singapore Armoured Regiment instead of the much-coveted desk jobs in HQ Armour or SAB HQ.
First came the OETI course. OETI stands for Ordnance Engineering Training Institute (a fancy name for an advanced vehicle mechanics course), but many interpreted it to mean Only Eat Talk Idle. That was indeed the case- with compulsory canteen breaks and endless waiting time that was promptly put to good use sleeping or reading Forbes inside the vehicles or on the benches.
The course instructor, a kindly old uncle-type man named Mr Mong, also made life interesting with his very "unique(read morbid)" sense of humour. Famous Mongisms included "watch out for the sparks that may fly into your eyes and fry them- otherwise you won't get to enjoy your Xbox no matter how many games there are out there in the market!". My friend once asked if he was married; he said something like "it was the biggest mistake of my life... you young men should cut it off and save yourselves so much trouble in the future".
Mr Morbid Mong proved himself to really be that archetypical mad scientist sort of guy who's passionately obsessed with his work and loves fiddling endlessly with gadgets and coming up with creative ways to maim people. And he plays Doom and Quake too. I'm glad that we were under him; he made an otherwise dry course on engine oil filters and hydro-pneumatic suspension units quite interesting.
However, the assholes at 42 SAR made us stay in camp for the nights of the course and my CSM said that we couldnt clear our entitled leave this year because there wasnt enough time in between the upcoming Marksmanship Course and the December intake of the Recruits. Psychotic scheduling if you ask me. Leave is what every conscript lives for! Ah bullocks...
All this was offset somewhat by the discovery of a Specialists' Mess and a company recreation room- both nicely furnished with air-conditioning, televisions, carom boards and internet-equipped computers (ok, they only had the internet and no games at all, but there's no point in being greedy is there?). There was even a game console that enabled us to play Resident Evil and get ourselves slaughtered by zombies and zombie dogs over and over again. This made for a much valued time of relaxation in the evenings where everyone could unwind after a lengthy day's labour- not that the days in OETI were even remotely labourious to begin with, but you get the picture.
My first experience of PT in 42 SAR comprised of a 4 klick (not "click", as the non-military types are wont to spell) run followed by 120 pushups, 120 crunches, 80 squats and 80 butterfly kicks. Quite reminiscent of the torture back in School of Armour. Didnt really leave a good impression on me, frankly. Oh well.
So now its the eye of the storm, the calm before the calamity.
