When I was a kid, I idolized the commandos. They were fearless, legendary, and almost mythical. I persuaded my parents to buy small plastic Airfix models of the British Commandos. I played make-believe I was one of them. I read library books about daring commando exploits.
On this day in June, 1986, I would be a commando myself. I couldn't believe it. This once tiny, skinny, sickly weakling, called �dry lizard� by relatives, would be a commando.
But the road here was far from smooth. We had endured a whole year of training which had transformed us from soft civilians into hardened warriors. Long days and nights of struggles and danger had been worthwhile.
Now we would officially wear the Red Beret, the commando's symbol in the Singapore Army. (In the USA the Green Beret is the symbol of their Army Special Forces). Our beret was red because of the blood we had spilled or were expected to spill.
Question: What did we do for the Red Beret Presentation? Answer: We put on the Red Beret.
The presentation took place at a shadeless spacious grassy field. It was here that we had bayonet practices in which we charged back and forth the whole length of the field, screaming our heads off, with bayonets fixed to our rifles, and perspiration streaming down our faces. Incidentally, I spent my twenty-first birthday doing that nearly a year before - not fun.
But today there were no mad screaming bayonet charges. Instead, all was quiet except for the sounds of passing vehicles on a nearby road. With the precious berets in our hands, we stood proudly at attention. Our parents, friends and other visitors watched eagerly. �DON BERET!� The parade commander's loud authoritative command reverberated through the air. (The parade command was in Malay, which was standard practice in the Singapore army.)
For the first time, we donned the Red Beret officially. Remember, the crest should be directly above the left eye, I reminded myself as I adjusted my beret. At this precise moment we became commandos. Visitors clapped and cheered. Our parents' faces beamed with pride. We weren't the only ones who suffered. While we trained, our parents had no doubt been worried sick for our safety.
After the parade, we had a few minutes with visitors. I was happy that my parents, sister and a few friends (including an army infantry officer from another unit) were there. They had all encouraged me so much during the past year. We took photos. My parents� eyes reflected pride. When I looked at their eyes, I was even more convinced that all the suffering had been worthwhile.
Thank you, God, for giving me the Red Beret. You have been with me through all those struggles. Nothing but your amazing grace had seen me through. I could not have done it without you. The Red Beret is an offering to you.
P.S. - Video of a 2007 Red Beret ceremony showing them donning the beret. |
