I've given up on trying to write a diary on Tekong Resort, especially with the BMT phase coming in. And by right I shouldn't be revealing too much military information. But heck man, it's not like I have any access to military information that can endanger every lives living on this island.
Legendary Tekong cough has seemed to spread like wild fire. Partly because the bastards in 'school' don't exactly practise personal hygeine. Funnily enough, everytime someone starts coughing in the middle of another middle of a speech by one of the big(ger) shots, there's bound to be a consecutive fire of coughs by these jokers, so much so to the extent that the sirs are doubting our devoted attention to what they have to say.
Even I had to go see the M.Os. (medical officers) for my cough,
no thanks to Alvin for his intermitent coughing spells, and also for not covering his mouth.
Somehow, the sirs for our platoon marched into the lecture hall the day before, caught many people sleeping (about 15 of them). Because there was a 6KM route march right after the lecture, these 15 of them were asked to stay back to own up for sleeping during lectures. And conincidentally, the guard duty i/c a.k.a. CMS needs to meet a quota for guard duty people during this long weekend, close to 40 people had to go back tonight at 10pm for the 24-hour guard duty due to commence on Saturday 6am. Thereafter, when the 24-hour shift ends on Sunday morning, these 40 people are ordered to book out, and go back to the dreaded
resort at night together with us.
Bear in mind, of these 40 people, 15 of them came from our platoon. And many of them from my section. ARGH!!! Spoiled our plans for Geylang Beef Horfun this weekend! Of couse we were talking about it when we went back to our bunk, trashing it out like made, hurling insults at
the sirs ourselves for sleeping during lectures, and also apparently at someone in the platoon for not owning up to sleeping, even though he was stared point blank by LT Ngiam in the lecure hall. (BTW, Sir Ngiam wasnt around to point ou the arses after the 6KM march)
- Broke-finger
Mountain Action
Apparently, Sir Ngiam's wrists were already hurt about a week ago when he came back from his irregular block leave. And to add insult to injury --- literally --- his middle and forth fingers are bandaged like mummies, both coming from the same limb as the hurt wrist.
The story goes on that the PTI (physical training instructor) and our Sir Ngiam are good friends, and the day when sir appeared at the company line with the bandaged fingers, PTI too had his fourth finger wrapped under a uber huge clothes-peg lookalike thingy, supposedly to prevent fractures.
When we asked sir what happened to his fingers when he came up to our platoon bunks to make sure we're not orgying sleeping, we asked him what happened;
"
Sir sir! What happened to your fingers?" Raj asked.
"
None of your concern," Sir replied callously, "
go and sleep."
"
Sir sir! Why issit that PTI's fingers are also bandaged?"
There was a considerable long pause before he answered.
"
Oh, we fingered each other."
*loud animal laughter from all of us*
"
Very funny, issit?"
"
No Sir!" The laughter slienced instantly like a muffler shoved into a hand-held gun. Then Sir walked off to section 3's bunk, before doubling back just to say;
"
If you think this is bad, you should check out our backsides."
Many of us in camp have the tendency to fart --- at the wrong times. Actually, I should say, many of
them have the tendency to fart at the wrong times. This matter of impolitenesshad come to the attention of Sir Ngiam, or issit Sir Jensen. Anyways, from effect of Wednesday night (one night ago) , everytime Person A farts, he has to punch the air with gusto as he lets his --- ahem ---
german gas out and shout "Ulysses!". So fortunately, Raj seems to be having some stomach problems recently, "Ulysses!" has been the second most shouted word after "fuck!" and "cheebye! in our bunk.
And Raj has to be only bastard in the entire company to "Ulysses!" himself in the middle of last night's R.O. .
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