Today was my last working day in camp, but the irony was that I did not realise it until after lunch time. I hafd been under the impression that my last day was going to be next Tuesday (23/05/2006) because that was the earliest my leave allowed. But by some fortuitous twist of fate, I was able to bring forward my last day to today.
Lucky decision #1:
On my way back to bunk after lunch, I had decided to follow Jit into the office instead of proceeding straight to the lift usually. Goodness knew why I had decided to follow him. Maybe because I had a hunch that he was going to look for his favourite "Oregano Pasta with Chicken", which I would love to try a mouthful or two. To my dismay, his purpose was to enjoy the air con instead of combat rations. And so as we were lingering in the office, I overheard some heated discussion in the Matrix.
Being the ultimate kay-poh, I rushed there immediately.
Initially I thought such a commotion could only be caused by earth shattering news like the death of our brigade RSM or someone within the company was getting married. Unfortunately it was anything but interesting, a low class case of a few troopers TRYING to bargain with our PC about their leave before they disrupt for their studies. Since that was nothing of my concern, the office no longer held any points of interest to me. I am going back to bunk to sleep.
"Shun Chih, you need to submit your leave plan again because I had misplaced it."
That outburst from my PC 2LT Cavin suddenly got me involved with them. How did my flawless plan done over many painstaking nights got misplaced? Did that mean my ambitions (i.e. World Cup on TV) would be affected? Out of a state of helplessness, I scrambled around the office to redo my plan.
Lucky decision #2:
Sitting at the COS table to redo my plan was perhaps the most crucially correct decision ever made in my entire SAF life. It was at that table which I learnt from 3SG Cheng Yee and Cresens that I could actually gain an extra 2 days for my leave! Despite my vast experience in the army, skiving was one art which I not mastered. After hearing what they had to offer, I realised right on the spot that my Bachelor of Science with Honours (Mathematics) ought to be torn to pieces for ass wiping purposes.
Cheng Yee : "You do not have to clear leave on your ORD date. Once you get your PINK IC in the morning SAF can't do anything to you, much less keep you in camp for the entire day."
Cresens : "You do not need to clear leave on the day of your FFI, since that whole day would be burnt anyway. Morning dental FFI, afternoon return to camp for the rest of the FFI, blah blah blah... Clearing leave that day would be a waste."
Miraculously, that meant I could reclaim that two days next week, and today would be my last day in camp. In an instant I was plunged into a frenzy of packing up my remaining stuff and clearing all outstanding clearances with less than half a day left.
Freedom was suddenly thrust upon me and beckoned half a day away!
I was really not mentally prepared to leave so soon, especially when I literally started the day with the impression that I still have 3 days left. I had even thought that the morning jog around camp wasn't going to be my last.
Perhaps God had decided that I had served the army honestly enough not to have 2 days taken away from me, and that 2 days were just a little reward for doing whatever that was required without shirking my responsibilities.
AIT? Cleared. Bike course? Cleared. RTC in ROC? Cleared. Commando CST? Cleared. ERT? Cleared. First year IPPT Infantry Gold? Cleared (9:24 mins). First year SOC? Cleared (7:29 mins). Redo my first year IPPT and SOC after disruption? Cleared (Couldn't remember the timings because I anyhow ran). CSB + 8 + 16 + 24 + 32km routes marches? Cleared. Wallaby? Been there saw that. ATP? Cleared. ICCT & ACCT? Punched my way through. 2nd year IPPT and SOC? Cleared in (9:58mins and 8:45 mins respectively). SK? Done. Guard Duty? Done. Morning practices of my dual broom (双刀) wielding/sweeping skills at the ring of fire? Mastered. Most significantly, all of the above mentioned were cleared in the sniper fashion.
One shot one kill.
(Don't you ever forget. Limpeh is AHLANGOD.)
And I only took 6 days of MC throughout the year! 1 day for injuring my leg on a saturday soccer match in June last year and 5 days for my wisdom tooth. Model soldier? Nah. Honest soldier? Of course! I could have chosen the easy way out by getting myself downgraded during the 4 years in uni, and that wasn't very difficult since I was always getting injured every now and then playing football.
But I did not.
Because in case Singapore would ever go to war, I would rather hold a gun than a pen.
A pen is something I could hold as a teacher for the rest of my life. But when it comes to war, you can't reason with the enemy the way a teacher does to his students in front of the blackboard. The only way to reason with them and make them realise their folly of even thinking of invading our country would be to make them hear hissing sounds of rounds flying past their ears and eventually planting one firmly into their foreheads.
Just like the MG gunner from aggressor company during 3 Guards ATEC. Despite knowing they would lose the "war" to 3 Guards eventually, the MG gunner still blasted a volley of shots at the battalion fearlessly. 1 man versus 100. A true hero.
The "piak piak" sound of his MG firing in the crisp morning air epitomised his determination.
And of ours too. I am sure despite our incessant complaints about what the army had done to our lives, we would be grateful for the guns it provides us when our survival comes to the crunch. (No matter how fucked up they may be with their constant IAs.)
Just for your information, a pen is only useful in a war for POW treatment purposes. I.e. when you are captured by the enemy and they use it to stuff it up your ass.
"What is your mission? Don't fucking tell me again you cannot answer any of my questions. You want more of these in your ass? COMRADE???"
Jokes aside, I am indeed grateful for the many trying moments I had experienced in the army. The day when we knocked it down immediately on the parade square after unloading from the tonner from BMTC. The turn outs in the middle of the night. The change parades. The rappeling and flying. The swim in the sea. The long walks in the towering mountains and winding valleys of ROC. The oppressive and regimental lifestyle under our *beloved* CSM of the past. The same oppressive and regimental lifestyle under our current RSM. Unreasonable people like them. Weekend guard duties. Many nights under the moon and the stars. The same nights feeding impoverished mosquitoes. The endless marches and walks with the stupid signal set which clung to my back like a leech. GODSPEED the un-buang-able hellrider. POW by the ranger cadres. Dunking for 20 sec. Going down into the sea in the middle of the night to measure the gradient of the shore. Pulau Tekan, err I mean Pulan Tekong. (But there's no integrity and light there in the island as in its name. There is only eternal darkness.) That CSB 32km route march + river crossing + range. Firing rounds after sprinting short distances in ranges. Beautiful SWBTA. Baby kangaroos hopping after their mums. Tan Yeat Cheong with his 101 facts about the penis on top of a knoll in wallaby. Guarding/Slacking with the police at Changi Airport. Helping out in NDP 2006. Sleeping in the bunk from first parade to lunch, then from lunch to dinner. Playing flashpoint at Gann Boon's LAN shop. (It's an open secret now. Everyone's doing it.) Sorry for pao-toh-ing my fellow troopers. The free, accessible, never crowded, convenient Bedok Camp II gym. Not very tasty but always filling SAF cookhouse food. That stretch of track of the ring of fire which is forever covered with leaves.
I guess the list would go on and on. No point mentioning all that came to mind, if not they would fill an entire bible.
Now for the people I had met. My BMT buddy was a spoilt and pampered brat. My AIT buddy was a proud and incompetent fool. My RTC and subsequently cheong sua buddy was a skilled navigator and fit soldier. My current buddy is a much maligned but in fact, an honest, trustworthy, but reticent young man. I was fortunate to earn his trust enough for him to open up sufficiently to understand his true thoughts over many issues. Although measuring a person's worth by his physical fitness is very rampant in the army, but it does not truly reflect a person's true value.
Of course there is Jit the skilled war gamer whose knowledge about conventional weapons and military vehicles truly justifies his place in BRC. His target reco skills if ever needed in future to defend Singapore will be invaluably flawless. He can also fly that dammed helicopter in flashpoint fucking well. Even a God like Ahlangod crashes his chopper. Cao jiby! (His only weakness is that he got a fetish for combat rations...)
How can I forget Tan Yeat Cheong the crappist? I admit I seldom hang out with him in camp, as he is always around with the smokers, puffing away at the corner. But I had the honour of cheonging sua with him at wallaby. The most miraculous thing about him is that he can crap whenever wherever no matter how grim the situation was. He was the one who tricked Sergeant Sammy into admitting he was eating shit when we were waiting for the tonner to recover us during an END OF THE WORLD Cat 1. Yes. It was that Cat 1 which we saw half of the Australian sky covered with ominous dark clouds. Judging from the map in our hands, the clouds could easily cover 1/4 the area of SWBTA, which is equal to the size of one Singapore! Yeat is a good cook too. His skills at conjuring maggi mee and gugu bird (I mean sausages) in the jungles were heavenly. Of course as I say again, his 101 facts about the penis were legendary.
There were others too. Egg the Flying Pig. Flying because of the way he closes the gate during guard duty. It's a little secret between us. Ask him to demo for you when you are doing sentry duty with him next time.
Siwei the hardworking and responsible armskote man who always shows off his intimate photos with Fish Leong. Always call her by her name. Fish Leong is your girlfriend hah? Basket... (Do I sense some jealously here? Oops.) Wan Hin the "closest thing to a civilian" in his own words. Don't ever leave him alone with a trolley outside 3 Guards radio store on Valentine's day. He would mount the trolley and pretend he is windsurfing in Hawaii. Crazy boy. Alfred Liang the God of Sleep who is apparently very skillful with his guitar. The only problem was that he always chose the wrong hours to practice his strings. 2300 hours at night! Do you know why at such an odd hour? Because he usually sleeps for the whole afternoon and becomes very energetic at night. Can someone please give him 01 x extra for every second he plays his demonic strings LATE at night? Ming Hui the cute boy who needs to stand up for himself. Rocky the creative crappist #2 after Yeat Cheong. Always fantasizing about 1 v 1 hell in the cell match with anyone anywhere anytime. Remember to return me my messmug when you see me in NTU! Bing Chang that Old Jiby with his comics and irritating but yet all conquering dota tactics. e.g. Hand of Midas to create a hole in the creep wall then meat hook over??? Ming Shun the skillful programmer with a complementing nerdy eroticism. Joey my favourite football pal among the troopers who packs a good shot at goal and in the toilets of clubs. His forte is to observe people and what they do with their penises in the toilets of MoS. And who would ever forget the Company Shaking Man.
And my mates who went through hell with me before I disrupted. Hong Yao the UKM (Ultimate Kan-ning Machine). Mingjun the best PT who loved to roll on his bed and smelled his underwear. Mingjun also apparently watches a lot of japanese porn and relives his fantasies by calling me "KimoCHIH". Hong Wee with his live radio. He sings well but it's irritating to hear contemporary mandarin pop outfield. Leave your voice to K box ok? Chan Wei Wen for being the one who taught me how to navigate. Yes he was my cheong sua buddy and thanks for your CV food. Although I can live on combat rations like Jit, but it doesn't hurt to kop some gugu bird and bread from Wei Wei to eat. His only flaws were that he was very prone to fever (just like me) and his skin was highly delicate. Rashes would develop out of nothing. Needs to bring Dove skin lotion outfield.
It would be forgivable for anyone to develop the impression that I am pro-army after reading the bulk of this blog. In actual fact, I am still very much a cynic of it. I hate army, I still complain incessantly about army life to everyone, I hate losing my precious freedom, I hate SKs, I hate taking unreasonable and stupid orders, I hate SOCs, I hate carrying the signal set, I hate going outfield, I hate losing sleep, I hate regimentation, I hate egoistic officers, I hate Bedok Camp, I hate war!
Despite so much grievances, amidst all the suffering I somehow forced myself to search for a greater purpose. An explanation that justified all the testing times at this stage of my life. Ultimately, the fundamental purpose of Singapore's army was never to conquer another land, but to hold on to ours. There are many things that are important to me which exist only in this place. Family and friends, experiences of growing up, familiarity of the roads, locations of good food, soccer pals... Things I wouldn't want to lose to a bomb from the sky should (touch wood) that day ever come. If we ever had to disappear into the darkness of the night, at least for me I wouldn't have any regrets because the motivation for them to be happy and alive weighed more that the genuine fear of facing and dying to a real enemy.
Fortunately Singapore far from an imminent war!
Recollecting all the experiences and people for the past 2 years 4 months, I had indeed lived life like hell and also a hell of a life. I had suffered, enjoyed, and learnt so much from people and things happening around me. I am glad I had been through a complete army life. One that included physical suffering, emotional humiliation, and yet in the end, enlightenment to the soul. Without which I would still be the cocky JC fellow who thinks as a RJ alumni, I could scale the heights and conquer the whole whole all by myself. In short,
I had become a better man.
Finally when all the last minute clearances and packing were done, I fall-ed in for the last RO of my NSF life. My big boss, the OC of the company, CPT Tng Wee Kiat gave another of his talk to the company (I am still used to him as a 2LT because that was my first impression of him when we first met in BMTC). He congratulated the snipers for clearing their ICCT, amongst many other mundane details not concerning an ORD personnel like me. In the finality, he asked everyone to repeat after him with a half punch followed by a full punch.
"GOOD DAY!"
Friday, May 19, 2006
Thursday, May 11, 2006
A Few Good Men
I had reached home early last Thursday because I took half a day off for a medical checkup at Raffles Hospital. The checkup was meant to be a verification of my health status prior to joining the teaching service in June. I was given a clean bill of health as expected and that resulted in spending minimal time at the hospital.
When I got home in the early evening, only my brother was around. My parents and sister were still out at work. They would return home at their usual timings, which was 1900 for my mother, 2200 for my father, and 2300 for my sister. However my mother returned earlier than usual. It should not be surprising, since she would occasionally knock off early. I had assumed that she came home from somewhere apart from her office. Being a DXO in the army, frequenting other military camps in the course of her work was not unusual. She must have been to a camp nearer to home than her office. (Any camp would be nearer since her office is at Selarang Camp.)
"I just came back from CGH. I fainted on the bench outside the staff toilet back in camp. They rushed me to the medical centre then to CGH."
Fainted? Pain around the cardiac area? That sounded so preposterous and contradictory to the healthy woman in my living memory. The news came so suddenly and furiously that it took me quite a while before I fully appreciated the implications of her condition. To anyone with the slightest of common sense, pain around the cardiac area would definitely be non-trivial. Any form of complication concerning the heart would mean an anonymous time bomb had been planted in that person. No one could be certain when the counter would hit zero.
She did not reveal much about her condition either. The fact she had to go for more tests on the following Monday and Tuesday suggested that she was as clueless as us. The only consolation was that she was still able to walk around and not bedridden. Hopefully that would mean that her condition was not serious. How naive could I be? Could any pain around the heart be not serious?
I had been guilty of overplaying dota over the past few weekends such that I had created a huge backlog of blogs yet to be written. Neglecting my blog was trivial, but neglecting the presence of my loved ones and my obligation to them was inconscionable.
We always take things for granted, and we don't appreciate the precious things in life until we sense that we might lose them. I used to and am still irritated by her constant nagging and SKs that she tasks me to do. But the newly surfaced possibility of losing her anytime now had struck a deep sense of guilt within me. Maybe I could have grumbled less, maybe I could have abused her less,
Maybe I could have talked to her more.
As I watched her debilitated figure lying on the sofa, the deeply etched memories of a robust woman throughout my growing up years brushed before my eyes like a tape on a rolling reel. The violent "siao za ball" who would cane me whenever I did not do well for a test. The tireless maid who would wash, clean, scrub, and do the marketing on Sunday mornings. The great fan of Hong Kong dramas. The devout Christian. The faithful wife who would wait for my father to return home before turning in. The great cook with her specialty potato soup. The avid gardener who loved to plant pots and pots of goodness knows where at the void deck outside our house...
Talking about gardening, I had read the novel of a blockbuster movie screened recently: 'The Constant Gardener'. While it took the tragic death of the protanganist's wife for him to realise the many great things that his wife had done, I certainly hope I would not need something similar for me to realise the many noble things that my mother had done for us.
I remembered talking about the difference between a nice and good man. A nice man is a hypocrite who goes all the way to get into the good books of others so as to gain their acceptance. A good man casts all those pretences aside and is only concerned with doing what he thinks is morally right. Between the two, I think it is harder to be a good man because a good man runs the risks of compromising others' impression of him and his personal interests.
I had been guilty of being nice for the bulk of my life so far.
Being nice had its many drawbacks. First, in order to maintain that 'nice' image in front of others, a person's behavior would evolve into a pretence rather than protraying his true self. Others' impression of him could only depreciate since that 'nice' image was set at a much higher standard than what he really was. In the end that hypocrisy would result in restricting his relationship to others to a superficial level. He would end up with more acquaintances than friends, despite spending lots of time with others.
But most unforgivably, being 'nice' had caused him to neglect the people that truly deserved his concern.
Fortunately God had shown his mercy and granted the fool the much needed clairvoyance to recognise his follies. A timely saving grace indeed, for although the time bomb was in place, it had not gone off yet. My mother had been diagnosed with high blood pressure only. The blood vessels in her heart and kidneys were revealed to be UNCONGESTED after some complicated scans. With the appropriate change in diet and lifestyle, there is a high chance that her condition will get better.
I had been away from home for 6 long years. Many changes had occured to my life over the years. Friends had been made and lost. My music preferences had changed from Yes! 93.3 to Gold 90.5. I spend more time blogging than playing games. I picked up football. My brother's height had ballooned from my waist to my nose. My sister had grown fatter and still refused to get married. The memories of my once robust parents had been cruelly replaced by enervated figures.
Even the plants that my mother had grown in the void deck appeared more withered than before. Over the years, my impression of that little space in the void deck had developed from a mere messy cluster of potted plants to my mother's garden.
When I got home in the early evening, only my brother was around. My parents and sister were still out at work. They would return home at their usual timings, which was 1900 for my mother, 2200 for my father, and 2300 for my sister. However my mother returned earlier than usual. It should not be surprising, since she would occasionally knock off early. I had assumed that she came home from somewhere apart from her office. Being a DXO in the army, frequenting other military camps in the course of her work was not unusual. She must have been to a camp nearer to home than her office. (Any camp would be nearer since her office is at Selarang Camp.)
"I just came back from CGH. I fainted on the bench outside the staff toilet back in camp. They rushed me to the medical centre then to CGH."
Fainted? Pain around the cardiac area? That sounded so preposterous and contradictory to the healthy woman in my living memory. The news came so suddenly and furiously that it took me quite a while before I fully appreciated the implications of her condition. To anyone with the slightest of common sense, pain around the cardiac area would definitely be non-trivial. Any form of complication concerning the heart would mean an anonymous time bomb had been planted in that person. No one could be certain when the counter would hit zero.
She did not reveal much about her condition either. The fact she had to go for more tests on the following Monday and Tuesday suggested that she was as clueless as us. The only consolation was that she was still able to walk around and not bedridden. Hopefully that would mean that her condition was not serious. How naive could I be? Could any pain around the heart be not serious?
I had been guilty of overplaying dota over the past few weekends such that I had created a huge backlog of blogs yet to be written. Neglecting my blog was trivial, but neglecting the presence of my loved ones and my obligation to them was inconscionable.
We always take things for granted, and we don't appreciate the precious things in life until we sense that we might lose them. I used to and am still irritated by her constant nagging and SKs that she tasks me to do. But the newly surfaced possibility of losing her anytime now had struck a deep sense of guilt within me. Maybe I could have grumbled less, maybe I could have abused her less,
Maybe I could have talked to her more.
As I watched her debilitated figure lying on the sofa, the deeply etched memories of a robust woman throughout my growing up years brushed before my eyes like a tape on a rolling reel. The violent "siao za ball" who would cane me whenever I did not do well for a test. The tireless maid who would wash, clean, scrub, and do the marketing on Sunday mornings. The great fan of Hong Kong dramas. The devout Christian. The faithful wife who would wait for my father to return home before turning in. The great cook with her specialty potato soup. The avid gardener who loved to plant pots and pots of goodness knows where at the void deck outside our house...
Talking about gardening, I had read the novel of a blockbuster movie screened recently: 'The Constant Gardener'. While it took the tragic death of the protanganist's wife for him to realise the many great things that his wife had done, I certainly hope I would not need something similar for me to realise the many noble things that my mother had done for us.
I remembered talking about the difference between a nice and good man. A nice man is a hypocrite who goes all the way to get into the good books of others so as to gain their acceptance. A good man casts all those pretences aside and is only concerned with doing what he thinks is morally right. Between the two, I think it is harder to be a good man because a good man runs the risks of compromising others' impression of him and his personal interests.
I had been guilty of being nice for the bulk of my life so far.
Being nice had its many drawbacks. First, in order to maintain that 'nice' image in front of others, a person's behavior would evolve into a pretence rather than protraying his true self. Others' impression of him could only depreciate since that 'nice' image was set at a much higher standard than what he really was. In the end that hypocrisy would result in restricting his relationship to others to a superficial level. He would end up with more acquaintances than friends, despite spending lots of time with others.
But most unforgivably, being 'nice' had caused him to neglect the people that truly deserved his concern.
Fortunately God had shown his mercy and granted the fool the much needed clairvoyance to recognise his follies. A timely saving grace indeed, for although the time bomb was in place, it had not gone off yet. My mother had been diagnosed with high blood pressure only. The blood vessels in her heart and kidneys were revealed to be UNCONGESTED after some complicated scans. With the appropriate change in diet and lifestyle, there is a high chance that her condition will get better.
I had been away from home for 6 long years. Many changes had occured to my life over the years. Friends had been made and lost. My music preferences had changed from Yes! 93.3 to Gold 90.5. I spend more time blogging than playing games. I picked up football. My brother's height had ballooned from my waist to my nose. My sister had grown fatter and still refused to get married. The memories of my once robust parents had been cruelly replaced by enervated figures.
Even the plants that my mother had grown in the void deck appeared more withered than before. Over the years, my impression of that little space in the void deck had developed from a mere messy cluster of potted plants to my mother's garden.
It had becomed the backyard (庭院) of our house.
I have many fond memories of the backyard. I used to play in a much bigger backyard of our Outram Park flat back in my toddler days. I would sprawl all my toys around the void deck and run away, leaving my mother to clean up the mess after me. When I grew slightly older, I would help trim and water the plants, after which I would sweep the leaves and throw them into the dustbin. (Sounds like I was trained to do SK at very young age.)
A few more years down the road, the backyard became a warzone. My brother and I would hold water gun fights right there. I do not fight with the intention of getting defeated. I am Ahlangod. I would make sure my brother is thoroughly drenched before he was allowed to step into the house. But when we were caught playing with water, my vehement attempts at convincing her that we were actually watering the plants never failed to induce the ro-tan.
And she was always excited when there was a harvest. The following picture was taken back in her better days when a big pomelo sprouted out from one of her goodness knows where plants. She just took my expensive Canon Ixus and asked my brother to take a picture WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.
The backyard had prospered while she was healthy, and declined when she is sick. It almost seemed like the backyard shared her life. I went there today. Standing in the midst of the remaining few pots of withering plants, the following sentiments just overwhelmed me subconsciously...
踩着那梦里的足迹，
找不着旧时的天地。
挽着那梦里的时光，
留不住旧时的回忆。
多少年的漂泊，
多少年的相思，
多少年流浪的日子，
堆积堆积，噢堆积！
堆积出这样一句，
这样一句。
庭院深深深几许。
庭院深深，
深几许？
I just came back from a stroll with her. The doctor said mild exercises would be good for her health. It had been a long time since I had last spent time like that with her. We talked about almost everything and yet nothing significant. It was almost like a date. The thought of me spending so much time on other women in the past seemed so silly. I do not mean spending time with other girls is no good, but not to the extent that I should neglect my own mother.
Especially when I am not dating anyone of them.
Although my mother urges me to date on a more regular basis, I would rather hang around for a while longer. I don't owe any of those women anything, but I know I owed my mother right from the day I was born. That would be a very huge debt. Let me repay some of it before the special girl appears.
Changes are inevitable. I do not resent the changes that had occured in my life during the 6 long vagabond years. Because without those changes, I would not have learnt the most important change that I have to make. That is,
To join the ranks of the few good men.
Friday, May 05, 2006
A Brave New World
Presently at the closing stages of my army life, I could not help but anticipate the kind of life that would await me beyond the gates of Bedok Camp II. Stories heard from friends already out there in the fray are anything but encouraging, especially those who had taken the path I had chosen.
To be a teacher.
That left me with an urge to think about the reasons that made me chose this path a long long time ago.
6 years ago after the release of my 'A' level results, I had a few choices with regards to financing my tertiary education. I had decided against using my parents' CPF ordinary accounts for my university education (because they had paid for my sister's education with those accounts already). That literally meant I had no money for my tertiary education unless I took other people's money to study. Sizing up my options, I had the liberty of taking up NUS bursaries, bank loans, and scholarships. After careful consideration, I had decided that taking up a scholarship was the way to go because of guaranteed employment after graduation. The only catch was that I had to choose my scholarship carefully because I certainly have no money to repay the liquidated damages should I change my mind and break the bond. Weighing my own eligibility and my interest levels against the scholarships on offer, I vigorously applied for them from the moment I received my 'A' level results.
Initially I thought my interests and career prospects in the organisation should take top priority, but with the rampage of similarly minded 18 year olds flooding the scholarship market, I ended up applying for everything on offer as a testament to my desperation for money. I am indeed not an erudite player in this ball game at all.
I remembered I was offered scholarships from the airforce, army, and MOE to become an officer with either one of them towards the end of my BMT days. On one particular weekend when I saw all three letters of offer sprawled on my table after a weary week in Tekong, I knew my future would depend on which letter I put my name on. And so I pondered my options...
The Airforce offered me an Air Engineering Officer (AEO) scholarship.
Scholarships/Awards : Local Study Award (LSA) for commissioned officers.
- Tuition fees and other approved charges.
- Annual $9,000 allowance.
Starting salary : $2,900 to $3,450.
Benefits : CPF Top-Up Account + Savings Account + Retirement Account.
CPF Top-Up Account
- 9% CPF contribution. I am assuming RSAF will contribute 24% since the current (total contribution of wages) rate is 33% for Government Non-Pensionable Employees. (Fuck lah, last time before 1997 Asian financial crisis it was 40% one loh. So shiok!)
Savings Account
- Contributions of 5% to 10% of monthly pay to this account during your first 6 years of service.
- Contributions will decrease progressively from the 7 to 10 years of service, thereafter it will cease.
- Eligible to progressively withdraw from this account after 6 years of service.
Retirement Account
- A special account set up from my 7th year of service onwards until age 42/44*. The amount I am eligible to withdraw depends on my age, with full vesting when you reach the age of 42/44*. (* = pilots and ranks of colonel and above.)
Overall I thought that was an okay offer. With the prerequisite of paying for my tuition fees being satisfied and a whooping $9000 per annum, I would not need to worry about school fees and living expenses (no need to teach tuition and find part time jobs during school hols) . Supposing I start work from graduation at age 25 to an expected retirement age of 45 for a typical SAF officer, I should expect to get around
(Number of Months at Work) x (Minimum Possible Gross Starting Salary) + (Minimum Possible from Savings Account) + (Amount from Retirement Account)
= [(45 - 25) years x 12 months] x (0.91 x $2900) + (6 years x 12 months x 0.05 x $2900 + ...) + Retirement Account
= $643830 + (7th to 10th year of Savings Account) + (Retirement Account).
Moreover, an AEO is marketable even after he ORDs because he could still work with civilian airline companies. So a transition to a second job would not be too difficult. A career as an AEO was really attractive, except for one fact. I don't really like engineering.
The Army offered me a similar LSA to become a combat officer, together with the CPF Top-Up Account, Savings Account, and Retirement Account mentioned earlier. All these accounts would be managed under a single account called the SAVER account.
"The SAVER account will be managed by top global fund managers, who will help maintain a healthy growth in your account. When you retire at age 42-45, you should have accumulated a sum of approximately $500,000."
In short, I will be a rich man by 45. i.e. (~$600k) + (~$500k) = ~$1.1M in the bank. That meant my Estimated Life Value (ELV) in either the army or air force would be at least SGD $1M by mid life, with the potential to earn even more in the 20 years to the standard retirement age at 65!
(ELV is a term used by insurance companies to "calculate" your value so that they could convince you with their attractive policies promising returns at a significant fraction of your ELV.)
How about being a teacher? I was offered the PSC LMS (Teaching) Scholarship.
Awards : Public Service Commission Local Merit Scholarship (Teaching)
- $5,500 per annum.
- Tuition fees paid for.
- Subsidies hostel fees (at double room rates).
- 4 year bond.
Starting Structure:
- GEO 1.2 salary scale $1600x$160 - $3680 in NIE. This meant a minimum of $1600 to a maximum of $3680 with an annual increment of $160.
- GEO 1.1 salary scale $1680x$160-$3760 after NIE.
Starting Salary : $2724-$2883.
Renumerations : http://www.moe.gov.sg/teach/salary.htm
ELV at age 65 : (65 years -25 years) x 12 months x 0.80 x $2724 = $1,046,016.
Unoptimistically speaking, the ELV of a teacher is less than a SAF officer.
With so much rambling about money so far, it would not be surprising if the impression of me as a materialist had developed. Actually that was not my intention. The main point I was trying to drive at by showing so much figures was to provide mathematical proof of the significant difference between the ELVs of a military career and a teaching career. You can't blame me. I am a math graduate.
Then why did I choose the less lucrative route?
It was because whatever I had achieved today was in a big part due to the magnanimity of two men. Mr Lee Fong Seng (Principal of RJC in 1998) and Mr Robert Tan (Principal of TJC in 1998). My 'A' level results were not good enough for a science stream course at RJ, and I was instead posted to RJ commerce instead. Desperate to do a science stream course since my inclinations were not with commerce, I went to TJ to do an appeal for enrolment into their science stream. Fortunately I was not only accepted, but was placed in their elite triple science stream. I was indeed very grateful to Mr Tan for his kindness.
So how did I end up back in RJ again?
No less because of my good friend Mr Yeo Tianrong (I always call him Tian Bay) and some other team mates from the RI table tennis team who tried to help me to appeal for a return. I was wondering why a player of second tier standards like me would merit a precious appeal slot reserved for truly talented players from other secondary schools but could not make it to RJ based on their academic merits. I was to learn from my friends later that they "missed" me after 4 good years in RI, especially my gung-ho sec 4 South Zone Final doubles match with Tianbay. Yes, the one which we brought the whole hall to their feet!
Let me digress and recall the very final point which we won. I had the serve, and I served a no spin disguised as an underspin to the opponents. My reasoning was that at that very stage in the game, the opponent's hand might tremble and hit the ball harder, resulting in returning a high ball for us. My own hands were trembling too, so the no spin came off naturally and perfectly with the angle of my bat painting the perfect disguise. True to my reasoning, the ball came back as a very good chance and Tianbay slammed it home emphatically with much aplomb!
Unfortunately poetic justice prevailed in the end. The management of RJ was not stupid, and I was still denied that position reserved only for talented sportsmen from other schools. Grateful for whatever they had done for me so far, I had decided that in order not to have any regrets in my life, I must attempt an appeal at RJ based on my own merit no matter how hopeless it seemed. So I went back to RJ and told them whatever I had said in the previous 2 paragraphs.
Miraculously it worked.
Even after so many years down the road, I still felt that I had abused the system to suit my own wants. I was offered a place that I liked but not the course. So I went for the course which I liked but not the place. Then in the end after one big round, I tricked the place I liked into giving me the course that I liked.
I could never forget the immense disappointment on Mr Tan's face when I told him RJ had taken me back. Yes I got all that I wanted, and I was elated then. If I were given the same choice today,
I would rather live with regrets than with guilt.
Still this episode had a profound effect on me. I had learned to appreciate and value other people more. Whatever heights that I had and could scale is not due to my own ability alone. No one can climb a mountain without some gaps in the mountain wall for you to lodge your feet in. Similarly, no one can climb in life without other people to help you. The magnanimity of my parents, friends, Mr Lee and Mr Tan made me the man I am today. It is an anguish today that I had lost contact with most of them except obviously for my parents and Tianbay who still stalks this pathetic blog regularly.
I tore up the 2 offers from SAF into pieces.
I am glad that I had not become an army officer. After having spent so much time in the army, I had learnt that despite both educators and officers sporting the same pot bellies at mid life, an educator's belly is filled with humility and magnanimity, but an officer's belly is filled with nothing but ego.
But come to think of it. If I don't make it far in the army, making a career switch in mid life would be equivalent to getting retrenched during the phase in life when responsibilities should be the greatest. Ageing parents, kid(s)' education and expenses, housing loan, car loan, etc... The least preferred time to lose a job. The pension of $500k would not be enough to last the next 40 to 50 years before I die, and my ego by then after so many years as an officer would hamper me to looking for a less 'commanding' job.
That had been a long story explaining why I will be a teacher (exceeded 2000 words already), but I hope it would be useful to myself should I ever lost my way down the years in the teaching service. To serve as a signpost and reminder to myself.
The day will come when I sling my duffel bag on my shoulder waiting for the last cab ride home from Bedok Camp II. A brave new world awaits me from that day onwards. A world in which I will fulfill my destiny by repaying two honourable men.
To be a GREAT Teacher.
To be a teacher.
That left me with an urge to think about the reasons that made me chose this path a long long time ago.
6 years ago after the release of my 'A' level results, I had a few choices with regards to financing my tertiary education. I had decided against using my parents' CPF ordinary accounts for my university education (because they had paid for my sister's education with those accounts already). That literally meant I had no money for my tertiary education unless I took other people's money to study. Sizing up my options, I had the liberty of taking up NUS bursaries, bank loans, and scholarships. After careful consideration, I had decided that taking up a scholarship was the way to go because of guaranteed employment after graduation. The only catch was that I had to choose my scholarship carefully because I certainly have no money to repay the liquidated damages should I change my mind and break the bond. Weighing my own eligibility and my interest levels against the scholarships on offer, I vigorously applied for them from the moment I received my 'A' level results.
Initially I thought my interests and career prospects in the organisation should take top priority, but with the rampage of similarly minded 18 year olds flooding the scholarship market, I ended up applying for everything on offer as a testament to my desperation for money. I am indeed not an erudite player in this ball game at all.
I remembered I was offered scholarships from the airforce, army, and MOE to become an officer with either one of them towards the end of my BMT days. On one particular weekend when I saw all three letters of offer sprawled on my table after a weary week in Tekong, I knew my future would depend on which letter I put my name on. And so I pondered my options...
The Airforce offered me an Air Engineering Officer (AEO) scholarship.
Scholarships/Awards : Local Study Award (LSA) for commissioned officers.
- Tuition fees and other approved charges.
- Annual $9,000 allowance.
Starting salary : $2,900 to $3,450.
Benefits : CPF Top-Up Account + Savings Account + Retirement Account.
CPF Top-Up Account
- 9% CPF contribution. I am assuming RSAF will contribute 24% since the current (total contribution of wages) rate is 33% for Government Non-Pensionable Employees. (Fuck lah, last time before 1997 Asian financial crisis it was 40% one loh. So shiok!)
Savings Account
- Contributions of 5% to 10% of monthly pay to this account during your first 6 years of service.
- Contributions will decrease progressively from the 7 to 10 years of service, thereafter it will cease.
- Eligible to progressively withdraw from this account after 6 years of service.
Retirement Account
- A special account set up from my 7th year of service onwards until age 42/44*. The amount I am eligible to withdraw depends on my age, with full vesting when you reach the age of 42/44*. (* = pilots and ranks of colonel and above.)
Overall I thought that was an okay offer. With the prerequisite of paying for my tuition fees being satisfied and a whooping $9000 per annum, I would not need to worry about school fees and living expenses (no need to teach tuition and find part time jobs during school hols) . Supposing I start work from graduation at age 25 to an expected retirement age of 45 for a typical SAF officer, I should expect to get around
(Number of Months at Work) x (Minimum Possible Gross Starting Salary) + (Minimum Possible from Savings Account) + (Amount from Retirement Account)
= [(45 - 25) years x 12 months] x (0.91 x $2900) + (6 years x 12 months x 0.05 x $2900 + ...) + Retirement Account
= $643830 + (7th to 10th year of Savings Account) + (Retirement Account).
Moreover, an AEO is marketable even after he ORDs because he could still work with civilian airline companies. So a transition to a second job would not be too difficult. A career as an AEO was really attractive, except for one fact. I don't really like engineering.
The Army offered me a similar LSA to become a combat officer, together with the CPF Top-Up Account, Savings Account, and Retirement Account mentioned earlier. All these accounts would be managed under a single account called the SAVER account.
"The SAVER account will be managed by top global fund managers, who will help maintain a healthy growth in your account. When you retire at age 42-45, you should have accumulated a sum of approximately $500,000."
In short, I will be a rich man by 45. i.e. (~$600k) + (~$500k) = ~$1.1M in the bank. That meant my Estimated Life Value (ELV) in either the army or air force would be at least SGD $1M by mid life, with the potential to earn even more in the 20 years to the standard retirement age at 65!
(ELV is a term used by insurance companies to "calculate" your value so that they could convince you with their attractive policies promising returns at a significant fraction of your ELV.)
How about being a teacher? I was offered the PSC LMS (Teaching) Scholarship.
Awards : Public Service Commission Local Merit Scholarship (Teaching)
- $5,500 per annum.
- Tuition fees paid for.
- Subsidies hostel fees (at double room rates).
- 4 year bond.
Starting Structure:
- GEO 1.2 salary scale $1600x$160 - $3680 in NIE. This meant a minimum of $1600 to a maximum of $3680 with an annual increment of $160.
- GEO 1.1 salary scale $1680x$160-$3760 after NIE.
Starting Salary : $2724-$2883.
Renumerations : http://www.moe.gov.sg/teach/salary.htm
ELV at age 65 : (65 years -25 years) x 12 months x 0.80 x $2724 = $1,046,016.
Unoptimistically speaking, the ELV of a teacher is less than a SAF officer.
With so much rambling about money so far, it would not be surprising if the impression of me as a materialist had developed. Actually that was not my intention. The main point I was trying to drive at by showing so much figures was to provide mathematical proof of the significant difference between the ELVs of a military career and a teaching career. You can't blame me. I am a math graduate.
Then why did I choose the less lucrative route?
It was because whatever I had achieved today was in a big part due to the magnanimity of two men. Mr Lee Fong Seng (Principal of RJC in 1998) and Mr Robert Tan (Principal of TJC in 1998). My 'A' level results were not good enough for a science stream course at RJ, and I was instead posted to RJ commerce instead. Desperate to do a science stream course since my inclinations were not with commerce, I went to TJ to do an appeal for enrolment into their science stream. Fortunately I was not only accepted, but was placed in their elite triple science stream. I was indeed very grateful to Mr Tan for his kindness.
So how did I end up back in RJ again?
No less because of my good friend Mr Yeo Tianrong (I always call him Tian Bay) and some other team mates from the RI table tennis team who tried to help me to appeal for a return. I was wondering why a player of second tier standards like me would merit a precious appeal slot reserved for truly talented players from other secondary schools but could not make it to RJ based on their academic merits. I was to learn from my friends later that they "missed" me after 4 good years in RI, especially my gung-ho sec 4 South Zone Final doubles match with Tianbay. Yes, the one which we brought the whole hall to their feet!
Let me digress and recall the very final point which we won. I had the serve, and I served a no spin disguised as an underspin to the opponents. My reasoning was that at that very stage in the game, the opponent's hand might tremble and hit the ball harder, resulting in returning a high ball for us. My own hands were trembling too, so the no spin came off naturally and perfectly with the angle of my bat painting the perfect disguise. True to my reasoning, the ball came back as a very good chance and Tianbay slammed it home emphatically with much aplomb!
Unfortunately poetic justice prevailed in the end. The management of RJ was not stupid, and I was still denied that position reserved only for talented sportsmen from other schools. Grateful for whatever they had done for me so far, I had decided that in order not to have any regrets in my life, I must attempt an appeal at RJ based on my own merit no matter how hopeless it seemed. So I went back to RJ and told them whatever I had said in the previous 2 paragraphs.
Miraculously it worked.
Even after so many years down the road, I still felt that I had abused the system to suit my own wants. I was offered a place that I liked but not the course. So I went for the course which I liked but not the place. Then in the end after one big round, I tricked the place I liked into giving me the course that I liked.
I could never forget the immense disappointment on Mr Tan's face when I told him RJ had taken me back. Yes I got all that I wanted, and I was elated then. If I were given the same choice today,
I would rather live with regrets than with guilt.
Still this episode had a profound effect on me. I had learned to appreciate and value other people more. Whatever heights that I had and could scale is not due to my own ability alone. No one can climb a mountain without some gaps in the mountain wall for you to lodge your feet in. Similarly, no one can climb in life without other people to help you. The magnanimity of my parents, friends, Mr Lee and Mr Tan made me the man I am today. It is an anguish today that I had lost contact with most of them except obviously for my parents and Tianbay who still stalks this pathetic blog regularly.
I tore up the 2 offers from SAF into pieces.
I am glad that I had not become an army officer. After having spent so much time in the army, I had learnt that despite both educators and officers sporting the same pot bellies at mid life, an educator's belly is filled with humility and magnanimity, but an officer's belly is filled with nothing but ego.
But come to think of it. If I don't make it far in the army, making a career switch in mid life would be equivalent to getting retrenched during the phase in life when responsibilities should be the greatest. Ageing parents, kid(s)' education and expenses, housing loan, car loan, etc... The least preferred time to lose a job. The pension of $500k would not be enough to last the next 40 to 50 years before I die, and my ego by then after so many years as an officer would hamper me to looking for a less 'commanding' job.
That had been a long story explaining why I will be a teacher (exceeded 2000 words already), but I hope it would be useful to myself should I ever lost my way down the years in the teaching service. To serve as a signpost and reminder to myself.
The day will come when I sling my duffel bag on my shoulder waiting for the last cab ride home from Bedok Camp II. A brave new world awaits me from that day onwards. A world in which I will fulfill my destiny by repaying two honourable men.
To be a GREAT Teacher.
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