Just as we always thought how moving into the next phase of life would foresee a change of elements, you can never comprehend what life hurls at you. School was full of tests, assessments, assignments and appraisals. Never knew how I could be facing that even when I'm serving the nation. Same old, same old. Was initially tasked to produce an essay titled "My Defining Moment in BMT" but being a self-proclaimed taichi master of the highest echelons, I managed to transfer my "qi", no responsibility, to another platoon mate. Like come on, he's from New Zealand. His accent alone is enough to blow the competition off the radar. 

Anyway, being the forlorn author of my autobiography, here's my version of my defining moment. You know how field camp is always referred to as the main highlight, crucial event and crux of our training? They have never been so right. It all started when we were supposed to march 12km to our field camp site. All hope was lost when we completed up to the 8km mark and the skies turned for the worst. Our hopes turned to despair when we were told that we would have to redo the entire distance again when we return. Never would we have known that was just the tip of the iceberg. Upon reaching the field camp site, our first task was to erect our tentage, something we have only attempted pathetically and failed miserably countless times. Furthermore, the ground conditions were atrocious, as our tent pins simply refused to be driven into a land full of rocks. However, the worst condition was that it was a slope we were on. When the torrential rains were upon us beginning on the second night, our belongings never stood a chance. The subsequent nights were just as absurd, with the intervals of threatening rain comparable to the pixels on this screen. On the fourth day, we barely accomplished 2 hours of sleep before the unforgiving waters from heaven irrigated into the shellscrapes we spent an entire day to create. Our days were filled with the hated task of putting on face camouflage, rolling in mud and having our uniforms caked in sludge. When even the dreaded heat rash came upon us, there was nothing the medic could do to relive us of the merciless imaginary needles stabbing us from behind. Every single movement simply gave rise to more discomfort, more aches and more pain. However, we all knew but were never prepared for what comes after: our parents' letters. Even the strongest of our lot could not hold back the tears, the homesickness, our duty towards the nation and our fathers' sacrifices for our nation and families. At the end of our situational assessment tests spanning two days, we couldn't control our happiness and jubilation when the our transport arrived. We were finally going home. It suddenly dawned on us that these days of misery were finally over. Going back to our company line, we would not even bat an eyelid to sit on the wet basketball court, or even lie down on it, because we know that we had it worse. All I could say was that those few days of seeming eternity had placed our views into a whole new  lens of perspective, allowing us to realise that we must never take all the things we relied on and depended on for granted ever again. And the only way we prevent that is by sustaining our sovereignty and taking our nation's defence in our own hands.           

Never thought the day would come, or at least, so quickly, but here goes: It's Countdown 30 days to POP! Cue dramatic fireworks and merrymaking. The truth is, I have already initiated the next phase of my life by enlisting in the army. Although it may seem as a drag and all, having lesser time to spend with your loved ones, adhering to a strict rule of regimentation and discipline, and most of all being somehow coerced into serving the nation at a time where we were living in pure freedom. In all fairness, I have to admit I was and still is a complainer of sorts. The security and welfare of the people we interact with everywhere is brought about only by preserving the sovereignty of our nation.

After going through what could arguably be said as the most gruelling six days of my life, the words of my Platoon Commander really struck me hard. The fact that he's only 20 but displaying the maturity and critical thinking of an age miles ahead of him really earned my respect. Roughly quoted: Our father's were put through far more arduous and fatigue-inducing training regimes back in the days where army welfare was almost unheard of. Still, he fulfilled the duty in order to protect the nation and ultimately protect his family. Now that the baton has been passed to us, what gives us the right to forsake the cause that they had been fighting for all along, just because the going gets tough? Take it as a duty, a responsibility. Do it for your family, even if not for the nation. Your mindset, thinking and maturity grows with time, but fitness is something you are imbued with, and have the liberty to correct. Imagine a scenario whereby your mother's handbag gets snatched by a robber. Will you chase down that insolent "f***er" and beat the living daylights out of him? Do you even possess the ability to chase him down? Do it for your loved ones and yourself. Think of family and yourself, if not your nation. It's your duty as a son, a brother, a role model. Make your son proud of you in future by fulfilling your duty as a dad. Will you want him to give up as easily as yourself? What right do you have to encourage him and give him strength when you did not even give it your all when your opportunity arose?