Sticks in the wind

Just came back from dinner with a few friends, including a primary school friend whom I have not met for years. How time flies, and as it does, how it changes all we once knew to be cast iron reality, to something familiar yet totally different.

Once, I was idealistic, looking through rose-tinted glasses and ready to challenge the world. Once, I was driven, wanting to climb every ladder I came upon, determined to reach the top and be the best. Once, I had faith, that things would turn out right on their own in due course, and God would make sure of that.

Once, I was young. And how I've grown, matured, experienced what 19 years of life can throw at a person. Meeting up with an old friend, and seeing her cynicism at the system and life in general, I saw myself for a moment. She was so sure about getting that scholarship, sure she could score that A, that distinction, sure she would be the next success story based purely on her ability and drive. However, life has a way of taking away those things that seem to matter most to you, leaving you with what seems to be nothing. However it is only life's way of showing you something which matters more.

My friend may not have gotten those grades, that scholarship, but she has gained something more. The experience of such failure to attain her goals, only teaches one to accept and move on. With her type of drive and passion, I think she will go far in life, much farther than if she were bonded and stuck in a civil service job and led down a path which others have laid for her. She's a runaway locomotive, looking for tracks to guide her to the next stop.

Why do I see myself in her example? I have failed too and failure has shown me what matters more. Only difference being I'm already at the door, and looking at the DZ, ready to jump and knowing where to land. I may be disillusioned at times, not being able to see my objective which may be covered by clouds of self-doubt. I may be blown off course by the winds of necessity, when change will force me to alter my course. But the dream of being able to reach out and touch someone and give hope to those who feel they are forsaken, to "protect the weak, spur the faint-hearted, curb the unruly..." (If the 01 Oath of Responsibility becomes a guiding principle in our lives, the world will be a better place), will be my personal compass, that true North which will never shift, and which will put me on the path to my DZ.

"Sticks in the wind" is a signal given to airborne troops to jump, taking that leap into the wild blue, stepping off the only solid ground, the only reality we have known, putting all we have to gamble that the chute will open, that the wind wouldn't be too strong, that cloud cover won't be too heavy on that day, that the DZ is still within range. Taking that step out the plane, putting all we have on the line for that one chance to reach our goal, may seem too much to lose. But hey, how can one ever hope to fly without being prepared to take a fall first?

Give me the green light, I won't freeze at the door.

Don

Charlie Mike

Charlie Mike, or CM, or in military lingo, Carry on Mission. It means that an objective has not been met, but that the mission has to carry on anyway. Two weeks passed again, but what an eventful two weeks it has been. No longer is the A level results looming over my head, and the prospect of not passing out a threat hanging over me. I got my results, and I'm now a private.

But, there's a reason that I'm doing a Charlie Mike. Results weren't great, B, B, C, C and a disappointing B4 for GP. Definitely takes scholarships out of my grasp, and at first when receiving the results, that overwhelming sense of disappointment in not meeting expectations hit me. That same night, after receiving my results, I had to book in back to camp after again, failing on that same morning my Standard Obstacle Course by a timing of 10:48, 18 seconds too late, despite the best run of my life at the end. 4 March 2005, will remain as the lowest point in my life for quite some time.

Booking in at 1930, Sergeant gave me a quizzical look. The time to book in was 2100, I was way too early and recruits NEVER book in so early. But when he found out it was due to results, all he gave was an understanding look on his face, and these three words of wisdom. Life goes on. I got into an empty bunk, dumped my stuff one corner, got on my bed and stared at the whirring fan right above me.

Life never stood still until that moment. My mind just kept flashing back to the moment I picked up that result slip, and staring at it blankly. The pain of receiving the dismal results repeated itself, over and over again, each time piercing harder into me. My thoughts seemed so fixated on that moment, that it stopped time itself. I was so deep in depression if anyone read my diary entry on that day, they would probably think I was already doing my airborne course, without a parachute. I went as far as writing a last letter, the type which family and friends receive posthumously. Then, the whirring of the fans caught my eye. They kept moving, were moving all the time, and will continue to move. In a half-depressed. mostly maniacal mood, my interpretation of the fans moving was this.

Life goes on.

Despite what happens, when the shit hits the fan or when you're in a bed of roses, time still continues. And if there's one thing I picked up in 9 weeks of being a commando trainee, it's that when you feel drained or stumble and fall, you pick yourself up and move on. Every moment you may feel like you're dying, or that you cannot continue anymore, you remind yourself of one thing. You're not dead yet, and while you're still alive and can will yourself to stand on your own two feet, you keep moving until those legs give in, not when your mind wants to give up.

I accept defeat, but not surrender. It's in my character now, and soon I hope I can imprint that on my genetic code as well. The results may suck a whole lot, but it's over and I can't afford to sit down and moan about it. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise, allowing me to focus more on my mission in life, rather than trying to climb the ladder. My sights are now set on signing on, and doing well enough to qualify me for an overseas mission, and for this, I accept nothing but success.

Passing out today, I have moved out of a phase in life. No longer am I watching the front and waiting. No longer sitting in a foxhole, waiting. I'm out, charging into the future, and giving it the best run i can. It's all, and nothing not accepted.

In "The Last Samurai", just before they move in for a suicidal frontal charge, a "Pickett Charge" against a superior force, someone asked "Do you believe a man can change his destiny?"

The reply? "I believe a man does what he can, until his destiny is revealed." Life is just like that, a charge into an end, which we do not see yet. But it's not about the end that matters. It's the journey, and I'm walking it the way I feel is best. I may be breathing hard, feeling the weight on my shoulders, and the sweat trickling down my face. I may stumble, may even fall. But I'm determined to do one thing. Charlie Mike.

Don

Watch Your Front

It's been a long two weeks, spending a majority of it in the field. I'm totally burned out now, just came home from a gathering of my detachment. Few of us only, the others being totally off the bola and really not giving a shit about meeting up. "We see each other 7 days a week anyway." being the common line. Oh, and so is "My OC is a liar", "insert any imaginable line of complaint about life in the field". I don't get it, is kao bei so enjoyable? Must we be totally hypocritical and complain about everything under the sun, wait, everything including the sun? Everyone complains about the hot weather, then drinks up more then 12 litres of water everyday and pisses it all away all over the damn forest like water was free and easily available, forgetting that someone always had to fill all 100 jerry cans a few times a day. Everyone gets heat rash or abrasion, but don't give a damn about powdering down before sleeping, choosing to just plop down and go off to dreamland. Everyone gets cuts and bruises, but all act like babies and run to the medic expecting a quick fix-me-up all the time. Well guess what mother sons, you're in the army now. FORGET about living a comfortable, cushy life. YOU'RE a recruit, life is SUPPOSED to be tough. FIELD CAMP IS NOT A WALK IN THE PARK, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO EAT SOME SHIT, AND SWALLOW WITHOUT ASKING WHY.

I came into army expecting to come out a better person, I don't know what the rest of the company expected, but it seems more and more like they were expecting to be pampered. "3G army, where we get the gain without the pain." I think someone forgot what it meant to be a soldier. We sing the songs, to defend our land and our people with our lives, but don't mean it. They forget what it means to be an army, what it means to fight for what you stand for. Complacency has set in, and the "disease in the SAF" which my senior officers love to repeat is slowly eating away at the "thinking soldier", who thinks more of his own personal welfare and safety then the security of our nation, who wants to chao keng, run away, escape.

Retreat.

I fear what happens when the button is pressed, when push comes to shove, and Singapore has to stare an enemy in the eye. How many will hold the line? I know the regulars would, they understand the importance of what they have to do. But what about those whom we need to count on most, the man on the street? When that mobilization notice flashes, will he answer? From what I see, the picture ain't pretty. I hope that older generations, those who understand the value of our defensive force, do their part, because it seems the younger generation seem only interested in reaping without sowing.

I want to do my part in the army, but now that all depends on what comes out on 7th March, the release of my A level results. I'm sure of my role in the army, in wanting to correct the 'disease' any way I can, and also to protect all that I love and cherish. The senior officers in our company, some of them having spent more than 20 years in the army, pass on their experience but more importantly, their fervour in maintaining Singapore the way they got it when they were recruits. A place of opportunity, safe and secure, and always ready to adapt to the next coming age.

I stand at the crossroads now, one week before A levels, two weeks before passing out, the future of my life to be revealed in the time ahead. In two weeks, I will know where to go. But for now, I can only do one thing. Be ready, and watch my front.

Don

Into the darkness

Another short break before heading in again, this time for a longer haul. Booking in to field camp tonight, going over for a little adventure on another island. Not sure what to expect out in the field, but if it's anything close to scouting, then I think I'm in for a ride.

It seems to have become an endless cycle, this ritual of booking in and out. I don't know if it's fatigue or just plain boredom, but I'm starting to get the numbness, feeling an emotional desert when I book in and out. There doesn't seem to be anything to look forward to whether in or out of camp, just the same old cycle. I hope something comes along to break up the routine, it's starting to get to me, and paying the Institute of Mental Health a visit isn't exactly something I want on my calender.

Range and the idea of live rounds does give a kick, albeit a small one. I know all about the shitty feeling one gets when you stay too long out in the field, and that is going to be a major obstacle for everyone to overcome once we're out there. Range and grenades only serve as a temporary distraction, there's got to be more to keep one sane out there. Maybe the stars.

I forget, when was the last time I just looked up and appreciated the night sky. Seems like forever, but I vaguely recall looking up one night in camp, when all was dark and quiet, and the stars spanned the entire night sky. I had a dream, once so long ago, just to reach out and touch the stars. That childhood desire to reach to the heavens, be an astronaut, explore new worlds, wear cool-looking EVA suits and make Darth-Vader breathing noises. That dream faded, as did childhood and those younger times. Like I said to the Air Force interviewer who asked me what happened to my childhood dream to fly. "I'm no longer a child." But growing up, have I started to dream bigger dreams, or let reality shape those dreams smaller?

That final frontier, can we hope to explore it? In a world so troubled by strife and suffering, where even the human capacity for compassion and empathy seems limited, is the human desire to explore the unknown a valid one? A necessary one?

"Mankind is led into the darkness beyond our world by the inspiration of discovery, and the longing to understand"
-President Bush, Address to the nation on the loss of Space Shuttle Columbia

I dream the old dream.

From Zero to Hero

A hero. What does it take to become one? Doing the courageous thing? Daring to live your dream? Or the classic Black Hawk Down definition, "Nobody asks to be a hero. It just turns out that way." Like the guy in the picture, a lieutenant who flew into the hornet's nest, saw that some troops on the ground needed his help, and went in to knock out a couple of Japanese Zeroes. He flew to the rescue, twice, each time putting his life on the line, so that some other person could get away with his.

I'm seeing my inspiration in my own sergeant. He is truly the professional soldier, taking his job seriously and our training even more seriously. He's been to Iraq as part of Singapore's contribution to the reconstruction effort there. He has pride in his work, and takes the time and effort he deems necessary to get stuff done, right. Too bad we only get him for the first 3 months, and I'm probably shipping out anyway to be like Lieutenant Hanson.

I wonder if I'm truly ready to start the next phase of my life, ending years of study to exchange for another life, to be a pilot or a professional soldier. I'm sure about signing on, much to my parent's discomfort, because I believe in the mission of the SAF as not only to protect Singapore, but also as an extension of its diplomatic arm. Send me anywhere I need to be to make a difference, I don't want to be cooped in an office cubicle, like my sergeant likes to put it. I guess it's just a bit overwhelming to decide the rest of your life on a single form, signing off 12 years of my life to the armed forces. But it's been done by so many before me, and if I heard correctly, by too many these few years. Hope I get my chance to fly the Rafale / Eurofighter / Apache, top of the line. I don't mind being a high class taxi driver or lorry driver, but given a chance, I rather be thrown in a fighter and just set loose.

Heard the State of the Union a few mornings back, when the fever bug caught me and didn't let go. The ending of the speech caught me, political theatrics and all, "Each age is a dream that is dying, or one that is coming to birth. And we live in the country where the biggest dreams are born. The abolition of slavery was only a dream - until it was fulfilled. The liberation of Europe from fascism was only a dream - until it was achieved. The fall of imperial communism was only a dream - until, one day, it was accomplished. Our generation has dreams of its own, and we also go forward with confidence." I don't see my life as an age which is passing, I'm not that important, but what Bush has to say seems to have parallels to each person's life. One stage of life passes, no more schooling, but as it dies, another stage takes over, new dreams and aspirations. Will I grow out of this period, when the dream of making a difference dies out, replaced by other priorities like finding love or settling down, or will this dream grow on me?

I'm going to live my dream, but hey, it's not for me to decide where it takes me. It just turns out that way.

Don

On the ball

It's been two weeks since I enlisted, and I'm back for the weekend. Time passes quickly inside, the routine keeps one going, at least some form of predictability in life. Training is tough, but manageable still. I think they'll up the tempo and severity now, since the adjustment period is over, and they get free rein to do anything they wish now. I want to get a book before I go in, but have no idea what to get. There usually is enough free time for one to read, during the night when I have no calls to make. All those in my detachment seem to be attached, leaving me to quietly while away my time between 2130 and 2200. I don't see it as a curse, some quiet reflection time is usually good, and getting ready for the next day usually fills this period which I have at night. But I guess it's just envy on my part, seeing all the other guys having someone they can talk to, and have someone listen to them.

Just managed to pick up bits of pieces of news while I'm out. Taupok, Meulaboh, Presidential Inaugaration, all these things have happened as I stayed in the time capsule that is my base. The world speeds by while I do crunches and pull ups (or attempt to). Subscribed to Time magazine, hope that can keep me up to date from week to week. The SAF really is doing a good job in Aceh, seeing from the picture above how they mix with the locals. The peacetime SAF really is showing itself to be worthy of 6% of Singapore's GDP. I wonder if I'll get my chance to do some work like that as well. As a recruit, I guess my job now is just to get my basics right, learn as much as possible, and prepare to deploy when I'm ready.

Watched Hotel Rwanda on Friday, can't say it was really that moving, I guess because I read up on all the statistics and the news coverage, and the fact that the film was sanitised, made it less impactful. The scouts I watched with seemed surprised, like they never heard of the incident. Maybe when we were in primary school, such things never stuck in our minds. I faintly recall the "Rwandan Massacre" when I was in Primary 2 or 3, and if not for my history lessons on the failure of the UN, I probably would be as ignorant as others. Like the reporter said in the show, "People are going to watch this genocide on their TVs over dinner, they're going to say 'Oh my god, those poor people'. Then they're going to continue eating their dinner."

It really seems so true, that the colour of our skin really matters. The only reason why the Western world even bothers with aiding in the tsunami is because white people in Phuket and Sri Lanka were involved. I don't recall the same amount of effort being spared to help those in the Iran Bam earthquake last year, or the Sudan crisis. I don't know how long it will take to realise that despite the colour of our skin, or the choice of our faiths, we are all still human. Maybe the next Ice Age.

I guess I'll have to try my best, sort the world out one person at a time. That's how miracles start, one small step at a time, and with determination to carry the task through, staying on the ball and sticking with it all the way, we'll make it. Like my former RJ principal once said, "The impossible we do now. Miracles, take a little longer."

Don

Under Section 11 of the Enlistment Act...

I enlist tomorrow morning, and I guess this is a goodbye. As my parents put it, a goodbye to the boy that was Brandon, who will now change. For better or worse, that we will have to see, but I guess it's something that we have to go through. Change, the only constant. I started this blog with that in mind, I hope I can start army life and like it just as much as I always think I will.

It's something I always look forward to, a new beginning, away from all the schooling and the people I know since Secondary 1. That second chance to start anew, I'm getting tomorrow. I hope I make an impression, and hope that all my dreams in army can be pushed through with sheer effort on my part. Officer, Sword of Honour, and being on an international mission. I can only cross my fingers that the commandos get sent over to Meluaboh, I do want to get my hands dirty and actually do something to help others. Let's hope the red berets are truly the pride of the army, and get some time overseas helping others, and not let the tan berets get all the attention all the time.

To a new beginning, and a brighter time ahead.

Cheers,
Don

They ask me why

Private First Class Edward J. Moskala, charged 60 meters to enemy machine-gun emplacements to destroy them with grenades. Covered the withdrawal of his squad, for three hours. Found that one of his squadmates was left behind, without hesitation charged back to get him. Protected the wounded while help was sought, found another man left behind, went charging into enemy fire to get his buddy back from the jaws of death, before being mortally wounded. Awarded Medal of Honor, the highest military decoration in the U.S. Armed Forces.

This happens ever so often, and World War Two may have been 60 years ago, but courage like this still lives on. Why do men take such risks to themselves, for others? Ask our Hollywood composite character Hoot in Black Hawk Down, he'll give the classic response a Delta guy, any army dude, would give. "They won't understand, that it's not the war, it's about the man next to you. That's all, nothing else matters."

Military types think only they have this type of bond, but I guess the current disaster shows otherwise. The ourpouring of goodwill is unprecedented, you cannot imagine how much aid is being poured into the affected regions. I was working as a volunteer at SPH, and the amount of logistics we are sending over is phenomenal, there is no wonder why a bottleneck occurs, I cannot imagine any airport, cow herds running over the runway or not, will be able to cope with all the materiel. And aid money is estimated at 2 billion dollars, well over a hundred times worth the initial amount pledged. Some may call this guilt at work, we are alive and well but they aren't so let's pour in money to assauge our guilt. I call it basic compassion. We feel for those who may be thousands of miles away, in a totally different life, because we are all human. Religion, culture, politics, take a back seat.

And look who are on the ground first, providing the humanitarian assistance. Soldiers, the military. U.S. , Singapore, Indonesia, Australia, Sri Lanka, India, Thailand, all have military personnel on the ground first to do the heavy lifting. The next time some pacifist goes rioting, asking for world peace and demanding an end to starvation and suffering, let him see who first goes in to give the helping hand. The next time some idiot at the U.N. complains how much the U.S. spends on the military instead of humanitarian aid, he should be denied space on the aircraft carrier sailing on a beeline to the devastated region. Maybe people should be reminded, that those with the greatest power to take lives, also have the strongest urge to give life back. These are the guys who will not only do it for their brothers-in-arms, but also anyone in particular. That's what they exist for, to defend lives and livelihood, and I swear the next idiot who comes up and complains about the military being useless/unworthy/wasteful/no longer valid, will never hear the end of me. No other organisation can muster the strength and discipline needed to truly provide the aid necessary for the victims. Who will do the airlifts, clear the roads, mop up the area, bury the dead, set up the refugee camps, and organise all the aid? Not the Red Cross which does not have such equipment (besides if they do, they don't have the expertise), or some church or mosque which can send all the money and a token number of people but not its congregation who nevertheless can only go there and pray for aid since they have no organisation whatsoever to handle the humanitarian work, or some aid organisation or the U.N. .

Why the military? Precisely because they don't ask why, they do the necessary without the questions. Like PFC Moskala, only the military can see if something needs to be done, and do it, well and without any bureaucratic nonsense or politicking. Or at least without the notion or perception of it, much better than politicians or bureaucrats who take forever to decide what needs to be done, and still not do it. Soldiers do it, because that's what they signed up for, to help defend freedom, life, livelihood. Defend something, that's what they work towards. Civil strife, genocide, terrorist camps, nuclear weapons proliferation, unrest, insurgency, natural disaster, man-made disaster? Send in the marines.

The weapons of war are the greatest tools for peace. Paradoxical? Open your eyes, and take a new look at that Chinook, LST, CVBG, C-130 Hercules, that man in camouflage uniform. He will make the difference, because he's trained to. You can ask him why he does it, but don't expect an answer. He's just there to do the necessary.

Don

An article on the Straits Times

Read this on the Straits Times today, an essay by Asad Latif, titled "Amid tsunami hell, a glimpse of heaven"

"THE words have all but become a signature line: Hell is other people.

Spoken by a character in No Exit, a play by French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre, the line captures the claustrophobia and hopelessness of a banal world where people loathe one another from the shallow depths of their fickle being and false words seduce communication.

There is more to hellishness, of course.

Hellish characters have peopled history and they lurk in the dark alleys of the present.

From Nazis, fascists and perpetrators of genocide, to those who profit from slave labour, to intellectuals who rationalise injustice or are silent about it, hell is these people.

Hell is ordinary people as well: corrupt bureaucrats, black marketeers who profit from food scarcity, the denizens of Third World high-rises who sleep peacefully while, in the slums below, children cry out in malarial delirium.

Hell is anybody who glides through life, gracefully immune to the blighted reality of millions of other lives.

But such is the destiny of man that if hell is other people, so is heaven.

Unfortunately, it sometimes takes a calamity to prove this truth.

The year 2004 ended with a resounding reminder of the truth.

Like the Greek Furies, the cataclysmic tsunami fell upon its victims with the pagan force of nature gone berserk.

Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, residents, foreigners, animals, trees, homes, shops, boats, cars - whatever stood in the way of the maddened waves was snatched up and swept along with manic abandon.

Everyone and everything was dispensable. What mattered was how angry the waves were, how far inland they invaded, how long they battered human habitation before retiring, clawing screaming innocents away from life and land.

The tsunami has left in its wake an epic trail of death and destruction.

The dead are gone. It falls on the living to wail, powerless to give even decent burials to family and friends who were torn out of their lives and, sometimes, their very hands.

Mankind stands reminded: Nature is more powerful than him. Nature is supreme. Nature's hidden moods determine the Darwinian rituals of life and death.

But mankind refuses to be humbled, to bow to tyrant nature's decree and give up on itself.

Even though battered by an earthquake that may have permanently accelerated the Earth's rotation and altered the global map, humans have reached out to one another in the very midst of their collective punishment.

Heaven is such people.

Stories abound about them.

People who lost almost everything themselves offered clothes to protect the modesty of a couple whose clothes were ripped off by the ferocity of nature.

There have been reports of looting, pillaging and theft, of course. It does not take long after the waters have subsided for human nature to sink to its lowest common denominator.

But far more numerous have been uplifting stories of human solidarity.

My colleague Ben Nadarajan reports from Sri Lanka about the head monk of a Buddhist temple on a hill. The monk had looked with disdain at the people pandering to the foreigners who lazed on the beach, played in the water, and gathered around the seafood and the nightlife.

But since the calamity struck, the monk has turned host to about 1,000 of the same people, whether tourists or locals.

The stricken have found a place to stay at three temples.

Truly have houses of worship fulfilled their human mandate as well.

Over in Iran, where thousands were killed by an earthquake in Bam a year ago, an Associated Press report mentions struggling survivors thinking of the victims in this part of Asia.

'Some school kids came to me and asked how they could help people in South-east Asia,' a primary school teacher said.

Across the world, including in Singapore, the response to appeals for aid has been overwhelming.

Looking at the outpouring of human solidarity, it is impossible not to think that heaven is other people.

Heaven is other people working for the community, compassion and comradeship. These are the higher possibilities of the human condition.

People are working for them.

For me, the tsunami has brought about a rather strange conversion.

Coarsened by the hellish suffering that has become commonplace around a six billion-strong globe, I have wondered for some time whether there are not too many humans around for their own good.

Famine, pestilence, war, civil war, religious strife, inhumanity to the old, the infirm, children: these multiplying attacks on humanity are fuelled, after all, by the sheer numbers of people who are willing to kill, or are helpless to fight and are therefore ready to die.

Perhaps a world of three billion would have fewer monsters and victims, I thought. The scale of human iniquity might go down even if the propensity towards violence did not, I thought.

Then came the tsunami - and the heartbreaking images.

And this old, calloused heart of mine stirred. I saw each death for what it was - one too many.

The vile idea that there are too many humans vanished.

I looked more carefully for signs of life in the murderous epic. I found them in stories of humans holding hands and facing the ravages of chance.

I realised: Hell might be other people, but so is heaven.

And heaven is more powerful than hell."

Maybe there is hope for the human race after all. Score one for the humanist good guys.

Don. PS, Happy new year, may pure, simple humanity take the wheel this year and let compassion flow forth.

Sea surge

The tragedy is "unprecedented", the devastation "unimaginable". So many countries hit in so little time. An earthquake in Aceh measuring 9.0 on the Richter scale, detected first by the US Geological Survey, causes a tsunami which hits Indonesia, Phuket, Thailand, Penang, Malaysia, India, Sri Lanka and even states in the East African belt. The toll is set to rise above the 100,000 mark before the year ends. International relief efforts have been sent from as far as the US, which pledged the highest amount of aid set at US$50 million dollars. Britain and Australia follow closely behind with pledges of US$30 million or thereabouts. And of course, the EU with its 25 member countries and the world's highest GDP per capita, donates a measly US$4 million, dwarfed already by the contribution from Singapore.

It's quite a sight, seeing how many different groups of people band together when a common threat exists. And once that problem goes away, we resort to the same behaviour of fighting among ourselves. Aceh is one of those states which wanted to break away from the Indonesian archipalaego, it's independence hopes crushed when the Indonesian military moved in. Now look at who go begging to that same government who not too long ago it was telling to screw off. And that military which was not too long ago shooting people in Aceh is helping with relief efforts. In Sri Lanka, no matter if you're Tamil or Sinhalese, Buddhist or Hindu, when the waves come, nature gives the same treatment. And because it's holiday season, we have tons of tourists from all over the world scattered throughout the many island resorts, which by the way consists of a large number of Europeans (EU better wake up), a truly international humanitarian crisis exists. It's strange that so many people must die before the rest of us wake up and do something, together. A tragedy of such proportions is necessary for international cooperation?

Furthermore, it's not a uniform level of commitment from all parties. As mentioned already, the EU has the most reason to help but seems to flounder when it is needed most (Iraq anyone?). Further demonstrates that they are just full of Chirac nonsense and irrelevant until they can get their act together. However more tellingly, it depends which country you are from that the aid amount differs. The Bam earthquake in Iran last year was just as bad, but guess what, you're Iranian and since you insist on holding on to some nuclear technology, go rebuild your own damn country. The fault of the government burdens the people. But guess what, in government you get what you deserve, and from a theocratic government which the people ushered in less than 3 decades ago, this is what you get. No aid and lots of bullshit on the international stage. In Indonesia, where the democratically elected President watches as key members of his government who are needed most in this crisis cut loose and run, corruption runs rampant. The disaster is a reminder that unless SBY is serious about dealing with corruption, this is the kind of crap he faces each time the shit hits the fan. Instead of ministers doing their job when they are needed, they find the nearest hole to hide in.

I live less than a thousand kilometers from the epicentre, and felt the slight tremors which reverberated throughout the island when Aceh was hit. No tsunami, thankfully, but no lack of compassion either. The amount of money donated by Singaporeans to date now goes several times above the amount the government pledged. The Red Cross alone has received the same amount the government has pledged from walk-ins to its office, and different organisations, even my former school, is doing something to help the affected people. I'm sure this scene is repeated in about any country on Earth with news channels now. Pessimists may say this is a slow week, and as news channels have nothing else to broadcast, the disaster takes centrestage everywhere and people get out all their year-end bonuses to help. In this case, even the pessimistic view has optimistic undertones. Individuals are doing their utmost in helping others they don't even know, putting money and aid in the hands of people far from their own homes. Shouldn't you too? Go to the Red Cross website and do your part.

They say it's an omen that 2004 ends in this manner, and the beginning of 2005 is greeted with such tragedy. But I say we must see the bright spark in the darkness, that in tragedy we see compassion for our fellow human beings, regardless of race, religion or creed. The event does not signal any change or reveal any new trends in world behaviour. Mother nature does not have a political agenda, if plates have to move, they move. No omens or portents exists, and we should not try to taint the new year with any predictions or otherwise. Right now, the most pressing thing to be done is to do what we can for the tsunami victims, and let learning to empathise be on our list of resolutions for next year.

Don

Faith keeps us standing

Invictus
by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul

Believe.

Ring Out, Wild Bells
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Merry Christmas, and may we remember those who serve and preserve the peace we enjoy. Oh, and screw the last line.

Don

Tis the season, again

I'm feeling totally stoned. 8 hours sitting at the Aeromedical Centre, with a stupid machine blowing air into my eye every hour, to measure my eye pressure. Not only did I discover how boring TV programmes are in the morning, I have discovered Einstein's Theory of Relativity all over again. The PAINFUL WAY. Time really passes more slowly when all you got to do is nothing. At least found a new friend while stoning my time away, VJ's volleyball captain. I look like a complete joke next to the guy, who is buffed and looks ready to punch my lights out. Good luck in NDU bro.

At least tomorrow promises to be an interesting day, with a good dinner and something to do after it. Hope we can make it more memorable, last few chances to meet before I go in, and haven't seen you since prom. I have no idea what to give you for a present, so I hope you don't get me one, and make me look totally guilty and embarassed.

Mogilan comes out on Christmas day, the guys(tm) will probably surround him and find out more about army, and get to finally solve the mystery if the skin under all that hair on his head is truly as dark as the rest of him. Hope we can have a wonderful last meet at my place on the 31st, just like old times, like how we did when we were just getting into J1.

Just read about the bombing in Iraq, this one hitting the mess tent for the troops. It's odd, the season for peace is just around the corner and militants are taking the chance to hit out at the troops. US is closing the consulate in Surabaya because they are afraid that with Christmas, they are most likely to be bombed by militants. What respect these barbarians show for a peaceful celebration, and this gives proof of how stupid religion can make people become. The holier the day is on the religious calender, the more likely violence is about to break out, even if it's the celebration of peace and joy. What irony. Perhaps if we spent less time celebrating the birth of Jesus, and spent more time on actually building peace around the world, perhaps if we stop spending money on gifts for people we know and put that money in the hands of those who deserve it, perhaps if we just stop fooling ourselves in mindless beliefs which are more than 2000 years old and totally inapplicable in the world which exists now, and put that faith into people who actually do a goddamn thing in making peace possible today, we would have that world of peace and joy every damn Christmas carol goes on and on about.

The iconic hypocrite, I am. I have no idea how I'm going to build that peace and joy, even the chance seems slim. MM Lee just gave had a Q&A session to some foreign correspondent's society in Singapore, and damn if that the guy isn't the most well informed man this side of the world. Who ever heard of the Maastricht Agreement? He can talk about the state of the Euro, the state of Sino-Singapore relations, and the state of Myanmar with impeccable knowledge on all of them. Anyway, he was asked if Singapore would commit troops to Iraq, and to that he gave a flat no. Although the reason was valid, parents would probably object if their sons were forced to Iraq during NS, and the corp of regular soldiers are all officers, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. Singaporeans still can't give a shit about lending others that hand. I hope when I get in, maybe one man can make some things change, and that deployment may be more than just a dream. And wearing a blue helmet won't just be another unfulfilled promise to myself.

Charity sees the need not the cause.

German Proverb

To be. Or not.

It's quite an experience, when you sit in a chair facing an interview panel which not only holds the power over allowing to get what you want, but loves to get into friendly conversation with you as well. Irony? It's not been my first time facing such high stakes cloaked in cheerful banter, prefect and council interviews, head-prefect interview, GC, AC interviews. I guess this is different because for once, I was not sure if what the panel had to offer, was what I wanted.

"So why do you want to be fighter pilot?"

"I'm not sure I want to be one." Ouch. You can imagine the stares I was getting for that one. Facing a trained psychologist, 2 senior pilots and a lieutenant colonel, I did as I usually do for interviews, tell the truth. The whole, bloody, stinking truth. And nothing but it. I swear.

And sweat for my answers too. The interviewers were relentless, giving me the rope to hang myself. I guess I was quick enough to tie the lasso and throw it back on them, because surprise surprise, they gave me the letter. With a contract in it, to be a pilot trainee and work with the air force. You would think I'll be jumping for joy, being offered a career before A level results are released. I thought I should too, but look at me now.

Confused, totally and utterly without an idea what the rest of my life should be spent on. I looked at the contract all night in the chalet, and this morning I look at it again with the same feeling. This was a dream come true, that childhood dream which I had not too long ago. But as I told the interview panel, I'm not a child no more. We grow up, we learn that there is such a thing as responsibility, the rose-tinted glasses come off.

I spent the night at Sentosa with the Group, playing Risk and listening the GC debate the same things we did not 2 years ago. They still have the idealism to carry it through, and I envy the innocence they still possess. The old boys were just there to relive old times, when the world was so much simpler, just Scouting and schooling. I look at those faces last night and the guys no longer seemed young and eager as they were when I met them in Secondary Two. But they were just as passionate to get that innocence back. We played and drank the night away, with Risk and stupid dare games and lots of Coke, no beer or alcohol. Just as we had before. We talked and listened, stoned and did lots of thinking. What future to come, what had past, didn't matter because the important moment was the present.

And now, the letter stares me in the face again. The future. What's to come, and I can decide it now. I must.

"The world is full of people whose notion of a satisfactory future is, in fact, a return to the idealised past."
Robertson Davies

Hold the line

"For the honor of the fallen,

For the glory of the dead,

The living line of courage held the faith,

and move ahead."

Hope.

The end, prom nite came and went. But the devil is in the details. It started off on a wrong foot, and almost ended up a disaster. But I guess the saving grace was not in the event itself, but what it meant to me and the rest of those I know.

Many saw prom as the end, graduation as goodbye and farewell. But I guess I got a better deal, making a new friend, hopefully a good friend, in one night. It started off rather coldly, but I guess all things take time. The photo-taking went like the flash of the camera, many snaps but soon it fades. Then I thought I had lost her in the crowd, or she had gone back to the room, and I had absolutely lost my chance to have the chat I had looked forward to all evening. But she didn't disappoint. The long walk to the Esplanade, the initial reluctance, we overcame. We talked, walked, sat, and talked some more. So many things I learnt in just two hours, and I so wish I had known her earlier. There was so much yet to be said, but I guess, the rest of it will have its own time and place. I hope to meet you again soon.

Sitting at the lobby at Conrad, I was stilled psyched up, and I'm just the luckiest guy around I guess. So many people popped by, and conversation was light, but poignant due to the inherent goodbye. Pamela and her uniqueness, Lingli (rest assured we haven't said our final goodbye) and ... , 'Mum', the scouts, the old classmates. I just sat on the sofa as the world popped by, alone at first but soon enough surrounded by familiar company.

0400, though not everyone appeared, it was still significant. Shows one thing, the scouts never play out. Never disappoint. And I guess the sense of virtue and honor which 01 instilled in us still holds strong, we are still the 'guys of honor'. No one can ever take that away.

Then silent walking, along the Esplanade, WWII memorial, Padang, City Hall, all the way back to the hotel. It was precious time spent on precious thought, memories. I have eluded sleep long enough, but in the process, found some hope, of something new and promising. I'm going to do my best to make sure this night has not gone to waste.

"Faith is, at one and the same time, absolutely necessary and altogether impossible."

Stanislaw Lem

The new beginning

...This is the preferred prom gear.

A Marine's dress blues. I wonder if I can ever get the honor of wearing that. As a Marine. I have an idea of how to get myself in those shoes, but a chance which is so small that it is tempting to say there is no chance at all. Perhaps all I need is some time in the military, see how life is, then maybe I can make a sound choice. But truly, I see myself in no other vocation which can sustain me for the rest of my life. Perhaps just a short-sighted youth with no work experience speaking now. I will get that chance soon, a military life awaits me, but I guess I'm going to enjoy my first months of basic.

It's over, an entire chapter of my life. Studies no longer, I will probably reminisnce of this period of life where everything did not matter so much, where innocence still existed as more than just a word in my vocabulary. A reality which will disappear, with the real world sinking in deeper. It's funny how we always look back in wonder, at how we never appreciate the moments where time didn't matter, and life was simply a joy. I probably will only remember the camps, my failed attempts at soccer, my first three months in AJ, my JC life with GC, the Guys(tm), my abysmal friendships in JC, and that overwhelming urge, to join the military. Perhaps I am made out to fit well in SCHCDO, SPECWARTAC.

Prom is the only day in my calender now. A long goodbye, and I truly hope, a last friendship to be made which would last. Thank you for acceptance. I hope I can make the best of what you have offered. May a friendship blossom in fading light.

A true waste of time again, but salvaging as always, a quote.

Someone once told me that time is a predator that stalked us all our lives. But I rather believe that time is a companion who goes with us on the journey that reminds us to cherish every moment because they'll never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we live it. After all, Number One, we're only mortal.
-Captain Jean Luc Picard

Don't give a damn about legacy, it will build itself from the way you choose to spend your life. Spend wisely.

Don

This is how I look...In prom gear. But...

Rounding the bend

What's round the corner? A question the Marine may be asking, and me as well. The conclusion of 12 years of schooling, and I'll be in the army next year. The next step will be stepping into the unknown, but what's round the bend you won't find out just standing there. I'm going to have to take the plunge, and find out just what life, army life, has to offer.

Just visited the blog of the guy who ratted out on the Marine unit he followed. Truth, that's his prerogative. He needed to make sure he put out the truth. Let the truth set you free they say. But that's just it, it doesn't. It just put someone behind bars, and made the battle for peace in Iraq one notch more impossible. Margaret Hassan's death occured around the time the news of the Marine shooting came out, Al-Jazeera chooses not to publicise the footage of her killing, but splashes images of the Marine shooting all over the headlines. Truth?

Fact, Marine may not have followed Uniformed Code of Military Justice. Fact, he would be punished nonetheless, with or without the publicity. Fact, Margaret Hassan was executed. Fact, she was defenseless. Fact, she helped the people of Iraq. Fact, the people who killed her are still on the loose, and people put more emphasis on the shooting of a known insurgent who probably killed innocent civilians. In all these facts, where is the truth? Our journalist publicised a fact, which simply hid the truth, and put a false image in peoples' minds, that Marines just enjoy nailing themselves some 'hajis' and totally give no shit about the rules. The media as a source of truth? That's a new one, anyone watched "Wag the Dog"? Truth can be created, and the media can manufacture one, splash pictures it creates and sway you with its words.

Hiram Johnson once said, "The first casualty when war comes is truth". Truth is something to be sought, the carrot on a stick which is always just a finger too far. We chase it, but it just remains out of reach. Does not mean we lose faith and forsake it, but we shouldn't go out of our way to distort it. Facts like the Marine shooting go out and simply skew the truth further, not bring us closer.

What a world I will go into. Where falsehood is perpetuated by facts, and the truth remains so elusive. The lesson which education will never teach, just experience. Before I lose my rose-tinted images of the world, and lose the belief that everyone can make a difference in this world, I can only hope that I do something to prove that perhaps there is still some good left in this world for me to save. Let's hope Mr. Frodo was right.

Don

The battle is over, but is victory one step closer? Is Iraq one battle less? Or has Fallujah been just the beginning? Mosul, Ramadi, Baghdad? Like late Yasser Arafat once said, to the United Nations General Assembly, "Today I have come bearing an olive branch and a freedom fighter's gun. Do not let the olive branch fall from my hand." Yasser Arafat could not stop his organisation from fighting, the olive branch fell and Israel and the dream of Palestine seems as far away now as it was then. Will a free Iraq, from dictator and now more importantly, from fear, ever have a chance? Someone get those Marines an olive branch each.