Week 2

Week 2

Monday

Before I fell asleep on Sunday night, I did some workouts in my room. I know I shouldn’t be exercising outside of training periods so that I can get enough rest, but ever since I’ve gotten here, I’ve lost some weight and gotten in better shape. I figured I might as well get as fit as I can while I am here.

In the morning, we had PT again, and then a topography class. Today was also our first day of first aid training.

First aid was especially horrible – I found the lesson content to be quite repetitive. Also, the civilian staff treat us like crap. Sure, the military instructors don’t make us too happy, but at least they respect our dignity. Not true with the civilians. The platoon is quite angry that people who haven’t gone through basic training are treating them so rudely. One female instructor with blonde hair is fond of putting candidates down.

Tuesday

We had morning PT from 0510 to 0545, and then we showered, ate breakfast, and then cleaned our rooms until 0650. 0700 was our inspection, and it went pretty poor for the platoon. They found a pubic hair in one of the platoon toilets. I don’t know whether to laugh or to fear the repercussions of not being able to keep the common washrooms clean as a platoon.

Next we had a drill for about an hour. We marked time (alternating knee 90 degree knee-lifts) for quite some time, and now my heel hurts from stomping the ground so hard when bringing my leg down. Next we had another PT – circuit training.

Again, we had first aid classes. A master corporal with the loudest voice I had ever heard yelled at us so hard that the entire platoon seemed to be petrified. It’s funny – 60 adolescents with beads of sweat forming on their noses, standing straight and looking forward at the roaring of a middle-aged, out-of-shape master corporal. I guess when you’re part of the masses, group mentality can have a positive feedback effect on influence.

At night, I went outside for a breath of fresh air and met a man named Vincent. He is married to a Korean woman, and lives in Toronto. He told me his life story, about his contracting business, how the military hospital gave him a drug that caused his stomach lining to practically begin melting away, and more. He is around 40 years old, and he has a huge house in Toronto with a swimming pool in the backyard. He has two sons, and he gets to visit Korea once or twice a year. I’ve only ever visit my own home country once. I wonder how long it will take for me to get what he has?

Thereafter, I spent a lot of time lying down on the grass outside the north doors with my friend, Young. We seem to click well with each other since we can freely talk about our feelings and thoughts on a variety of things. When I lie down on the grass and look at the sky, I also take my phone and play Claude Debussy and reflect. It doesn’t really help me with anything, but I like to think it does. To be honest, things can get pretty boring during basic even though you are so busy every day. When I’m not bored, it probably means I’m too busy to take a break from training. So when I get to lie down and listen to Debussy, I feel like I’m experiencing the “perfect boredom”, where boredom is appreciated in and of itself because it signifies freedom to me.

Wednesday

We had morning PT again – we were forced to hold the plank position for 2 minutes, and then had a 2 minute break. This repeated for 30 some odd minutes. By the end, my abs were made of jello. We had a short timing thereafter – I climbed down 7 floors, marched 300 meters to the mess, ate a breakfast sandwich in 2 minutes, marched back 300 meters, and climbed up 7 floors just to get to my room. This took about 10 minutes total. Thereafter, we had to prepare for inspection.

When we are preparing for inspections in the mornings, some people in my pod don’t help out with anything and sit lazily in their rooms while others are brushing floors, dusting nooks and crannies, and mopping. I wish the staff could be there to evaluate integrity and sense of duty, but then again, if instructors were there then people wouldn’t be lazy. I guess it can’t be helped.

One of the cadets here really angers me as well. The cadet is really experienced in the military, having done BMQ and reserve training before coming to RMC, but he can’t seem to correct other people’s mistakes without criticizing them or making them feel bad about themselves. Everyone is different, and some people won’t be able to perform as well as others until they have some more time to grow up or change, but putting them down is one thing I cannot stand.

I keep standing up for the cadets who often get made fun of, but I feel that this might make many enemies for me. At the same time, standing up against “bullying” is something I am proud of. I’m going to try to stop bullying on an after-action basis by having a frank, friendly, one-on-one chat with the cadets that do the taunting. Of course, everyone here is still reasonable, and deep down, they all want to become better people. This is why I trust my comrades even when they put each other down.

We had first aid for the rest of the day. This time, the civilian staff was an old Frenchman. He was so friendly and polite, that I actually felt like learning first aid for the first time. I wish all classes were taught with respect, but this is an impossibility because there are those that fool around and don’t listen when instructors are nice. For a subject such as first-aid, it is critical that everyone knows completely what they are doing. So I guess this cannot be helped either.

Thursday

Today, we had a free morning, and then an inspection at 0700. We had PT (physical training) after inspections today and I liked it a lot. It was running class, and they taught us how to run better. The platoon commander was watching from the bleachers. I ran extra hard for our Lieutenant Navy. I guess I understand now why the mere presence of an officer can be a big morale boost. I’m anxious to be able to boost the morale of my subordinates some day.

Next, we had first aid classes again. We performed CPR on adult and infant mannequins. Seeing 60 future officers crouched on the floor, carrying choking baby dolls and administering back blows was not funny at first, but the more I think about it, the more I laugh. Group mentality can make people do silly things and keep them from seeing the silliness of their actions completely.

At the end of the day one of our sergeants was very angry and gave us a long speech. He didn’t yell, and he didn’t disrespect anyone. It turns out that a quiet, lecturing can be the most painful at times. He commented on our poor morale, our inability to work as a team, our irresponsibility, and compared them to the expectations of an officer. His words were so true that I would have rather done PT than listen to what he said. One thing that remains burned in my mind is that he says that people can either salute you or your rank.  A captain that does poorly will receive only salutes for his rank, and nothing else. I never want to be saluted simply for the symbols I wear on my shoulders.

Friday

Finally, Friday.

We had morning PT involving chin ups and planks. Then we had a first aid review class. It was pretty uneventful like last week’s Friday.

Saturday

Today we went to the war museum in Ottawa. Although I had a lot of fun looking around at the various exhibits, we were given a sheet of questions to answer while touring the museum, and thus I couldn’t enjoy the museum as much as I could. On lunch break, Young and I walked to the roof of the war museum where a small field of poppies were in bloom. I can see why John McCrae was so touched by the poppy fields in Flanders. Will the later struggles in my military life be represented as such beautiful red flowers? I don’t even know if I will ever go through anything that physically difficult once I become a logistics or legal officer. So I feel guilty about thinking that I should ever deserve the blood red beauty of the poppy.

Sunday

We went to the cemetery today to show our respects to the fallen soldiers of past and present. We marched off the buses and made a circle around a large cross. We heard O Canada, The Last Post, and God save the Queen. The sun was in our eyes, and I could feel that many didn’t want to be there that day because some people were looking around with their eyes while the songs were playing instead of looking straight and concentrating their efforts in silent reflection. After, we were given thirty minutes to roam the cemetery.

They say that this is one of Canada’s oldest cemeteries. I saw tombstones dated from the the 1700s. If I ever die on a mission, will I be visited by hundreds of recruits and officer candidates? It is a sad thought that I can’t seem to avoid. What I really learned today was that it is not one tombstone that makes a war cemetery, it is the efforts of all soldiers that die in combat that makes a war cemetery. To that effect, I will make sure to at least try add to that effort more than the average officer does

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