The Amazingly Immature Recruit

Some time back, J. was called back to an island resort for the purpose of serving his nation once again. He saw many a Singaporean male who had come to the island (mostly against their will) to learn to hold a gun and defend a nation.

My boyfriend, our army. My brother, our army. My son, our army. Bah.

When you are 5 years old, you look to your mother for her loving care. For clothes, for food, for transport, for comfort. When you are 5 years old and have a headache, you go to your mother and say, “Mama, I have a headache. Boohoohoo.” and your mother will comfort you and take you to the doctor who will prescribe paracetamol syrup for tension headache.

When you are 18 years old, you should NOT do the same thing. For instance, if you have a slight headache, you should not fall out of training and go to the Medical Officer and say, “MO, I have a headache. Boohoohoo.” That is just sad.

When you are 5 years old and about to be left at a new school, you can throw a tantrum “I don’t care! I want to go home! Mummy!”

When you are 18 years old and have enlisted for 3 days, you should NOT throw a tantrum in your MO’s consultation room. “I don’t care! I want to go home! You talk to me Mummy!” That is just gross.

J. will post more on the mentality of such recruits in a later post.

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One response to this post.

  1. Posted by MaMa on January 5, 2011 at 9:16 pm

    oh yeah, i came to your page for stethoscope thingy awhile back. kinda forgot why i subscribe to your update.

    hehe…but getting an email about your newest post makes me laugh.

    Reply

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