Pick it up lah!

Reservists don't look like that
What reservists don’t look like

It rained all of yesterday, pissing down on all of us while we were at the combat shoot range near Pasir Laba Camp (or Pasir Labia Camp, as we called it, which is built around Bukit Vagina, as we giggled some more like secondary school boys, but you know, it’s a bit tiring to talk about how vulgar our conversations are when we’re in reservist.)

Strangely, we weren’t as miserable as we ought to have been – being in wet clothes for what, twenty hours or so and being stung by mosquitoes hardy enough to withstand our saturation spraying of much Off as well as our liberal application of many citronella patches all over ourselves.

As a platoon mate, who shall not be named because these days, if you get named on this blog, everyone in your office gets to know about your exploits in camp, and I really don’t want that to happen to you. Unless you want it to. If so, leave a comment and I’ll insert your names…

As I was saying, this platoon mate says to a bunch of grumbling fellow troopers who’ve started a conversation with, “Wah lao, this kind of rain won’t stop one leh!”, that we should “think about it. How often do you get to walk in the rain?”

I think he meant for us to try to enjoy our day out, and the conversation veered to how some people pay good money to enjoy getting stung by mosquitoes and other sundry insects while getting drenched on eco-tours.

You’d understand by now that despite being in uniform and bearing the latest in automatic rifles and Army gear, we weren’t thinking about how proficient we were going to be as soldiers – something which, in this 9th year of reservist (I have to keep calling it that though I know the official name is National Service) training, is getting increasingly laughable given our creeping ages.

The upshot is that for most of us, safety was always going to be the foremost consideration, as an exchange at the combat range between the control point officer and a safety specialist, over loundhailers, in the dark, would testify:

SS: “Hold it! Wait! Wait! Wait!”

CP: “Yes, what?”

SS: “Live round (bullet)! Live round!”

CP: “Where is it? Is it stuck in the chamber (of the rifle)? Is it double chambering?”

SS: “No!”

CP: “Then where?”

SS: “On the ground!”

CP: “Wah lau! Then pick it up lah! Idiot!”

Much laughter ensued. And so, yes, W, you missed out on a good one.

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8 responses to “Pick it up lah!”

  1. James Avatar

    Kinda miss my army mates- been overseas for 6 years already!

    Wonder if I’ll get posted to the same unit as them when/if I return

    More reservist stories!

  2. smootha86 Avatar

    was doing sentry duty at gate C, “Firers, watch your front, watch your front~!” haha

  3. Pat Law Avatar

    Thank god we haven’t imposed the “women-too” rule. Jimmy Choos doesn’t make no army boots do they?

  4. W Avatar

    My gawd! That story is hilarious.

  5. W Avatar

    My gawd! That bullet story is hilarious!

    And wahlau. The traffic on my blog has jumped threefold. My computer can’t handle it. The servers are going to crash…

  6. holyhunk Avatar

    Hey brother, I’m just so bloody envious of you…having superhuman skills in balancing personal pursuits and national obligations!

    Was I glad I didn’t have to put myself through the same gruelling challenge last year, when I immersed myself in Korean honeymoon juice without having to worry about touching down on homeground in time for national duty.

    Come March, my turn to get military. I actually look forward to 2 weeks away from work. Mine is a healthy mix of canteen breaks and jungle deployment. I get to stay out for more than a week too. Good life huh…

  7. holyhunk Avatar

    Finally, my turn to fulfil my military obligations to the country.

    Mine’s a stay-out during the first week, followed by a 3D2N exotic jungle stay in the remotest north of Singapore.

    I see new faces in the midst of old and familiar faces whom I hang around with. And yes, i also have to bear with old faces which have never failed to put me off year after year. The ones that go around cursing and swearing like there’s no tomorrow.

    Funny, how I like being in uniform as much as I hate being in the army. Maybe it’s the male ego syndrome. Smoking in uniform, half-naked in Number 4 slacks and resting my boots high up on the table in the bunk, talking cock with a bunch of uniformed bengs.

    Sigh. I need counselling for having a weird military fetish!

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