My Two Cents on Serving National Service

Almost a year into serving the nation, a family member asked me to summarize National Service in one sentence. I told her it wasn't possible because it was too early to say. Now that I've completed my two years, and am writing this in a different country, I finally have the perspective and clarity to discuss this topic. Before continuing, I'd like to state that the following views and opinions are mine alone and don't represent the organization in any way, shape, or form.

It's difficult to know where to begin without breaking the Official Secrets Act, but then again, my appointment isn't that important (in the grand scheme of things). Nonetheless, like my boss always says, the job we do “has a great impact on real people’s lives.” Hence, I'll skip the topic of day-to-day operations and how the different offices function, and instead talk about my experience throughout the two years.

Let me separate this into Basic Military Training (BMT) and unit life. Due to an underlying condition, I was declared non-combat fit from the initial checkups. As a result, my BMT was spent not in Tekong, but in Kranji. The three months there (two were for basic and rudimentary training, and one was for specific vocational training) were much better than my other peers who were in Tekong, braving the heat and humidity.

It must be mentioned that, like many others who are reading this, there's this underlying perception that NSF combatants are much more useful and superior when it comes to National Service, which I find to be undoubtedly true. The amount of sweat and physical labour they invest to be trained to defend the country isn't comparable to the non-combatants. For that reason, I'm humble and secretly proud of people around me who are combatants and have a high degree of respect for their efforts in safeguarding the nation. It is also not a coincidence that I continued my habit of running daily to push back against the stigma that non-combatants, who work essential 9 to 5 in offices, are 'lazy' and 'unfit' as compared to our fellow peers who are combat fit.

Back to what I was saying, BMT in Kranji was like a resort in comparison to Tekong, so much so some even go as far as to call it ‘Resort World Kranji.’ To answer anyone’s burning question, the answer is no, we don't have air conditioning in our bunks. But we do have much more admin time spent in our bunks resting. We can subdivide non-combatants into two separate groups: those who spend their nights in camp, and those who don't. I'm very fortunate to be part of the latter group. It also means that I can't speak for those who need to stay in camp during weekdays and book out on Fridays. I acknowledge that I came from a privileged position (many have tried to fake an excuse to be in the same boat as I am), but in stating this fact, I hope to discuss topics objectively and from a sensitive perspective as best I can.

For both groups, the daily scheduled program was the same, from 0830 hours till 1730 hours. We had the same lunchtime, attended the same lectures, did the same physical training, and rested in the same bunks. We were taught the basics of how to be a soldier: things like lacing your boots, cleaning a rifle, marching in formation, and so on. I won't bore you with more specifics. I'm sure prowling through Reddit for details is a much better option than me trying to explain BMT in a blog.

My section mates were very interesting people and not hard to get along with. Though we don't keep in touch anymore, I'm still grateful for their presence and help throughout the three months of BMT. As for the other sections, from what I've observed, there would be your usual troublemakers, people who suck up to the sergeants, and physically challenged people. It was very interesting to see the different groups of people interacting with one another and with the higher-ups. Some days they'd bite each other’s heads off, other times they'd cooperate to get to book out early. Discrimination is not uncommon either, though more subtle than your primary school cliques. I guess there's a certain maturity that comes with growing up. Hushed whispers among groups of friends to discuss a certain individual or egging each other on to provoke someone they deem ‘not normal’ when the sergeant isn't around – these are the two extreme ends which have happened. No fights (as far as I know) occurred during my BMT, but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen.

Did I feel safe in BMT then? My answer would be to a certain degree. Most of the time people just look away and ignore the injustices that happen, and I can't blame them as I'm guilty of it myself. It was the only real way to ‘survive’ in BMT. You don't want to make enemies at the start of your two-year journey. And most of the time when it does escalate, the sergeants will swoop in with the appropriate punishment (which sometimes affects the whole section).

Moving on to unit life. I was posted to a unit to be a clerk. I have an underlying suspicion that the system that posts NSF from BMT to their units is based on distance. Most people I know get posted to camps nearest to their house. The system isn't perfect of course, but again, I count myself lucky to need less than an hour of travelling time every day. My camp isn't easily accessible, but it's much better than other camps which are located even more remotely at the eastern and western corners of the country.

The food served in this new camp was much better than in BMT, but it wasn't like I complained much about the food anyway. I wasn't willing to fork out my own money to spend on better-tasting food from the canteen, hence I can always be found at the cookhouse during lunch hours. There's no hard and fast rule for when to eat lunch in my new unit, but there's this notion that lunch has to be eaten with your colleagues, hence we usually head down around 1230 hours. To be frank, the official lunch hours would be an hour, but I've seen others being at the cookhouse when they start serving food (1130 hours) till they run out of food (usually 1300 hours). We get treated like adults, and if there's something that needs to be completed, the officers know the onus is on us to complete it promptly. They don't have enough time or brain capacity to micromanage our jobs anyway, as their plates are always full. Just take my old and new boss for example.

The book-in time for my unit is 0830 hours, though not strictly enforced. There are even shuttle buses that ferry personnel from specified pick-up points, which I feel is a luxury. Book-out timings vary from office to office. My office is quite strict, and we only get to leave at 1730 hours, the official time declared by the organization. There are of course exceptions to that from time to time. From what I've observed, the NSFs from other offices have varied timings for booking out, and most of the time they get to leave once they complete their work. This has been an issue for the longest time in my office, though not officially. It's not uncommon to hear someone lamenting this situation at least once a week, or when there's knowledge of others booking out earlier than us.

Another issue of contention would be our promotion dates. For my office, for the majority of the NSF, we usually get promoted later than the guidelines set by the organization. Whereas for other offices, their superiors would promote them based on the forecasted dates. Yes, there are certain criteria and expectations to meet even after being eligible for promotion, but based on the frequency and quantity of NSFs who get promoted in other offices (as compared to my own), one can't help but wonder if it's indeed laxer in other offices, or if the expectations of our superiors are that unattainable.

For the sake of fairness, I feel there should be a more concrete set of rubrics on how an NSF can be promoted instead of leaving it to just the judgment of the superiors. The NSF can be aware of the areas and goals he must achieve to attain a promotion fairly and equally and be more productive during work hours. I do acknowledge that this won't matter if the NSF isn't at all bothered by promotions, but this is likely to be only edge cases because together with an increase in rank, the allowance the NSF gets will increase as well. Who doesn’t want more money from the organization, right?

On that note, the same can be said about off days awarded by superiors for work well done. This system of reward and punishment (carrot and stick) isn't only prevalent in this organization, but because we're the army (and that comes with a certain connotation of 'rules' and 'strictness'), it does mean that at times our welfare isn't optimal and we're not fairly recognized for our hard work on events and our daily jobs. Case in point, when comparing the average number of off days an NSF from another office receives per month, our average number is far less. Then again, there are a multitude of factors that affect the quantity and frequency of off days awarded by our superiors. However, it's undeniable that there's a disparity in how off days are awarded in the unit, especially when one group of NSFs believes they're more productive and contributing more than the rest.

After completing 21 months in the unit, I feel that the grass will always be greener on the other side. If we want to compare our situation with others, we can always find fault with our current predicament. Of course, we need to have the full picture first before rushing into judgment (lamenting about the situation every week) or making a decision (jumping ship and transferring to another office). The best action is to raise it in dialogues with people who can effect change successfully, in hopes that we'd be heard.

Being in a predominantly male organization has been an eye-opening experience for me. As with every society, the issues of sexual objectification, racism, ageism, homophobia, and xenophobia are prevalent across social classes. But I feel that these are greatly amplified in a majority male organization, which is a huge shock to me. To see it openly demonstrated, by my friends, colleagues, and even superiors, with no fear of repercussions, makes me disgusted. Some may brush it off with statements such as “These are what real guy friends talk about”; “It's normal for guys to have such thoughts”; “We are just having fun in our youth,” but it's very appalling to me to see such scenarios in a workplace setting.

In my office, we make it a point to be frank with one another, even with our superiors. But that doesn't mean I want to know about how good your ‘date’ went or hear sexist and racial slurs (in any language or dialect) shouted in jest with other colleagues. Some may think I'm being overly sensitive about this stuff, even my friends who I've made in the office may disagree with me, but it's fundamentally wrong to believe that what goes on in the army stays in the army (or in other words, what is discussed with friends in the army stays in the army). Sure, you may be a completely different person when you step out of camp, but that doesn’t mean your character has changed a bit. However, I must iterate that not all guys I've met in the army are like this. There are a few genuine guys who have unshakable morals and ethics which I've observed through our interactions. But then again, how well do you really know someone?

The same can be said about following the rules in the army. The most obvious and logical rule drilled into us since BMT is no in-camp photos. The reasoning is simple: photos taken in camp become a liability if they land in the hands of foreign adversaries, posing a threat to national security. Some may argue that a photo of lunch from the cookhouse isn't a matter of national security, but the rule is in place as a 'catch-all' because inspecting every photo taken by every personnel isn't feasible. No doubt the ability to take photos, especially in the office, would improve workflow, making it easier for colleagues to be on the same page regarding an issue, as opposed to conversing through phone, email, or hard copies. But I'd go so far as to say it's one of the most broken rules by personnel thus far. The 9th core value in the army (unofficially) is "Don't get caught," and many have been exercising this. There are random phone checks conducted, but the incriminating photos have usually already been deleted. My main point is that if the status quo continues, I believe the reasoning behind implementing the rule should never be lost in translation, and all personnel should be aware of it.

My main task in the unit doesn't require a high level of IQ to complete. It's more hands-on than digital, and it's fairly straightforward. My secondary task is much more complex and involves many moving parts. It involves coordinating with others to fix dates for events and to execute the event itself. Looking back, only the initial few months in the unit were more comfortable than BMT itself, but then again with hindsight, I should have been learning more about my job itself rather than wasting my time watching my shows. There was a joke made once that I was on track to finishing the entire Netflix catalogue just because I was binging it on 2x speed every day. Life was really much simpler back then.

However, I had to step up eventually and try to lead a team on my own with help from other colleagues. It was a difficult transition, and I only had myself to blame. It was my first time managing a team (I'm more of a follower, not a leader) so I ran into problems with handling my team. I understand that my methods may not be palatable for everyone, but I've tried my best to distil the information (to keep it easy to understand) and keep my emotions in check (as far as possible). I sincerely hope that they are more cooperative with my successor and work together as a team more often.

To end off, summarizing National Service in a sentence, I would say the following: “It is a necessary evil to the country but seen as a chore to most boys turning of age, and I'm no exception; nonetheless, I'm satisfied that I've tried my best to make the best of it and forged a few friends along the way.”