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7th Rangers: Recruit Training Center - Continued
 
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No Atheists
In A Foxhole

Rudyard Kipling

" ā€œWhen you're left wounded on
Afganistan's plains and

the women come out to cut up what remains,
Just roll to your rifle

and blow out your brains,
And go to your God like a soldierā€
General Douglas MacArthur

" ā€œWe are not retreating. We are advancing in another direction.ā€

ā€œIt is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it.ā€
ā€œOld soldiers never die; they just fade away.
ā€œThe soldier, above all other people, prays for peace,
for he must suffer and be the deepest wounds and scars of war.ā€
ā€œMay God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't .ā€
ā€œThe object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.

ā€œNobody ever defended, there is only attack and attack and attack some more.
ā€œIt is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died.
Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
The Soldier stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as bright as his brass
"Step forward you Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint."
I've had to work on Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
The Soldier squared his shoulders and said
And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you Soldier,
You've borne your burden well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

Proud To Have
Served With Warriors

Glorious
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Foreign Bloggers + 1 Sarawakian
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Gaming

Major D Swami
WITH Lt Col Ivan Lee
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Lt Col Ivan Lee
you want him with
you in a firefight!!!!

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With His
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Killed in Battle
In Death
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Whilst There Is
Life, There Is Fight

Not Done In Yet!!

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Recruit Training Center - Continued
Saturday, August 10, 2024

They put into practice George Custerā€™ s techniques, pacifying villages, body counts and massacres, made them look horrendously inept and an embarrassment to us, we who looked up to the good old US of A, the bulwark against communism, at the same time grudgingly admiring the weapons of destruction the Americans had at that time.

We had our own problems, communism in Malaysia was becoming active encouraged by the victories of their communist brethren in Vietnam. It had a profound impact on our training. All of us were serving by choice; we tried to excel in training as brutal as it was.

The butt of the SLR (self-loading rifle) was quite often used as club against us by our beloved instructors; those blood thirsty mother fuckers had no qualms about drawing blood. Some scalps were split, my, did they bleed profusely. The first time we went to fire our weapons, we went to a 25-meter range, all of us were excited, at long last we were going to fire a weapon.

We were lined up in details of five, the details were lined up on the firing point, we were like virgins, nervous, breathless wanting to do well. All the weeks of dry runs towards this day when were finally going to use our ā€œwivesā€. The command rang out, ā€œDetail to the firing point advance, in the lying unsupported position with a five round magazine load, Action! On your own time go on.ā€

I placed my cheeks firmly against the butt, aligning the sights on the center bottom base of a white patch on the target, I wrapped my fore finger firmly around the trigger and gently squeezed. I felt the bullet leave the muzzle and the quick recoil, I let loose the remaining four rounds. We inspected weapons and approached the targets at a run.

The instructor was staring at a group size measuring about twenty millimeters. The grouping wasnā€™t in the center of the target. At that time my knowledge on sights was limited to peering through them. The instructor took the weapon from me.

I was already preparing myself for a nasty butt stroke; instead he looked at the sights, made some adjustments and said, ā€œDonā€™t let anyone call you four eyes ever again You have a very good group size, I have made some adjustments I want you to fire again. Use the same technique, this time you will hit the spot you are aiming at.ā€ ā€œThanks sargeā€. I did, from then on it was plain sailing whenever I was at the rifle range.

The sergeant who was a real ogre, I shit you not, had this weakness, whenever someone does well at the range he tones down the physical abuse, mind you not the verbal abuse. After that we went into sub-machine guns, the only kind available at that time was the Stirling sub-machine gun, 9 millimeters. It was a British weapon, most equipment at that time was British, as they were our colonial masters some time back.

At that time, they traditionally monopolized our Armed Forces equipment, also they exploited maximum our defense spending, and during the old days they used the locals as canon fodder to protect the British Empire against the marauding Japanese during World War 11. Going back to the Sterling. It was a cute looking weapon, itā€™s butt was foldable and had a thirty round feed magazine.

It was used in the Star War movies, and was depicted as a futuristic looking weapon. Its breech was spring operated, when itā€™s cocked one has to be careful, as it would go off, if dropped or accidentally hit. Quite a number of unfortunate souls met their end this way, not mentioning the ones maimed or crippled. It was fun training with this weapon, I became adept at using this weapon.

All those guys who were not impressive enough at shooting always used to get the shit clobbered out of them. The other part of training I really hated was foot drill, the instructors loved drilling our arses to the ground. This is where they get to show their stuff, all of our instructors were from the Royal Malay Regiment, only Malays are allowed to join this regiment, other races are not allowed to die for their country fighting in this regiment only Malays are, their motto is Loyalty and Devotion.

The instructors of this calibre believed in their minds that by raising their feet high and stomping them into the ground meant they had great discipline. They liked it here, after work they could go back to their loved ones, one of the perks was they could sell foodstuff to the recruits to supplement their income, they do this by exploitation, the British had taught them well, they bring a big basket filled to the top with packets of food, nominate one blue eyed boy, one who sucks up to the instructors, to distribute the food packets.

He is given orders that the food must all be sold out. Woe betide any recruit who does not buy, it would be worst than hell for him. The problem with this business is the customer, the pitiable recruit earns only US 8 dollars fortnightly, current rate during those times. Some recruits need to send home money to their loved ones, some of them being the sole bread winner.

They managed to save and send by braving the food served at the cook house. All their efforts become undone when confronted with these blood sucking instructors. We who don't have money, need not worry, we are allowed credit! Imagine, one platoon of recruits has an average of 8 instructors, half of them are entrepreneurs, means all the recruits will remain in debt until the end of basic training for a duration of six months. One will observe after a month some of the instructors changing from Lambretta scooters to Italian Vespas, their business acumen paying off.

You will notice who is the most successful of them all by looking at the brass modifications. Motorized scooters were a common mode of transport then.
posted by Major D Swami (Retired) @ 8:21 PM  
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