But before all the digging starts, we had to rise in the morning, eat breakfast, collapse our tents and do some field PT. Nothing very special happened that morning... well, except for taking a poop in the forest. It was 4:30 am in the morning, and all of us were already awake, getting ready to start the day. I, on the other hand wasn't ready for the morning. Since the last potty break was about 2 days ago, I really didn't have a choice. You know, when nature calls, you can't exactly put it on silent. So, I, along with another friend attending natures' call went to the latrine set up by the commanders. It too, was basically a hole in the ground (I shit you not).
I feel don't need to describe the rest of it to you, but after that morning, rations didn't make me full anymore. Even the smell of rations made my stomach turn on its side.
T'was around 8:30 am when we were allocated our spots to dig. I felt ready to start the day, finish digging the shell scrape in about 2-3 hours, and call it a day. But nope, the ground had other plans for me.
As I swung my ET blade, into the soil, all I felt were roots. Many many roots. The first 2 hours worth of digging was spent to digging the outline of the shell scrape. With relatively fresh batteries, the stubborn topsoil outline was carved out, in a painstakingly slow manner. Digging didn't just take your arms, it took your legs, and your whole core to drive the blade into the ground, pivot the blade, and loosen a chunk of soil. Every hour or so, our commanders gathered us together to conduct their hydration routines, along with good swings of "tekan" (punishment) as we were moving sloppily due to fatigue. Even my buddy, a much fitter soldier, looked like he could see a distant light calling him toward.
As the morning thinned and the afternoon crept upon us, the heat started to intensify. Digging started to slow as the sun rose higher in the sky. Our LBVs (Load Bearing Vests) became saunas, as they covered most of our upper bodies on top of our uniforms. It was not long before we were sweating buckets. As lunchtime drew near, I dreaded the sound of another round of combat rations. I just couldn't eat another bite of that without becoming sick. In fact, I was preparing to survive on the biscuits provided in the snack pack for the rest of the camp. But before lunch, our PC (Platoon Commander) asked us to gather. He sat us down and said "If you've watched Ah Boys to Men, you'll know what's coming up". Some of us were looking around for a sack of letters, notes which were written by our loved ones many miles away. But there were none to be seen. Instead, one of our commanders sat down and told us this:
"All of you here, seated now are here for what? Is it because you have no choice? Is it because the government said you have to serve?
No.
You are here, not to protect the country. You're here to protect your families. Every night, your parents, your loved ones, sleep easy because you are here. While you're protecting them. Do you understand the power of family? Of love? No matter what your parents say to you when you're at home, they still love you. Even if they don't openly say that they love you, they still do. If your mother were to be here right now, seeing you so filthy and tired, how would she feel?
Her heart will break. She would cry for you.
If she were here right now, she would take the ET Blade out of your hands and tell the commanders, "Commander, its ok, let me dig the shell scrape for my son."
The one thing that you never want to do is to make your mother cry. When I was younger, I was bad to my mother. I would always make her cry. I used to steal, I use to do bad things. And because I was caught, I made her cry. You will never know the pain, the pain I made her go through, begging the lawyer not to send her son to jail. I told myself that never wanted to see her cry again, so I went to push myself in the army. In the army, I wanted to go to OCS (Officer Command School) to prove to my mother and to make her proud. But I didn't get in and because of that, I freaking cried. But it's okay. I know I did my best, and no matter what she is always my mother, and I love her."
As the words sank into our hearts, many of us poured our emotions freely. We shed tears for our loved ones, while we were here, on a small island, isolated from home. As we collected our letters from our Commanders, many couldn't hide our teary eyed faces. No, it wasn't embarrassing for any of us. Because as men, it is okay to shed tears for our family. My parents, being less expressive folks manifested their affection in a short note to tell me to press on and achieve (sigh... how classic of them) but that nonetheless, made me tear up too.
After the letters were given out, we were greeted by another surprise. Instead of combat rations, (which I was now thoroughly sick of) we were greeted with out-rations. (dabao food from the cook house) After 3 days worth of eating rations, the sight of a hot meal made my insides tear up too.
With warm food in our bellies and invigorated spirits, we continued the rest of the day digging our shell scrapes. Finally at around 4pm, I was finished. We spent the night in our newly refurbished real estate complete with well... nothing. I am sure that day was special not only to me, but to the rest of my friends as well. As day 3 went by, we prepared for our final day at FC, Day 4.
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