Esquire Singapore – Call of Duty, Fong Hoe Fang

Mr MacGyver

Water parades took on a whole new meaning in 1972, as Fong Hoe Fang remembers it to be.

“We had a full bottle of water each when we went outfield,” he said. “That was it.” 

Every sip of water was a calculated risk at quenching one’s thirst he adds – especially when faced with the merciless tropical heat. 

The sprightly 60-year-old was, like most Singaporeans, the age of 18, when he was conscripted into the Singapore Army in 1972.  He would continue to serve for three years where he graduated with the rank of Captain(NS). 

As a young recruit part of the sixth batch of National Servicemen to don the Temasek green, Fong recalls the idiot-proof strategy of rationing water – not stopping short of praising its ingenious approach. 

With bottle caps doubling up as measuring units, the tried and tested readings are as follow : 15 caps – half bottle empty, 30 caps – full bottle empty.

The MacGyver like intuition does not stop there. 

With the inner linings removed, helmets were transformed as tools to boil water in the event where mess tins were unavailable. 

“We made do with what we had, there were no two ways about it,” he adds.

Towards his fortieth birthday, he received a letter: He was discharged from his national service commitments. No thank you. Nothing.  

Not one to take things lying down, Fong wrote back in jest: “They had a ball of a time punishing us when we joined.”

“A simple show of gratitude wouldn't have hurt, you know."

He also wrote to the authorities suggesting that a farewell party was well overdue. 

“Obviously, no reply ever came.”

--

Text by Prabhu Silvam

This was part of a feature on Esquire Singapore on national service veterans. 

Esquire Singapore - Call of Duty, Paramasivam Packirisamy

Service to the nation

The Kallang Roar of the 70’s once captured the attention of a nation, winning over the hearts and minds of thousands who were fortunate enough to witness our own footballing spectacle. 

Touted as the Golden Age of Singapore football, these players would go on to achieve regional and international feats that would go unsurpassed for decades to come. 

Paramasivam Packirisamy knows firsthand what it feels like to share a bunk with the Kallang Roar.

The reverberations still feel as raw as it did 50 years ago. 

“Allapitchay and Eric – gentlemen both on and off the field,” a stout and well spoken Packirisamy said, referring to Samad Allapitchay and Eric Paine – two of Singapore’s fabled footballing sons.

They were usually excused most days to go for football trainings the 70-year-old adds. 

Having joined the Public Utilities Board as a senior technician in 1966, Packirisamy was conscripted into the army at the age of 24 on 27th September 1968. His first child was less than a year when he was asked to report for service.  

“I had no choice – this was my only way to get a promotion at work.” 

An injury a few months after his Basic Military Training changed the course of his NS life. Unfit for regular training, he got transferred and reported to Pearl’s Hill daily. 

Here, he would be out-stationed across the island for crow culling – a job outsourced to the army in the early 70’s.  

His new vocation granted him the chance to go home daily – something he looked forward to as the sole bread winner of a young family.

“Crow culling was not something I fancied doing, but I couldn't complain,” he said. “I got to see my family everyday.” 

--

Text by Prabhu Silvam

This was part of a feature on Esquire Singapore on national service veterans. 

Esquire Singapore - Call of Duty, Sardar Ali

A time before conscription

Duty-free alcohol and the promise of faraway shores were too good a deal to pass up for the then 18-year-old Sardar in 1958—as it would be for any 18-year-old in any year, for that matter. He served for over three decades.

Dissatisfied with the humdrum of civilian life and brimming with brazen vigour, he enlisted with the MRNVR voluntary core—a British-based naval unit located at the Telok Ayer Basin. Assigned to the RSS Panglima, which served mainly as a training ship for the volunteers, the fundamental duties of the core were to safeguard key installations, among other responsibilities. The Raffles Institution old boy has the honour of being part of a force that predates the current national service conscription—the existence of which isn’t known to many.

“The beauty of the group was how different we all were,” he adds. Fate couldn’t have dealt a more unexpected card than the uncanny assortment of professionals who formed the core strength of the corps. Naval architects, dentists, specialist doctors and lawyers were just some of the many characters in the MRNVR, serving alongside a young Sardar. Divided by professions, they found themselves united by a common ideology to defend their city-state, one that would achieve independence in a few years’ time.

Weekends meant touch-and-go trips to places like Malacca, Penang or Langkawi—a welcome reprieve from the daily regime of training and soldiering classes. “Good times,” he says, as he flips through a weathered scrapbook with neatly arranged black and white photos where a single photograph of a man in full naval gear stares back. He looks somewhat different these days, but the searing gaze remains the same.

--

Text by Prabhu Silvam

This was part of a feature on Esquire Singapore on national service veterans. 

SG100 - Chung Wah Sun

I can build better than the youngsters

"The Japanese soldiers asked me to chase a duck. I tried but I lost it so I ran home. They shot through my wooden door, leaving a gaping hole. Lucky I was not shot dead!

I repaired and built the meeting door at the Parliament house in the 70s…Lee Kuan Yew was efficient, he paid my overtime! The spiral staircase at Kallang Cinema, is it still there? I made that too. The boss requested for Teak and paid me a lump sum. 

I enjoyed going to bars. I earned a lot, spent a lot. I did not save. Why should I save? Now I don’t have money.

I bet I can build better than the youngsters. I can do it. But companies refuse to insure me because I’m too old. I cannot build anymore. 

I carry pens in my pocket not because I write. I seldom write. It’s just a habit. But for now…it’s just to look good. 

My wife is not my first love. She is my only one."  

--

Mr Chung Wah Sun was born in 1915 and grew up in Malacca. A carpenter by profession, Mr Chung started as an apprentice during the Japanese Occupation. In his late 20s, he met and fell in love with his wife (now 87). They moved to Singapore after the war. Mr Chung was in the construction industry for over 30 years. He owned a small company specialising in Teak carpentry. Mr Chung built the beautiful doors in his flat by himself 15 years ago, when he was 86. 

Text by Adlina Maulod

Commissioned to take portraits of Singaporean centenarians by the Centre for Ageing Research and Education (CARE) for their recent conference titled 'Are Centenarians the Realisation of Successful Ageing: Insights from a Global Study'.

These portraits also feature as an exhibition together with the conference titled 'SG100: A Celebration of Our Centenarians'.

SG100 - Yip Kwai Heng

Young people must learn how to do everything

"I started working at 14. Grow crops…rear cows…I had to do everything to support my family. One day I heard someone say, “We are going to Singapore!” So I quickly went along. They said coming to Singapore was good. You can earn money. You can earn a lot of money!

I was 19 when I arrived in Singapore. I did not tell my father or mother. They would not have let me come otherwise. 

What’s there to not be happy? I just sleep every day, and live every day.

I teach our helper how to cook. She does not know how. Boil old cucumber soup. Add some pork bones and honey dates…very delicious! For soya sauce chicken…first you stir-fry the vegetables and then you add the chicken piece-by-piece in soya sauce. 

I want to mati. Life stops having meaning when you have lived too long. My wish is to die at night, peacefully in my sleep. Pray to Guan Yin, that I get my wish. 

Young people must learn how to do everything. I sewed clothes, swept floors, rolled cigars, and peddled goods. I carried mud! I do, what I can do. I will teach you to roll cigars. You must do everything to earn money. Then save a lot of money. 

We were so poor then. I work all my life. I have saved a lot of money by myself and for my daughter’s education."

--

Born in 1916, Madam Yip started working at 14, rearing crops and cows in Guangzhou, China. She stayed in a coolie house upon arrival in Singapore. Madam Yip had to pay her friends to be match-made to her late husband. In her late 30s, Madam Yip adopted her only daughter. Her daughter admires her spunk and describes Madam Yip as a highly independent, very outspoken and friendly woman who was good at earning and saving money. Madam Yip was also brave. She marched in to her husband’s workplace to resolve a conflict between her husband and his colleagues in a time where Chinese women were expected to be docile and quiet. At 96, Madam Yip was actively doing marketing rounds for her household until a bad fall necessitated a hip replacement. Despite her ailments, Madam Yip still insists on cooking for her daughter. 

Text by Adlina Maulod. 

Commissioned to take portraits of Singaporean centenarians by the Centre for Ageing Research and Education (CARE) for their recent conference titled 'Are Centenarians the Realisation of Successful Ageing: Insights from a Global Study'.

These portraits also feature as an exhibition together with the conference titled 'SG100: A Celebration of Our Centenarians'.