One of the rare weeks where I felt more like a soldier than a IT helpdesk support staff. Exercise on Monday, shooting on Tuesday, more shooting on Wednesday, saikang party for regulars' range on Thursday [ because the crabs and bars were not expected to hang up target boards, pick up rubbish and expended rounds and wash toilets], and mounting signal sets on vehicles on Friday.
I am having foot rot; just like the heat rashes a while back its the first time in my life that I ever got it. I was pretty resistant to it, having survived my BMT fieldcamp, Wallaby and Starlight without anything, but fell victim this time as it spreads around like wildfire, at least within my platoon. I have not got down to curing it though; apparently the medication that the medical centre provides does not solve anything, and waiting three hours just for that five minutes of consultation and medication isn't time well spent.
On the other hand by the time I wake up on Saturday the clinic near my house has already closed. Which is also why I am still coughing to this day.
Maybe I am really dying.
I read with interest how Myanmar's military can turn the recent cyclone to its own advantage by sticking their generals' faces on the aid that flew in from other countries, to lead their people into thinking the military is doing its part to save them. The country's constitutional referendum carried on as usual, and most people that the newspaper interviewed had no idea what they were even voting for. They simply said 'yes' because they were told to do so. Talk about the power of the soldiers.
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