mb: Ulu until no handphone signal

“There are no power points here and the mobile signal is intermittent. So I have to turn off my phone to save power. There are no bunks here, and we’re all staying in tents. Okgottago, mobilebatteryispreciousbyebye.” said Miyagi to me last night.

Three weeks in an Aussie desert, a battalion of Singapore soldiers with mobile phones without any mobile signal and no way to charge their batteries. I am surprised there isn’t already some kind of reservist uprising.

“MO sir, I dunno why leh, my hand shaking and I feel weak and faint. Maybe I need to MC or downgrade, you think? Ever since I found out I cannot sms or call my girlfriend/wife/children for three weeks, I have been feeling sick. No handphone liddat how I tell them to help me buy 4D and Toto?”

And can you imagine how difficult it would be for the I/C to gather the men who have gone for canteen break?

Oh wait. Desert has no army canteen. Not even that mobile canteen van driven by this uncle who always seems to know where to find our soldiers in the Singapore exercise areas.

What da heow?

Our land is girt by sea

Middle of nowhere is a stone’s throw away from where me and the boys are right now, as we’re being ferried across 120km of dusty roads to the Shoalwater Bay Training Area in Queensland.

We’ll be unloading our gear in a bit, sit and be briefed on a dozen things we have to do today, before collecting our bedding and other essentials, and given a coupla hours to nap before taking over some more stores.

More of the same tomorrow as the rest of the battalion arrives on the later flight.

iTunes is playing an illegal copy of Waltzing Matilda from the album “West of Winton” by Slim Dusty of which I have the original CD.


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Of beauty rich and rare

I am not looking forward to going for my reservist training.

My battle-hardened (water fights in the bathroom) unit will be sent to North Queensland and put in the bush for the most part of 20 days. I’m not too sure how I’ll hold up. There’ll be intermittent mobile phone access, but fuck me dead, NO INTERNET!

There are several things I need to buy to entertain myself and the rest of the boys. During the last four in-camp trainings, I had appointed myself the official platoon girlie magazine supplier. Girly magazines being Her World, Female and any other women’s magazine that helped bring out our feminine side. Because as you know, being the fiercest platoon in the fiercest combat team in the fiercest armoured battle group does make you neglect that bit of your personality.

In the last four in-camps, I’ve tried several brands of personal care products brought in by the boys, and we’ve swapped personal care tips like which facial wash is good, which foot lotion prevents stinky feet, and from me, they’ve learnt that panty-liners in hats and helmets prevent heat rash.

Reading Cleo, on the other hand, is disruptive. Most of the boys tend to get a little disturbed, and halfway through a long trek in the jungle, would suddenly spew spoken thoughts such as “Eh, so, women orgasm is got different kind one ah?”, to which an MG-Gunner or Section Commander would say something like “Yah, you dunno meh? Got large, got small, got loud, got soft”, to which the LAW-Gunner might go, “Eh, Sergeant, you know meh? You virgin what”. (Actually, the LAW-Gunner (not his real vocation) is usually bitchier and would probably go, “Yah, you dunno meh? Your girlfriend only got one kind ah? Maybe she’s saving the other varieties for other people, hahahaha!”)

Or maybe we’ll just keep quiet and enjoy the wide open country, the clear blue skies and the not so clear red dust. See how.

…abounds in nature’s gifts, …veddy good source of facial mudpack.

iTunes is playing an illegal copy of I Still Call Australia Home from the album “Singer-Songwriter: The Anthology” by Peter Allen of which I have the original CD.

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Squatting Matilda

Reservist Briefing
Mr Miyagi receives his medal for ‘Best Army Blogger’

Army briefings are seldom exciting, and yesterday’s one was no different. My unit mates all asked me, “Are you gonna blog this?” or, “Are you gonna blog about this?”, to which I replied, “No lah! So boring, blog what fuck?”

Of course I was kidding. “So boring”, but surely still can blog about it.

Today’s Army story comes by way of an anecdote shared by my platoon mate, in response to the safety and environmental briefing preparing us for Ex Wallaby 2005.

Our Safety Officer (you can spot him – he’s the one with the yellow helmet) told us that among the hazards we’ll be facing in Survivor: Outback Ex Wallaby would be kangaroos and wallabies, because when threatened, they can jump, kick, bite and cause nasty injuries to personnel’s personals.

Platoon mate’s anecdote:

“Last time Ex Wallaby that time, I go and pang sai lah, and usually, I go and shit that time, I go far far away. Because I don’t want my platoon mates to come and jee siao (disturb) me. Because when they shit that time, I also go and jee siao them.

So, I shit that time, I go far far away lah.

So, I shitting and smoking lah, then I look up, got seven kangaroos looking at me. Wah lan eh, I scared to move lah! Because the Safety Officer say, when we see kangaroo, don’t make sudden movement. Because they can attack you.

So I squatting there and smoking. I look at the kangaroo, the kangaroo look at me. Wah lan eh, I squat there damn long.”

And of course we had to ask him, “And then what happened?”

Platoon mate’s killer kangaroo line:

“Then they hop away lor”.

iTunes is playing an illegal copy of Casta Diva, From The Opera “Norma” from the album “2046 Original Soundtrack” by Angela Gheorghiu, Evelino Pido & Lodon Symphony Orchestra of which I have the original CD.

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