Blogger stats showed that I had a few hits on a piece that I wrote in 2020 about the Tragedy of Exercise Swift Lion all those years ago. If I had to look at defining moments in life, this was probably one of the main ones of my youth. It was scary because the reality of dying hit home. When you’re in your 20s, you don’t think of dying. It’s something that is reserved for old people. Then, suddenly your friend dies for doing the same job you’re expected to do and the reality that you could be next hits home.
So, when the incident first broke out, the immediate reaction
was trying to find a way of not being next. Top brass was telling us all sorts
of statistically plausible things about how it was faulty fuze but the problem was
being fixed but we weren’t listening. Statistics lose their effect when you
have to attend the funerals of your friends who did the same thing you were
supposed to do.
Fear gave way to sadness and then life moved on. We
tell ourselves that Ronnie and Yin Tit would have wanted it for the rest of us.
We all went onto the do the usual things like start families and careers and
the usual comments on social media about remembrance have gotten fewer as time
has gone by.
Ronnie and Yin Tit were good guys. Young boys who were
sent out on a training exercise as they should have been. Ronnie, the kindest of
souls worked hard to ensure everything would run smoothly. You’re talking about
a guy whose boss had to threaten him with a charge in order to get him to take
a break. Yet, unknown to them, they’d be blown to bits because a few
bureaucrats in the defense establishment couldn’t take ownership of their jobs and
what you call greedy American capitalism and shoddy Chinese workmanship got
blamed. Nobody got fired let alone charged in court. Two young lives were taken
and the defense establishment continued to grab an increasing amount of tax
payer money. As mentioned in that piece – I don’t get it.
During my last trip to the doctor, I was told that
there’s “wear-and-tear” in my knee, which is “normal” for my age. Yes, I am hitting
the half-century mark next year. Aging can get tough, especially when the body starts
telling you that it has limits.
However, I’m lucky to look at 50. Ronnie by comparison
is forever 21 and Yin Tit is forever 18. I’ve adopted a kid who is turning 24
in November and my 27-year-old intern likes to ask me if I’d accept him as my
son-in-law (my answer to him has been that I don’t need to worry about him more
than I already do). I’m doing and experiencing things that neither Ronnie or
Yin Tit never got a chance to do.
So, what does that mean? Well, I guess the main answer
is that while aging is rough, the alternative is inevitably worse. Then, there’s
always the discussion on how exactly do you want to age and what does that mean
for the younger folk as you get older.
Well, let’s start with the truism about combat. War is,
as they often say, a case for old men to talk a lot and for young men to die.
So, as I get older, I got to ask myself, do I want the
young guys around me to do my dirty work and pay for it with their lives. I
realise that I don’t have the capacity to ask the kids to die for my sake.
It doesn’t mean that I won’t get involved in violent
situations. As I explained to someone, I am in a line of work where you need to
consider the possibility that the other guy may not act within expected limits.
However, its something I would get involved in myself, knowing the realities and
consequences. If I ever get involved in such situations, the consequences are
on me. I’m not about to get some kid who has a bright future to do my dirty
work.
Thanks to the intern, I am perpetually asking myself
what type of old person I need to be. I know I’ve been down on the young guys
in Singapore and he’s usually my main example. I’ve told him that I’ve been
sorely tempted to inflict a certain level of violence onto him so that he
understands that the world is nasty and until he learns the value of hard work
and shows that he has some fire in the belly, he’s going to be nothing more
than a worm. Yes, he is by his own definition a “Mummy’s boy” and the type that
makes me want to drill some sense of reality into him by force if necessary.
Sure, he does irk me from time-to-time. However, a lot
of it is going to be on me if he remains a worm. Yet, at the end of the day, I
believe I have an obligation to get him to use his youth and not to rob him of
it. I don’t ask him to do anything I wouldn’t do. So, when I ask him to do “dirty
work,” its because I’m doing it and need spare hands. My hope is that I become
the old guy who inspires him to out do me. I will not be the old guy who sits
in the comfort of a sofa and gets him fired up and ready to die for me. If I become
that person, I’m no better than the bureaucrats who could only cover themselves
when Ronnie and Yin Tit got blown away.
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