All these dumfuks are from Teluk Intan, including me, right most, L to R Mahsuri Hamdi, Sahak a Banjar from Bagan Datuk, Othman, ???, Zamri and Me

This is showing off time.

“Listen here you bastards, I want every corpse (we had not even started making mistakes) here, to execute my every command just as I taught you, I will have you killed, barbecued, minced, stomped if anyone of you whose mother is of a diseased reproductive organ does in any way embarrass me and the good name of this company”.

“Yes, sergeant!”

A reverberating cry from us. Short, terse commands are barked, we move dreading to make mistakes, everyone is alert, left turn, right turn, mark time, wheel, halt, present arms, shoulder arms, on and on it goes on for hours.

It just takes one stupid twerp, there are many, he turns in the wrong direction, it makes the day. We are brought to an abrupt halt, the twerp is physically hauled out of formation, slapped, kicked, bludgeoned and placed sidewise into a drain. The body can barely fit, not to worry he is stomped into this sewer, half his body is submerged in all the filth. 

Me and Hamid

One smart ass says out of the corner of his mouth, barely moving his lips but audible.

“Swami do something; Nik Man is going to die”.

“I know he’s going to die; why don’t you do something asshole”

“He’s your friend”.

“Since when?”

“I saw him clean your rifle when you were hard pressed the other day”.

“I believe you want me to clog up the drain alongside Nik Man”.

One of the sergeant’s henchmen moved so swiftly and struck smart ass, I nearly shitted, smart ass went down.

“No talking in the files”, he bellowed enraged that anybody could hold a meaningful conversation.

Out of the blue an Indian by the name of Karu fainted. He went down with a thud and the rifle with a crash on to the hard asphalt The commanding officer was beside Karu in two short strides,” Have him cremated, have him cremated”, he was jumping around immobile Karu like a crazed monkey, for the benefit of the rest of the Indians.

They had a lot of derogatory terms for us, because the Malays always considered anybody not Malay as an immigrant race. The Indians were referred to as “Kelings”, equivalent to the word "Nigger". Most of us bristle with anger when it is used on us. Then again we could do no shit!

The platoon sergeant, Mustafa was livid, he could not believe all this was happening in front of the commanding officer. He yelled at all of us to squatting positions, and ordered us to duck walk around the barracks, the heat from the asphalt and the sun was already baking our brains, we continued until we did not know the time of day.

Two containers of steaming tea were being carried by two guys who had reported sick, that elated me, break was not too far away, I had to hold on to savour the hot scalding tea. This is one of the little luxuries bestowed on us unfortunates. Karu meanwhile was carried off to the barracks, accompanied by a corporal who was berating him, “You want to extend your training for another three months”.

It’s normal for any one to have an extended stay when one is not performing to expectations, meaning instead of the normal six months of basic training it would become nine months. No sane person would like that unless one enjoys mental and physical abuse.

A whistle was blown, it was sweet music to the ears, the body sort of let’s go knowing relieve is soon on its way. We are ordered to fall out, we rush into our barracks to get our cups, we do that at a gallop and head towards the shelter where tea will be served. There’s Mr. Nightmare himself, Mustafa with the steaming containers of tea,” So you all want tea, you can drink it from the drain.”

He tilts the two containers; all the lovely tea is in the drain. The thirst is gnawing, if I had the guts I would enjoy sticking the bayonet into him. Next we rush for the pipes, they are dry, I wondered whether they did that on purpose. Break is over in twenty minutes.