The Army days, Part 1 - Basics

I was driving home after work and passed through Military Headquarters in Pretoria when I saw the truck and gun carriage used with Nelson Mandela's funeral. I drove through the area of my old Unit and enjoyed reminiscing the old Army days. I thought back to my days as a young 'Private' in the SADF.

I grew up during a very hostile time in South Africa. A war was being fought and the threat of terrorism saw our schools at times surrounded by police officers and soldiers watching over us. Some of our teachers were called up to active duty during this time.
During the South African Border War, conscription was introduced whereby all white young men had to enlist for military service. Once you turned 16 years of age you received your first Identity Document and were assigned to a Military Unit. I can not for the life of me remember which unit I was assigned to, but in 1993 conscription was done away with. That was my last year of school and all my class mates were stoked at not having to enlist. I on the other hand envisioned myself as a professional soldier, so I applied for acceptance into the Armed Forces and received my 'call-up' to the Personnel Services School close to home. Personnell Services is responsible for the administration and financial oversight of the SA Army. This is where Arnold Vosloo acted in his first movie, Boetie gaan Border toe. (Little Brother goes to Border - according to Wikipedia's translation) That is my claim to fame, that I slept in the same barracks as Arnold Vosloo did.

Call-up orders were to gather at the Voortrekkerhoogte City Hall where all recruits were dispatched to their training units. This was February of 1994, 20 years ago. We were rounded up by a 6'7 monster of a man with the voice of a volcanic eruption and we soon realized that the road ahead was going to be an unpleasant one. He marched us across the road to our barracks where we were issued with kit and bedding and told to get settled in. We were excited as ours were the first intake of men of black, white and brown orientation. We quickly made friends and settled in nicely, though we found it extremely difficult later on to fit in with each other's cultures and traditions. Those were the early days of Democracy in South Africa, so we had to feel it out.

The first order of business was to be taught the Military disciplines of marching, parade-ground drills, guard duty as well as lectures on warfare, riflery and combat maneuvers. We were taught the different basic infantry weapons like the R4 assault rifle, Light Machine Gun (FN MAG) and the Multiple Grenade Launcher. These were still classroom activities up to this point. Physical training and discipline were areas of focus, which meant that we had regular inspections of our living quarters and our kit. Inspections mostly took place at 05:00, an hour before breakfast, giving our instructors a good 60 minutes to start the day with a thorough PT session. Then there were the surprise inspections that could come at any time, but were mostly conducted between 21:00 and 04:00. These were always failed and ended up in what is known in Military terms as 'corrective training', also known in civilian circles as 'severe punishment'. This was when irritable instructors got to take out their frustrations on us and it always followed the same pattern... running, crawling, puking. There were also the dreaded shower parades where our levels of hygiene could be monitored. For these we had to stand to attention, towel draped over the left shoulder and shower bag in the left hand, wearing nothing but the standard issue Army undies. Unfortunately our bathrooms were adjacent to the perimeter fence that was across the main road and in full public view.

Our next training phase was a method known as COIN Urban. As the war had ended and the focus moved to internal stability, the requirement of the Army changed and we had to be skilled likewise. This was right before the Democratic Elections of  '94, when everything in South Africa changed. More about this in Part 2.

Greetings.

Destroy the mind, destroy the body, but you can not destroy the heart!

I just read on Facebook of a neglected dog in Taiwan, so neglected and diseased that they could not even establish his breed.

He was taken in and nursed back to health. To everybody's amazement, he was not a Mastiff as first thought, but a very sweet and beautiful Rottweiler. His new owner named him Tiny and after he had made a full recovery he was entered into a dog show and won. The transformation is simply unbelievable.

You can read the full story here. This displays an incredible will to live and makes for a true heart warming story. We need more of these.