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posted : Friday, 25 November 2011
title : We Are More Than We Are, We Are One.
 "Endure. We're nearly there. We're all doing this together. Just hold on." 1967. It's been forty-four years, as one company, one family. Forty-four years of pushing forward, of endurance through shit and tears, stories of triumph and defeat, of true camaraderie. As one of the last few leaders of the company, I feel like a failure for letting this happen. It's as if I took what we had for granted, and in return, we aren't given a fighting chance. The flame is dying, our flame is dying. We aren't, and have never been a first choice CCA, and I don't blame anyone for having that perception. We don't aim to be that dream CCA everyone flocks to because of social status and the exciting things we have to offer. It's not a lie, joining us can turn your world upside down and burn it into a living nightmare the moment you step in. And this I know, because I've been through that, and I can safely say the past four years have been living hell -but that's the whole irony of it. Living in hell, being alive in a place set out to rip you bare. But miserable as it is, it's not as cruel as to leave me alone. Never alone. "You didn't end up here by choice. You didn't all end up here by common interest or talents. You're all strangers. But these are the strangers who will walk the same path as you, go through all hardship with you, and will be there for you all the way." Because when you don't have a choice, you make do with what you have, and by making do with what you have, you find joy in simplicity, of knowing deep within you that there is a common purpose, and that's what ties us strangers together. Like how the story that our Part A NCOs made for us goes, there was a kitten. He was mismatched, unlike all the rest. He was different; while all the other animals had special talents and abilities, he didn't. He was just a mismatched kitten. But this kitten had dreams, he wanted to be like a lion, big and strong. So he learnt the ways of a lion, prowling, roaring and other impossible feats for this tiny kitten. He kept stumbling over his own feet, and his roars came out a mere mew, but he kept trying. Until one day a zookeeper noticed his worries, and decided to let him witness for himself how a lion behaved. To his surprise, when he got there, he found 13 other kittens all learning to be lions, and that they were all mismatched too. That was when he knew, that though they were all different and from various backgrounds, they all had one common goal, and here, he found himself home. "We're here to help you get better. We know you're all going through pain now, but you won't regret it in the end. And when that time comes, you don't have to thank us, for we would already have left, because seniors touch and go. But remember, through all that shit and however much pain you went through, your platoonmates are the one's right beside you all along, going through all that shit with you to make sure you're never alone." This is the story of us, a tale that only those who have gone through will know. This is a reminder, that though all that we have now may be lost, it's what changed us that we'll never forget. Remember, the times we sat in a circle and sang old company songs together? The many times we couldn't even remember the lyrics and just went "la-la-la" to fill up the gaps, and all the ridiculously high parts that we couldn't even imagine singing, so we did the next best thing, we sang it lower. Remember, how we had our arms around each other when we did the hentak kaki cheer after every company games session? How there would be the awkward pause after "We..." cos we're not sure when everyone's going to join in the cheer, and how we yelled our throats hoarse and then all those people would walk past and give us looks as if we're crazy, and hell, that's what we are. Then at the last bang at the end, how the Sec 4s would always groan disapprovingly whenever the bang wasn't solid or in sync or something. Remember, the mad rush before every training? Making sure everything was standardised, neat and up to standard, going to the extremes if something was wrong. I remember us calling our parents desperately if we forgot something, cos if they didn't bring it over "we would die!!". I remember us bringing sewing kits and irons to school for any last minute emergency. I remember us all helping Lingling colour her socks with permanent marker because she accidentally brought her dad's dark blue socks instead of our black ones, because at that point in time, that was the best thing we could do. And then there's the dreaded job of being reporting ic because you'd be the first to see your NCOs, and the first to get tekan-ed if anything is wrong. You're the one to take it for the platoon. Remember, Annual Torture Camp? Every NCC Lander's worst nightmare. Worse than competitions, worse than week-long camps outside, are our own school camps. Three days of continuous stress, three days where practically everything you do earns you a punishment. Bathing was a privilege, and one that you most likely won't be able to enjoy unless you're a Sec 4. Even if given time to bathe (20 minutes for 30+ people), the seniors let the juniors have it, its like our way of saying "Its alright, we've got this. This is probably the best part of this camp so make the most of it and don't give us shit after this." Even sleep wasn't a secure place. We slept with our shoes on, and fully uniformed, not because we wanted to get a headstart on the next day,but because the bare floor is so cold, you could hear all of us shivering at night. Once in a while someone would have to run out to puke, so its best to be ready for anything. Constantly being threatened to have our bunk doors kicked open and all of us getting yelled at to get the hell out, i must say those were the alertest days ever, where with every single footstep outside, all of us just automatically snap awake and are ready for fight or flight. They were the days where crying by yourself in the middle of the night was normal, because looking around, you'll see many others who are doing the same, where the only comfort was in staring at the hands on the clock slowly move, telling you that there's still some time to rest before the next day begins. The ICs had it bad. They had to account for the whole company, if we did any shit, they had to answer for it, if we weren't up to standard, they knocked it down for us. They were seniors that we hardly had any contact with, I know, but in that point in time, we were all brothers in arms, we all stuck up for each other. Even if that senior was that one senior you hated the guts out of, seeing her frantically making sure that everything was up to standard so we won't get scolded, watching her making sure that every last person was accounted, hearing her take the blame and punishment for herself even if it was our fault, it just changed everything. It isn't easy knowing where every single person from your 40+ company is at any one moment, who is sick and who needs to leave and at what time, it isn't easy making sure no one gets left behind when we're running like hell from place to place, it isn't easy watching your fellow cadets trying to desperately catch up when they're injured and all you can offer is a shoulder to support and encouraging words, it isn't easy, especially when at the end of the day, something still screws up after all you've put in, but you're in charge and you want to protect your company, so you take the blame anyway. That's what being noble is about. And when you hear the booming verdict of "IC KNOCK IT DOWN 20!!" you just shake it off and drop to the ground anyway, because at least you're the one going through this shit, not the rest of your company. You don't feel the pain, you've been trained for this. And if they're not satisfied with the 20, it becomes 40, 60 maybe more who knows. Your company is made to watch, watch you take it for them, and you feel guilty that they have to see it anyways. And when you finally get up, you look back to your company, letting them know you're alright, and you see the looks on their faces, some silently crying to have to watch you shaking on your hands, but most calm as ever, but there's the unmistakeable shaken look on every face, the silent vow of "I'm willing to sacrifice if need be, for all of us." and that's when you know that every single one of them is there to back you up. And at the end of the three days, you see us, worn out and tired, smelling like every single hour of sweat running down our bodies and looking like we've gone to hell and back. And to us, we have, and that's just what keeps us together at the end of the day. Remember then, the week after ATC, all the sleepless nights from hearing footsteps outside when they're not really there, expecting to suddenly awaken to someone yelling FIREFIRE in your room. All too familiar. Remember, after finally being able to do PT sets of 50 50 50, looking back and thinking "How the hell did I get here from sets of 5 5 5 in Part A year!?" then realising we can easily do 200 8-count jumping jacks while we were dying at 20 two years ago. Remember, all the secret push ups that we had to do as punishment? Back before us, our seniors had it way worse. They could be forced to knock it down anytime, and they took it real hard. But the Army changed and we were no longer allowed to do push ups as punishments. We had to do 100+ up till 200, but that was nothing compared to what our seniors did. They did 400, even more and they took it together, no backing down, no regrets. Respect. Those were the days when we were so strong, so invincible, so zai. Decades and decades of consecutive gold awards in shooting, orienteering, kayaking, physical competitions, everything. Then we crashed and burned. Teachers decided to take control of things, said we were too harsh, that our trainings were too tough, and twisted us to suit the majority. They tried to make us into a fun CCA. We desperately tried to defend, but there's only so much we can do, especially since the majority doesn't understand how we feel anyway. That's why we're a downfall. The greatest downfall in NCC history. Because the school knows what's best for us, didn't they? Remember, all our funny little traditions? The can of long expired sardines that was passed down generation after generation, gone in a trashcan. The many outdoor trainings at Sentosa and McRitchie reservoir, gone because 'everything needs parental consent forms'. The April Fools' Prank which makes part As cry every 4 years? Still around, but the other batches are starting to claim the idea. The Blue Balloon Tradition, failed miserably this year. Commanding low, being demolished as a speak. Greetings, teachers hate it, but its still around anyway. The Sacred Tiled Floors, the teachers view it morally unacceptable to have a special area just for the graduating batch within the CCA. Remember, remember all the blood, all the tears we shed, caused by the sheer pain. The pain when you actually feel your skin slowly tearing beneath you, the pain when you feel the blood trickle and dampen the ground underneath, the pain when you look up and see your juniors crying, crying from pain and there's nothing you can do to help. But then you see your company giving each other reassuring looks and you call out "Company ENDURE, you're all doing this together" just so they'll know if it hurts, it hurts together, and that just wants them not wanna give up. And the little spark of pride you feel when a senior asks if one of your juniors wants to fall out cause she's trembling so bad and she looks up at them and confidently says "no." and continues her struggle. And finally that satisfaction you feel when we all get up, blood stained arms and all, but with that little glimmer in our eyes that says "we made it." Remember that? Yes we remember all this pain we go through, because that's what molds us. The teachers say, "You don't take people as they are, you force people to fit the mold." No, no we don't. We change people until they fit nicely into the mold, until everyone fits nicely into each other. We don't "torture cadets and force them to do things just because they so-called respect you, when in fact they're just scared of you", they have no reason to be scared of us, think of it, what's the worst we can do to them? They can simply stand up and walk off if they want to. Haven't you ever thought that maybe its really the respect you feel when you think "Hey, this person has gone through this shit before, maybe I ought to listen and maybe I'll get something out of it" that keeps them here, that keeps them doing everything they're made to do? Haven't you ever thought that maybe its the commitment to each other, to stay through the pain even if you can escape, just because your fellow comrades are still there, is what keeps them going through everything together, pulling each other along even if they're struggling to catch up? We're not monsters, we're people, we know how they feel because we've gone through it before too, they learn from us, we learn from them, along this weathered path we're going through. But that's the thing, we can build bridges if there's a flood, we can put up a map so the next people won't get lost, we can even create an alternate route in case the path one day becomes unwalkable, but everything should still lead back to the same path, the same direction because only then will we be able to get to where we set out to go. We were harsh, we were strict, we made every single person who stepped out from this place so strong. We found happiness in our own little ways. We were shining so bright in all our glory. Then you changed us. We're the 'fun and exciting' people you want, but everything we were crashed and burned. We lost our identity. Then you asked us why we burned out. Are you that blind? So now you give up on us, cause there's no point keeping us alive anymore, when we can no longer serve the way you want. You toss us aside to die, and when you realise we're still fighting to live, you do what's easiest for you. To the 45 generations of RGSNCCLAND, it's been an honour serving you, you've changed me into the person I am today. All my respect, love and faith goes to you. To the people who changed us, go fuck yourselves. I hope you're happy that we're gone now. Our candle's fast burning out, but we fought for glory, fought for victory, fought with a spirit never known before. We found ourselves a home, a home sweet home within all our comrades, and that's what matters most. Raffles Company (1967-2012), Reign Supreme. |
It's best to keep it short and sweet. (:
