"Bottles up!", "Caps off!", "Drink!" The 200 robots regimentally followed the order given by the seargent who was already in his 'smart 4' (green fatigues with sleeves neatly folded up to bicep level). I couldn't believe what I was made to go through. Replenishing the body with water has got to be the most natural action any dehydrated animal does. Here, it was choreographed to the last detail. Nobody was allowed to drink before the final command was given. Everyone had to hold up the bottle at chest level. The bottle had to be filled to the brim. Dripping--even the tiniest drop was punishable.
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2 comments:
Went to your blog and glanced at the other entries you wrote in the unwilling draftee series. While I admire the detail and effort, the level of whining was too much to take it seriously.
I remember feeling that way too when I was conscripted, but the earlier you accept it as an unavoidable situation, the earlier you can use it as a chance to build up physical and mental strength, friendships to last a lifetime and a chance to learn more about human behaviour.
Seriously man, its just the army and I am sure you even have a proper mattress, not a piece of sponge like most of us had to deal with.
Welcome to the army, mate.
I can't deny that it'll come across as "whiny" to some.
But i do wish i had a place to vent my feelings. I'm glad you did that.
As long as you do your bit in camp and don't sabo your mates, i have no quarrel with you.
-daniel
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