Lessons from the Forest - Part 2

Boom. Let's begin:

1. Bradleys are not subtle. Neither are they stealthy. You can hear the things from kilometres away. The droning sound actually reminds me of bees. Hundreds of bees converging on your position. Needless to say, we got ample time to prepare for an American attack simply because we heard them coming from kilometres away.
2. Digging in is dirty work. Don't throw spadefuls of sandy soil on or near your rifle. Getting said rifle clean with only a toothbrush and very little oil is almost impossible.
3. MG3 machine guns don't work. Or at least ours doesn't, ours here being the one our squad was issued. I was the machine gunner's aide and, essentially, being his aide meant I did most of the shooting, while the machine gunner swore at the MG3, trying to make the thing fire off a burst.
4. Estonia doesn't sell any black tea worthy of my thermos. However, due to incredibly cold weather I am forced to taint my thermos with fifth rate "black tea", simply in order to have something hot to drink. Honestly, the tea isn't even worth the water it's made with
5. The above also goes for the powdered milk. I mean, yes, powdered milk has nothing on real milk, but even when desperate for something creamy to put in "tea", it's still not worth the bother.
6. And cocoa.
7. Plastic sporks are amazing. Lighter than tourist sets (metal spoon, fork and blunt knife) and with better knives. Right up until they break. Then you'll wish you brought the tourist set along.
8. Feed soldiers nothing but one-time food rations and you'll have deserters in two weeks. 24h rations are advised.
9. The cafeteria is a 5-star restaurant, even when they deliver.
10. Always have a secret food horde that even you don't know of. It raises morale like nobody's business when it's finally found.
11. You can never have too many pockets. What you CAN have, however, are too full pockets.
12. If your feet get sore in the first 8km of your 45km trek, you're one sorry soldier. It's going to be a s**tty trek. Pray you don't get hedgehogs.
13. If you get hedgehogs on the first 10km of your 45km trek.... Heh.
14. If after both points above you end up in an American ambush, you better hope they're using live rounds. If you're not so lucky...... I think you get the picture. Hopefully you don't get another ambush. If you get another ambush 5km away, the world dislikes you.
15. Americans are immortal. Not even 6 Carl Gustaf High-Explosive rounds can kill a Bradley at point-blank range. And a 100 round belt of MG3 rounds will not kill your average Bradley gunner either, not even when you add a clip some 5.56mm rounds and aim for the head.
16. Americans are blind. Seriously! 5m further and you, Sir from Texas, would have fallen right on top of me! Can't you see me standing here shooting at you?! How about the MG3 right here to my left? No? OK, what about the guy, 3m tall, swearing like mad at the afore-mentioned MG3? No? OK.
17. American night-vision is OP. I died twice, as the Americans tiptoed past my position in the darkest of night and shot from behind.
18. Mornings are made by ice demons. Nights too. And days.

Douches

Conscripts in the EDF come from all walks of Estonian life. It's , to quote my lieutenant, "A very accurate cross section of the Estonian society."
From what I've understood, most people complain that their served time was a total waste and absolutely horrible, mostly because their supervising officers were ass-holes, or the people serving time with them were annoying to the extreme. I'm not sure how much of this is simply Estonians being hateful Estonians (and they REALLY know how to be hateful, no doubt about that) as I can't say that my time has been annoying; on the contrary, the crazy fools I serve time with make sure there is no dull moment. Death by laughter is more probable right now than and shell, shrapnel or bullet, and all insults are given and taken with enough humour to make it feel more like a fluffy pillow smacking your face than a sucker-punch to the gonads.

Of course, this is a rant post! Haven't heard of one? Perhaps you should have a look at posts from one of my other blogs. "Thoughts of a Slightly Disturbed Gentleman" should do the trick. What? Doesn't feel like a rant post? Wait for it....

Growing up in Kenya has developed some reflexes that come in handy at times. The one that currently seems most appropriate and necessary is the "Turn off the bloody TAP!!!" reflex. It is unbelievably unnerving how much water Estonians waste during their morning ablutions. Take the simple act of brushing your teeth and then shaving off the stubble trying to conquer your face. An act that takes about 10 minutes, depending on how much of a hurry you are in (or aren't..... up to you). Now, a water-loving nut can boast that they succeeded in doing it with just a glass of water. I'm no such nut. I let the water flow, but only as long as my hand is beneath the tap (i.e. I'm using the water). Some (and I don't mean one or two) don't see the need to do so, leaving the tap running on full pressure as they brush their teeth and shave, wasting around 10 times more water than they use. On confronting one, in the early days of my basic training, one such douche replied, "But it's not me paying for the water," leaving the "...so what do I care?" part to my imagination. Another would say, "What, you expect me to close the tap when I'm not using the water?!" [A quick interruption here: Estonian taps, unlike the common taps found in Kenya work with a very easy to use lever that you pull up, and water flows. Push the lever down and the water stops flowing. To turn off the flow of water takes about as much pressure and energy as turning off the lights or pressing a button on your keyboard] And while you might see me as being weird, trying to conserve water in a country where water isn't a problem, I might rebut with the same old, "Water shortages are a global problem," or, "It's in the principle of it." I could also say that these are the same douchebags who complain of low water pressure every morning, leaving me thinking, "Well, if every third soldier here leaves the tap on while they shave, then I'm not surprised we have low water pressure, hell I'm surprised the entire town doesn't complain of pressure drops every morning and evening!" But, hey. Who am I kidding? It's Estonia!I'm practically the only one who sees this as a douche move. How about what other Estonians think about douchebags?

I share a room with a person even the Estonians feel is a real douche. So this guy is lazy and complains every time he is given an assignment, saying that he is the only one doing any work here and that everyone else keeps picking on him. Of course, his portfolio is very impressive, when it comes to achievements. Here are a few: losing practically every piece of equipment he is issued, left his phone on a bench at the railway station (said it was stolen), lost his expensive earphones (stolen, again), lost elements of his uniform, including two pairs of gloves and a jacket (essential in the winter, nobody has any idea how he succeeded), slacks off on every assignment (leaving the rest of us to deal with the problem), arrives late EVERYWHERE, the list is practically endless. All the while he sits with his thumbs and nose in his brand new phone and innocently complains that we pick on him, whenever anyone feels it necessary to pull him out of the phone and into some work. Most enjoyable is his carefree attitude and the fact that he makes it perfectly clear to all that he has no interest in being here. But that's just everyone else's opinion. I'm sure he feels misunderstood and is actually innocent of all charge.
There are others closely following the previous gentleman's methods. It seems that despite my optimistic view of my comrades, even I can't ignore some actual douches.

Now I feel like a complete fool and will stop this post right here. (What can I say? I forgot how to rant! :( )

Winter Has Come

Some may think Winter is still coming, but screw them. The moment you wake up in the morning to see that there are no more dew drops on the ground and instead everything onto which dew usually settles is covered in a thin film of white, you know Winter is no longer just coming but actually just round the corner. And if the day after that, you have a lovely morning, where every single surface is covered in a thin sheet of ice, that's Autumn playing a final prank before the snowfall that makes it final: Winter is here, so deal with it! :P
That's what we got last week, Friday. Needless to say, marching on slippery ice is an experience all unto itself. Oh, and while doing a perimeter jog, I slipped and fell and slid about one meter further, on my stomach. Just thought I'd mention it.

And as for today, even with double socks and double gloves, it still felt as though my fingers and toes were about to fall off. Oh, and our silly fluffy hats that make us all look like Russians don't hold any heat and leave half the head uncovered. At least the jackets work, though I wouldn't be surprised if they worked on the principle of: Work the muscles, generate heat. They are almost annoyingly heavy.
But I guess I'll just chill out and leave this silly post as it is. Enjoy.

Edit: I wouldn't be surprised if we get ear infections from all the cold air blowing into them.

A Breath of Fresh Air

When I first came to Estonia, I was partially surprised by the number of smokers in such a small and beautiful country. Having to spend most of my time outside holding my breath was a feat deserving of a medal, I used to think.
It is nothing compared to the ammount of smoking that takes place in the army. Every building has a smoking area not further than 10 m from the main door and the smoking areas are large enough to comfortably seat 20 and that still leaves plenty of standing room.
During our basic training, smokers were given "smoking time" after every meal and they could buy more smoking times for an obscene number of push-ups. During the first part of our officer training, this was foregone in favour of just going for a smoke whenever you have a free moment. And now, during our specialist training (more on what it entails in another post) we have 10 smoking time practically every half hour, as it seems our instructors just can't do without a puff of filtered fresh air twice an hour.

Lessons from the Forest - Part 1

We had the lovely fortune of going to the forest twice in the span of three weeks. Here are the lessons learned from the first forest camp.
First, a quick overview of what happened: we set up a patrol camp base and went out on assignments, like reconnaissance, observation posts, ambushes and the like. Keeping in mind that all was done as stealthily as possible, since our opposition was the American Cavalry division (I'm not sure which one. The one currently in Estonia. That's the one), equipped with Humvees (from now on, HV-s), Bradleys, Strikers and whatever doohickeys they have stuffed into those vehicles (I know of thermo cameras and 30mm automatic cannons, neither of which is nice to have used against you).

Boom. Numbers. Because I felt like it.

1. Never expect to make it in time. We were meant to start at 10.00, we left 5 minutes later. We were meant to put up an observation post at 13.00. We put it up 3-4 hours later because our platoon lieutenant couldn't find us a suitable camp site fast enough and travel.... ahem.... trekking in full gear, through dense forest in order to bypass any patrolling HVs or Brads passing by is bloody time consuming. :P
2. Our guests stand out like sore thumbs. This Cav. Division just came from the desert, we get it. But still: Estonia is a woodland country. Woodland camo is necessary. Having Brads and HVs in desert yellow in the middle of a green-brown forest is not stealthy at all. :P
   And their movement on foot isn't stealthy either. Even the simplest of Estonian conscripts knows that in a fire-fight you take cover, not stand around in your desert camo in a clearing in the woods. A lower target is harder to see and once detected, just as hard to hit, especially when under effective fire. This brings us to the next lesson:
3. Americans are bulletproof, as our mock battles have proven. They stand in full view and no matter how many blanks I shoot in their direction, they don't get the hint that they've been killed. Our EDF conscripts, however, have suffered many casualties, determined by our judges (who are strict, if not particularly fair), under American blank fire.
4. Bradleys are loud. Seriously, get a muffler or something. You can hear them from 3 km away. :P
5. Americans are blind. It seems the fact that they fight upright means that they expect their opponents to be standing as well. It is incredible how close the Americans have come to us without noticing us. And there is nothing as satisfying as seeing the surprise on a Texan's face as a young fir tree, not more than 10m away opens fire with a burst of blanks. "Noisy Ninjas", the Americans have come to call us.
6. Americans move flipping fast. Our squad had a go at trying to slow down an American advance, in order to allow our platoon to evac. The Americans bulldosed us. Their advance was so insanely fast our entire squad was obliterated in no more than 5 minutes. Only our squad commander survived and that only because he legged it the first chance he got. So, yeah. I died. Andwe only killed 2 Yanks in that tactical withdrawal. At least the platoon evaquated. Though they left a lot of stuff behind.

This post is a condensed version of a larger one, describing our first forest camp in more detail. If I can gather enough time and can actually bother to finish the post (it is quite long and very in-depth), I might just publish it. Reader comments and pokes might also help.

GAS! GAS! GAS!

Tonight is going to be hard.
The café served us with such an incredible and memorable menu that I don't think we will be forgetting soon. I even forewent my planned posts in order to write this one.
Today's menu:
Breakfast - Some uninteresting porridge and salami-pickle sandwiches.
Lunch - Pea soup and blood pudding with jam, boiled potatoes and sauerkraut (Estonian festive delicacies).
Dinner - Rice with meat and bean sauce.

What's the problem with these? Oh, well.... Pea soup gives you gas (the nasty kind), sauerkraut even more so and the beans make the topping on the stinky cake. Our chambers just turned into gas chambers.
Crap. I haven't even written my will yet. :P

Dead.

I'm done.
Can't walk.
Can't use my back.
My shoulders hate me.
My legs are organizing a mutiny.
My back is on strike.
I might as well be a redhead, because I have no soles left.

We had our sergeant trek yesterday. 40km in 13 hours, full gear.
As I will be an invalid for the next couple of days, I'll post a bunch, as I am not capable of moving for at least 3 days.

Feed me.

Blogging on the Throne

The barracks are built with some seriously concentrated stuff, some concrete, a bunch of steal slabs, and double glazed windows. Not a bad idea, when you think about it. Nice, sturdy, warm and fairly comfortable living quarters. Except for the little thing that every Estonian considers to be a right of life. It seems that the building materials that were used don't agree with my mobile internet protocols, because as soon as someone shuts a window, I have no internet. I DO, however, have a free run on calling and texting (I think).
The solution to the problem: Take a long dump, for the John has the best internet in town. So, instead of simply making a ruling on the Porcelain Throne, make it a Smart ruling. :)

Naked Weenies

High on the list of annoying circumstances are drill assignments. One of the more time consuming and stressing of which is the infamous "Defense Positions" drill, where our dear platoon commander appears on the corridor and chooses to either shout at the top of his lungs, or whisper to a passer-by: "DEFENSE POSITIONS!!!" He then stands back and watches the comedy unfold, as everyone who heard that doubles the command. Thus we have a chain reaction of everyone snaps up and charges to their locker, shouting "DEFENSE POSITIONS!!!!!" After quick scramble around and a panicked jump into combat gear, we charge through the weapons room, grabbing out weapons and collapse, panting, to our defensive position somewhere on the corridor, making sure that whichever sorry soul to step foot on our corridor, or bedroom has a full view of at least three rifle barrels.
Such a drill can happen at any time, irrespective of what is going on. Only 4 days ago, we got treated to full moons and weenies on the corridor, as some people were forced to cut their showers and sauna sessions short for the lovely drill.
Now we all wait in frantic worry of getting it at night. Sweet dreams!

Keeping Up

We just got out and went to the cinema!
While waiting for the movie to begin, I had a look at my blog stats. Now, this isn't the first time I've taken a shit at blogging, but so far this blog has made it much farther in a much shorter time than my other blogs, the content of which was simply me ranting about life and stuff.
Now, it's not a bad feeling, comparing myself to myself and seeing signs of improvement, but I have absolutely no idea about who my audience actually is (aside from friends and family).

Note: This post is about two weeks old. Blogger didn't feel like uploading it.

Tech Received

Our American guests shipped over their tech, so now our technopark has a bunch of desert camo humvees and armoured vehicles.
But, no. That's not what I wanted to blog about.
The IT department has finally given us quarter and allowed draftees to use their personal computers. With any luck, I might finally get the chance to do some school-work and probably write more intelligent blog posts. Maybe. You never know. :D

Tala (Est. for Stick or Staff)

There is one major factor that everyone in the EDF takes into account. One thing that always looms, motivating, persuading, regulating, correcting and overseeing. It is always present, in the shadows, behind the walls, and in some occasions right in your face.
The Great Tala is always there. A symbol of authority. A symbol of correction. A symbol of incredible annoyance.
The Great Tala takes on many forms. Sometimes in a very ambitious Private. A strict and stiff superior. A disciplinary measure. The Boss. Or, as the most powerful and effective form: a psychological form in every soldier's head.

Always be on the lookout, for The Great Tala never rests. Never sleeps ans is always there.

Chilled Out

As the temperature outside steadily falls and I reminisce, I can't help but notice that our lives in the Officer Course is much more relaxed. We have a really cool Drill Sargeant, an easygoing Lieutenant and a boring Marshal.
As for the weather....... It is unbe-freaking-lievable, how cold September can get. Yesterday we were dressed pretty warmly, yet we froze out in the open fields as we attended a med lesson. And this morning I actually saw ice on the ground. I hate to think what Winter has in store for us.
Winter is coming. :P

Officer Course - Day 1

I've been here 24 hours and I'm ALREADY SLEEPY! Unbelievable! We've had a fairly easy day, with nothing too hard and I simply am unable to understand how or why I can be this tired! :P

Vacation

Basic training is over. 11 weeks of annoying sarges are done. We did it! And we have a badge and a week long vacation to prove it.
Surprising, how 5 workdays can feel like heaven, living with the significant other and just letting loose. A nice time to just relax. Loving it!

We went to the woods, collected a bunch of different mushrooms and had feasts, went bike riding for hours and played boardgames. Lovely. It ended a little too soon. :P

And now we have the officer course. Funfunfun.

Internietto

For the past three days my internet has been inter-niet, meaning I haven't been able to upload blog posts. I will now endeavor to fix that problem.

Time Well Spent

Note: I just noticed this draft. Not sure why it's been a draft this long. Out dated info, but some might want to know.

The last week of Basic Training was the most difficult of all. It was filled with long hours of wearing off our backsides on our stools, racking our brains trying to figure out the right words for the crossword puzzle or the right numbers for the Sudoku puzzle in front of us. Yes, it was busy as hell. Noses were picked and balls scratched and all in all, our time this past week was well spent.

Our Stroll

Our 10 weeks of Basic Training are almost up (FINAL STRETCH!) and we just got kicked out and sent on the trek of our miserable (yet sometimes funny) lives. 55km in full gear. That stuff weighs and for a little squirt like myself, it can weigh a considerable percentage of my body weight (50% on easy days and 80%+ when stool hits fans).
Thankfully, the past two days were "easy". We were driven to some random corner of the forest, given a map, a compass and a medpack, and given coordinates to the next point. There we were to get the coordinates to the next (and the next, and so on) as well as a puzzle to solve (I might share the puzzles we got over the course of our trek, if you ask nicely).
ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! AND THEY'RE OFF! SQUAD ONE TAKES THE LEAD, BUT SQUAT 4 IS HOT ON THEIR HEELS! OH, WHAT'S THIS? SQUAD 10 JUST WIZZED BY! WHAT SPEED! SQUAD 8 CUT A CORNER, BUT LOOKS LIKE THE JUDGES ARE GOING TO LET IT SLIDE.
No, actually it wasn't as packed as a horse race. The squads were let loose 15m after the previous, so as to allow for breathing room. We started in high spirits, shouting out our excitement and singing (or strangling cats.... It depends on how you want to look at it), not much of a care in the world. But as the kilometers and hours passed, people got tired and sweaty, and when people are tired and sweaty, all sorts of stuff happens. The guy with the map loses the squad, for example... Porcupines and hedgehogs magically climb up your leg and settle in the crotch area, making it difficult to walk... Backs issue complaints and shoulders plan mutinies.... And when finally, finally, you get to the last point of the day, at around midnight, hoping to catch some shut-eye and nurse the injuries of the day (shredded foot soles [not simply sore, no, silly] and dead backs) it's almost too good to be true when the captain says, "You will have to wake yourselves up in time, we're not going to do it for you." Ooh, mother of ..... We can sleep as long as we like? That's it. Wake up is at 7! Only to have an annoying Sargeant bless us with a rude awakening at a quarter to six. Lovely. Feet are shredded, shoulders waging wars, backs on strike and spirits are about as low as they will ever get. Multiple kilometers and hours later, at the last point, with precious little water left to spare, we get what we want in the wrong form: enough water to swim through, but instead of drinking it, we have to trudge throught it and the mud it is mixed with while under fire, grenades exploding left, right and even under my foot. Oh, and did I mention the crazy lieutenant trying to drown me? No? Oh. Hmm....
After 21 hours of steady trud... Ahem. TREKING, we got back to the comforts of the dorms. Never have I loved the starchy sheets of my metal post bed as much.

Swimming EDF Style

We've been asking for a chance to go for a dip in a large water body (larger than the puddles we splash around in, at least. :P ) ever since we got here, two months ago. And every time the answer has been indefinite. Well, finally we had our chance yesterday (Sunday, 31 August). The temperature outside was a little over 10 degrees and the water was not much warmer.
We were yiven a course in water safety and how to rescue (or not rescue) a drowning body. I had to swim in almost freezing water, dragging along a free floating body that weighed more than I did and then rescue a drowned manny that also weighed more than I did. :P
At least I didn't drown. :)

Sleepless Nights

With all the physically challenging stuff we do here, it's no surprise that most of us are fully of capable of sleeping while standing. I am willing to bet that every single one of us falls asleep within 10 minutes after lying on our beds.
So it is with ample surprise that you still find soldiers having spent sleepless, restless nights. How? Oh, it's simple: night duties of various kinds. The most common of which is the Administrator duty, which lasts a full 24 hours.
A new admin, with his or her two assistants take on the post in the evening, spend most of the night awake, sleeping only 4 hours, if all goes well, and must ensure the smooth running of the division they are in charge of. They call the shots on what uniform to wear, where to be at what time and whom to allow and whom not to allow on the premises. I have had the lovely honour of being admin from tonight, hence the late hour of the post, and boy do I feel sleepy. I cannot imagine I will be more than a zombie come dawn.

Free Time

Time is an interesting thing. Human beings are the only creatures on ths earth who see the need to measure the time it takes for the sun to rise, set and rise again and then set specific routines, depending on where the sun is.
But on to my point. Our time in the Defence Forces is very exactly measured and planned. We have a very strict routine right down to the minute we have our meals and when we go to bed. I mean, we even have a very specific time for our battery to eat in the cafeteria before the next batallion marches in, and it's 15 minutes. 15 minutes after 120 men march in for lunch, another 120 men march into a cafeteria that I doubt accommodates 200 at a time. No pressure.
The interesting part, however, is not that we have to do at what time and in how much time, but rather what we do when we DON'T have some deadline to make. Free time. The time when we can pull out our electronics and chat with friends and family (or blog, for those who don't have enough friends or family to chat with). At times it can't even be considered close to being sufficient, and at other times, it feels as though there's so much of it that you might as well sleep for a few hours and still sit picking your nose in boredom.
So what do we do with the free time? Well, that depends on the day. On a lovely weekday, we are luckyto get half an hour of free time. Not much blogging to do there. Maybe a quick blog on what happened yesterday? Or perhaps a call to the girlfriend who misses her other half like crazy. On weekends? Oh, dear. I don't know. Sit on the stool by the bed and wish we could sleep on the bed (No sleeping on the bed during the day. AT ALL). Sit by the table, listening to some music or audio book and solve 20 or so sudokus or crossword puzzles. Run a lap or five around the perimeter, after all heaven knows we don't run enough. Work out (we don't do enough of that either, apparently). Blog (Where do you think the long posts come from? Magic?). Still not your cup of tea? Oh, well. For those who don't like any of the afore mentioned, there's always the friendly neighbourhood café, "Sõdurikodu", or "SK" for short. Filled with food, TVs, two XBox 360 game consoles, a handful of computers, a pool table, table football, guitars, and a drum-set (which are currently annoyingly disrupting my concentration as I type. :P ). All in all, not a bad set up. Ah, yes. We have saunas too.
Join us! We have Saunas and Stuff!

Divisions

Right, so it's about time we cleared up the army divisions, for those sorry people whjo have no idea what a platoon or battery is.
Let's start it off simple. We have a soldier. Cool. Big deal. Wait, this is boring..... let's take two instead. Aah, yes. Two soldiers. They can watch each other's backs and cover for each other. A nice pair, no? No? OK. Fine, let's take a few more pairs then. Maybe four or five? Yes. 8-10 soldiers. A Squad. Now that's definately cool. You can have two of them man some heavy machine gun and another two man the anti-tank weapons. One idiot on the radio/telephone and one medic, to patch up the most clumsy and unlucky Probably also need a leader, an assistant and a grunt or two to fire off and/or soak up bullets. Damn, these guys can do quite a bit. Why do we even need pairs anyway? Oh, well. We'll see.
But..... 10 men.... don't you think that's still very small? Not impressive at all... Fine, let's take a few more squads. Three or four squads should do. A platoon (I once madethe mistake of calling it a team), 30-40 soldiers. Well, now. That's just big. Very little they can't handle. You'd need something massive to take them out. Hmmm... But, bigger is better right? So.... What about three or four platoons? Aah. A Company (or Battery, if you're in the Artillery). A nice 120-160 men. That's a lot of mouths to feed, and that's no joke. :P
What, a battery still not big enough? You want to upscale some more? How about a battalion? No? A Brigade? No? Well, sorry. That's just too large for my little brain to comprehend. :P

The Hundred Acre Wood

Eleven days in the forest can give you such a stink in the clothes! (Hands up who knows which kids movie quote I just minced.)

So... er...... Forest. It's bit, it's full of trees, and the assholes in charge of us succeeded in finding the only stretch of land in Estonia that is NOT flat. There were so many hills in such a small piece of land, that I have absolutely no idea how it's possible. Of course, running around in full gear over said hills is...... not exactly my idea of fun. :P

So, what did we do in the forest? Here we go!

Camoflauge
The very first thing we did/got was a stick of two tone camo (green and black) and we had to paste it on, thicker than the thickest make up you will ever see. On top of that, we assaulted a bunch of fir trees, taking their branches and putting them on our gear, to mask the outlines, making us a small forest of moving trees, because seeing 40 fir trees stand up and walk in single file through the forest is not suspicious at all. I didn't like the way the needles just kept on poking. :P


Tents
For the really cold and wet nights, we have the half-platoon tent, which fits 20 men. Of course, fitting here is pretty much the same way factories fit sardines in cans. Oh, yeah. That elbow room. That elbow room. Oh, and right in the middle of the tent is a beautiful little oven, to drive the moisture and cold out. Now, does anyone see a problem with fitting people like sardines around a red-hot (not joking, by the way) oven? No? Oh, OK. It's cool then.Oh, what? Someone has to watch the oven all night? Oh, OK. So let's just shave off an hour or two of sleep and add a red-hot oven into the mix I think I'm perfectly fine with that. :)


Trekking
Don't even get me started. Did I mention the hills? They were more like cliffs and mountains I had to climb over. IN GEAR. After all this, I had better be able to carry two or three younger cousins and siblings on my shoulders all at once for an hour or two. If not, I'm asking for my money back (no, I didn't pay money for it, so there's no money to ask for). Shameless plug incoming: I can't say how much the 10 Snickers bars saved my life. Those things were my emergency fuel because we all know that 24h survival rations are not exactly brimming with calories and energy. Don't get me wrong, they get most of the job done, I wasn't simply living off of Snickers bars, but the bars certainly picked up where the rations couldn't go any further. From here on in, I hereby ADORE Snickers bars.

Orienteering
Hey dawg, I learned you like getting lost in the forest. So let's get lost in the forest while we're lost in the forest! :D :P
Oh, and to make it interesting, let's do it at night, so that you get no sleep, it's pitch black and.... Oh, I know! Patrols that you should avoid. Oh, and you're not allowed to use lights. Now GO!
I need to eat more carrots. :P And work on my stealth.


Patrolling and guarding posts
It would be a shame if some annoying "spy" entered the camp while we sleep, so..... Let's set up guard posts on all the entry points and an all-night patrol. What's that? There's no enemy and therefore no spies? NONSENSE! An extra hour patrolling for you! (no, that didn't happen. :) )
Because it's obvious tat we were getting too much sleep (6-7 hours? Preposterous! You don't need that much sleep!), we had to patrol and/or guard posts in hourly shifts. If you were really unlucky, you got a full-day shift guarding the roads heading to the shooting range, so that no silly civilians got caught in the hail of bullets. I mean, just because it's the Central Polygon of the Estonian Defence Forces doesn't mean that civilians don't see it as their right to enter.

Wake-up calls and Morning Excercises
I hereby love my alarm clock, for it doesn't demolish my tent to wake me up. It also doesn't throw grenades into my tent to wake me up. Neither does it throw more grenades into the middle of the mess of tents to wake everyone else up. And to top off the wake up, we have a wonderful surprise for you: a morning run through the forest (did I mention the mountains and cliffs?) at a speed that leaves everyone gasping for breath and wishing they were dead?

Grenades
You know the little green things that blow up in your face? Yeah, they are cool. Except when you have bosses like ours. Those guys are like little boys with toys, tossing grenades (OK, they were learner grenades, not the real deal) left right and centre.
Oh, what's that? People are not working fast enough? GRENADE! Hmmm... Wake-up calls are not working well enough? GRENADE! Oh, I'm sorry... are you bored at your post? GRENADE! Hmmm..... I see you're peacefully refilling your water bottle. I wonder...... GRENADE! Oh, what's that? You're practising your grenade throw? GRENADE!

Alarm
We were given defence positions around the perimeter. If, at any point in time the alarm were raised, we were to stop whatever we were doing (even if it was taking a crap (or killing a bear as we called it), put on our battle gear and sprint to the defence positions. Fun, yes? Did I mention the hills?
Oh, and the cause for alarm? Anything. An accidental misfire? ALARM! Someone left their weapon unattended? ALARM! Someone forgot to remove their clip from their rifle before making it "safe"? ALARM - On that topic, the idea is to take out the clip then reload. That way, the bullet currently sitting in the gun gets kicked out and as there is no clip, there are no more bullets to take. If you were an idiot and douchebag and left the clip in.... Yep. You got another bullet in the gun thus nullifying your work. Such situations always ended up with an unexpected gunshot. Not life fire, thankfully: always blanks.

The STICK
For those idiots who simply have to mess something up, you give them The Stick. More accurately, you give them a flipping huge log that they have to lug around for a day or two, just because.


These are the highlights. I know this because I left my notes on the forest camp in my other trousers and these are the things that I remembered. Despite the dripping sarcasm and what it might imply, I had lots of fun and enjoyed myself thoroughly. I might make a follow-up post expounding on something, or describing some awesome thing that happened.

Metsa Lähen Ma...

On Monday, the whole Battery is going to live in the forrest. For two weeks. In tents and stuff. I'll be gone for a while. And I'll probably have a lot to write about when I get back. Till then.... I don't know. Re-read my previous posts. :P

Grinding Gears

You know what really grinds my gears?
No, I don't know the correct format for "Grinding Gears". Deal with it.

1. People shouting in me ear. So we have this system where one of us is in charge of the platoon for a day. The lucky ones are in charge even longer and the idiot in charge yesterday (Monday) not only didn't know how to be in charge, but shouted annoyingly. At least we can't say we didn't hear him. On the other hand, I might not hear anything anymore. :P

2. People shouting the songs. So we have a "Battery Song". All companies and batteries have one. But that's the thing: they're meant to be SONGS! So when people shout out, as loud as they can, in a monotone...... Yeah. Something's wrong there. To make it worse, after shouting, the platoonees are increadibly proud of themselves for drowning out the gay pioneers with their shouts. I am all for the drowning out, but I'd like it if people SANG!

3. Silly questions. Every group has one. That annoying idiot who asks the silliest questions. Nuff said.

4. Drill Sargeants.

5. Wake up calls.

Edit: I will add to this list soon.

FREEDOM!

Thou shalt follow all the rules we have internally while outside. Thou shalt not swear or curse, thou shalt not cause a ruckus. Thou shalt not purchase or consume alcohol while in uniform. Thou shalt not use narcotics while in uniform. Thou shalt not enlist the services of a commercial sex worker while in uniform. Thou shalt not combine articles of civilian clothing, such as a "Hello Kitty" t-shirt with the uniform. Thou shalt return before the alloted time. Failure to do so shall result in strong disciplinary measures. Thou shall return in full uniform. Thou shalt return with a respectable hairstyle and shaven. Thou shalt not return with illegal items including, but not limited to your cousin's dog, a commercial sex worker, or said cousin, if said cousin is not in the Estonian Defence Forces. Thou shalt return sober and not under the influence of any narcotics.
These were the cmmandments given to me by our platoon elder. Almost word for word (including the "Hello Kitty" shirt part). Oh yeah, I got two days of freedom in civilisation, because apparently I was such a good sport for the past 5 weeks. Yay for me! I can breathe in that fresh, free, civilian air and feel the smooth fabric of civilian clothing. While it lasts.

Push It To The Limit

Ok, so let's explain ourselves.
I woke up this morning feeling as tired as I was when I went to bed, had to endure an annoying morning workout and then die immediately after breakfast.
We started off with medic lessons, where we practiced getting a gallen comrade off the battlefield. Dragging a sumbitch who weighs twice as much as you do is..... Yeah. Exactly.
Immediately after that, we dragged ourselves to the airstrip for orienteering, where I got lost in the forrest, and ended up tired as fu.... ahem. I ended up tired and frustrated. I was looking forward to a nice lunch, but was even more annoyed when I was told we have to drag ourselves 2km, where our next lesson was. I had to make do with an outdoor lunch and then a 3hr lesson on our reet where we set up phone lines. We got back with only a few minutes to spare before we had to dash, stinky and sweaty, to the cafeteria for supper.
My soles hate me. A lot.

I'm Done

Seriously. I am flipping tired and pretty much done. I want sleep, my ancles dislike me, my soles are planning a mutiny, my body is fatigued and my mind has had enough.
At least we have food. :P

Tri-leg-hate

Saturday: cleaning day. A day when we can blow off steam by scrubbing whatever object is refusing to follow the general cleanliness trend. Unless you're silly enough to sign up for some sports competition. See where I'm going with this?
Last week and the previous one, I signed up for "Cross-Fit", a small competition, exclusively in our battery (remind me to post on batteries soon). Today, however we didn't have Cross-Fit. Instead, the Estonian Defence Forces held theis annual Triathlon. Aaaaand guess who chose to sign up. Yeah. My legs already were grumbling and thinking about mutiny from yesterday's killer treck and I was to go participate in a relay. I had to ride 10 km with a mountain bike with miniature wheels. Results: we got the second-last place the other battalion team got fifth.
But when all's said and done, I had fun. And...and...and.... "Look! Look over there! Civilians! Living civilian lives!" They army boys got a chance to be civilians again for a few hours. We basked in the July sun, went swimming in the lake and I got to ride a bike. On th way back we went shopping and I bumped into a friend in the book store I was browsing. SHOUT OUT: MAARJA!
Did I mention the intense July heat? :D

My sole: I walked it off

Trecks: Soldiers do them, recruits attempt them; but if your sargeant is a real piece of work, you will get quite a fair share of trecks.
Our history on trecking: 3 km in battle gear, 6 km in battle gear and 11 km in full gear (not just battle gear - remind me to make a post on gear).
So this last one was a serious piece, that left us harbouring mixed thoughts about the meaning of life and everything. We took along a handfull of people from Team 3 (remind me to make a post on teams) and cast off at around 8 in the morning, nice and breezy in full gear (battle gear plus a nice, big bag of stuff). We took the scenic route to the shooting range (our first time shooting) - by the way, I can't shoot straight for.... ahem. Less than an hour later, I had drained half of my water bottle and one of the Team 3 boys collapsed. Did I mention the intense July heat? By some good fortune, my roommate had packed along an extra water bottle, with which I refilled my bottle. Half an hour later my bottle was back to half and a member of our team collapsed. Did I mention the intense July heat? I moved on to half rations and in around one hour or so, we arrived at the shooting range, having trecked around 8 km.
We spent the day there, shooting and basking in the intense July heat. We had lunch (which reminds me, I should wash my stuff...) and then trecked the short way back, another 3 km. On the last leg, my feet issued a formal complaint and went on strike and my spirit broke. I just wanted to get it over with and go home. On arrival at the dorms, I saw that the reason for my feet hating me was that they had been wet for too long, boiling in my sweat. I hope they will recover over the weekend.

Soooo.... Yeah. Did I mention the intense July heat?

Back in post duty

Looks like I'm a sucker for lazy naps in the forrest because I volunteered for a second post in the forest, securing the perimeter. Unlike last time, this time I spent the night under a fir tree.
Here's a picture of my makeshift tent. Sorry, if you don't like the quality. I was busy fighting off bloodthirsty insects. Speaking of which, I suddenly realised that my English isn't what it was before I started living in Estonia. How? Well, I invested in a bottle of mumbo jumbo with the text "Insect Repellant" on the cover, believing that it would, oh, I don't know, REPELL mosquitoes. Obviously I failed to understand that insect repellant does not repel insects. Oh, well. :P

Post Duty

Old Uncle Sam sent a team to have fun and play. We get to see what toys the Yanks play with and they get to laugh at our toys.
As part of their visit, the Yankees get to play with 105mm howitzers in some abandoned forest and we get to secure the perimeter.
Sitting by the road in some forest got pretty boring and we got the lovely opportunity to yank out our phones and play Angry Birds and Skype as much as our batteries alowed.

So here's a picture of me in the forest with my battle gear. Yes, the gear is wearing me and it is only going to get heavier. :P

New boots

Aaaah! My ancles!!!
We got new boots, so that we can change them if one pair should get filthy. The annoying part: they're uncomfortable as ..... ahem. I think you get the idea. Now I have to go through the rather annoying procedure of breaking them in. Until then, my ancles will not like me much. :P

Ajee! March!

So some asshole got caught with their phone out at the wrong time. So they took us to the airstrip, a 2.5 km stretch of concrete about 3km away from the base.
Motivation was up to the stratosphere and we got awesome network reception. Letsee what happens now. :P

Motivation

Ok, I must admit I do not like our drill sargeants.
Here are my reasons:
1. They always shout and are rude.
2. They expect us to comply without question.
3. They contradict each other and punis- ahem.... motivate us whenever that happens.
4. Their Motivation methods are annoying and unnecessary.

Some of the sins I have managed to commit:
1. Sit with my legs crossed at the ancles
2. Sit on the bed.
3. Hold my towel with my left hand.
4. Hang my towel over my shoulder.
5. Put stuff on the bed as I pack and fold them with the intention of placing them in my cupboard.
6. Left my cupboard open as I stepped out of my room.

Three cheers for motivation and down with the horrible sins and the devil that convinces my to commit them. :P

Edit: the picture is a sheet of paper onto which I wrote 200 times, "I will not sit on the bed."

Marching song

Sarge is tired of shouting out the Estonian equivalent of "Hut Two Three Four" and other interesting Says of keeping us marching to the beat, so they found a song we will start singing as we march. The whole Battery (a blog on that soon) has to learn it by heart.

THE SUN! IT BUUUURNSSSSSS!!!

Last week we had some pretty warm weather. The sun beat down from above, dishing out rays like.... Errr.... The Sun.
Pop question: what happens when you take your average Estonian and put them in the Summer Sun for an hour or two?
THEY TURN RED! Or pink. And I finally understood what tan-line means. If you see a red face and a white line going from the eye to the temple, that means the person you're looking at had glasses on while taking a stroll out in the sun.
It is also really hillarius seeing guys here shirtless (no homo) as it looks like someone took a white torso and, due to a shortage of parts, attached red arms and a red head onto it.

Yes, this post has no flow. Sorry. :P

Food!!!

So with all the marching, shooting and running around with gear, physical tests and other stuff.... The stomach gets really empty really fast. Thankfully we have awesome cooks at the cafeteria. Unfortunately, said cafeteria is small, which means we MUST eat quickly so that the next group can have their meals. So, basically, I have estam more in the past two weeks than I ever knew I would and much faster than I would have ever believed.
Omnomnomnom

Radio silence

So some smartasses decided to use their phones on the coridors.
For those who don't know, phone usage is restricted to dorm rooms and classrooms and only during the designated time.
So, a large number of fools used their phones in the wrong place at the wrong time and our superiors decided to restrict our phone usage even more, so..... The time between pista is only going to increase.

THIS IS MY RIFLE!

THERE ARE MANY OTHERS LIKE IT, BUTTHIS ONE IS M.... Oh, I should give it back now? Awww..... Do I have to? Ok. :(
So we had our first rifle lesson today. We learned how to open up and put together a Galil AR. The things were oily and stuff, just out of storage. It was pretty cool. The rifles are held in a gun store (really solid walk-in safe), so no sleeping with rifles, like in "Full Metal Jacket". But hey: "THIS IS MY RIFLE!"

Flippin tables

Today was cleaning day. It's the day recruits make the barracks sparkling clean even if the surface is mate. It's the day when Sarge brings out the white gloves and checks how clean the place is. Yup. THAT day. I learned a lot. I learned that there were places on my bed I never knew existed, right up until Sarge shoved his fingers there and produced dust, thus also proving that it is dirty. According to the timetable, cleaning time was to last until lunch time. We finished at 17.30. We started at 8.00. Nuff said.

My Legs Dislike Me

Ok, so I've been quiet a few days. Mostly because I'm not sure what to blog about. The past two days we've been marching like nobody's business. My legs issued a formal warning yesterday, which I was forced to ignore. Thankfully, there was no sprinting or running, just steady march, so my legs haven't gone on strike yet. Some of my cohorts already have bloody feet, a phoenomenon I have had the good fortune not to encounter.
Yesterday we had a general physical test: something that aims to put place our general physical prowess and stuff. It is, simply put, as many push-ups as possible in 2 min, as many sit-ups as possible in 2 min and a 3 km run, in as short a time as possible. I did 45 push-ups, 46 sit-ups and the run in slightly over 12 min, thereby scoring 228 points out of 300.
Not a bad result, from what I gather. Could do better, though.

Back to school

Aaand it's back to school, it seems, with today being a full classroom day with the Leutenant. We're all in uniform and I'm feeling some serious Primary School vibes. We've also had a nice time walking around the expansive establishment. At least the food's good.

Road trip

Allrighty then. As I sit in the chartered bus that takes me to my "new home" for the next 11 months, a little blogbug bites.
So... Letsseenow. I'm in the bus, awesome friend sitting on my right and a busfull of strangers all around. Butterflies run amok in the stomach area and the omlette I shovelled down my throat less than an hour ago doesn't seem to be sufficient.
The grandparents fussed and acted as paparazzi for as long as they could before I got on the bus and the significant other wouldn't let go.
I missed a call from the parent as I walked steadily to the pick up area.
So.... Letssee what awaits at the other end of this road. :P