gordonator ur bmt sounds like mine. only mine was better cos of no rain.
but i heard bmt really damn easy going now. even the 3SGs also eat snake relak
My bmt pc's field pack was very light too... quite demoralising as one of my platoon mate tried on the pc's field pack behind his back during one of the route march break. Ya lor, some "white horse" got transportation back to coy line after field camp
my pc dff le.. his 1 gt even sand bag inside.. wa damn heavy till his arm wan give way le
Just learnt this poem in English Literature lesson today.
It is about WWI.
Wilfred Owen
Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
* "Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori" means "it is sweet and decorous to die for one's country" in Latin
