Field camp was an experience unlike any other. I found the whole thing quite surreal, to sleep in an oil palm plantation for five days, with the last under the stars. By day the oil palms form neat rows and provide some respite from the heat, by night their crowns rustle amidst the blue starless background. They've never looked so tall, and they suddenly look so plentiful. If you don't wise up quickly, like poor old me, you sleep with your back on the hard, unforgiving soil. If you've internalised it, then you sleep on your side. There's no bathing, and if you happen to be as unfortunate as my company, you endure a night of endless rain for seven hours, where the cold water seeps through your clothing while you sleep in your cramped basha, and the mud doesn't stop splashing up at you.

I'm a five-week old chao recruit, but five weeks later I already feel like a seasoned soldier. Five weeks later I realise I've made it more than halfway through basic training, though lest I rejoice, there's still one year and eight months ahead of me. When I get to book out I feel quite aimless if not for friends to talk to, and if those friends are busy, then I feel aimless. When I have the time, I'm going to cycle in the early morning one day and enjoy a nice and fresh sunrise.

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