The end has almost come with only FIVE days left, I just need to wait out the Christmas/Newyear holidays before I can start those last days.
Ending on the 7th of January 2011.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
It wasn't so bad...
Well, it's over, the last camp that is. It was not as bad as I was expecting, though not nearly as fun as I might've hoped.
It started with a LONG drive to Niinisalo, the very same place I did my basic training. The travel time was possibly the biggest low-light of the week. Without adequate heating the two stops, and meager packed lunches were not nearly enough to keep me warm, and mixed with the low ceiling and limited leg room, I was not a happy camper by the end of the trip.
Things picked up, or rather plateau'd once we got to the first camp site. We walked around, located our positions, walked around, found back up positions, walked around, looked at the other teams' positions. Then, as soon as it was dark enough we built our tent and went to sleep.
I don't really remember any specifics for the rest of our time there, and can't say I'm overly keen on pushing myself to recall.
After four nights it was almost over. I had dug my last foxhole, built my last tent, packed my last tent. My last march and equipment cleaning, however, was yet to come.
After another long, uncomfortable, and cold (the heating was actually broken (only-7)) drive we were back in Helsinki, and ready(?) to start the last march. With only 12km and the frozen urban-scape between me and indoor plumbing I was pretty eager to get going, but the closer I got the worse I felt, and by the time that we were crossing the barrier between civilian and military land I was aching, and a little feverish.
We waited in the cold. We stood, we listened, we had our bags, vests, and rifles checked for rogue ammunition, and one by one we were released.
I hurriedly ''packed'' my gear and made for the warmth and electric glow. I dumped everything, washed my hands, and lay in my bed...
It started with a LONG drive to Niinisalo, the very same place I did my basic training. The travel time was possibly the biggest low-light of the week. Without adequate heating the two stops, and meager packed lunches were not nearly enough to keep me warm, and mixed with the low ceiling and limited leg room, I was not a happy camper by the end of the trip.
Things picked up, or rather plateau'd once we got to the first camp site. We walked around, located our positions, walked around, found back up positions, walked around, looked at the other teams' positions. Then, as soon as it was dark enough we built our tent and went to sleep.
I don't really remember any specifics for the rest of our time there, and can't say I'm overly keen on pushing myself to recall.
After four nights it was almost over. I had dug my last foxhole, built my last tent, packed my last tent. My last march and equipment cleaning, however, was yet to come.
After another long, uncomfortable, and cold (the heating was actually broken (only-7)) drive we were back in Helsinki, and ready(?) to start the last march. With only 12km and the frozen urban-scape between me and indoor plumbing I was pretty eager to get going, but the closer I got the worse I felt, and by the time that we were crossing the barrier between civilian and military land I was aching, and a little feverish.
We waited in the cold. We stood, we listened, we had our bags, vests, and rifles checked for rogue ammunition, and one by one we were released.
I hurriedly ''packed'' my gear and made for the warmth and electric glow. I dumped everything, washed my hands, and lay in my bed...
...IT WAS GOOD!
Monday, December 6, 2010
In other news
Winter has arrived (a few weeks back actually) and the people aren't pleased.
I am though (just not during service time!).
Winter has come, quite early it seems, leaving me with no doubt of a white Christmas. So far Seasonal Affective Disorder has not taken hold of me, except during service time, though that might be because of a few other factors... I have been walking, sledding, and building snow people every chance I get. The excitement of finding it's snowing still hasn't worn off either, and is usually followed by the proclamation, 'it's snowing'.
Note: regressing to childlike state of mind while surounded by snow will keep you so warm you won't realise that it's -20 until you colapse from exaustion. This is not necessarily a suggestion.
An example of the above behavior..
I am though (just not during service time!).
Winter has come, quite early it seems, leaving me with no doubt of a white Christmas. So far Seasonal Affective Disorder has not taken hold of me, except during service time, though that might be because of a few other factors... I have been walking, sledding, and building snow people every chance I get. The excitement of finding it's snowing still hasn't worn off either, and is usually followed by the proclamation, 'it's snowing'.
Note: regressing to childlike state of mind while surounded by snow will keep you so warm you won't realise that it's -20 until you colapse from exaustion. This is not necessarily a suggestion.
An example of the above behavior..
Not long now
Time is quickly running out, soon the military adventures will end and all I will have are memories.
Not soon enough, however.
Starting in the summer months with clement weather and a more positive attitude it seems as though things have been going down hill recently. Enjoyment, or at least the ability to willfully ignor the less than agreeable circumstances has been ebbing. As time passes and the weather gets colder the end of this six month stint in the Defence Forces cannot hurry along quick enough.
But, before the end can pass, there is still about four weeks and one five day war simulation to traverse.
Judging from my experience in the last three camps It will not be a cake walk. All three camps have taken place in below 0 temperatures with a bonus of either rain, snow, or both. The most recently conquered camp took place in a consistant 20-30cm of light fluffy snow, which I have since learned is like walking on dry sand. At first it is deceptively easy to trudge through it, it weighs next to nothing and weilds to a snow boot easilly. But try keep pace up a shallow slope, or a grainite hill and the constant slipping makes you feel as though you are moving two steps forward one step back. Mixed with the already heavy equipment, the inability for our 'snow suit' to resist waster, GIANT winter gumboots, and the snow getting inside your rifle melting, refreezing and jamming the machinery everytime you have to dive onto the ground and you will understand that the snow is not your friend.
Not soon enough, however.
Starting in the summer months with clement weather and a more positive attitude it seems as though things have been going down hill recently. Enjoyment, or at least the ability to willfully ignor the less than agreeable circumstances has been ebbing. As time passes and the weather gets colder the end of this six month stint in the Defence Forces cannot hurry along quick enough.
But, before the end can pass, there is still about four weeks and one five day war simulation to traverse.
Judging from my experience in the last three camps It will not be a cake walk. All three camps have taken place in below 0 temperatures with a bonus of either rain, snow, or both. The most recently conquered camp took place in a consistant 20-30cm of light fluffy snow, which I have since learned is like walking on dry sand. At first it is deceptively easy to trudge through it, it weighs next to nothing and weilds to a snow boot easilly. But try keep pace up a shallow slope, or a grainite hill and the constant slipping makes you feel as though you are moving two steps forward one step back. Mixed with the already heavy equipment, the inability for our 'snow suit' to resist waster, GIANT winter gumboots, and the snow getting inside your rifle melting, refreezing and jamming the machinery everytime you have to dive onto the ground and you will understand that the snow is not your friend.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
We go marching on and on, hoorah!
Instead of a weekend we got a march.
Carrying a 20kg bag of plaster has never been a particular strain, however, I have never before ventured to walk, sometimes run, for 10+ km with a bag of plaster. Esentially that is what the march was, though I think 30-5 kgs would be a more accurate guess as to the weight of the combined equipment.
It started much the same way that the camp did, pulling on complete combat equipment before reporting outside to make sure our ballistics vest is fitted with front and rear bullet proof plates. Then on to the basement to collect equipment, and then take it up to be be checked and counted.
Our group has been picked to take four landmines and two camoflage sheets. We pack the equipment into the amphibious Armoured Personal Carriers, then we are off. We are dropped off somwhere and then have to get back to the garrison.
It didn't take long before my back was aching. My spine felt very compressed and my XL ballistics vest was all too apparently too big for me. We marched and marched, with a 5 or 10 break every now and then.
Relief finally came in the form of a familiar landmark, and while I knew how far we still had to walk, knowing your way is enough to shine some light on the end.
After making it bake to base we had about 5 minutes to get changed for lunch, which turned out to be dinner as well.
Altogether a rather lousy weekend!
Carrying a 20kg bag of plaster has never been a particular strain, however, I have never before ventured to walk, sometimes run, for 10+ km with a bag of plaster. Esentially that is what the march was, though I think 30-5 kgs would be a more accurate guess as to the weight of the combined equipment.
It started much the same way that the camp did, pulling on complete combat equipment before reporting outside to make sure our ballistics vest is fitted with front and rear bullet proof plates. Then on to the basement to collect equipment, and then take it up to be be checked and counted.
Our group has been picked to take four landmines and two camoflage sheets. We pack the equipment into the amphibious Armoured Personal Carriers, then we are off. We are dropped off somwhere and then have to get back to the garrison.
It didn't take long before my back was aching. My spine felt very compressed and my XL ballistics vest was all too apparently too big for me. We marched and marched, with a 5 or 10 break every now and then.
Relief finally came in the form of a familiar landmark, and while I knew how far we still had to walk, knowing your way is enough to shine some light on the end.
After making it bake to base we had about 5 minutes to get changed for lunch, which turned out to be dinner as well.
Altogether a rather lousy weekend!
The longest four days
Filling our largest pack with almost the entire contents of our locker, and wearing just about everything else we marched outside into a constant drizzle, a spitting rain which would last through the day and into tomorrow. We stood outside in the rain for a while smearing camo paint on our faces, with instructions to cover all visable skin. Then, leaving our packs outside to soak up the weather we were hearded into the basemen level of our dormatory building to collect and lug camping equipment back outside to the transport trucks. After loading everything into the trucks it was time for us to collect a meager packed lunch and cram into the APCs.
We spent most of the day moving equipment around the forrest in a bid to find a good vantage point to defend from. It seemed kind of stupid (read: stupid) to constantly change locations, things should be considered more so an educated decission is made without the need for great physical exersion. Needless to say I understand this is defence force training, and all the nonsence is for the sake of teaching discipline or somthing. Still, it is difficult to do somthing when another way makes more sense.
After finally finding our position, and with twilight quickly turning to night we spent a few hours digging fox holes. They must be knee deep. Every time I push my spade into the ground I hit a rock. I was not having fun.
At this point in the day I was tired, frustrated and just wanted to be warm.
We hauled the euipment to the campsite our leader had found us and with as little cooperation a seemingly possible attempted to errect the tent in complete darkness. I was not having fun.
The tent constructed we left to fetch our packs from the truck. With no moonlight and a muddy, often flooded road to contend with I'm suprised I managed not falling, gotta catch a break somewhere I guess.
A sleepless night of fire guarding and foxhole lookout ended with a 6 oclock wake up, pack up, and return to the trucks for repacking, regrouping, breakfast (rice porridge can be the best thing about a day), and changing locations.
As with all the small joys to be had while camping; food, rest, personal time, ways are found to impact on them to such an extent that it would be better you hadn't had them at all. Usually this is achieved by reducing the time you have to enjoy them. 3 minutes is not enough time to finish most of your breakfast, clean and pack your eating utensils and put all your gear back on. Fun was a concept, far far from reach.
The second day progressed slowly, much in the way of the first day, though perhaps easier.
Same lugging of equipment (though not as far, or as much), same shifting of positions (not so many times), same digging of foxholes (though they were already mostly made by previous training camps). The real show that things were on an up-swing was the building of the tent in broad daylight, things hit a notch when we were told to move the almost completed tent 50 metres to acomodate secondary defence positions, then another notch when we were told that our team would be sleeping in another tent, because, well I don't really know.
After filling the day with repeated exercises and uninteligible lectures the night was finally falling in again. I was told my partner and I were first up to sit in the freezing foxholes and give the silent alert if there were signs of movement or danger. We waited in silence, minutes passed slowly and became hours, no sign of movement. Then the crack of gunfire and my partner ran off to base to make the slent alarm. I waited for my team, no one came. I finally learned from another team that it was over and that it was safe to remove hearing protection. I stalked off to my camp wondering what happend, what possible reason was there for me to be waiting by myself in the cold for so long. Turns out my partner got lost on the way back to the camp.
Another sleepless night was made slightly better by the understanding that we would not be moving the next day. The next day would also bring free time and the mobile soldiers-home van, the idea of coffee and doughnuts is a powerful restorative.
The third day was once again more of the same, and once more easier than the day before. After lunch things when down hill, though the incline wasn't too steep. We had to do formation marching through the wilderness for most of the afternoon. Then it was over, free time had begun. I changed all my clothes, organised my equipment, then it was time for dinner, and then coffee and doughnuts. A lot of positivity can come from such small things and the leaders would do well to keep that in mind.
On the last day we had a 5am wakeup, and once again packed everthing up and carried it to the trucks. We were not leaving yet however, we had a war game first. It might sound like fun to go sneaking around, shooting wooden bullets, and it is, but not for long. Soon it becomes routine, then it becomes a chore. Nobody likes chores. Still, when the war games were done, ifwe still had rounds left we were given permission to empty our magazines. Fully automatic.
We spent most of the day moving equipment around the forrest in a bid to find a good vantage point to defend from. It seemed kind of stupid (read: stupid) to constantly change locations, things should be considered more so an educated decission is made without the need for great physical exersion. Needless to say I understand this is defence force training, and all the nonsence is for the sake of teaching discipline or somthing. Still, it is difficult to do somthing when another way makes more sense.
After finally finding our position, and with twilight quickly turning to night we spent a few hours digging fox holes. They must be knee deep. Every time I push my spade into the ground I hit a rock. I was not having fun.
At this point in the day I was tired, frustrated and just wanted to be warm.
We hauled the euipment to the campsite our leader had found us and with as little cooperation a seemingly possible attempted to errect the tent in complete darkness. I was not having fun.
The tent constructed we left to fetch our packs from the truck. With no moonlight and a muddy, often flooded road to contend with I'm suprised I managed not falling, gotta catch a break somewhere I guess.
A sleepless night of fire guarding and foxhole lookout ended with a 6 oclock wake up, pack up, and return to the trucks for repacking, regrouping, breakfast (rice porridge can be the best thing about a day), and changing locations.
As with all the small joys to be had while camping; food, rest, personal time, ways are found to impact on them to such an extent that it would be better you hadn't had them at all. Usually this is achieved by reducing the time you have to enjoy them. 3 minutes is not enough time to finish most of your breakfast, clean and pack your eating utensils and put all your gear back on. Fun was a concept, far far from reach.
The second day progressed slowly, much in the way of the first day, though perhaps easier.
Same lugging of equipment (though not as far, or as much), same shifting of positions (not so many times), same digging of foxholes (though they were already mostly made by previous training camps). The real show that things were on an up-swing was the building of the tent in broad daylight, things hit a notch when we were told to move the almost completed tent 50 metres to acomodate secondary defence positions, then another notch when we were told that our team would be sleeping in another tent, because, well I don't really know.
After filling the day with repeated exercises and uninteligible lectures the night was finally falling in again. I was told my partner and I were first up to sit in the freezing foxholes and give the silent alert if there were signs of movement or danger. We waited in silence, minutes passed slowly and became hours, no sign of movement. Then the crack of gunfire and my partner ran off to base to make the slent alarm. I waited for my team, no one came. I finally learned from another team that it was over and that it was safe to remove hearing protection. I stalked off to my camp wondering what happend, what possible reason was there for me to be waiting by myself in the cold for so long. Turns out my partner got lost on the way back to the camp.
Another sleepless night was made slightly better by the understanding that we would not be moving the next day. The next day would also bring free time and the mobile soldiers-home van, the idea of coffee and doughnuts is a powerful restorative.
The third day was once again more of the same, and once more easier than the day before. After lunch things when down hill, though the incline wasn't too steep. We had to do formation marching through the wilderness for most of the afternoon. Then it was over, free time had begun. I changed all my clothes, organised my equipment, then it was time for dinner, and then coffee and doughnuts. A lot of positivity can come from such small things and the leaders would do well to keep that in mind.
On the last day we had a 5am wakeup, and once again packed everthing up and carried it to the trucks. We were not leaving yet however, we had a war game first. It might sound like fun to go sneaking around, shooting wooden bullets, and it is, but not for long. Soon it becomes routine, then it becomes a chore. Nobody likes chores. Still, when the war games were done, ifwe still had rounds left we were given permission to empty our magazines. Fully automatic.
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