Fifth Weekend of Basic Training

The fifth weekend of basic training took place two weeks after the previous one.  When entering the armoury, it felt like it had been months.

Our class of originally 37 people is now down to 35 candidates.  One is now doing the rest of the course in another city, and the other was accepted by the British Royal Marines and is leaving Canada to get his training in the UK.

This whole weekend was dedicated to first aid.  The whole class got certified.  The written exam was so easy that anyone could pass it even without taking the course.

One corporal from my home unit was an instructor during the weekend.

For some reason, most of the guys in my section kept farting on this one guy from the section.  It was the running gag of the weekend.

I'm currently house-sitting a friend's place and had to take the bus to get there.  I was wearing my uniform and carrying my gear.  At one point, one strange man with obvious psychological issues got on the bus and immediately started talking to me.  He was telling me about a completely made up story about a Canadian Forces soldier killing people in the suburbs of Vancouver.  Normally, I would just tell nut cases like him to buzz off.  However, when wearing the uniform, I am required to display exemplary behavior and be polite and courteous with all.  So, I had to spend my time explaining to this man that his story made no sense and that the members of the Canadian Forces are not here to harm Canadians but rather to serve them.