Outfield

Had a 3D2N outfield this week, after relaxing for most of the past month. I guess I've lost touch with the feeling of being covered with grime, sweat, camou, and lugging the signal set around, because I felt really terrible.

At the end of the 3 days, we were supposed to bash our way back to camp (3km) but the sergeants who were leading us 'horlan'-ed (lost the way) and it eventually took 4 hours (6.30pm - 10.30pm) of trekking before we finally arrived. It was dark most of the way, but we stumbled (I mean it in the most literal sense coz I tripped n times) along, up hills and down slopes, through muddy and wet terrain, and all the while, I was carrying roughly 16kg (>25% of my weight, or rather, mass) of load. My shoulders and back ached, my breathing got heavier, but seldom did we stop to rest because we (or rather, the ones who weren't as exhausted coz they were carrying much lighter loads) wanted to reach camp asap. I didn't even have dinner because we were supposed to have it back in camp, but hunger cannot compare with the fatigue and frustration of getting lost in the vast wilderness.

The thought of "is this worth it?" crossed my mind for the umpteenth time. While many others are having a (relatively) cushy NS life, here I am, getting the same (or slightly more, or even less) pay, but doing so much more.

Then there are those who are excused from all the shit because they suffer from various (often self-proclaimed) ailments - the easiest way out. It's no surprise that an increasing (and alarming) number of people are trodding down that path, getting downgraded and all. Who's to blame? Wouldn't you want to do likewise when you see your fellow "comrades" sleeping in the bunk while you sweat it all out for nothing in return except for more taskings and reproval?

Enough groaning already, yes, I should learn to grow up, thank you. Anyway most of that negativity disappeared when I got back to camp, showered, and devoured a bowl of piping hot noodles at almost 2am after settling all the signal stores and cleaning arms. Pure bliss, that, I tell you, and the comfort of a bed with bedsheets that haven't been changed for 2 weeks.

That negativity would probably surface again when I next go outfield but for now, I am holding out, body aching and all. I know nothing is fair in this world, and I have been far more fortunate than most, so who am I to complain? Now if only the pimples that erupted all over my face after this icky outfield would disappear and I would be a happy man. =P