Friday, June 29, 2007

With pride.

I guess SISPEC isn't so bad a number after all.

When my morale is low, all I want to do is to get out of being a trainee and be in unit like MP, signals or Air force. I guess I still want RSAF cause I can be an ATC. I have experience in that. And its a shift job so I can go home after my shift is done. I want that!

Then again, sometimes when morale is high, I want to chiong swah and go to Guards.
I want the pride of wearing the Khaki beret. But the thing is I don't think I'll relish the pain. A trade-off is required. No Pain, no gain.

So I guess I will express interest in the Air Force and MP, but I'll still do my best so I will have a chance at Guards. And where they post me, I'll accept it.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

Freedom.

Flew my first sortie since March. I was solo after about 3 months of not flying. Boy did I feel rusty when I stepped into the 9V-BOQ cockpit. The moment you perceive the control panel, the brain starts cranking into gear and whirls. "Uh-oh what's this knob? Oh its the mixture control...and this is the throttle...ah the Master switch..." and so on and so on. It was like being reacquainted with a loved one you've not seen for a few months. Not to mention of the joy of seeing her when I stepped onto the tarmac.

Darshan was flying with another student in the other Cessna. I was right behind and then they rolled onto the runway and took off just before I did. Felt some sort of weird feeling watching my instructor taking another student up right before I did.
2 years ago I was in that position. Felt like a old hand now though I am not.

I was really rusty at first. Could not keep ahead of the aircraft. She was flying me instead of myself flying her as Darshan would say. I was actually furious at myself for flying so sloppily. You don't feel good flying bad. Slowly though, as the minutes past, what I've been taught about flying just comes back. I start to regain the instincts so familiar to me since I before I last sat on this seat.


The first landing was quite sloppy. But as I did more circuits they obviously got better. I even passed the no-power glide landing standards! Both times I tried it! Wow. That's instinct and skill. Luck may have something to do with it too. Can't explain the feeling that I felt while landing the aircraft. Only that feelings of excitement, fear and joy had crept over me each time I was on final approach all the way to touchdown.

I wonder why some pilots stop flying. Sure, while in NS I was detached from the aviation world with the exception of seeing airliners coming into to land at Changi. Yet, I somehow also felt connected to it by the action of keeping an eye on the aircraft as long as I can till it passes out of sight. Some pilots just stop flying after a period of time when they are separated from the flying club. Why? Its easy to forget the magic that the feeling of flight gives while you are away. But when one is at it again back at the controls of his airplane, it all comes back. The excitement, the stress, the fantastic feeling of controlling one's destiny even if maybe for just an hour.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

7 weeks in.

7 weeks in the army now.
Life sucks in there.
No freedom.
Brain is deterioting.
I like the soldiering.
I hate the regimentation.
I hate the politics.
I wish I could be a civilian again.

I don't care where I'm gonna be posted. Infantry, Guards, MP or whatever.
Its boring in there. There's no excitement that I thought there might be.
I want more missions. Instead of freaking PTs and SOCs which I so hate. I tear my hands each time I do the monkey bar or climb the low rope. I so despise the chao keng assholes. Integrity mean nothing to them. I;m glad I'm not like them.
But then again, my enthusiasm is waning. I started out full of fire and now after just 7 weeks, the bonfire is now just a candle flame.

On a lighter note. I learnt that cough mixture and wine is the perfect combination to get drunk. I had cough and after taking the codeine which the MO gave one night during book out. Wenbiao came over and we had a bottle of Trentham Pinot. After like 2 or 3 glasses I conked out.