NPAP 2018

The NPCC Annual Parade 2018 was held on 7 April 2018 at the Home Team Academy. Cadets from our unit participated in the GOH contingent, flag bearer contingent, supporting contingent and post parade. Below is a reflection piece written by the cadets from Batch 50 who participated in NPAP.

One moment, you’re on top of the world, with everything you ever wanted, everything you ever needed, with all the people you love, right beside you. Then, the next, everything is just crashing down, spiraling into a freefall. If there was any analogy to describe the experience of NPAP for me, that would be it. A crazy roller coaster ride. From the time NPAP was simply just another item to check off my weekend “To Do” list, to an event that will leave me with memories I cannot erase. From the selection test where somehow I made to the CF party, to the water breaks sitting on the grandstand with my juniors and friends, to the moment when I stood with my fellow escorts, behind a row of people on their phones, as we watched a montage of ourselves on screen.The waving colours above my head. The spiral of memories that resound like the double drum beats that tortured me so. The immaculate synchronisation of footsteps like the beat of our hearts. The states flags I cursed (hope that’s legal) for hitting my face and had to arrange again, and again. I remember counting down the days until the seemingly endless Saturdays of trainings would end, until the actual day came, and I came to realise, we only miss what we have when we lose it, and as the days come and go, you would only wish it would never have ended so soon.Originally, I never expected much. All I wanted was a place in the GOH contingent to represent our school. But somehow I got more than that. Someway or another, I managed to pass the Ceremonial Flag escort selections. How I made it, I have no idea, honestly. The CIs just went around picking out people and videoing them. Some unknown deity must have been watching upon me, or perhaps it was simply my height. Forgive my contempt. But I have reason for that. Throughout the practices, I always questioned how much I truly deserved such a position, the honour to march behind the CIs bearing the state flags. My drills were, to be honest, never all that great. Perhaps acceptable, but not outstanding. I kept having that nagging feeling that maybe, the CIs had chosen the wrong person, that there was probably someone much more deserving, more worthy than me. All I could do, was to train harder so that I could get closer to the standards I should have been at. Learning the HQ ways of rifle drills from my other escorts, trying to sharpen my drills to what I named, the ‘Jerk’ standard (basically the point where you are so sharp your whole body jerks when you do the drills). I found myself improving, and felt pride for whatever improvements I made.That sudden drop was that indescribable feeling of disappointment, sadness, even anger at the sheer unfairness of how months of hard work went to waste just because droplets of rain poured from the skies. Water, how harmless and necessary for human survival, such a “double-edged sword” in the way that it tore apart our hopes and anticipations of marching out on the Unity Square. Maybe it was that surging excitement when we were told, “GOH! Pick up your rifles,” and then that crushing feeling when the next command was given, “We’re going back to the armoury.” It was that moment when we all knew the parade couldn’t go on. Or maybe it was that moment when I saw my squadmates, my seniors, and my juniors at the CSSP booth, looking at me expectantly with a smile before I broke down as I felt like I was disappointing them. Because I couldn’t show them something that they would be proud of. For not giving my TOs a chance to say, “That’s my cadet.” Call it insecurity, but I think, once in awhile, everyone wants to see their work appreciated, acknowledged. Things didn’t turn out the way I expected, not even my regrets. I expected to agonise over the mistakes I would have made, and yet my biggest regret, was the fact that I never even got the chance to march out.NPAP was an event that had made me learn that sometimes, unforeseen things happen, and not everything will go your way. I used to believe that as long as you put in enough effort, you would never fail, and things will always be a smooth sailing ride. The fact is, that it isn’t always the case, so all we are left with, are the little things: the people beside us in the moments when we felt like we had everything.I never got to stand amongst the ranks of the GOH contingent during the final parade. Instead, I was standing behind a row of Teacher Officers on their phones, next to the three of my fellow escorts, unconsciously standing in the formation we should have been in, if we got the chance to march out. And overly-dramatic and theatrical as it sounds, even I laughed at the ridiculousness of the moment, as I was reciting the NPCC pledge, I could literally picture myself on the Unity Square, the sun shining brightly overhead, looking up to the words, “Honour & Unity”, with the state flags flying in the wind. In that moment I shed a single tear, and I blinked again, and I was transported out of that reverie, as I realised, never again, would I get to march on the Unity Square with the people I came to know and love.Nonetheless, I don’t regret it. Maybe that roller coaster may have left me in tears, but NPAP was truly an experience I wouldn’t trade for the world. During those weeks I felt that my schoolwork was simply too overwhelming, NPAP was a momentarily sort of escape from reality where I could just laugh and enjoy myself with my juniors, friends from other schools and sometimes, CIs (when they aren’t scolding us of course).I still remember all the stupid things we did, accidentally dropping the M16 right in front of the FIs and CIs (I thought I was going to be pumped on the spot), begging the CIs to give us more practice times (they were insistent on water breaks), the crude and inappropriate jokes of the boys (I will never forget “Hormat” for flag), polishing my boots to the point someone took a photo of them for “looking like a mirror”, and giving a chance for my juniors to know how crazy of a person their senior was.Perhaps, NPAP was truly a crazy ride at an amusement park; with its highs and lows, with its speeds and slows, with screams and blows, and dreams and woes. This long ride may not have had the ending we wanted, but sometimes the perfect ending may not be what we needed. NPAP taught me a lot of things, things definitely more than how to execute rifle drills. And of course, if you would ask me to take that ride all over again, even if I couldn’t change the way it ended?Is an answer even required? 😉