One Mountain After Another

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Commando Interview - How a frail, skinny, colour-blind boy with a fractured arm got into a commando unit.

Our Red Beret Presentation, which officially made me a commando

How I got stitched without anesthetics as a result of a martial arts fighting accident.

Unarmed Combat - "Kill Kill Kill!" we yelled as we fought

Parachuting - An assortment of my airborne stories

Water Miracle - "God, I am dehydrated. I need water badly. HELP."

Heat Exhaustion deep in the hot and humid tropical jungle.

My Tribute to a Fallen Lieutenant - He did something which made others bitter but made me appreciate and respect him even more. I miss him. Farewell, Lieutenant Sir.

Quest for the Black Belt - As part of the exam, I had to fight a seasoned Black Belt fighter called "The Bull." Could I overcome him?

Army Memories - An assortment of short stories.

Back to Life at The Home of The Commandos

Five Days Without Sleep - and a 35 km march to round up a week of torture, to earn our corporal stripes.

Commando's Prayer - Very meaningful prayer. Reveals the spirit of the commando.

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Favorite Military Links - includes the Singapore Commandos and other Special Forces.

Barracks Haunting - The old commando barracks where we lived are reputed to be haunted. They were used as a POW prison during World War Two. Many prisoners died. Here are the stories as reported by the Singapore Paranormal Investigators. Click on "Haunted Changi" and scroll down to "Commando Barracks"

This made me curious, energizing me. A few more agonizing steps and I would find out. At last I reached the summit. Everyone around me uttered every four-letter word I had ever heard in my life plus some I had never heard before. "F--king HELL! ##%%%*OXX%##!" Why all these curses? Were they not relieved that they had scaled this mountain? Hadn�t we reached the mountain top?

I was about to ask, �What�s the matter?� when at the right top corner of my eye, I noticed something huge and gray. Looking up, I saw a mountain steeper, taller, and more gigantic than the one whose summit we were standing on. It was as if someone had played a sick and not-so-funny joke on us. No wonder the curses. This taller mountain made me feel like I wasn't on a mountain at all. Oh, the awful back-to-square-one feeling.

But strangely, though as dismayed as the rest, I was in no mood to curse or swear. Ironically, I found the experience comical. I must have been the only one feeling this way. Looking at the reaction and faces of the others again, I chuckled.

The scene reminded me of Shakespearean plays that had both tragic and comical themes. Although I had responded to the Shakespearean "comedy" with a laugh, I now had to face the reality of the "tragedy," the even more gigantic mountain right ahead.

As the cacophony of curses winded down, men stood frozen, with faces transfixed and blank eyes staring at the gray expense above them. Fear was written all over their faces. Gazing up at this mountain, I knew I had to scale it, and the ordeal wasn�t a joke. Maybe behind this mountain, there's another even taller one . . . . But let's not worry about that yet. All I need to do next is to scale this mountain before me.

O Lord, help me conquer this mountain, just this mountain.

One Mountain After Another

After climbing a particularly tall and steep mountain, I finally reached the summit. As I tried to catch my breath, something unexpected appeared right before me - a Shakespearean tragic-comical scene that would be forever etched in my mind . . . .

Deep in the jungles of a foreign country, we were scaling this monster of a mountain. We had been in the jungle for days, carrying heavy loads of weapons and supplies. Using a Kukri (traditional Gurkha knife), the point man hacked his way through the thick tropical jungle. He laboriously cut branches after branches. As a branch is cut, another took its place; there seemed to be no end. As the point man tired, another took over. Fortunately, I was spared this thankless task because being a signaler, I carried the heavy and bulky signal set.

The slope was so steep that to pull ourselves up, we had to grab hold of branches or anything we could lay our hands on. We slid many times - three steps forward, two steps back. This mountain was one of the steepest and highest we had ever climbed. We were sure that after this mountain, our path would be much easier.

After a long struggle, we were almost there. I saw a few platoon mates having reached the top. Instead of expressing relief, they were staring at something in the distance with a look of disgust.

Heavy Load That's me. 1987.

My Tribute to RSM Sam Choo - He was a much respected commando.

My Army Picture Album (a separate website I created for pictures)

Somewhere a True Believer is training to kill you. He is training with minimal food or water, in austere conditions, training day and night. The only thing clean on him is his weapon and he made his web gear. He doesn't worry about what workout to do - his ruck weighs what it weighs, his runs end when the enemy stops chasing him. This True Believer is not concerned about 'how hard it is;' he knows either he wins or dies. He doesn't go home at 17:00, he is home.
He knows only The Cause.

Still want to quit?

NousDefionsDoc , U.S. Army Special Forces
www.professionalsoldiers.com