Two National Service enlistees from different age groups come together to share their contrasting experiences for this “rite of passage” for Singaporean men
Written & Illustrated by Benjamin Chew | Photos Courtesy of Colin Lam & Bernard Marsh
Today, National Service (NS) shapes the identity of Singaporean sons and carves values into their character as soon as they come of age. I sat down with two men: 19-year-old Colin Lam and 35-year-old Bernard Marsh as they shared their NS experiences.
Colin, a signal trainer five months into NS, recalled that his officers were friendly albeit strict during training, and he did not face any difficulty interacting with peers and superiors.
Safety was not prioritised despite the strict training regimes in the past, and Colin feels fortunate that safety practices are implemented as he serves today. “Heatstroke was not a big deal last time,” Colin mentioned, “But now, we have to recite man-down drills- things to do if someone faints during training, like applying first aid.”
Colin is in the front row, second from the right.
Colin’s experience is a far cry compared to that of Bernard Marsh, a millennial ex-weapons in-charge officer turned full-time musician.
A lone ranger in his NS days, Bernard’s memories of his officers and batchmates were less positive. “They would be vulgar and shout in your ear continuously,” he recalled from the gruelling training. “Officially, the officers cannot hit you, but there are loopholes around it, such as an ‘accidental’ push or bump.”
When it comes to his Hokkien-speaking batchmates, Bernard felt ostracised. The only non-chinese in the platoon, he was unable to click with his batchmates due to a language barrier.
Drummer Bernard practicing for gigs.
Despite the different cultural practices in NS, one experience remains the same for both men during their training days: homesickness. They both felt not being able to see their loved ones on a daily basis was the most significant struggle that they shared, and the separation was hard to get used to.
Colin found it easier to communicate with his family since he had access to his smartphone for an hour in camp; things were harder for Bernard. He reminisced, “Technology was not advanced then, and my parents had to queue up for a call at a public payphone. We were given 20 minutes to make calls before lights out. I could only interact with my parents for two minutes daily.
Additionally, privileges are taken away when the recruits book in, and they must follow a strict diet and lights-out time. “NS taught me how to give up life's small temptations,” Colin shared.“Like fast food for dinner, or using your phone till late at night.”
However, Bernard learnt about curbing temptations another way. He recalled how recruits who smoked in his NS days received three cigarettes daily, though they could not smoke whenever they wanted to.
These days, Colin claims that the rule has reduced it to one stick a day, though the practice of informing their officers before being allowed to smoke still remains.
Ending off, Colin likened his experience to that of a modern rite of passage. “Every child has to leave the nest some day. For Singaporean boys, NS is a tradition that proves we’ve gained our independence, while training us to not fall for temptations easily.”