Wednesday, September 01, 2004
--- I ---
Today is the day we've been trying to avoid, but somehow the people at the top manage to have the flushing pool and the reservoir indented.
What the heck, just jump and get wet.
We are performing the emergency exit drill today, so-called "flotation" because we are supposed to wear lifejackets and thus "float" on the water - you don't expect us to sink, do you? We're going to jump wearing our usual uniform with webbing, helmet and rifle - thank goodness the fake, rubber one. Perhaps we'll sing "Underwear wet, wet / Don't believe come and check / Check already don't regret" as we pull ourselves onto shore.
Anybody wearing swimming trunks?
* * *
I'm one of the ten people in my platoon selected to escort the assault boats on their journey from Seletar Camp to our floatation reservoir, located in the Great Outdoors (see the entry dated 7 August 2004). That means having to wake up at 4:00am to get dressed. And this despite having slept at 11:00pm the night before.
Anyway we sleep in the tonner. It's a long ride to Seletar, and an even longer ride back, because the truck is not supposed to drive on the expressway with a trailer attached behind. It's pathetically difficult to sleep on board as the tonner bumps about. Sitting on the benches, you're likely to get somebody tilting his head and resting it on your shoulder, in effect pushing you downwards if you're not strong enough. Lying down is possible on both benches and floor, but the bench is narrow. The floor is decidedly more comfortable, but one is prone to get struck by one of the many dummy rifles left about on the ground. Sergeant Wenhao gets struck by one - he thinks it's retribution for hitting Zhiwei's helmet the day before while we practice setting up explosive charges on a hillside. Most of us, however, wake up eventually on the journey back, because it's so freaking long that we just don't feel like sleeping any further.
* * *
Arrival at the reservoir. We unload the boats and turn them over. Then we head for breakfast, served in packets and eaten as we listen to the last briefing before the activity commences. Lieutenant James allows us to take out the insoles of our boots, because those are the parts that are difficult to dry. We are also told to take off our garters, otherwise the air will get trapped inside our pants and when we head for the water, our legs will continually float like we've just been into the Dead Sea. Everyone does a last check on their webbings, to ensure that all pockets have been emptied clean. We are also advised to secure our water bottles, which are empty, lest they float away, as from past experience.
The first thing we do is the buoyancy test. The idea is to instil confidence in us, that our lifejackets are trusty and will not let us [sink] down. We inflate the thing by mouth, then stand in one row on the shore facing the water.
"Okay, the next group go into the water," the warrant officer sitting there refers to us.
What the heck, I tell myself. Just go for it. Just don't think about the discomfort of wearing wet clothes and boots and - underwear. I walk forward. The water rises against the side of the boots and spill in. I'm going deeper. The water is reaching my waist. I feel my underwear sticking to my skin. "Waaaaah, shiok ah!" I suspect my cry is absolutely contradictory to what I'm really thinking.
I throw the rest of my body into the water. My head fails to touch it, because of the lifejacket, which keeps the part of the body above it afloat. It takes a lot of getting used to, because you can't flatten your body to turn around as you do when swimming without any flotation aids. Now my body is tilted at some absurd angle, held in place by the balloon I am wearing about my chest.
"Lie on your backs and keep your legs up."
I lie on my back. The legs encounter some difficulty: they refuse to protrude out of water. The sodden boots are just too heavy to lift.
"Okay, head back to shore."
Normally, when I swim, I put my head underwater. Now I can't. I try swimming backwards. Not much progress. Alvin is next to me, splashing away as he tries to direct himself to shore. Eventually an exasperated Sergeant Wenhao grabs the both of us by the life jackets and tug us along the water.
* * *
Fast forward to the actual emergency exit drill in water.
We load up into the tank. It slowly reverses down the shore, into the water. I thought that water will come into the cabin, but that doesn't happen. Anyway the water here is shallow: 1.2m. The height at the ends of your usual swimming pool. I look out of the small window at the water swirling about the skin of the vehicle.
Then it stops. Sergeant Elson yells, "Emergency exit drill now!"
I push the hatch and lift myself onto the roof of the tank. The stupid rifle nearly gets in the way. If it permits I'd ditch the fucking thing into the water straightaway. Anyway, in reality, if we ever feel we are sinking we can strip every shit thing on our bodies into the water to lessen the weight upon our bodies.
Everybody is on the roof of the vehicle. After a head count, Sergeant Wenhao yells the order to inflate. The gas canister which I have received prior to mounting the vehicle is already in place. All I have to do is to pull the string, like what they do in those aircraft emergency videos, and the whole jacket will inflate within seconds. We've been briefed the night before by the RSM - in fact that's the only time he stands up to say something to us. "Gentlemen, make sure you deflate the lifejacket fully, if not it'll BLOW IN YOUR FACE." Anyway, there's been past experiences of the lifejacket inflating by canister with a whoosh and then suddenly, BAM! As the seams of the lifejacket burst. When I deflate after the buoyancy test, I crumple the whole damn thing to make sure all the air inside comes out. I don't wish to be slapped in the face by the fabric when the thing breaks apart from over-inflation.
Back to the scene. I tilt my head to the side, grab the cord and pull it. There's the sound of gas running into the lifejacket; I feel the inflatable expanding and pressing against my chest. Thank goodness Sergeant Jin Wei told me to loosen the jacket from my body by a bit, otherwise I'd been suffocated and probably throw everything up as it squeezes my stomach. When I turn back to look front again, I see this huge bulbous thing in front of me, much larger in size than when I inflate by mouth.
Sergeant Elson calls for me to jump. I shout my appointment; hesitate for a moment before making the plunge. I actually have some distance to jump before hitting the water. The most pressing issue is how deep the water really is at this spot. I might whack my leg upon some shallow spot and cramp there in the water.
What the heck, just jump.
I land in the water. I'd expect my head to plough through the murky and extremely dirty water of the reservoir before resurfacing, but no, that doesn't happen. The lifejacket prevents the upper part of my body from even entering the water.
I swim to the front of the vehicle to await the others for another head count. Then we head back to shore.
So much for flotation.
Heard that next year we'll jump off somewhere in the middle of the reservoir, where the depth is greater and the swimming distance longer.
But that's next year. I'm not even close to ORD-ing yet in the first place.
--- II ---
Happy teachers' day.
On this occasion, I'd like to see MOE send some of its teachers to the SAF to TEACH the specialists how to TEACH. Some of the soldier-lecturers are absolutely horrible in their pedagogy.
Talk about some world-class education system.
Only in the civilian world.
¶ 9/01/2004 01:50:00 pm Today is the day we've been trying to avoid, but somehow the people at the top manage to have the flushing pool and the reservoir indented.
What the heck, just jump and get wet.
We are performing the emergency exit drill today, so-called "flotation" because we are supposed to wear lifejackets and thus "float" on the water - you don't expect us to sink, do you? We're going to jump wearing our usual uniform with webbing, helmet and rifle - thank goodness the fake, rubber one. Perhaps we'll sing "Underwear wet, wet / Don't believe come and check / Check already don't regret" as we pull ourselves onto shore.
Anybody wearing swimming trunks?
* * *
I'm one of the ten people in my platoon selected to escort the assault boats on their journey from Seletar Camp to our floatation reservoir, located in the Great Outdoors (see the entry dated 7 August 2004). That means having to wake up at 4:00am to get dressed. And this despite having slept at 11:00pm the night before.
Anyway we sleep in the tonner. It's a long ride to Seletar, and an even longer ride back, because the truck is not supposed to drive on the expressway with a trailer attached behind. It's pathetically difficult to sleep on board as the tonner bumps about. Sitting on the benches, you're likely to get somebody tilting his head and resting it on your shoulder, in effect pushing you downwards if you're not strong enough. Lying down is possible on both benches and floor, but the bench is narrow. The floor is decidedly more comfortable, but one is prone to get struck by one of the many dummy rifles left about on the ground. Sergeant Wenhao gets struck by one - he thinks it's retribution for hitting Zhiwei's helmet the day before while we practice setting up explosive charges on a hillside. Most of us, however, wake up eventually on the journey back, because it's so freaking long that we just don't feel like sleeping any further.
* * *
Arrival at the reservoir. We unload the boats and turn them over. Then we head for breakfast, served in packets and eaten as we listen to the last briefing before the activity commences. Lieutenant James allows us to take out the insoles of our boots, because those are the parts that are difficult to dry. We are also told to take off our garters, otherwise the air will get trapped inside our pants and when we head for the water, our legs will continually float like we've just been into the Dead Sea. Everyone does a last check on their webbings, to ensure that all pockets have been emptied clean. We are also advised to secure our water bottles, which are empty, lest they float away, as from past experience.
The first thing we do is the buoyancy test. The idea is to instil confidence in us, that our lifejackets are trusty and will not let us [sink] down. We inflate the thing by mouth, then stand in one row on the shore facing the water.
"Okay, the next group go into the water," the warrant officer sitting there refers to us.
What the heck, I tell myself. Just go for it. Just don't think about the discomfort of wearing wet clothes and boots and - underwear. I walk forward. The water rises against the side of the boots and spill in. I'm going deeper. The water is reaching my waist. I feel my underwear sticking to my skin. "Waaaaah, shiok ah!" I suspect my cry is absolutely contradictory to what I'm really thinking.
I throw the rest of my body into the water. My head fails to touch it, because of the lifejacket, which keeps the part of the body above it afloat. It takes a lot of getting used to, because you can't flatten your body to turn around as you do when swimming without any flotation aids. Now my body is tilted at some absurd angle, held in place by the balloon I am wearing about my chest.
"Lie on your backs and keep your legs up."
I lie on my back. The legs encounter some difficulty: they refuse to protrude out of water. The sodden boots are just too heavy to lift.
"Okay, head back to shore."
Normally, when I swim, I put my head underwater. Now I can't. I try swimming backwards. Not much progress. Alvin is next to me, splashing away as he tries to direct himself to shore. Eventually an exasperated Sergeant Wenhao grabs the both of us by the life jackets and tug us along the water.
* * *
Fast forward to the actual emergency exit drill in water.
We load up into the tank. It slowly reverses down the shore, into the water. I thought that water will come into the cabin, but that doesn't happen. Anyway the water here is shallow: 1.2m. The height at the ends of your usual swimming pool. I look out of the small window at the water swirling about the skin of the vehicle.
Then it stops. Sergeant Elson yells, "Emergency exit drill now!"
I push the hatch and lift myself onto the roof of the tank. The stupid rifle nearly gets in the way. If it permits I'd ditch the fucking thing into the water straightaway. Anyway, in reality, if we ever feel we are sinking we can strip every shit thing on our bodies into the water to lessen the weight upon our bodies.
Everybody is on the roof of the vehicle. After a head count, Sergeant Wenhao yells the order to inflate. The gas canister which I have received prior to mounting the vehicle is already in place. All I have to do is to pull the string, like what they do in those aircraft emergency videos, and the whole jacket will inflate within seconds. We've been briefed the night before by the RSM - in fact that's the only time he stands up to say something to us. "Gentlemen, make sure you deflate the lifejacket fully, if not it'll BLOW IN YOUR FACE." Anyway, there's been past experiences of the lifejacket inflating by canister with a whoosh and then suddenly, BAM! As the seams of the lifejacket burst. When I deflate after the buoyancy test, I crumple the whole damn thing to make sure all the air inside comes out. I don't wish to be slapped in the face by the fabric when the thing breaks apart from over-inflation.
Back to the scene. I tilt my head to the side, grab the cord and pull it. There's the sound of gas running into the lifejacket; I feel the inflatable expanding and pressing against my chest. Thank goodness Sergeant Jin Wei told me to loosen the jacket from my body by a bit, otherwise I'd been suffocated and probably throw everything up as it squeezes my stomach. When I turn back to look front again, I see this huge bulbous thing in front of me, much larger in size than when I inflate by mouth.
Sergeant Elson calls for me to jump. I shout my appointment; hesitate for a moment before making the plunge. I actually have some distance to jump before hitting the water. The most pressing issue is how deep the water really is at this spot. I might whack my leg upon some shallow spot and cramp there in the water.
What the heck, just jump.
I land in the water. I'd expect my head to plough through the murky and extremely dirty water of the reservoir before resurfacing, but no, that doesn't happen. The lifejacket prevents the upper part of my body from even entering the water.
I swim to the front of the vehicle to await the others for another head count. Then we head back to shore.
So much for flotation.
Heard that next year we'll jump off somewhere in the middle of the reservoir, where the depth is greater and the swimming distance longer.
But that's next year. I'm not even close to ORD-ing yet in the first place.
--- II ---
Happy teachers' day.
On this occasion, I'd like to see MOE send some of its teachers to the SAF to TEACH the specialists how to TEACH. Some of the soldier-lecturers are absolutely horrible in their pedagogy.
Talk about some world-class education system.
Only in the civilian world.
