For Rememberance Sake

These photos were uploaded as part of this draft entry almost a week ago.

Since then, we've lazed on the glorious beaches of Miami for days in a row, donated blood to hundreds of poor starving mosquitoes in swampy Everglades and are now watching a violent storm angrily brewing over Florida Bay (it's hurricane season after all) from a very windy pier in Key Largo.

It's hard to believe we were in Washington DC just so recently. It's hard to remember what it was like being there and doing the things we did. Which is why this blog is so important to us. It's for remembrance sake - a bank for fleeting thoughts and transient memories, before they fade into total obscurity and out of our minds' reach.

Just like our blog, the large stony memorials towering above DC serve to remind one and all of people and events which built the US' long history. We spent a day at the National Mall wandering through historic markers, craning our necks to catch a glimpse of the tops of tall towers, circling thick columns and squinting in the sunlight to read the inscriptions on the plaques.

The Washington Monument, which sets the max limit for building heights in DC.

Entrance to the top is free - if you can get your hands on a ticket. Which we didn't.

There's a whole bunch of memorials along the mall - one each for Jefferson, Lincoln, Roosevelt, the Vietnam Veterans, the Korean War, the two World Wars, etc. Well, not quite a bunch, cos they were placed really far apart from one another. Make that really REALLY far apart in the sweltering heat (read: very hot, even by Singapore standards.) We only visited those that happened to intersect our path between the Washington Monument nearest to the museum cluster and the Lincoln Memorial on the far end of the mall.

People dipping their toes in the cool fountain at the WWII memorial to cool off

Wreathes commemorating all the US states and US territories involved in WWII

The UFO-like WWII memorial with the pencil-like Washington Monument in the background

The Washington Monument, reflected in the, er, Reflecting Pools

The most impressive one by far is the Lincoln Memorial. I guess that's cos the statue inside actually takes the form of a human, unlike most of the others (we didn't see the Jefferson or the FDR memorials though, so we don't know if they got to look human too.) A very large human indeed. The distance between the ground and his toe alone is 8 feet - taller than any human I know. It was tempting to climb onto Mr Abraham's lap and beg him to tell a story, but the memorial's very well patrolled by omnipresent security personnel who guard him like a hawk. Even then, I've read that poor Linc has still managed to be the subject of various pranks, such as having his eyeballs coloured in.


There are free talks scheduled daily, where a ranger tells the story of Abraham Lincoln to anyone who cares to gather round and listen - if you can hear above the visitors' chatter. The ranger highlighted that there was no need to feel obliged to stay throughout his presentation. So we didn't and wandered off to read Lincoln's famous speeches about abolishing slavery inscribed on the walls instead.

Little kid in yellow holding his head in pain after reading all that text.

It was only after we repeatedly ploughed through the giant body of text in a bid to grasp it's full meaning (people in the past should have really learnt to use more punctuation and write in shorter sentences) that we realised Lincoln's famous Gettysburg Address starting with the iconic phrase "Four scores and seven years ago" was another wall on the other side of the statue. Duh.

Unfortunately, we lost track of time in all that memorial-gazing and Dan missed his appointment at the White House! Sheesh. But it was okay. We just dropped Obama an SMS and he was cool about it, adding that he'll even dispatch his private chopper to fly us in any other time at our convenience. What a nice man indeed.

This photo was so not taken while we were clawing at the gate with the commoners for a shot of the White House.

The Grand White Dame herself

And this is it for ol' DC.

Recorded on 24 Jun 2009.
For remembrance sake.

Remembering those Army days

This post is rated (PG) for adult language


In between the Washington Monument and the Reflecting Pool that leads to the Abraham Lincoln Monument is yet another monument called the World War II Memorial.


But what struck me about the memorial was not the fountain (where people were seated round cooling off their feet despite a sign that says "Stay Out of the Water. Respect the Memorial"). It was also not the columns that surrounded the fountain, with names of all the places where there were U.S. Bases (All Your Base Are Belong to Us!) during the war.

In fact, it was a series of bas-reliefs that were carved into the sides of the stairway to the fountain. The bas-reliefs were remarkably life-like, and looking at them just brought back memories of my own days in the Army.

I was trained as a RTO after receiving my jungle hat. That's Radio-Telephone Operator in Army-speak for you. We are the ones who always needed help with the weight of our alice-packs, because not only is the radio ridiculously big and heavy, the batteries (and spare batteries!) were no lightweights too!

On the plus side, we were usually looked upon with favour by the commanders because we would also be their runners. That meant special treatment. Sometimes. When we do our job right.

Signals school was also fun, though it taught me nothing new from what I had already learnt from the Signals platoon from my own camp. No... scratch that. I learnt Morse Code in Signals school. Up till now, I can still remember that dit-dit-dah-dit dit-dit-dah dah-dit-dah-dit dah-dit-dah spelt FUCK. Heh.

"Hi mum! What? Screaming in the background? Nah.. just some pansy. Everything's fine here. Love you. Bye!"

The next bas-relief that almost brought a tear to my eye was this one.

"Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door! Jump right out at the count of four!"

It's shows a line of paratroopers getting ready to do their static line jump from the aircraft (in my mind, it's always a C-130, but I doubt it was so in WWII).

As my eye roved over the equipment that the paratroopers were carrying, I could still hear my instructors yelling,"Check Equipment!" And the litany would begin,"Helmet, capewell, life jacket, chest-strap, reserve snap, ripcord, leg strap, pack-tie, static line clear and hooked up!"

"Move forward!"
"Right-left, right-left" We would move forward in a shuffle-step that would allow us to "keep-close-keep-tight"

We jumped onto a runway and the neatly manicured grass verges at the airport. These troopers jumped into a combat zone, no matter the terrain!

Then, the first jumper would be at the door, with his testicles up in his throat. It's really no joke, looking out an aircraft at 1,000 ft, and as the plane banks to make a turn, you could almost feel the fear of dropping right out of the door face-first, screaming as you plummet down the ground at an acceleration of 10 metres per second. The force as you go ker-splat on the tarmac would of course be your mass multiplied by your acceleration, according to Mr Issac Newton.

That never happens, of course. :)

The beauty of the static-line hookup is that the line that activates your parachute is connected to the aircraft itself. You fall out, your chute would (should!) activate within 3 seconds. Then you do the drills that you have been taught to steer and land safely. Then everyone would laugh off their fear and anxiety and go have a beer.

People who know me well know that I hated my time in the army. After all, I am one of those guys that brighten up only when there are ladies around. But experiences like these are hard to forget. The pride that I felt with such an elite team is hard to forget.

LTA Leong leading the way, SSG Andy bringing up the rear...

Go, reconnaissance team! We're the best, and everyone knew it.

Security at the White House

You wanna visit the White House? You wanna visit the President of the United States?

Well, it's not that easy, because he's very well-guarded. There's the Secret Service, tons of guards at the White House... all walking around with sensors and armed to the teeth.

Here's a picture of the first line of defense:


Yup. If you don't have an appointment to see Mr President, then you have no choice but to approach the nice policeman in the car and you know, hold him.

Heh.

Good thing I had an appointment.