Clouded in mist

This week marked a sharp decline in physical training in exchange for outfield and combat training. The week started with the live firing range, which I am pleased to say was something I turned out to be good at. Out of a total of 32 shots, divided into 16 shots during the day, and 16 at night, only two bullets failed to find their targets, both during the night firing. I didn’t have to re-shoot unlike many of my counterparts, and therefore spent the rest of the four or so hours waiting for nightfall stuffing myself with food from the snack bar. Yay for achieving marksmanship and being able to book out one night earlier as a result.

This was also my first time venturing into the jungle for our camouflage and concealment lesson. The camouflage paint we had to apply on our faces turned out to be a giant pain in the ass. It never stays on when it’s supposed to due to excessive perspiration and friction from the helmet strap rubbing against the cheek area, and it never comes off either when it’s supposed to. I had a hell of a time trying to clean myself up and after 30 minutes of washing my face, I was still left with a look that appeared as if I had eyeliners applied. Everyone did, and we had a good laugh looking at each other’s faces. Wished I could have taken a picture of it.

Another major of the week was the Grenade Assault Course, in which dummy grenades were thrown from various positions. A part of it involved leopard crawling behind cover, which is probably one of the most tiring things I’ve ever done. It looks simple enough in movies, but reality is far from it.

I didn’t manage a single diary entry at all this week since the majority of the time was spent outfield, and by the time I return, I fall on my bed and collapse into a heap from the exhaustion, only to face the same thing again the next day. A positive result from that packed schedule is that it doesn’t leave me much time to feel depressed and lament about how much I hate being here.