Frank's Politically Correct Versh of Reflections on EX Lancer

##DISCLAIMER : To anyone I unintentionally cast in a negative light in my potrayal, and to whoever I made not-so good comments about, I am truly sorry but this is my honest opinion and well.. don't take it to heart and.. yeah.. sorry... no hard feelings...##

Reflections on Exercise Lancer

The cheers from everyone as we landed back in Singapore are perhaps the most telling sign of how everyone felt about Ex Lancer. For me personally, it was further a lesson of defeat and humility, and not really a stark awareness of one’s mental ability or endurance, as some say. Brunei, from the festering jungles to the treatment we got at Lakiun, was a bitter experience, and to many, like me, it was harder to swallow as we came back empty handed.

I came to Brunei knowing that it would probably be the toughest jungle experience out there, and also knowing for me, it would be a test of how well I did things individually. I set myself 4 resolutions – (1) to get the JCC badge, (2) not to get foot rot (3) to conquer my fear of cold and survive out there (4) to make lasting friendships and bonds. After facing the jungles of ROC and Singapore, I pretty much erroneously and arrogantly thought all the jungles would be the same and well, it would be just an extended Ex Red Beret or sorts. Of course, I was to be humbled.

EX Betayan
Being the last time we fought as a platoon, I felt that we should really finish it with a bang and do a splendid job. Alas, many a times it was just a confused tangle of people and voices and there never really was a proper command and control. At times, it bordered on a one-man show, or a one-section show but at other times, it was just a complete mess. This was especially so at contact point 2, where I felt that three major factors was that (1) the PC’s voice was undistinguishable amongst the shouts and gunfire and hence the Sect Coms weren’t sure of what they were supposed to do, (2) The PC at times failed to do a proper AOS before making a decision, (3) But to make matters worse, the Sec Coms just refused to follow his instructions, making their own comments and taking matters to their own hands, which was debilitating to the PC. In essence, there were too many self-appointed Indian chiefs around.

EX Chindit
As the OC runner, I thought I was going to be used to do the blow-ups, ops-orders and so on, which I was pretty experienced in. However, I wasn’t used in that aspect at all as the OC pretty much did everything and told me my job scope was to stay around him and man the comms. I did so diligently, knowing there were many lessons to learn, especially concerning the workings of people in higher command than PC, how they coordinated events and how they managed the PCs. What I learnt, however, was what not to do if I were the person in command. I felt one of the biggest problems was that at many times, tactical sense was compromised as the OC would shout pretty loud at the men or to call the PCs, and this was so even though we were so close to the enemy. The whole fiasco at 4x4, with the Foxtrot Wing Commd shouting loudly over the whole place and the noise we made whilst crossing the river really undermined the tactical sense of the mission. I realized how important it was to set an example to the men, because it was due to the OC not really having sound discipline that the rest of the men corresponding also ignored sound discipline and any tactical sense of the mission.

I also learnt how important the image of a commander was and how deeply it affected and influenced his subordinates. Even a seemingly harmless thing like sitting down during tactical halts or not looking wiped out after a hefty climb can have very negative effects on your men, simply because they expect their leader to be invincible, if not, nearly there. They expect their commander to not tire out easily, to be as garang and possible, and some even use that to motivate themselves. When this image is shattered, the confidence and determination of the men seemingly also drop.

Another thing I learnt was how important it was to observe even the simplest things that could have huge effects on your men. A simple mental note to slow down after every obstacle we pass, and to set a comfortable, albeit slow but steady pace in the front would ensure that everyone in the company can catch up and can move along at a comfortable pace. Ultimately, everyone plays a part and a commander has to take care of even the most insignificant soldier’s health and life.

At the Platoon FUPs, I felt that the OC failed to do a proper AOS and wasted far too much time chastising his PC (whom he was to assess), failing to realize it was getting dark and there was little time to assault the objective and capture it completely. He also pretty much threw H-hour out of the window early on in the mission, citing the motorboats coming late as the reason we should not attach too much significance to the timing. Hence, such mentality carried on till it was dusk already and the sun was setting fast, yet the OC insisted that one of the platoons bash through the vegetation to find a better route of assault. The OC also neglected to coordinate the 3 platoons attack, being more preoccupied with assessing the PC of Foxtrot 1, and hence making the assault very messed up. I thought the movement phase was only a small part and a major part of the OC’s job was to coordinate the assault of all 3 platoons.

EX Nomad
EX Nomad was our first taste of the Brunei jungles, which proved to be a formidable foe. Our maps were basically useless appendages as there were simply too many blank spaces on them and that meant many hidden rivers, streams, knolls, spurs and even solitary ridgelines. Most of the times, we just had to blindly bash or take whichever path that headed in the right direction, as even contours shown or the terrain visualization did not help at all. With such a premise, our patience and determination were tested over and over again as we kept missing checkpoints, heading into ravines, climbing up a knoll just to realise it was a hidden one. Being the navigator, it was particularly frustrating for me as I felt the added mental pressure. Things reached boiling point on the second day when we kept circling round our MP, but never really being able to find it and our patience with each other also wore thin. Thankfully, we recovered and did very well the next day to get 8 points.

For our detail in particularly, it was a breath of fresh air as we had not done well in previous navigations. But we learnt from our mistakes and constantly adapted our ways got our act together this time. We learnt 4 valuable lessons. (1) We learnt to stop and think, instead of foolishly bashing through 1km of route before realizing it was wrong. That put a terrible strain on us initially. Our strategy ended up being that whenever we reached a spot we were unsure, like a cross junction, we would recce down 200m to see whether we were sniffing in the right direction. (2) We learnt to utilise each others abilities effectively... I was the pathfinder as, effectively a navigator who pretty much used intuition, observation and direction to find a way through, and i tended to like to use the nice large trails. Edgar was the direct basher, whom took over on the second day when i got really irritated after PANT/SUIT, and did wonders as he found a much shorter route back to the northern parts of the AO. Royston, with all his meticulousness, was a superb plotter who paired well with sure footed Fadli as the pacer... (3) Positivity is THE key. Edgar kept saying "We'll be there soon.. around 300m...", and though we all knew it most probably was around 1km of gruelling bashing or so on, it did lift our morale. (4) Remembering important and prominent objects in the surroundings helped a great deal when we had to bypass the area again.

EX ChillBone
EX ChillBone was a terrible and exhausting experience where we truly fought it out with the terrain. Because we had new details, we also had to figure out the new dynamics and start working together as a team. Sadly, our detail, albeit each of us strong in our different ways, could not really find our roles and work together well and we ended up navigating in a rather unsure manner, many a times abandoning one suggestion to adopt another and then changing again, making our progress very slow at times. Our initial hopes of getting 40 points quickly faded away and we were pretty soon fighting for our lives and just putting in all our effort to get to the end. It is pretty amazing the things we did, especially on the 3rd and 4th day, to just pass the exercise. First was that we reached 168 at 3:59, and thinking that we wouldn’t be able to cross once it was after 5:00, I basically led a fast march all the wall from 168 to 169, passing dangerously thin planks to cross rivers and squelching in the mud trails and all of us just pushed on even though we were so tired. We made it in around 50 minutes time and managed to cross. Another incident was the 4th day where me and Melvin had terrible foot rot and we though we were going to fail as it was getting closer and closer to 1800 hours. We saw Bt. Sagiran looming ahead of us and climbed the whole mountain from its side, just climbing and climbing and fast as we could in the pelting rain, trying our best not to fall. It was a deceptively tough and seemingly never-ending climb and when we reached the top we just collapsed there and waited to recover before moving on. All in all, we walked through 2 nights and reached 4A in the nick of time. However, this walking through the night took a toll on our feet and me, Hichael and Melvin all had various degrees of foot rot, methinks because we walked through very dirty river water in the day and then had no opportunity to take off our boots properly and dry them as we were moving at night.

EX ChillHermit
Even though my stint was short, I learnt a lot of things through that one night and also when I was back in camp. I started off ChillHermit in a pretty bad shape, as I had lost my L-torch, and all my clothes and stuff were all wet as my field pack was torn and the trash bag unfortunately was also torn at one part. Furthermore, my insect repellent had burst and turned my equipment into a great mess, It was a huge psychological blow to me. This taught me really how important it was to be prepared and to ensure everything was in a tip top condition and all preparations are made. It was THAT crucial especially in terms of survival.

Due to my foot rot, I couldn’t really walk much but I knew I had to build the shelter up if I wanted any hope of airing my feet at night and hence I hobbled around to cut wood and gather materials, which me and Luke later worked together to build both the skeletons of our A-frames up. We were progressing fine when Yi Kiat came along and whined that Hichael just sat there and did not do much and asked Luke to help him find vines as he hadn’t done anything yet. Then it started to rain.

My spirits really were dampened by the rain but I knew I had to keep them up and started singing hymns in bid to wait out the rain. When I realized it was going to get dark however, I went to find Luke and together, we made a makeshift shelter to sleep under. Yi Kiat came along again to seek shelter and he complained again on how Hichael couldn’t help him and he had to do all the work. Meanwhile, rain kept seeping in the shelter, tuning the night into the longest, coldest and most miserable night for me. I took off my boots with great difficultly, and ended up having to cut my socks and extricate my feet. By now one feet was totally raw and sensitive to anything I touched and the other was starting to rot as well. The stench of death and rotting was also terrible and because my feet were so sensitive, I had to place them in Luke’s empty field pack. When I finally used to torchlight to shine on my feet, I took a huge mental blow when I saw it bloated and swollen, with red splotches everywhere. Even Luke and Yi Kiat gasped and said they never saw anything that bad at all. It was at that moment that the thought of me having to fall out surfaced. I never imagined my legs to be that bad and I was in tears over the thought of giving it all up and having to fall out. I kept praying to God, telling Him to cure my feet as I desperately tried to treat it with calamine lotion and antiseptic cream.

When the rain finally stopped 9 hours later, I climbed onto the shelter and tried to air my feet, but somehow the smell of my feet attracted tons of insects big and small, and even their small movements on my feet was completely painful and a torture. I was nearly hysterical at times already but just prayed for daylight to come soon. When it did, I tried to jump down barefoot to get my boots, but just one step and I felt as though some ants had bitten my hard and I went back onto the shelter—my feet were so raw and sensitive that it was that bad. And by now, my one feet was so swollen that I couldn’t fit my legs into the boot, and hence fashioned a makeshift slippers using the insole, some simpur air leaves and a rubber band. I took a whole 15 minutes to get from Luke’s site to my site, wincing at each step and wondering when the torture would end. When I reached me site, I climbed onto my shelter and tried to work on the supporting poles on roofing but when the materials ran out, I soon realized I was pretty much confined to my A-frame and couldn’t very much move. Then, my A-frame collapsed partially, dumping my into the mud and really, that accompanied with the many insects preying at my feet, finally made me snap. My feet were swollen, rotten and covered with mud, and though I tried to clean it with the rain water I had collected, when my A-frame fell, I dirtied them again and I feared things would not turn better for my legs. I told Luke to call the medic to see my legs as I rationalized to my self bitterly that it was not worth getting wheelchair-bound when I returned after 5 days just for the badge, no matter how much it was worth. My health had to take precedence over it.

I had to be carried for most parts back to Lakiun Camp where the MO assessed us and then we were put in the sickbay where we were informed that we were still in the course and we could return. I was still rather skeptical about it at first as my legs were in a terrible condition and the MO said mine was the worst, but after resting one night and seeing the swell subside and feeling much better, knowing that with the medication and cream I could stop the rot and perhaps let it heal, I was determined to return. I intended to rest one day first, doing sedentary stuff at Luke’s shelter perhaps, then hoping my feet would recover for the next day.

However, as I went out to get my boots, the Lakiun Camp Commander inquired on how I was going to continue working at my site, and then said he wouldn’t want me to go as he said if he sent me out, he would have to evacuate me that night. The MO agreed as well and well, I went back into the sickbay feeling a little cheated and defeated.

The rest of the days started the lessons in failure and humility. I don’t know why God stopped me from going back or why it all had to happen – perhaps I was really mentally weak, perhaps I was my lack of preparation that doomed me. Whatever it was, it was a bitter pill to swallow and I knew that I had to learn from the experience that well, sometimes you just don’t get things even if you had put in your 100% and sometimes, you just cannot compare with others. It is not lack of self-confidence, but rather, a lesson of humility. For the few days we whiled away in camp, I felt restless and useless and like wasting my life away. I was angry that I could not have the opportunity to go through all these, to really build a trap of my own and catch some fish, to be able to amass a number of stories to relate to my parents whilst showing them the badge. What made giving this up worse was the fact of how close I was. I was angry I had mentally given up at that time and wondered what I could have done.

To make matters worse, failures do not have any place to stand in OCS, and every pep talk every instructor gave after that when everyone returned felt like sharp stabs in one’s
pride. It was major humble-pie eating time, but I learnt many things.

So overall, Brunei wasn’t fun at all. But whether it taught me many life’s lessons? Yes. Life was never meant to be a bed of roses, and at times failures will come, and correspondingly, criticism will follow. Brunei was a good lesson in humility, failure, and how to deal with it.