Weekends 6, 7, 8 and 9 of Basic Training

I got a new job at Microsoft, moved to another neighborhood in Vancouver and met a new girl.  These events have kept me rather busy and I didn't find the time to write about my military training until now.  So, this post will present a condensed account of four weekends of training.

On the sixth weekend, we had two big exams.  One on Saturday morning and one on Sunday morning.  The first was a written one on all the theory we had seen that far.  It was pretty easy.  Nobody failed.  I got 100%.  The second one was a practical on marching drill.  Drill is my weakness and the exam made me nervous.  Just when I was about to do the exam, one of the staff members told me that one of my laces was undone.  I did't hear what he said at first, so I asked "What was that?" without terminating my question with his rank nor coming to attention while speaking.  Because of that, I was told to go back in line and do my exam after everybody else had done so.  When I came around again, things got worst.  When I was marching, I was told to turn to one side but, because of the acoustics of the drill hall, I didn't hear whether it was left or right.  I turned left (50% chance of being correct), but I had been asked to turn right.  Then my marching got all out of sync to a ridiculous point.  All that would have been bad enough but was made worst by the fact that all my fellow trainees had already completed their exam and were now staring at me bombing mine.  That was the lowest point of my basic training.  I, along with seven other recruits, failed that first pass.  We had remedial training that day and did the test again.  We eventually all passed.  Essentially, the system is "rigged" so that nobody can fail.  So I really didn't feel too hot not to have passed at my first attempt.

The seventh weekend, we had our weapon handling test.  I feel confident with the rifle, so this exam did not make me nervous.  However, during the exam itself, I forgot one safety precaution for one procedure.  That's an automatic fail.  So, again, I had to do a second pass before I successfully completed the exam.  That safety precaution is now forever ingrained in my mind.  Later that day, I read and signed my progress report from the previous week (which, after the drill incident, was bound to be bad).  Again, not the best weekend.  That Saturday, we were let go for the night as the unit where training is conducted was holding some dinner event.  Six of us from our section rented a suite nearby.  This was way more comfortable than sleeping in a cot in the armoury.  The next day, we learned about chemical, biological, radioactive and nuclear warfare.  We now have to wear our gas mask pouch on us at all times.  Whenever an instructor yells out "Gas!  Gas!  Gas!", we have to put our gas mask on (and our full hazmat "bunny suit" if we have it around too).  At the end of the day, while in such a simulated gas attack, we were told to bring our gear back to a specified room.  Then, when we did just that, we were asked who told us that the gas was clear and we were ordered to put the full gear back on.  Basically, the staff was toying with us.  The staff was yelling at us like a bunch of mad dogs.  I had a master corporal barking right at me while I was donning my gear.  It was a somewhat stressful way to end the weekend.

The eighth weekend, we went to the Jericho garrison for our training as the armoury where we usually train was holding another event.  Because of that, we didn't have training on Friday night.  We came in at 7:30, had breakfast and did two written exams.  Then, we spent the whole day learning the theory of land navigation with a map and compass.  We were let go around 17:00 and were allowed to go sleep back home.  The next day was much the same.  However, on Sunday, I was course senior.  That means that it was my turn to be the liaison between the students and the staff.  That's normally a position that comes added responsibilities and stress.  However, given that we were not in our usual armoury, we didn't have to do station duties (such as cleaning tables, the bathrooms and the floors) and the members of the staff I had to deal with were very relaxed.  I got off easy.

On the ninth weekend, we went close to Chilliwack (about an hour and a half east of Vancouver) to practice land navigation in a wooded setting.  We slept in big tents holding short of 20 people each.  Saturday morning, we had an overview of some field equipment such as gas stoves and lamps and some information on field hygiene.  There are no showers on the field, so that changes one's approach to cleanliness somewhat.  The rest of the day and evening was spent doing navigation.  The weather could not have been better.  Warm, sunny day followed by a clear, moonlit night.  We saw many deer.  It felt like a vacation of sorts.  Before going to bed, we were shown a white phosphorous flare and told how it could be used to zone in on enemies trying to approach a camp.  The next day, we went to a gas hut to get tear-gased.  This exercised was to gauge our ability to use the gas mask and gear.  We went in three times.  The first time just to confirm that we donned the gear on properly.  The second time to test drinking with a gas mask on (through a special tube that connects to our canteen) and replacing our mask's canister.  The third time was a bit more interesting.  It involved us walking in the gas hut without our mask on and putting it on only once we started feeling the effects of the tear gas.  For the first five seconds, it didn't affect me that much.  Then, just as I was beginning to think I might be immune to the effects, it hit me like a ton of bricks.  It really hurt.  Imagine having wasabi stuffed down your nose and eyes.  That's what it felt like.  Opening my eyes was close to impossible.  I fumbled a bit because of the pain and put my mask on.  With the mask on, it took about five minutes before the pain dissipated.  That was quite the experience.  After the gas hut, we headed back to Vancouver and unloaded the truck that carried the material we used on the field.  While doing that, a very beautiful mother came and asked us if she could take a picture of us with her two children.  We obliged.  Actually, downtown, many people took pictures of us.  Finally, I took the bus back home.  On it, a weirdo started talking to me.  The uniform attracts attention.  It also bounds you to be polite and considerate beyond reproach as it represents the Canadian Forces.  Because of that, I had to chat with the individual on the bus.

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.

Fourth Weekend of Basic Training

Again, I walked from home to the armoury with all of my kit on me to start my fourth weekend of basic training.  Friday evening, we had some marching and weapons drill practice.  We also had to meet, one by one, the course warrant officer and the course officer to let them know how we were doing and to get some feedback from them.  The course officer used to be a software engineer so he was interested in my civilian career.

Saturday morning, we had physical training outside in civilian gear.  It was -7 Celsius.  This is outrageously cold for Vancouver.  Many people didn't bring more than a t-shirt and a pair of shorts for PT.  After experiencing such cold, I'm sure they will bring more gear next time.  We jogged and did sprints for about 40 minutes before coming back in.  After PT, we had breakfast followed by our morning inspection.  Then, it was a whole day of class.  Topics covered varied from ethics and military ethos to dealing with interpersonal conflict and basic radio communications.  That night my section volunteered for fire picket duty so that we would have time to clean our weapons while being night sentries.

Sunday morning, we had a light rucksack "forced march".  The morning inspection was done by the course warrant officer and was done to a uniform standard across not only sections, but the whole platoon.  That didn't go too well as one section was completely different from the others.  Since it was the first section to be inspected though, all the other sections were deemed to be out of standard.  The rest of the day was spent revising marching drill, learning how to deal with hazardous material, learning new marching drill with weapons (which managed to get me confused) and learning how to deals with rifle stoppages.

Third Week of Basic Training

The third weekend of my basic training was not as demanding physically as the second one, but it was more exacting overall nonetheless as instructors turned up the heat again.  On Friday, another guy was selected to be our section senior.  At first, he didn't seem quite comfortable with the role because as soon as we started referring to him as "section senior" and started asking him for instructions, he felt sick and actually went to the bathroom to deal with nausea and / or vomit!  But then things got back into place and he was able to go on.

Saturday morning, we did some physical training which consisted of crossfit-ish activities such as push-ups, leg raises, boxed jumps, burpees, doing the "moutain climber", planking and running around.  After half an hour of that, we stretched and cooled off before taking showers and getting dressed for the day.  Because of the lack of showers, as soon as the single female recruit is done taking hers, guys go the women's bathroom to take showers.  After each meal, each of the four sections of 9-10 individuals has to take care of one of the assigned tasks:  cleaning the tables, cleaning the floors, emptying the garbage cans, and cleaning the bathrooms.  This weekend, my section had the bathrooms.  After eating and cleaning, we had to get ready for our morning inspection.  This time around, the instructors really went into town.  For example, my duffle bag was zipped up and all its buttons were done up and its handles were laid up on top of it.  However, the handles were not tied together.  Because of this, I had to hold my duffle bag in front of me with extended arms for twenty minutes while the staff carried on with the inspection of the rest of my section.  Needless to say, my muscles failed.  Eventually, my section commander replaced the bag with my riffle.  This was lighter, so I could manage to hold my arms out with only that charge.  Still, it was far from pleasant.  After a total of half an hour, I can assure you I was very relieved when I was finally allowed to take my arms down.  But that relief was short lived as we were then ordered as a section to do planks.  Other teams had their share of fun too.  One section had a sergeant flip all the cots (with lots of equipment on them) over the floor and scream his lungs out at them.  I also saw and heard many boots fly around.  That was quite the start to the day.

Thankfully, the rest of Saturday was more relaxed.  We had classes on compensation and benefits with the Canadian Armed Forces, on the Canadian Honours System (orders, decorations and medals), and on physical and mental well-being.  This last part felt a bit a bit touchy-feely.  But at least we learned about available resources should we ever experience difficulties.  Also, an instructor gave an account of his personal experience with PTSD after returning from Afghanistan.  I am thankful for that as his testimony was much more real and informative than any video or text can be.  That night, we were told to go to bed half and hour earlier than usual.  I didn't get to benefit fully from that night, though, as I had fire picket duty.

Me on fire picket duty

The next morning, we were told to wake up 15 minutes later than usual.  Then we had another "forced march", this time with a small backpack filled with equipment on our backs.  After coming back, we were told to take a shower, get dressed and be ready for breakfast in 15 minutes instead of our usual half hour.  After breakfast, we had our morning inspection.  Because of the extra 45 minutes of sleep and because our time was cut in half to get ready after breakfast, our inspection turned out to be disastrous.  I'm pretty sure that is what was intended by the instructors.  So we got yelled at for half an hour.  Once that was over, we moved on to a morning of training on marksmanship and riffle combat drill.  After lunch, we had marching drill, this time with our weapons.  Finally, we were let go early this Sunday (shortly after 4 pm).  Maybe this had something to do with the Super Bowl.

Second Weekend of Basic Training

After receiving my full kit of gear and clothing at my unit and having a weekend off, my basic training resumed.  The heat was turned up a bit on this second weekend of training.  Right after coming in on Friday night, we had a physical training session which consisted of various exercises, most of them focusing on the legs.  It was quite painful for me as I had gone to the gym earlier that day and had worked out my legs.  The innumerable squats and lunges we had to do that night were grueling.  That weekend, I volunteered to be my section's senior.  That means that throughout the weekend, I was to have increased responsibilities such as communicating and insuring the completion of requests from the staff.  One of my tasks consisted of writing a fire picket roster.  When the instructors saw my list, they judged my handwriting to be so bad that the whole class had to do push-ups.  After that, I had other people transcribe my notes to the staff.

Before going to bed, we had some time to get our kit ready for the following morning inspection.  We usually joke around a bit when we have "almost-free" time like this.  A guy in my section took a picture of another, modified it with an app on his phone and, wanting to send it to another section member, mistakenly sent it to a member of the course staff!  This was both hilarious and scary (because of the potential fallout).  [The following week, the recruit who sent the picture was "written up" and had to write a 250-word essay on ranks and discipline.]

Picture mistakenly sent

This time, we had cots to sleep in.  However, I didn't get to use mine too much on the first night because I was assigned "fire picket" duty and had to stay awake as a sentry.  As a result, I only went to bed at 3:30 am.  Then, at 4:00 am, the idiot in my section woke me up to know who he should wake up to replace him as fire picket sentry while it was completely clear who it should be.  In fact, it was so clear that even he managed to figure it out (only seconds after asking me).  Then, at 5:00 am, it was time to wake up for the day.

At 5:30, we went out on a walk with our combat uniforms, tactical vests and helmets on.  This was our first so-called "forced march".  We will have many until we get to one in which we'll have to carry 25.4 kg (just short of 60 lbs) of equipment over 13 km under two hours and 24 minutes.  This weekend's march was peppered with some other exercises.  I was already hungry the night before because of all the exercise.  The march made me even hungrier.  We came back around 6:30 and had to shower and get ready for breakfast at 7:00.  We all ate like ogres.  At 7:30, we had a kit inspection and got yelled at until past 8:00.  As section senior, I had to note down the deficiencies of my section's members so that they be addressed in the future and tracked by the instructors.  The rest of the day, we did some marching drill and learned about the administrative and disciplinary measures that can be taken to address behavior and performance issues with members of the Canadian Forces.  We also learned how to properly use many of our kits items such as rucksacks and sleeping bags.  Then we got basics about Canadian military law and how to treat / be treated as prisoners of wars.

The next morning, we had a physical training session outside, which consisted mostly of torturing our already sore legs.  For 40 minutes, we ran up and down stairs, hopped up stairs, did stationary wall squats (not pleasant), stationary leg raises and a plethora of other exercises.  Then, back in the armoury, we stretched and did some yoga-esque cooling off.  Following breakfast, we did the most complicated marching drill session to date and then moved on to learning more about the C7 rifle.  Before lunch, we were told that we weren't fast enough and that we were wasting the staff's time.  As punishment, we had to eat on the floor on our bellies with our tactical vests and helmets on, facing away from each other.  Usually meals are some of the most fun parts of the weekend.  This one wasn't.  We finished the day learning more C7 material (how to clean the rifle, how to adjust the scope, how to load/unload magazine and so on).  Throughout the day, we felt pain in our midsection from all the planking and stationary leg raises as well as in our quadriceps.

Boot Camp Begins!

This last weekend was the first of my 11-weekend part-time basic training with the Canadian Armed Forces (i.e. my boot camp).  I must admit that I felt nervous before starting because of the unknowns and because of how some of the people back at my home unit described boot camp as a highly unpleasant experience.  At any rate, I showed up at the British Columbia Regiment armoury in downtown Vancouver slightly before 19:00 on Friday.  The location has special meaning for me because a few months ago I lived right in front of that building.  Once inside, we registered in and were divided into four sections of about nine individuals each.  Each section was then assigned a section commander and a second in command from the training staff.  These assigned staff members then guided us through the inventory and labeling of our equipment (which I have yet to receive) and instructed us to write autobiographies to get to know more about us.  I was also told never to bring the Canadian Forces boots I had bought at a surplus to training again.  Mixing of military (or even military-looking) gear with civilian gear is frowned upon.

At 23:00, it was lights out.  We slept in the sleeping bags that are part of our equipment kit.  Those were placed on the kit air mattresses which themselves lay right on the armoury floor.  The vast majority of us didn't get good sleep that night.  It's hard to sleep in such an odd place as an armoury especially when surrounded by 36 other people and when an extremely noisy heating system kicks in and out every five minutes.  All nights, two recruits must stay awake to perform "fire picket" duty (that is, to keep watch).  The recruits are relieved by two others every hour.  This isn't too bad if you get the first or last shift, but totally disrupts your night otherwise.

Saturday, we were given an extra half hour of sleep and got up only at 5:30.  We had a morning inspection to make sure we were properly shaved, groomed and dressed, and that our kit was in order.  Given that we only have two showers for 36 guys (the single female recruit gets a bathroom to herself), I just skipped my shower that morning - as many did for that matter.  After the inspection, we were told to wash our hands and to line up for breakfast.  Before getting breakfast, we had to do five chin-ups.  For the vast majority, that was nothing.  But for some it was clearly a challenge.  For them, basic training will be hard and long (if they make it through).  Breakfast was pretty hefty and was served by the training staff.  When it was my time, I was asked whether I wanted pancake or French toast.  I said "French toast" but the master corporal gave me a pancake.  When he was giving me the pancake, I thought he was making a mistake and I repeated "French toast".  He didn't change a thing, just smiled and said "Here's your French toast".  I wonder if the reason he purposefully gave me the pancake was just to randomly screw with me or whether it's because I only said "French toast" instead of "French toast, master corporal".

After breakfast, we had classes on the rights, obligations and objectives of military personnel in Canada; on the rank structure and on what to do in case of fire.   Those falling asleep were instructed to follow the classes while standing at the back.  We were also introduced to the notion of rotating section and course seniors, who are recruits with increased responsibilities with regards to the flow of activities of the course candidates.  Lunch was again very generous.  The portions given are always bigger than what I generally eat.  However, I haven't taken the chance not to eat my whole plates so far.  Despite that, I have always had dessert because there are so many options to choose from and I have a sweet tooth.  We were also told that if we left an empty juice container at the drinks table, it would be 100 push-ups.  After lunch, we practiced drill.  I now know what part of basic training I like the least.  After dinner, we were each issued a C7 rifle (a variation of the M16) and were told to memorize its serial number and never let it get out of arm's reach.  All recruits had one-on-one meetings with their section commanders or second in commands to discuss the contents of the autobiographies and exchange feedback.  After the lights were out, I went to shave (so as not to have to do it at the same time as everybody else in the morning) and then managed to find a thermostat that controls half of the heating system in the armoury.  However, with one half shut down, the other half was still more than enough to be disturbing.  Undisturbed, though, was the guy sleeping right next to me.  He was snoring, which only compounded my personal difficulty to fall asleep.

At 5:00 on Sunday, it was time to wake up.  We put on PT clothing.  I had a t-shirt and sweat pants on.  Others had similar outfits or were wearing shorts.  Then, when we were told we would start PT with a run outside, I understood we wouldn't get the chance to put more clothes on before doing so.  It was the first time I ever ran a few kilometers in a 3 or 4 degrees environment.  At first, it goes without saying that it was chilly.  After a while, the running itself gave me enough heat to tolerate the cold better.  Still, next time, I'll put gloves in my sweat pants' pockets and will wear something with long sleeves rather than a t-shirt for PT.  Back from the run, we did as many push-ups as we could in two minutes, then as many sits-up as we could in two minutes and then planked for as long as we could.  This was to assess our fitness and, I'm guessing, to use as personal benchmarks for future comparison.  After PT, we were ordered to take a shower, shave, dress and be ready for breakfast.  We were given 30 minutes to do so.  There are only two showers.  We are 36 guys.  Needless to say, this was a massive dose of unsought "intimacy".  Also, with so many people taking showers, the hot water ran out.  Even if you had all the time in the world to shower, you wouldn't want to take it.  At breakfast, there was a choice of pancake and waffle.  I wanted a waffle.  But I wasn't asked for my preference and was given pancake again.  With rifles assigned to us, meals are different.  Every time there is a meal, we all line up our weapons in one area and two recruits are posted as weapons sentries to watch over them.  Two relief sentries are chosen and eat before everyone else.  As soon as they finish, they go replace the first sentries who can now go eat.

After breakfast, my favorite part of the weekend came around.  We had training on the C7 rifle:  its specifications, how to handle it, how to ensure it contains no bullets, how to disassemble it, how to re-assemble it, and how to ensure it is in working order.  After that, we had to clean the bathroom and do drill again.  Finally, we cleared and cleaned the armoury (so that it can be used by its unit during the week) before being dismissed until the following weekend.  The first weekend was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.  Then again, the instructors did tell us they were trying to assess whether being relatively permissive and lenient on the first weekend would lead to better outcomes in the future weekends, when they will turn up the heat.  After leaving the armoury, I felt free like a prisoner would feel when being released from jail.  Walking back home, the next thing I noticed is how many (beautiful) women there are in "the real world".

These are the main points of the weekend's schedule.  However, a big part of what made the weekend special was the interaction with the people.  First, there is the staff.  They obviously are there to instruct you and give you a harsh time.  I am happy that my section's staff is focused more on instructing than on giving us a hard time.  Some instructors are tougher than others and we get flak for an increasing amount of reasons from most of them.  Meals are nice occasions to socialize with fellow recruits.  I can see myself becoming friends with many of them.  Going to the bathroom can also present a social aspect.  We are 36 guys and there is only a single toilet bowl.  Once I went in the bathroom to pee and this guy was taking a dump and being very loud and vocal about it.  Others in the bathroom peeing or brushing their teeth had various reactions.  The whole thing felt like a sociology experiment.  One guy said "Dégeulasse!", which is French for "Disgusting!".  Originally being from Montreal, I talked to him in French.  I didn't expect to meet another guy from Quebec in my basic training.  He's the only one I know in Vancouver.  Our whole group is blessed by the presence of a man who already served in the Canadian Forces decades ago.  He decided to come back and has to do basic training again because his former training lapsed.  He's a treasure trove of helpful hints and indications on what to do to smoothly perform during training and beyond.  Another person who stands out is the only female recruit.  I'm afraid she doesn't stand out for the right reasons.  She's in her mid-forties and was way behind everybody else in the morning run.  She's training to be an officer but doesn't seem to have the combination of energy, motivation, stamina, knowledge and leadership to fulfill that role properly.

Of course, the closest relationships are those with members of one's own section.  The guys in my section are pretty much all decent.  Most are actually pretty cool and would/will surely make great friends outside training.  We are nine in my section.  If I said pretty much all are decent, it's because one isn't.  He's the class' "Gomer Pyle".  He can't dress properly no matter how many times he gets his appearance flagged and no matter how much the section tries to help him.  Despite the instructors repeating many times for him, he cannot strip/re-assemble his C7 rifle properly.  He's often missing or late when his presence is required and seems to be overwhelmed and lacking in motivation.  On the second night, before falling asleep, he told me he was homesick and missed his mom!  (I am not kidding)  I doubt he will make it through basic training.  In my opinion, the sooner he quits the better.  He is currently a liability to the section and the whole class.  Also, I absolutely would not feel comfortable with a guy like him carrying weapons or representing the Forces.  Still, as long as he's in my section, I'll try to instill some sense into him and limit the drag he brings to the group.  That being said, I have to reiterate that the vast majority of the guys in the class seem like capable, hard-working fellows.  I even overhead one instructor saying to another that our class was pretty good.  So, with some effort, the wrinkles will get ironed out, and this will prove to be an enriching experience.

Enrollment & The Start of My Military Career

In 2013, I applied to become a reserve officer with the 39th Combat Engineer Regiment in North Vancouver.  I'm writing how the recruiting process went for me both to share my experience with others in case that proves useful for someone, and also as a reminder for myself of these events.

I've always been drawn to the military.  As a boy, I felt like many others a playful desire to be a soldier.  As a teenager, I noticed that desire faded in most.  However, I still was fascinated by the armed forces.  As a young adult, though, I chose a civilian engineering career.  Engineering because I like technology and civilian because I enjoy my freedom.  As years went by, I felt I wanted more than a regular office job.  I came to consider joining the reserve to realize a dream of mine without sacrificing what I had achieved so far.

After spending much time on www.forces.gc.ca, army.ca and various other sites pertaining to the military, I finally applied online on 2013-03-19.  Then, for a couple of months, nothing happened.  Once a recruiting form is submitted online, no feedback is available at all for quite a while.  However, on online forums I learned this is normal and that the only thing to do at this point is wait.  So this is what I did.  Then, in June, I got a call from a recruiter from a squadron located at the other end of the province trying to confirm that I wanted to join that squadron.  After explaining to her that she was mistaken and that there must have been some miscommunication, she told me someone else would be contacting me shortly.  A week or two later, a member of the New Westminster Canadian Forces Recruiting Centre contacted me.  He told me that as a reserve applicant, it was my responsibility to contact the reserve units myself to find out whether they had open positions and then to go apply in person at the unit that interests me the most.  I found it strange that no centralized tally of open reserve positions was being kept, but I proceeded to contact all the units that interested me.

From the get-go, I wanted to have the role of Engineer Officer.  Very few officer positions are open in the reserves.  I was lucky that one was with the 39th Combat Engineer Regiment in North Vancouver.  The recruiting officer there told me that I had to meet her at the North Vancouver armoury to proceed further.  When I went there, I had to sign a statement of understanding to attest that I knew what I was attempting to get into.  I was also told there was some problem with the online application system and that it wasn't really being used.  Because of that and despite what is written on the Forces' official website, the way to go was to submit all the forms at the reserve unit.  I had to re-fill and re-submit everything that night.  I also had to provide all my supporting documents (birth certificate, transcripts, etc.) again.  Good thing I had brought them with me.

Then, essentially nothing happened for the next two months.  I would have gotten no feedback at all again if I had not emailed the unit recruiter a few times.  It is worth mentioning that recruiters don't seem to have business cards.  So if you want to communicate with them, you should make sure to ask them for contact information.  Another way to get a hold of someone is to remember that usually the email address of Forces members is of the following form:  first_name.last_name@forces.gc.ca.  So two months later, I was scheduled to write the CFAT.

The CFAT is taken at your local recruiting center.  Upon arrival and before writing the CFAT, the candidates have their paperwork double-checked.  Some will need to make corrections.  Also, the candidates have to fill a form regarding past and current (recreational) drug use.  Then, it's on to the test itself.  The CFAT consists of three parts:  a vocabulary section, a spatial section and a mathematical section.  I have written the GMAT before.  I would say that the CFAT vocabulary and math sections are easier than that of the GMAT.  Another way to put it is that those who feel the need to prepare for the CFAT can use GMAT preparation material.  Having prepared extensively for the GMAT, I did well on that test.  Thus, I went through the CFAT's vocabulary and math sections with ease.  However, the GMAT doesn't have a spatial ability section.  For this reason, I found myself less prepared for this section of the CFAT.  One note:  making sure to give a decent stab at all the questions is better than getting sucked into spending too much time on any one figure and lacking time to properly analyze others at the end.  Right after doing the test, you will be told whether you got a score sufficient for the position for which you applied.  If you did, you will be scheduled for a medical test.  At any rate, you will also be reimbursed for your transportation to the Canadian Forces Recruiting Centre.  This will not be the case your future trips to the recruiting center.

I was booked for my medical two days after my CFAT.  The medical started with a questionnaire on my health history.  Then my height and weight were measured.  Following that, I was given a vision and color test.  For the last element of the first half of the medical test, I entered an acoustically sealed chamber and did a hearing test.  For the second half of the medical test, I moved to another room.  This part of the process at first resembled what you'd expect from a regular medical check-up:  breathing in and out with a stethoscope on your chest, opening your mouth and saying "ah", having the person peak into your ears and so on.  However, in addition to this, I was asked to do a few movements such as a couple of push-ups, touching my toes with my fingers, crouching, "walking like a duck" while crouched in an odd way.  This is to verify that you have no handicap in your range of motion.  I'm happy to report that throughout the whole medical exam, I got to keep my shorts on.  No one played with my balls on inserted anything anywhere uncomfortable.  I was also surprised that I didn't have to provide any blood or urine sample.  I thought the Forces would have wanted to run some basic tests on those and also screen for drugs.  I was told that in the past there were so many false positives with those tests that it wasn't worth bogging down the medical recruiting staff unless there was a reason to believe such tests were necessary.  In addition, random drug tests can be administered at any time while you are serving.

After the medical, the next step is the physical test.  I was told however that the person who was conducting physical testing at this recruiting center had recently left and that I would not be able to do the physical until a replacement was found.  I was told this could take a while but was assured that I would be contacted as soon as a replacement was found.  One month later, having gotten no news, I contacted my file manager at the recruiting center to know whether they had found a replacement.  She told me one had been found... a few weeks ago!  Good thing I checked up on my file or I might just have fallen into the cracks.  So I ended up doing my physical test a bit over a month after my medical.  The physical was essentially the EXPRES test:  cardio, push-ups, sit-ups, hand grip.  The guy who oversaw my physical test was strongly reminiscent of Bill Murray.

A few weeks after completing the physical, I was scheduled for a job interview.  The officer who gave me the interview reviewed my file, asked a few standard HR-ish questions from a form he was filling on me and made me sign some papers.  Some of the questions I was asked were "Why do you want to join the Forces?", "Why the reserve and not the regular Forces?", "Why did you choose the specific occupation you did?".  The papers I had to sign included a statement saying that I accepted to be subjected to military law and an affirmation that I would not use illegal drugs.

Then, I thought I was out of the woods but I wasn't quite yet.  I informed the recruiting officer at my local combat engineer squadron that I was all processed and awaited further instructions from her.  She told me that it wasn't certain there was an Engineer Officer position available after all.  Needless to say, I found it quite strange that candidates would be sent through the whole recruiting process if it isn't clear that there is a need for them.  Thankfully, a few weeks later I was informed that I was now authorized to be enrolled.  However there was still one last hitch.  I wasn't guaranteed a spot on the next basic training session.

Regardless, I showed up at 6 Engineer Squadron's armoury on 2013-12-12 to be sworn in.  That night, I had loads more of paperwork to complete before being sworn in.  Then, I pledged allegiance to the Queen of England in a solemn affirmation that marked my official enrollment in the Canadian Forces.  One interesting point:  because I joined through the direct entry officer program, I was enrolled as an Officer Cadet with an immediate promotion to the rank of Second Lieutenant.  This is common for DEO officers, but I still find it strange that just because one has a bachelor's degree, one can get commissioned without even having completed basic training.  At any rate, following the swearing in, my body measurements were taken in order to get gear that fits me.  Finally, I got to enjoy a few drinks in the mess after having completed my first three paid hours in the army that night.

All in all, it took roughly nine months for me to get in the army.  Throughout the whole process, the information I got from various sources (for example, the Forces' official website, the recruiting center personnel, my squadron's recruiter) was inconsistent if not outright contradictory.  I am told this is the norm and that my processing time was actually quite decent.  I am saying this so that those considering joining understand that the army isn't an efficient corporation but rather an arm of the government.

On the bright side, I got enrolled two days before the holiday party and got to enjoy a memorable experience then.  (Think military ceremony mixed with alcohol, a good meal, rough games and getting to know the people in my squadron)  Also, shortly after, I learned that my spot for the upcoming basic training has been confirmed.

I'm looking forward to learning new skills, experiencing life from another angle and contributing to the Forces.