12:40 p.m. - 2001-02-20
enemy at the gates
Enemy at the gates
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narrator's voice:fuckin cheebye....worse....sunday guard duty.
group of soldiers with heavy rifles slinged across their SBOs,walking ( if there is any kind of walking in the army,it should be called half-marching)in step towards the guardroom-a concrete shack just beside the great gates.
view of the strong iron gates and the barbed wire fence barricading the camp,outside is the winding road flanked both sides by leafy trees.....such a dark lonesome road where foilage hides the sun and brown dead leaves litter the road.no one sane would relish the joy of walking that bloody long road leading into camp.
especially on a sunday morning.
such is the way our army camp is....separated from the civilian world ...in more than physical terms.
one soldier stands in the sentry box ,situated near the gates,holding his rifle in a fashion which is as alert and as slack as possible ,somewhere between these two extremes,the most comfortable position where the rifle sling hanging heavily around his shoulders would not cut into his flesh.Actually,there is no such position.that's why soldiers always shrug their shoulders to adjust the sling to another part of their flesh ,rotating them from time to time.
the gate-ic stands on one leg,holding a ragged wooden clipboard in his hands ,to copy down the number plates of any vehicle which might drive into camp.of course,there are seldom any vehicles because it's sunday morning and that's the way our camps are...almost all the soldiers leave the camp happily during weekends,leaving the unhappy few that were tasked duties who would have to stay behind and carry them out while the rest of the world are enjoying their saturday nights and sunday afternoons hanging out with their family and friends.
sunday guard duty:24 hours:one whole stretch of time and time it passes slowly.
hence it would be best to the mental well-being of the soldier to swear again:
fuckin cheebye....worse....sunday guard duty!
view of the strong iron gates...the lonesome road leading to the outside world....the gate ic standing on one leg chatting boredly with the sentry...
suddenly the slow hum of a vehicle approaches in the distance and we see a dusty maroon honda car whose life-span should be about another year or so coming towards the gates.
it drifted smoothly to the gates and rolled to a halt.the ghost in the machine hummed and waited like a wild animal eyeing its prey.the gate-ic and sentry awoke out of their bored mindless chat in surprise and stared at the vehicle as it waited purposefully outside the gates.
it honked once.like the sudden yawns of confident cats as they neared their pigeons.the gate-ic suddenly remembered his duty and walked hurriedly to open the gates.The iron gates were huge and so heavy that he had to bend backwards and using his body weight,pulled the gates creakingly inwards.
the maroon honda car rolled slowly into the camp and stopped beside the sentry box as the gate-ic beckoned to the driver .the window at the side of the car rolled down and a guy dressed in t-shirt and bermudas(standard "civilian" clothes) in the car shook his head irritably and drawled in a frustrated voice:
what's the problem?
the duty of the gate-ic as stated in the guard duty standing orders is to halt any vehicle entering or leaving the camp and check the vehicle eg.its boot,for security reasons.such is the power held by the gate-ic...no one can over-rule him and refuse to surrender the vehicle for him to check or search,not even those with beautifully designed amulet ranks.
the gate-ic stood at the back of the car and pointed at its boot,signalling to the driver that he wanted to check his car boot.maybe his demeanor was a bit rude or disrespectful ,for the irritated driver reprimanded him after he had finished his check.
civilian(in a demanding voice):hey! what is your name?
gate-ic: 3rd sgt chng.
civilian: do you know who i am?
gate-ic (irritated that the guy was acting big-shot,asked him back): do you know who is my CO?
civilian: i dun know!
gate-ic (in simple logic thinking): if you dun know who is my CO,then how the fuck do i know who you are?!
civilian: i 'll complain to your CO!
the angry guy dressed in "ceevee" clothes shut up and roared away in his vehicle towards his unit somewhere deep inside the camp.the gate-ic copied the number-plate down on his ragged clipboard and shrugged.
aftermath:
few weeks later,our gate-ic received a summons from the RSM.he went to the RSM's office immediately and stood there bravely as the RSM (whom we nicknamed "broken shitmouth") scolded him about the matter.minutes later the gate-ic came out of the office and wiping his sweated brow,told us in relief:
~phew..nearly sign a few extra.
the end.
