The dual life of the ordinary member of the male populace

Just like a freshly-baked cookie that has come out of the oven, I have now emerged from the organisation that has retained custody over me for the last two years: the SAF. Although I've not quite come out as delicious as I was hoping to after two years, there have been some marked differences about me that people might find desirable, yet there are a few things that bug me. The most perturbing issue is that I've become too comfortable with routine and directive. Now that I've been re-endowed with a civilian title, I've realised that this has become a stumbling block, and this state of being, coupled with a few comments I've received and a whole lot of other observations, has led me to muse about the predicament of the male citizen of Singapore.

In case you've not been filled in, every male citizen who is above the age of 18 in Singapore has to undergo a mandatory two years of National Service in various fields, be it the army, air force, navy, police force or civil defence. There are many politically acclaimed reasons for having this system in place. The paramount reason is that Singapore's regular force is too small to support the nation, and therefore a pool of operationally trained reservists must exist to be deployable in times of crisis. Other silly and over-hyped reasons include inculcating love for country, racial harmony, ruggedness to weather hard times, etc.etc. A lot more attention is given to the men who are in the midst of their two years of full-time National Service (NSFs), but the situation of the Operationally Ready NSmen who've completed their two years (or a measly 1 yr 10 mths for some, harumph) is mostly under the covers. I'm quite sure it's because elation has overtaken these 'free men', who no longer have to contend with the difficulty, the monotony, the antipathy, the whatever-thy of NS anymore. They don't wish to admit that they've got an even bigger problem than the NSF. And my being declared as Operationall Ready has made me painfully aware of this situation that belies the deepest recesses of the Operationally Ready NSman's heart. Therefore, it is my desperate obligation to comment on it.

Now that I've concluded my lengthy introduction, if you're still with me, it must be made unmistakably clear that an NSman is NOT A FREE MAN at all. In fact, there's an uglier reality to the whole idea of being operationally ready. What the lay-NSF doesn't realise is that when he gleefully shouts "ORD OH!" he's actually proclaiming doom and death upon himself, because being declared operationally ready means that at the ring of his phone or flash of some conspicuously baffling two lettered nonsense code phrase, he must immediately don his uniform again and put his life on the line for his country (or in less severe cases, trudge back to camp to show his face). He still must endure up to 10 more in-camp trainings (ICT), an affair which may be annual. I did touch on the fact that he may be mobilised to prove that he can be ready in a matter of hours should the nation need him. These inconveniences are rarely contemplated during the immediate release of a NSF back to the civil world (because anything that isn't the army is bliss, and bliss is ignorance since mathematically speaking the statement is equivalent to 'ignorance is bliss'***).

And that is where the trap begins: Being relegated back into the society of civilians. Firstly, there seems to be a pervasive belief that being a civilian is the highest rank you could ever attain, and the mistake that men make is that they allow themselves to be fooled into thinking they are purely civilians once again, forgetting that they're doubling up as frontline defence for the nation, and allowing this haughty thought to override their senses. I thought it was a joke but it seems that people are allowing this belief to creep into their brains and take over it. A soldier is a slave of the nation (the alternate unabbreviated version of NS is National Slavery) and civilians make up the nation. I hope I'm not being too hasty in my interpretation of my observations, but for those who staunchly believe that they're above any uniformed organisation, I'd like to kindly remind them that they are not. Soldiers, police and firefighters have volunteered to be duty-bound to protect and maintain the safety and security of the nation. There might come a time (God forbid) when your civilian way of life may be threatened and you have to entrust your lives into the hands of the men in green (no matter how hard it is to trust them, you just gotta have faith that they are operationally ready).

There comes the next problem. If there comes a time (God forbid) when men do have to perform their duties, how prepared will we be? Gosh, in a few months time I don't think I'd remember how to strip my rifle and reassemble it. I cringe to think that in the battle field, my M16 might jam and I'd have no idea how to remedy the IA (situation which requires Immediate Action). That the enemy would charge toward me and I'd be stuck with a rust-bucket of a rifle, and then remember that I forgot my close combat techniques. Ok, the truth is that due to my logistics vocation, I wouldn't have to be in this situation. But still on the topic of battlefield bloopers, I don't think I'd remember how to overcome the clunky and disobedient gears of the land-rover, or if my MB 290 were to have a fuel filter choke, I wouldn't have the slightest clue how to clean the bugger out and get my engine to run again. By then the enemy would've realised that this idiot is more busy fixing his vehicle and will move in to make the kill. I've always dreamt of running down a whole platoon of enemies but how would that be possible with a stationary and non-responsive vehicle? In the meantime, there'd be comrades deeper in the battlefield who'd be denied their yummy lunches (artillery men always have fresh rations :D). With the vehicle long expired, they'd probably be forced to dig holes and start cooking maggi mee. Oh wait, how do you cook maggi mee outfield again? We will be victorious only if the enemy dies laughing. Having been spoilt by the luxuries only the civilian life has to offer, and with very infrequent training and revision, how will the war be won? It makes it more unnerving when you come to realise that most of the male population would be involved in a war, and God knows how many would come back intact. That would probably not be too much of a problem anyway; local males aren't romantic anyway and their absence will push females to pursue the foreign candy that have so enamoured them all this time.

Fortunately, the SAF is a very strong and operationally ready force. We have NEVER LOST A WAR (because we have never been in one). But that's because our forefathers have enacted sound policies and relentlessly developed unshakable diplomatic ties with surrounding nations such that we won't have any enemies, and if we do have any enemies we will still have friends to bash them up before we have to do the dirty work.

While I have been focusing on how our poor men with dual-identities have to struggle with coming to terms with their partial military status, there are some nuts who have to struggle with their new found partial civilian status. A sad victim would be, yours truly. Having been drilled with the mundanity of military routine, I've become too comfortable and reliant on the perks the army has to offer, such as free lodging, free meals, free medical and dental benefits, free aerobics and gym classes, etc. etc. Although I am glad to be 'free' once again, I am also filled with trepidation with how I'm going to live my new life which I had absolutely lost for two years. I shared with a friend a few weeks before ORD-ing that I feared that one day after I had been given my pink IC, I might accidentally wake up at 5.30am and take a bus to my camp at 7am in a stupor, only to realise once I'm at the guard house that I'm not supposed to turn up anymore. The reality of the civil world is a harsh one. In the army, you were well taken care of, as a reward for the sacrifices you were making for the nation. You learnt the meaning of friendship, camaraderie, watching your buddies back, building lasting relationships based on love and mutual understanding, and racial harmony (the racial harmony lesson has been ongoing since primary school). However in the civilian world, you have to watch your own back, trust no one, struggle to reach the top, dog eat dog and chase paper. Sometimes, from the point of view of a civilian, I'd think that army boys are pampered. Sure, pampering comes at a price and that may be your life. But it's very obvious now that in this point in my life I have got to start taking charge of my own life, and that no one can help me but myself. It's sad and it's true.

I urge all female citizens of the nation to understand your male counterpart's suffering. When he doesn't want to go on a date, it's because he's thinking of how to disrupt his ICT. If he doesn't want to talk to you, it's because he's missing his BMT buddy and would rather talk to him (cue you're annoying him so please stop nagging him for a while). If he's spending less time with you and more time with the boys, it's because he spent two very special years of his life establishing bonds in ways you'd never imagine: area cleaning, rifle cleaning, PT and endless push-ups/ chin-ups, extra duties, field camp, trench digging, casevacs, and worst of all, booking in. You'll never understand because you've never been through it. But it's ok because whether we have a pink IC in our possession or not, we will be operationally ready for you and the nation when the call comes. We may live double lives, and that's larger than life itself.

And to all my BMT mates, army buddies, colleagues, seniors, Platoon sergeants, friends and fellow ORD-ers, thanks for the memories and ORD OH!!!

*** ignorance = bliss, therefore bliss = ignorance. Makes sense, doesn't it? I thought not.