One of a Kind (2nd Edition)

DAY ONE AND THE FIRST SIX WEEKS

124

SEVEN

recruit would step up to attention before the officer and slap the back of his right hand on the

palm of his outstretched left hand. The cash, down to cents for half month’s pay, would be

plonked down on the right palm and the recruit had to shout “Pay correct, Sir!” step back, turn

right smartly and fall out. No saluting, as they were in PT kit. This was the format for receiving

anything due to a soldier that was personally handed out by a superior on parade, including

prizes, scrolls and the like. This first pay parade was timed such that the recruit would be able to

pass his salary to his family when they came at the weekend and not risk leaving large amounts

of cash around the barrack rooms.

The best part of the guest day to most recruits was that the guests would be allowed to

bring food and other creature comforts. For nearly everyone, this was a real treat. There were

some, however, who would have no visitors because they had somehow become estranged

and some, who had actually joined the army to get away from troubles outside, reminiscent

of the applicants for the French Foreign Legion. There was great excitement on that weekend

and many joyful reunions. For the guests, the recruits were a sight—weird haircuts, ill-fitting

uniforms, jockey caps, complexions burnt black by the sun, leaner and perhaps meaner. They

were also bemused by the strange practices such as saluting and coming to attention when

addressing an officer. Some recruits still instinctively halted when they saluted a passing officer

not yet having got the hang of saluting on the march. And, to some, the thick rubber mattresses,

two pillows, mosquito nets, flush toilets, and the distinct air of order and tidiness were luxuries

they could not offer at home or were alien to their lifestyle.

For the majority of the recruits, parents, relatives and girlfriends were a reminder of a saner,

more congenial world out there. Apart from the comfort of their caring presence, they brought

home-cooked food in thermos carriers, liniments for every imaginable muscular discomfort,

‘cooling’ concoctions brewed with loving care and tidbits to stash away for midnight snacks.

Those without visitors of their own were generously invited to join family groups. Others

were embarrassed by motherly insistence that they instantly consume the nutritious or life-

sustaining potions ‘smuggled’ into camp, believing that their sons must by now surely be at

their last gasp. For about two hours, it was practically impossible not to trip over photo groups,

from the Guard Room to the barrack washrooms. And then suddenly, it was all over. After

seeing off their guests at the Guard Room, each recruit, now lonelier than ever, slunk back to

his bunk to review his little horde of goodies, or to share them with his barrack mates, or to

wish heartily that he had never set eyes on the recruitment pamphlet with Clarence Tan’s MG

Midget. But then again, the next weekend was only six days away after all.

The fifth weekend brought unalloyed joy to 6 recruits—or it may have been only the three in

‘B’ Company—one in each platoon. It was never disclosed who mooted the idea and why. It

defies rational explanation because any way one cuts it, the pieces don’t fit. But the beneficiaries

were certainly disinclined to worry about the equitableness of their good fortune. Each of the

selected recruits was privately approached by their section instructor and told that they would

be allowed to go home from 1300 hrs on Saturday 2

July till 2359 hrs on Sunday 3

July. They

would have to be in uniform going out and coming in. It would seem that the lottery was won