All able-bodied males who are mentally sound must serve National Service. It is an obligation, a duty to serve the nation, this island-country-city-state we affectionately call Singapore. I officially began my two and a half years of National Service on 05 January 1995. To leave home to embark on a new journey after eighteen years of living under the care and concern of my loving parents was hard to reconcile at first. But nonetheless, knowing that this journey will not be a joyride, I made a vow to survive it. I am a survivor.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow”. This summed up my feelings at the Depot Road Central Manpower Base on that fateful morning of 05 January 1995. My parents were also there at the send-off gallery to see me off. After the ceremonial pledge, we were bundled into different buses (thank God they were air-conditioned. We were quite fortunate as the previous batches took the three-tonners instead.) Owing to the fact that I was the only one whose hair was cropped close to the scalp, I felt quite uneasy on the bus. I attracted the stares of the others who must have laughed at me silently inside their hearts. All of us on the bus were strangers alike, thrown into an unknown destiny. The bus ride was dead silence, much to my amazement. No one talked, no one bothered to do the customary self-introductions anyway.

We were all issued with a duffel bag – a cylindrical, long green canvas bag which was known as the Ali Baba bag. But from what I could remember hearing from my childhood days, Ali Baba was the name of the man who became rich instantaneously when he found the gold inside the cave. I was all excited and wondered whether there would be any gold inside my Ali Baba bag. Gold there was not to be, but the Ali Baba bag would be used to contain all my necessary clothing and accessories. The initial stage of item collection was fun. I enjoyed myself thoroughly. We were given different coloured tags with their pink, red, yellow, blue, purple, green, orange and brown shades. Our “catch” for the day was a bountiful harvest consisting of camouflaged uniforms, vests, shorts, socks, boots, a helmet and a pair of jogging shoes (which they nicknamed the SAF Reebok)

Nee Soon Camp. 3rd Brigade Training School. Basic Military Training. My second home for the next three months. We are finally here! The place is big. In addition, the colour of all the buildings are in a soothing shade of cream, which reminded me of the colour of the buildings of my junior college. That alone put me at east at once.

We were ushered into a training shed to be divided into different platoons. Thereafter, grabbing my belongings, I followed the rest of my new section mates to our bunks. After the initial settling down in my adopted home, I heard my name being called. I was to have my first interview and was also given my military identity card.

Lunch that day was served at the cookhouse. The food was surprisingly quite appetizing, contrary to tales which I heard from my friends. However, the numerous cookhouse fatigues which I had to do proved to be a hair-raising experience.

Eddie, Yong and myself were assigned to wash ten huge metal rice containers. Inside these ten containers were heaps of fermented rice which was awaiting to be thrown away. After much heaving and grumbling, we managed to deposit the contents into the polythene bags which we then dragged to the rubbish point. But that was only part of the job. Next, we also had to clean the containers thoroughly. While the three of us squatted in a circular fashion and started cleaning the containers amid exchanging the latest gossips, I was reminded of the women in the hit movie “How To Make An American Quilt” who sat around a round table and exchanged their life experiences.

We were also taught how to do the correct webbing for our army backpack, known as the skeleton battle order and the proper lacing of our army boots. After these lessons, there was considerably much time for us to socialize. My bed is very near the window and it offers me a very good view of the surroundings. I can literally smell the fresh air. Not to mention the fact that my bed was also directly under the ceiling fan.

On the third day, we were escorted to the medical centre. My first impression of the medical centre was that it was very old. Even the corridors were dark and emitted a sickly medicine smell that lingered on. But I heard the authorities were building a new medical centre directly opposite the old building. Well, the site had been chosen but whether of not I had the chance to see the physical new building would be another question altogether.

Home was so near, yet so far away. The very thought of the Parents Visiting Day was what kept my spirits high. The actual training began five days after my enlistment. Needless to say, life was tough. On one starry, starry night, the entire platoon was assigned to dig mud at the open grounds behind the administrative block. Although all of us kept quiet and carried on with our task, I could identify with some of the expression on the face of some of my platoon mates. Shocked, bewildered, and surprised – their facial expressions gave them away. The rain only made our job harder.

After the initial orientation week, the tempo graduated from andante to allerando, picking up much speed along the way. First, there was the swimming test, followed by the M16S1 rifle technical handling test, the live firing test practices and the individual fieldcraft lessons all packed into one single week.

It was only the second week, but I was already well equipped with both the theoretical and practical knowledge cum competence of handling the M16S1 rifle, touted as the most commonly used rifle in the world. Despite this, I remembered very clearly my disappointment when I failed my first day range practice. I was a bundle of nerves when it came to the actual firing, hence being nicknamed the “bobo shooter”. I could only console myself and promised to shoot better during the next practice. Well, all came to a point when even my platoon sergeant almost gave up hope on me. While my other section mates were discussing the finer aspects of range practices that would get them a marksmanship award, I was still struggling to clear the range practices. I was simply hopeless and I knew they were sniggering behind my back.

My fortunes took a dramatic change for the better when the night range package started. And that was when I proved my critics wrong and made them eat humble pie. Among all my peers, I am the only one who does not have a nightlife. In fact, I am usually in bed latest by ten o’clock. Yet I performed credibly well for all my night range practices to the extent that my platoon sergeant changed his opinion of me and labelled me a “party animal” this time round. Personally, I found night firing much more tantalising and inviting than day range. The only reason I could give, even up till today was that it was definitely more cooling shooting at night, under the beautiful coverage of the stars and Night’s brows. It was a therapeutic balm which soothed me and made me feel at ease. Gone was the garish sun and the heat waves that made my heart boil. I welcomed the night instead. Basically, night firing comprised of various types of targets illuminated by different amounts of light ranging from the silhouette to the blinking targets which would light up when engaged.

Parents Visiting Day. The day I had been waiting for so earnestly. It finally came. Emotions rained and spirits were at an all time high. Experiences were also related and encouragement given. To me, it was a testimony of the strength of the family bond. It is the family bond which is the strongest, surpassing even the metallic bond which I learnt in my Chemistry lessons. But something also touched my heart which made me sit down and think real hard.

Yap’s family did not visit him at all. I asked myself. Why? Did he not tell his parents or did they forget about it? At that particular moment, I felt sorry for him, despite all the eccentric things which he had done.

I remember the time when I first met Yap, who was Eddie’s buddy. With his hair uncut, he was like the demon incarnate himself. He asked me to put his mattress cover in for him. I obliged. While I was doing it, he simply stared in another direction and refused to help. This was my first encounter with Yap, my section mate. Initially, I pitied him and offered to help him, but a week later, I changed my mind.

At the medical examination, Yap kicked up such a big fuss about not being able to see and even told the medical officer that he was partially blind, much to our disbelief. As such, Yap insisted that the medical officer should excuse him from range. Miracles of miracles, Yap succeeded in obtaining his excuse. However, we were not convinced and decided to test him. Adrian was eating M&M’s and dropped one on the floor intentionally. Lamenting his own carelessness, he requested Yap’s assistance in helping him locate the M&M’s which was on the floor. In less than two seconds, Yap kicked up the chocolate M&M’s which was on the floor and popped it into his mouth, with a big grin on his face. On another occasion, Tan dropped a ten cent coin on the floor. Without hesitation, Yap rushed forward immediately and retrieved the ten cent coin for Tan, who was much amazed by the agility and accuracy of a self-proclaimed “partially blind” man. We had enough proof to overturn the medical officer’s decision, but decided not to expose Yap out of plain goodwill. Well, we still had to live with him in the same bunk for the next three months.

The Yap episode did not just end there. Worst times lay ahead of us. Despite being a big lair, Yap is also very disgusting by nature. I was also a primary witness to this. Every night, he sleeps only with his underwear on and never fails to scratch every part of his body before he sleeps, including giving his crotch a very good massage. Perhaps he needed some superb flights of fantasy to send him into deep slumber after a hard day’s training.

But the best was yet to come. In the toilet, Yap would deliberately take his time to bathe. Many a times have I witnessed Yap popping his head over to the next cubicle to admire the well-sculpted, naked male physique of his platoon mates who were also taking their showers. While some would just ignore him, others would reprimand him. What Yap would do in response was to laugh away. Yet others like Daniel would scream at the top of his voice and run out of the toilet, with a towel wrapped around his body, dripping wet. He would only continue part two of his bath after making sure Yap was not around.

Yap enjoys parading himself in his underwear. A spot-check by our platoon sergeant in preparation for our forthcoming field camp revealed the truth that Yap had only two pairs of underwear – a purple one and a green one. The green one is the spare one while the purple one is the one he wears on a daily basis. I really shudder to think. Moreover, Yap only utilises two sets of his army uniform, keeping the other three sets still neatly wrapped in their plastic covers.

But I must give Yap credit for his excellent toilet washing skills. Being assigned to wash the toilet was the last thing I wanted to do. He would always be the first to rush to the toilet to carry out this chore, while the rest of us would drag our feet to the toilet.

Book-out time is also the most important event, besides the passing out parade which we all look forward to. But before we could book out for the first time, we had to pass the hand grenade assault course, after one and a half weeks of hand grenade lessons. I passed the theory test with full marks and then went on to the next stage. I was basically swimming in a mud pool. My uniform was mud soaked and I stank. But I pushed myself to finish the entire course, failing which I would have to do it again until I complete it. After the test, all of us headed straight to the showers and awaited for the night snacks to come.

We were also taught first aid skills and had to attend the National Education cum General Military Knowledge lessons. The buddy system, guard duties and army discipline were the topics discussed, in addition to basic survival skills and how to render first aid to victims.

Suddenly, the passing out parade was just three days away. Preparations for this event went into full swing and the next thing I knew was that my three months of Basic Military Training was all over. The different feelings of euphoria, a lingering sense of goodbye is still there, hanging in the air at Nee Soon Camp.

I have to get on with life and complete the rest of my National Service liability. Life had been good so far. There would be a better tomorrow for me somewhere out there. The memories of Nee Soon Camp, I hold dear to my heart. The friends I have made too are also the best gift the army has given me.

Pack your bags, get off the train at the main station. Now take the next train to your new destination and enjoy the ride. Remember to fasten your seatbelts. Good luck and thanks for the memories!

Author: Lionel L (30 June 1997)

 

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“Remember…the two most important things in a woman’s life are a good husband and lots of money. Only then will you be happy…”. These were the last words of Old Madam Neo still continue to resonate in the room in which she passed away many, many years later.

The five daughters were all present at their mother’s deathbed way back in 1970. The eldest daughter, May Fern was twenty years of age when the heavy responsibility of looking after her four younger sisters fell on her shoulders, following the bereavement of their mother. She had to put up a brave front before her sisters May Leng, May Hong, May Tin and May May in descending order. Cry she could not afford to. She had to fight back her tears even when May May, the youngest who was only nine then tugged sorrowfully at the skirt.

But the dying words of Old Madam Neo did play a very big role in shaping the lives and personalities of the five daughters as they grew up and attained adulthood.

Money is and has always been the first love of the first daughter. In comparison, the second daughter loves gossip and the third daughter stray cats. Men and beauty are the only loves of the two youngest daughters respectively.

May Tin, the fourth daughter often allows her head to follow where her heart goes. She remembers her mother’s dying words very clearly and preaches them in her everyday life to the extent that it becomes her only principle. Every week, she is with a new boyfriend. As May Leng puts it very simply, she changes her boyfriend as quickly as she changes her clothes. May Tin works in the entertainment line and returns home in the wee hours of the morning.

Rumours are rife that she is a professional dance hostess and that is why she is able to dump her guy so quickly and be in the arms of another so easily. Being so much in ‘love’, she tells May Leng, who is known as the unofficial neighbourhood network reporter of her most recent amorous triumphs which surprisingly, managed to last for two weeks.

He was a Caucasian named Jack. It all started when she bumped into him at Orchard Road on a rainy night. She was thoroughly drenched and was shivering in the cold. He was as if Godsend, offering to share with her the use of his umbrella. She obliged, her wet bra only accentuating the fullness of her breasts and this imbued in her a sudden feeling of excitement she had never felt before. She was the proverbial damsel in distress and he was there to deliver her from Hell’s flames. They ended up making love in his apartment, with the rain still beating furiously at the window plane.

“Leng, tell you a secret. When I snuggled close to him, I could feel the strength of his rippling biceps and ooh, his tight bottom…But what really turned me on was the size of his penis. Good heavens, it was so big. And the way he shook it…He was so potent, so strong when he entered me…” After this two-week fling, May Tin only befriends Caucasians whom she strongly believes are more capable of performing sexually than the locals. She is still on the lookout for that Caucasian who will marry her eventually and love her always. Always.

And May Leng listens with intense interest.

She, unlike all her other sisters, loves gossip. She strongly believes that only with the glib of her tongue and her ability to source out ‘reliable news’ will she be able to nab her future husband. That very evening, the whole neighbourhood knew of a certain Miss K’s sexual experience with a Caucasian. First hand information is always transmitted from May Leng’s reliable sources to her keen listeners, most of whom are homemakers who also enjoy indulging in the latest gossip. “Did you know that the Tan couple living five houses away quarrelled so loudly last night? They even threw some flower pots out of the window.”

“That Sam, I tell you people, is so rich. Yesterday, he bought a new furniture set. Cream colour. Said to be pure leather. And just an hour ago, I saw him driving a new BMW Compact home. Filthy rich. Must have strike 4D. Lucky guy.”

Her love for gossip has only increased over the years. Although she has now aged considerably over the years, her eyes and ears, her two most valuable assets are still very receptive to the latest happenings in the neighbourhood. Very often, she sits on a rattan stool outside the house and informs her audience (her fellow gossipers) of what they have missed out. But what makes her ‘news’ worth listening to is that she will inject some exotic flavour and serve the gossip dish with added ingredients, which is what her listeners want. The attention and fame she has gotten from her gossip spreading fame  - she relishes. This is what keeps her going. Gossips and tales, both old and new, no one knew them better than May Leng.

“Come on, babies. Feeding time!” May Hong coaxes the stray cats out of their hiding places. Like the Piped Piper of Hamlin, the stray cats crawl out from under the drains, cars and lorries. The stray cats listen attentively, then rush forward to May Hong and surround her, purring in unison. May Hong will then place the wrapped packet of food that consisted of leftover rice, some fish and meat on the ground tenderly for her ‘babies’ to feast on. And May Hong will look on from a distance, looking visibly happy. After the meal, the cats will then follow May Hong wherever she goes. At times, they will even follow her home. The colours of the cats vary from black, gray, white to the mixed coloured ones. In fact, they form a marching contingent, with their heads looking high into the air and their tails moving in similar rhythm.

Her favourite stray is the black cat, the one with the shiny black coat of fur. As a sign of affection, May Hong will cuddle it in her arms and stroke it gently, showing a degree of maternal instinct she has never experienced before.

Nearing her house, she hears May Leng telling the next-door neighbour of Richard’s impending marriage to a fat, short woman.

“Hong, please get the furry creatures out of the house. You know I’m allergic to their fur,” grumbles the youngest daughter May May, already in her nightgown.

“May, if you afraid, just stay in your room and carry on with your beauty programme. I thought you were supposed to do your facial?” enquires May Fern, the eldest daughter.

“Fern, why do I always have to give in? Fancy you siding with the stupid cats,” chides May May sulkingly.

“May, didn’t the government or was it the SPCA that told us to care for our pets?” questions May Hong.

“But Hong, this black feline is not even your pet, it’s just a stray. And look at the entourage you bring along. You don’t even know if they are clean, you know what I mean – any diseases, sterilized…”retorts May May.

“I intend to keep this black feline with me anyway. I’m naming her Goddess. She’s my very life. I’ll chase the rest away for your sake, dear sister,” proclaims May Hong.

“Stop squabbling, you two. Let me have some peace so that I can concentrate on monitoring the prices of my shares. Why can’t the two of you understand? Money is the most important in life. Remember what Ma said before she died?” The eldest daughter stamps her authority as head of the family of the unmarried sisters.

May Hong carries Goddess to the garden and plays with her while May May returns to her room to carry on with part two of her self-beautifying routine. She is obviously obsessed with beauty.

May May was fourteen then when she met her first and only boyfriend who dumped her. Her pock-marked face, a result of the remnants left by pimples was complemented by an obviously obese body which was badly out of synch with her small head. Besides, she had bad dress sense, very dark complexion and her hair was not unlike that of a Negro’s. In addition, her penchant for chocolates, snacks and sweets only aggravated her size. But she was so much in love then and she proclaimed that she was the most fortunate person on planet Earth. Well, things turned out differently as envisaged. It was love of a different kind – not mutual love but infatuation on May May’s part. She loved him, but her love was never reciprocated. One fine day, in fact, it was the third day of the supposed boy-girl relationship when he rebuked her publicly. He called her a total disgrace and thereafter dumped her.

May May’s failure at initializing and maintaining a proper relationship woke her up literally and set her thinking. The first thing she did was to take a good look at herself in the mirror. She almost fainted when she saw the horrible state she was in. “I look terrible, grotesque. No wonder he dumped me,” she moaned. “I have to do something quick, real quick. Yes! Beauty is the answer.”

Having made up her mind, May May embarked on an intensive beauty regime which included endless facials, slimming courses, body therapies, make-up lessons, popping vitamin cum mineral pills…

The next day, she waited at the front entrance of Latron, the largest department store in town for more than an hour. When it finally opened for business, she was the first one to rush in and headed for the perfume department. The brand names were all alien to her – ‘Red Door’ by Elizabeth Arden, ‘White Linen’ by Estee Lauder, ‘Chanel No. 5’ by Chanel, ‘Tresor’ by Lancome, ‘Fleur de Fleur’ by Nina Ricci, ‘Miss Dior’ by Christian Dior… The air was filled with the different perfume scents which delighted her so. She tried one perfume after another and bought four brands without any hesitation. Next, she moved to the cosmetics department and purchased the necessities like lipstick, eye shadow, foundation, face powder, blush, cleanser, toner and moisturizer. The clothes department awaited her next. Not forgetting the shoes and nightgowns.

Contented with all her purchases which added up to seven shopping bags, May May walked out, feeling very much a happier person.

May May is now a completely changed person. Her complexion is almost porcelain smooth and silky white. She never fails to leave home without her umbrella, shades and a good rub of the sun-block lotion. Her hair is long, black, lustrous and her skin glows with radiance. Yet she is not satisfied and sees herself as second best compared to the supermodels who grace the catwalks and the covers of many a fashion magazines.

“Henry, sell my Extron shares for me, all of them, when the price hits $4.80 per lot,” May Fern calls her reminiser over the phone.

Money is everything to May Fern. She goes for anything that makes the most money and recently, has concentrated all her efforts on the stock market. Till date, she has over ten counters of shares and can rattle them off without even thinking. Her principle for buying shares is to try to buy them at the lowest price and sell them once she has made at least a fifty percent profit. “It’s quick and good money,” she tells all her sisters. “If not for the money, I would not even strain my eyes staring at all the figures on the teletex.”

Nonetheless, May Fern has been the chief money-lender to her other younger sisters, especially May May, whose shopping list each month for beauty products reads like an official guest list of stars invited for the Oscars every year. But it is also the money she makes from the shares that keeps her going. She is no doubt a very shrewd woman who has made quite a neat pile from shares. Her back account is supposedly able to support the man she loves, if she finds Mr. Suitable.

“Hello Fern? Tin here. I’m not coming home for dinner tonight. Yah, got date. Bye.” The telephone conversation is short yet to the point.

7.30pm. Dinner time. The four daughters sit around the round table for dinner, their dead mother’s portrait hanging on the wall just opposite the dining table, emitting a sense of overpowering omnipotence which still dominates after so many years.

“So Fern, how much did you make today?” enquires May Hong.

“Two thousand dollars, after I sold my Extron shares,” replies the eldest daughter.

“Waah, so much, enough for me to buy four months worth of beauty products,” chirps May May, obviously delighted.

“That’s all you ever think about. May, if you have no money, how to have beauty? How to go for facials, buy cosmetics?” asks May Fern.

“Knowing how to talk is also important. If you have money and beauty but don’t know how to talk and gossip, you will be cheated, both money and body.” May Leng interjects.

“Compassion is also needed. We need to show care and love for the unfortunate, especially the stray animals. That’s why I adopted my Goddess,” adds May Hong.

“No, all of you are wrong. Beauty is the most important. With my beauty, I can go out there and live off the fatta the rich man. No need for talk or compassion. Remember Xi Shi, the ancient Chinese beauty who caused the rival king to neglect his state affairs when she was presented to him? I am the Singapore Xi Shi, with beauty personified in May May,” the youngest daughter speaks.

“Nah, money…”

“No, compassion for strays…”

“Beauty!”

“Gossip, can hook men, sweet-talk them!”

The four daughters continue to debate which is the most important element in life, each emphasizing on her love – money, gossip, strays, beauty.

“Hello, dear sisters, I’m back!” announces May Tin, as she enters the house.

“Aiyoh, men are the most important in life,” May Tin declares. “I just met my Prince Charming tonight. I’ll tell you people all about him. Michael…such a lovely name. We spent such a romantic night at the East Coast Beach, walking bare-footed, with his arm glued, yes glued to my waist. I’m so happy. I feel complete. He makes me feel so young again. He’s really a hunk, a real gentleman. Yes, Caucasian. I will gladly die for him…”

“Tin, judging from your praises, are you going to marry him or is he just another of your playtoys?” asks May Hong.

“I don’t know, when the time comes, I’ll tell you,” answers May Tin. “Love for men, men do make my life worth living. I live for my man,” exclaims May Tin.

May Tin joins in the discussion with the rest of her four sisters at the round table.

“Money!”

“Gossip!”

“Strays!”

“Men!”

“Beauty!”

The clock strikes eleven. Goddess finds a comfortable rug nearby and curls herself to sleep. Outside, the moon is shining bright.

Author: Lionel L (04 June 1997)

 

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