I thought about what I would miss most about 42, and the corridor right outside my bunk was the first to come up in my mind.
Of course, this is not borne of a strange, outlandish interest in the mundane architecture of the battalion, though I have to admit that I do find the 90's, functional look of the buildings here rather charming at times... well, before they were repainted in an ugly colour scheme, at least. But I digress.
I believe that after I permanently leave this place in December, I will miss the corridor for all the peaceful moments it has brought me – all the nights I rested my elbows on the railings or roamed up and down the aisle while listening to music, chatting with my parents over the phone, making conversation, or simply looking out into the cool evening sky during the moments before going to bed, to name a few.
Corridors are terribly underrated where I am, with many of my platoon mates whiling away their free time in the evenings either playing pool and video games in the Cove (our version of a leisure room), or slacking in the bunks. Of course, even I don't spend all my time out in the corridor loitering about, and forgetting to spend some time out there is very much natural. Rather, I believe the corridor is more of a representation of all the seemingly insignificant moments during my time in NS, many of which left indelible impressions in my heart.
I guess I can never help the fact that it's always the little things that get to me. Of course, should I meet with my friends from NS at a time after all of us have moved on and forged our respective paths, I'm pretty certain that we would first reminisce about all the big things – the tough field exercises, memories from the days when we were still trainees in our courses, the funny stories about our fellow platoon mates, commanders and enciks... and the list goes on and on. And as much as all of these will be given its rightful place in memory, what I will remember most dearly comes in moments.
I have been spending the past few nights listening to Corrinne May on repeat out along the corridors. Her songs always whisk me back to the days I spent as a recce trainee in PLC last year, and I remember vividly how I would listen to 'Safe In A Crazy World' while lying on my bed during the nights following a long, exhausting day of training, with the humming of distant traffic outside the window and the rapid whirring of the ceiling fan keeping me company. Looking back, it was nice how so much peace could still well inside me, despite the busyness of those days.
They're right when they say that one day, we will look back and realise that the little things were actually the big things. I imagine myself turning around, and a stream of images flash through my eyes in quick succession. Looking up to a starry night sky from an open field in camp. Gazing blankly at rush hour crowds in the bus after a tiring day in the driving circuit. Having a casual conversation with a friend which turned out to be enriching in ways I have never previously imagined. And all these images just keep flowing in.
It's funny how the most random and unimportant scenes can end up inextricably tied to an important value or lesson one gains in a certain journey.
And it's even funnier, how it's the little things that move us along.
