I wake up at 5.30am almost everyday in cold sweat, panicking to find my missing rifle and anticipating getting shouted at by sergeant.
Feeling dejected, I roll across the bed and stand up to realise that I’m not in outfield but in my bedroom. In the bathroom, I rush to complete everything asap, I’m out in five minutes tops. Have to report early. At the doorstep, I remember urgently that I forgot to polish my boots. I’m putting on sneakers.
During heavy rain/storm, the background droplets of rain
pelting the ground and striking claps of thunder. Suddenly I’m in the jungle, boots on muddied grass. The whistling of bullet noises all round me. I realise I’m out of position. I’m riding the MRT back home.
During meals, I begin by eating as fast as I can, dreading the shell-scrape I have to dig later. There’s no objective to meet, to rush to wait and there’s a perfectly good toilet in the cafeteria I’m at.
When I’m called upon to answer, ingrained man-mode kicks in. I’m on the courtyard where the safe answer is the best answer or it’s hands and feet on the ground where the gruelling cycle of physical discomfort begins. I’m in tutorial on campus.
It’s been almost a year out of out of the jungle but for some reason, a part of me remains there.
Here are what netizens think:
- You kena scarred already
- He is a true patriot who has served his country faithfully. We are thankful for his service and dedication.
- Maybe you kena mind-F in the army until now you cannot leave it.
- Trust me bro, few more years u sure forget, but wait reservist come u kena reminded again