Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Demystifying Plebehood: My Fondest Memories of Being a Dumb Guard (Part 5- The Incorporation Day)



The only easy day was yesterday...
 

Throughout the summer of 2002, our squad leader and buddy kept telling us to look forward to our Incorporation Day because our beast-like existence would change after that. They also said that it would mark the beginning of another chapter of our journey inside the hallowed grounds of the academy. Moreover, summer camp was just a sort of orientation, and that it would only be after incorporation to the regular corps can we truly feel the life of a cadet. So, that was just an orientation. After what we’ve been through; after a number of my classmates have resigned or quit- that was just an orientation! I was filled with both anxiety and excitement over what was forthcoming to us. I told myself to be strong, to keep the faith and to never quit no matter what.

After our trainers announced the final date of the Incorporation, we were told to write letters to our family to invite them for the occasion. I remember that when I finished my letter (on a yellow paper), half of it was all "please bring me the following FOOD- bukayo, biscuit, ice cream, peanut brittle, spaghetti, bread, chocolates, etc. I told them very little about our situation. I didn’t tell them how thin I've become in just two months. I probably asked how they were, and invited them to come over for our incorporation but my mind was just too focused on listing down the food I wanted them to bring.  Fortunately, I did not have to worry where they could stay while they were in Baguio. Since most of us were from far away provinces, the training committee arranged the billeting of our respectively families. 

Our activities got even harder as the big day neared. We were supposed to become renewed persons- physically and mentally strong, disciplined, gentlemanly, and so on. Parade drills became more frequent. We spent more time learning how to shine shoes, iron uniforms, fix bunks, and shine some more. Until now, I can still remember the first time I held an M14 rifle. After just about a hundred meters or so of carrying it, my arms and shoulders have become so numb I thought I would drop it. I was amazed at how the yearlings would simply hurl that heavy barreled weapon on the air, or cock it and flip its butt with a snap as if it's the most ordinary thing in the world. But my determination to succeed prevailed and soon enough, it has become an ‘extension’ of my own arms. 1567091. That was its number. How could I ever forget? I held it for three years- with utmost care, with respect, with love.


This is my rifle.
There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My rifle is my best friend.
It is my life.
I must master it as I must master my life.
My rifle, without me, is useless.
Without my rifle, I am useless.
I must fire my rifle true.
I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me.
I must shoot him before he shoots me.
I will...


Then came the big day. I was beaming with pride wearing a full dress white for the first time. Thanks to my yearling buddy who prepared it, I felt like a real cadet inside that immaculate- looking uniform which, a few months back, was just a dream for me and for my classmates. The ceremonial parade was indescribable. I couldn’t believe I was actually there- a cadet at last. I summoned all my faculties to keep my entire system working, to stay focus,  listen to the commands, and avoid bogging down. I was scared because if I held my rifle too tight or too loose, it might slip from my hand and ruin everything. Fortunately, I was able to hold myself throughout the lengthy ceremony which seemed like a lifetime then.

I could just imagine the nervousness my parents had while watching us from the grandstand. I'm sure they weren't able to tell who their son was from among the hundreds of cadets who all looked the same from a distance. Were they on the edge of their seats while watching us do the manual of arms? They would tell me later, while we were together at the billeting area, how happy they were to see me in uniform. But they were also surprised and saddened with how skinny I have become since the last time they saw me. To their dismay, they couldn't even hug or kiss me as I rigidly stood there with other plebes. 

I could also recall my parents asking me if I wanted to just quit and go home. They must've been so worried seeing their son in such state- skinny, sun- burned (although I've always been dark-skinned), and exhausted. Any parent would've felt the same way. I told them I was doing great and that I wanted to stay and continue what I started. 

They brought me all of the food items I've requested. Well almost all. I probably consumed a quarter gallon of ice cream that day, to the amusement of my family. It was as if I've never seen or eaten ice cream in my life.  But yes, beast barracks made me feel hungry and craving for simple pleasures-like ice cream and spaghetti. It made me appreciate things I used to ignore when I was still a civilian. In two months’ time, I have learned so much about myself. I have discovered about the strengths and weaknesses I was never aware of, and I have appreciated the value of other people especially my loved I ones which I constantly overlooked.  Most of all my faith in God was renewed after realizing that only Him can get me through an ordeal like beast barracks. 

My family sadly left without me. Both my father and mother were teary- eyed when I bid them good bye. They probably felt it was futile convincing me to just go home with them and get a college degree instead. On the other hand, they probably felt it was best I stayed there where I was doing what I've always wanted to do. My mother would tell me years later that there and then, they knew I was contented and happy with the life I have chosen. I went back to barracks with mixed feelings- jubilant that I survived summer camp; happy that I spent time with my family; but sad that I'd be spending the rest of the year away from them. I slept that night contented with my little triumph, but anxious with how tomorrow would look like.