Well, the past 3 days have been the most torturous days. 8km route march on thursday, which caused me to develop two humongous wobbly blisters on both feet that stretch across three toes each. Then the next day we had an SOC full run down. For the rest it was their second trial, but for me it was my first cos I missed the previous one cos of cramps. (I just realised how ungrammatical that was, but I'm really lazy to rephrase) Yeah so, stuffed two insoles into my boots and wore two pairs of socks and went through the bloody obstacle course. Time was 9:05, which is credible, but I think if I hadn't fallen off the swinging bridge and if there weren't blisters, should be able to do sub-9. Bloody hell. I fell off the SWINGING BRIDGE. Uh, the most amateurish thing and I goofed up. Embarrassing.

7-11th feb's my field camp and I'm soooo scared of the instructors stealing my rifle in the middle of the night. I'm gonna stuff it into my shirt and tie the rifle sling around my neck. Think this is the time when I'm grateful for the fact that my rifle's retaining pin is super tough to manoeuvre, so it won't be that easy for the instructors to dismantle my bolt carrier group. Yeah baby.

Other than that, I was very very touched by the gestures of one of my instructors. As in, such little things really mean a lot to me, and I was so surprised to find the leaflet on my bed after I returned from the toilet. The shin splint thing was informative, and the other leaflet really showed me that there are people out there who really care. In times when faith is very conspicuously hiding in the wings, such people thankfully prove to be a little bit of a redemption point.