Ode to the Quarry

Two huge eagles are shrieking as they circle across my sky, bathed in the dying orange light of Sunday evening. Their echoing cries are the muezzin’s call to prayer, they are the blowing whistles of the evening flag lowering in the battalion square. In reply, the thousands of trees and vegetation of every kind, decked like a panorama across the massive quarry sway in the gentle breeze that blows southwards. Cerulean blue is the waters of the centre reservoir, black is the mouth of an abandoned cave at the north side.

I sit on the edge of granite outcrop, inhaling the sheer beauty that surrounds me. No matter how many times I’ve sneaked up here, the beauty is always breathtaking. One easily forgets that this is still Singapore.

Corporal G and Private J stand closely by my side; they too are trying to register the beauty that engulfs them. They’re probably glad they’d agreed to accompany me for my last joyride (illegal as usual and punishable with a term in the detention barracks). No other person in camp, sane or not, would bring them where I’ve brought them, and in the same method.

Today is my last day wearing this uniform. And this is the last time I’ll be seeing this.

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I’ve spent 2 years in the most beautiful army base in Singapore. It’s a pity that few of the hundreds that pass through these gates catch no more than just a passing glimpse of the raw beauty hidden behind chain-linked fences and thick vegetation. Life has gone on here for the longest time with little interaction with the quiet, unassuming allure of the great outdoors in the backyard. Some personnel have never even seen it, nor even thought it to exist. Most don’t care.

I was one of the lucky few (and hopefully not the last) with enough balls (and of a rank high enough to warrant some measure of autonomy) to explore this place more than rules or sensible thoughts would allow.

“Explore” however is quite an understatement. Read: rock-climbing, skipping-pebbles, spelunking through gated caves, trekking, hiking, trespassing, trespassing with a vehicle without a license, bashing a new road through lalang, racing, crashing up vehicles, off-roading, dirt-roading, green-laning, cross-countrying, tracing longkangs, and climbing trees, all while mostly high on whisky.

People don’t miss NS, I don’t think I will as well. But this beauty, I will miss.



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