I could not believe I ended my 2 weeks reservist smoothly. The time there was hell, trainings after trainings, rules and orders were tight, it was something i was not used to after not doing it for 3 years. But guess what? i survived and admittedly i missed the place. The things were gruelling, but thankfully my team of medics which were previously from my nsf days made life a whole lot easier. The things we did were basically waking up every morning at 530 for breakfast, change to our uniforms and draw our rifles at 6, met with our trainer and off we went to some fucked up patch of field to perfect our bcs, battalion casualty station. Like last time, i was the one in charge of carrying the poles and boxes of drugs from the tonner while the rest did the poles or the ropes of arranging the bags. We had to do it under the sun with our standard battle order which include the rifle and the helmet. Every session was painful but thank god for my buddies we all survived. Without them pushing and spurring each other, i think it would be a sad place to be in. On the second week we had our battalion field camp, where we would defend and attack our enemies like we used to do during ns days. for the medics, we just had to cover them from behind for any casualties. The heavy bags sucked, the walk in the forest was worse. During pit stops all we could do was to find a spot and sleep, but knowing the forest, finding a good one is very difficult. On the mud, on the ant nests, we just lied on our backs and took quick naps, before the commanders jolted us out from our peace to continue walking again. It may be tiring, but there are things i could never get to do outside like taking the helicopter, practising on our rifles, not bathing for 4 days, lol, and most importantly the bond that i have with my platoon mates, which is to me is the most important and fruitful thing that ns, or reservist for that matter, could give. How not you, when you suffer together, enjoy together, sleep in the same bunk together, feel the chemistry between ourselves. The medic platoon is such a small squad, so we know each other so well and we all complemented each other during the 2 weeks. When we finally got to step out the camp and not do these things for another year, we shook hands and gave pats on the backs congratulating each other and wishing each other well as we all transformed back to our own civilian lives. I did tear a bit seeing them left off with their bikes or cars, going back for work or to their wives and children. I hope we get to meet soon, my original in camp medical platoon.
