This Ain't No Reserve

So I've been away these past two weeks on my ICT, or In-Camp Training. Which basically means that I go back to the army and learn how to be a soldier all over again. Which basically means that my IQ drops by about half.

It was a great surprise running into some of my fellow medics on the first day; at least I knew I had company, and company I enjoyed. I did not, however, enjoy the rest of the day. Hell, I hated the entire two weeks I was there.

The first thing we did was get shipped off to medic school, where for the first class we took turns stabbing IV needles into each other's veins. There was plenty of blood spilt that day, and I still have the bruises on my arms to prove it.

But even that was fine, compared to the sheer boredom that permeated those first two days. In actual fact, everything could've been packed into a single day with time to spare. Instead, to make it seem as though they were doing work, the organizers had crafted (and I use that in the loosest sense of the word) a relaxed program that utilized over 50% of the time for canteen breaks.

I was so bored, I was going out of my mind. It's especially horrible, coming from an industry where I have to use my brain every single day, to have to shut it down completely or risk going insane. I swear, I felt like a heroin addict, on edge all the time, ready to crawl up the walls.

I'd heard tales of how relaxing reservist training would be, and how many people used it as a holiday from work. The irony was that even though I hated being in the office, I was actually craving to be back in my cubicle - anything except what I was doing. How sad is that? If I want to take a break and switch my brain off, I'll do it, but on my own grounds. Enforced stupidity is not my cup of tea.

Additionally, once we returned to our parent unit, the shit work began. Basically, not only did we have to source for our own medical equipment from the medical centres around, the Officer Commanding also expected us to help out when other people were moving their shit. All this on top of the services we were providing, which was to take care of anyone that got sick or injured. Sure, some people were jealous of the "preferential" treatment we appeared to be getting, but they didn't have to worry about the well-being of everyone else.

Contrary to my expectations, these two weeks turned out to be more demanding than even my NSF (enlistee) days. I used to sit in the air-conditioned comfort of the medical centre, taking care of the running of things, and now they wanted me to carry over 10 kg of stuff and walk for half an hour to a campsite, and actually live there for three days. I thought they were joking, but they were deadly serious. I mean, medically speaking, I shouldn't even be carrying all that junk. And after the wonderful half a year sleeping in my gorgeously comfortable bed, I spent many a sleepless night during those two weeks, which didn't do too much for my energy. I think I also pulled a tendon in my groin from all the carrying and walking. It still hurts now.

What gets me more is the fact that they're only paying me for 10 days, but the program ran for 12 days in all. It's not because I mind the additional two days - it's because they're not paying me for it. And my payroll department had the cheek to tell me they misplaced my claim form for make-up salary because I gave it to them too early in advance.

It wasn't all bad though. I got to make some new friends, among them some nice doctors - you never know when you'll need medical aid, and renew some old friendships. I just wish the doctors were more outspoken about how their medics should be treated. There was drama - someone got a nasty cut from falling glass that severed a tendon in his hand. I was given some time off to enjoy dinner with the parents on their anniversary. There was complaining about bad food. There was a visit to my old camp which I really enjoyed, especially meeting the old-timers there again after so long.

But there were also things that bugged me. Things like how inefficiently things were run, how much time was wasted on stupid shit, how nothing seemed to be communicated clearly. Things like officers being unhappy we left soon after the field camp to return our supplies - I didn't use your shit, so why should I help you with it when you didn't help with mine? Things like how many safety hazards there were in the campsite which no one noticed - chest-deep drains that were left uncovered (an officer fell into one of them at night, escaping a broken jaw because he was tall enough), loose glass everywhere, and so on.

The biggest thing I hated though, was how being in the army, even for that short two weeks, made me stupid. One of the other guys said, "Whenever I put the uniform on, I become tired, lazy and stupid." This is entirely true. I can work all day on set and still not be as tired as I was at noon in camp. My waking hours were spent fantasizing about lazing in bed and sleeping. When I tried to do work during the two week period, I ended up with writers' block big time and was only able to stare at an empty screen. I was finally only able to get over that only yesterday.

But even that, terrible as it is, isn't the worst thing about ICT. The absolute worst thing is looking around you, seeing all the costs that go towards this useless exercise, and realize that ICT really is the biggest waste of taxpayer funds ever. Basically, it's taking all your tax dollars and flushing them down the toilet bowl.

I think I'm getting incoherent, so I shall stop. Suffice to say, I'm glad it's over and normal life can resume.