Me and Mr. Jones … (we got a thing going on.)

Amy Winehouse (bless her troubled talented soul) sang the great lyrics and they’re ringing true for me.

It’s only been one date but , but just like a lovesick teenager, I think Me and Mr. Jones have something special going on.

And talk about chemistry, it didn’t just start with sparks it was a bang, quite literally.

I’m of course talking about my gun and our first live firing exercise.

I was nervous about our “first time” together, never having shot a gun before.

I also missed the blank firing drill designed to give us all an idea of how strong the gun’s kickback would be.

So with sweaty palms and heart beating I took my position on the ground, Mr. Jones loaded and ready to go by my side.

I hesitated, then finally found the courage to pull the trigger “bang” it was over in less than a second..

Mr Jones was gentler than I was anticipating, and I went back for more.

Our “first time” was over in a flash but found an almost perfect score, with five of the ten bullets hitting the bull’s eye 150 meters away.

I topped the 100-strong class with my 91 points out of 100 earning a “good result” from my very serious lieutenant, and the envy of all the boys.

Love at first sight? It could be, i’ll keep you posted.

In the meantime I am memorising Mr. Jone’s number off by heart.

Sgt. (sniper) Sana.

    

Me and Mr. Jones.

Lipas valmis - "magazine ready"

Mr. Jones taking a well deserved rest.

Sunday’s sing-along service.

Who needs TV when you have your very own Finnish pop idol on hand?

The only television I have seen in ten days was on Saturday when our company was given permission to watch a film before bed.

After making myself as comfortable on the cold concrete staircase I realised the movie was in Spanish with Finnish subtitles. I went to bed.

So on Sunday it was a real treat to be serenaded by Pete Parkkonen at the so-called religious service we had to attend.

Pete, also a conscript at Santahamina, delivered an SMS vote-worthy performance, opening with The Beatles classic ‘Let it Be’.

He sang a funky blues rendition of ‘Amazing Grace’, complete with backing keys that would not have been out of place on Eric Clapton’s Unplugged.

And a rather puzzling, but impassioned, cover of Lenny Kravitz’ Stand by Your Woman.

But it wasn’t just the real-life duke box that made this service such a memorable one.

Most Finnish people officially belong to the Lutheran church*, but there ‘s a saying that the forest is the place of worship.

Quite literally. There we were seated under the trees at the water’s edge where “the church” is nothing more than a simple wooden cross.

The Helsinki skyline, including the Lutheran cathedral and harbor, was visible in the distance, while yachts sailed through the frame.

With the warm sun on my face it was truly a picture-postcard view.

It was a welcome change from a week spent staring at the back of conscripts’ sweaty necks, as we were marched in lines here there and everywhere.

Thoughts of a doggy-paddle escape across the waters did, momentarily however, did cross my mind.

At the end of the service we took a very unorthodox and welcomed communion consisting of shaving crème, razors and camouflage bible.

While I am far from converted, it was the most enjoyable religious service I have attended.

And a possible insight into how the rocking for Jesus Hill Song folk back home have become such a strong religious force, complete with their own Aussie idol Guy Sebastian.

Hmm maybe there’s more to this than meets the eye … I’ll keep you posted.

Sgt. Sana.

 

Poster boy Pete Parkkonen.

Week 1; where did it go?

“In the Army Now” echoed throughout the dining hall as we lined up for breakfast 06:00am Tuesday morning.

The conscripts arrived on Monday but the afternoon was one of paper formalities, and an introductory marching lesson.

We also collected a giant sack of military gear, including undies, we struggled to carry back to our tupas (rooms).

So the “new paradigm” only sunk in with Status Quo’s classic tune.

Dressed in my khaki’s, there I was, along with my 100-strong* Jaeger (light infantry) regiment, wet, hungry, dazed and confused.

Half an hour earlier we received a far-from-friendly wake up call over the PA system by the pavystaja, person on duty.

My new alarm clock was almost as loud as the thunder that cracked through the pouring rain we marched through to breakfast.

The routine had begun.

The Finn’s have two words for the routine – kiire odottamaan – basically translated to always being in a hurry to wait.

It sums up the first week of military service, as we were continuously lined up and marched everywhere, even to brush our teeth.

We also endured endless lectures, on topics from cleaning to military structure and history.

I know this because some of my fellow conscripts, very confused by my presence, kindly translated from Finnish.

There were official photographs, physical examinations and the pleasant experience of receiving vaccine shots simultaneously in both arms.

The highlight was being introduced to my assault rifle, the RK-95 Rynnäkkökivääri, which I have affectionately named Bob (aka Mr Jones).

More about me and Mr Jones to come …

The first week has been a jammed-packed blur of days rolled into one another, with very very limited free time.

I am also very tired, but I think I am supposed to be.

That said, in my sleep-deprived state I am starting to settle in; always keeping in mind the two words printed on the front of the Foreign Conscript’s Guidebook.

DON”T PANIC!

I can’t help but wonder if this is in reference to the words that also appear on the front of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

Just like Douglas Adams’ classic tale I have no idea what is in front of me but it’s sure going to be one hell of a ride.

Sgt. Sana

My new home, the 3JK army barracks at Santahamina, Helsinki.

Day 1.

It’s feels like the first day of school all over again.

Up early after a restless night’s sleep, I have no appetite for breakfast as the butterflies set in.

My grandpa accompanies me to the station to make sure I actually get on the train.

Groups of shaved-head young men are also waiting at the station, nervously chatting and smoking, conscription papers in hand.

Their proud mothers insist on taking photos and girlfriends wipe away tears, distraught they won’t see their men for at least three weeks. I giggle.

We are taking the early train to Helsinki, despite the fact we have been given a 16:00 deadline for roll-call.

I plan on arriving around midday to allow enough time to try on my new wardrobe, and accessories, I’m told this season is shades of green.

The conscript handbook warns a late arrival will “cause problems for those receiving you and yourself”.

As a female conscript who can’t speak the language, punctuality is crucial.

The manual also advises not to make oneself “the object of attention” by arriving intoxicated, noting that drunkenness in a soldier is “punishable”.

This warning is accompanied with a photograph of a very stern looking captain, he scares me, and I think that’s the point.

So, while my weekend was far from sober my arrival to base will be.

I’m not sure if the same will apply for all, I’ll soon find out.

Sgt. Sana.

 

   

The final countdown; goodbye my old gold friend.

Like many new recruits I spent the last few days of civilian life in an alcohol-enhanced state, contemplating my imminent conscription.

Aware that I will be stuck on base during the first three weeks of boot camp, I decided to spend the weekend in the company of a big beer.

I wanted to savor the taste of the beverage I will miss during my enforced sobriety.

My mission took me five hours north of Helsinki for Finland’s longest-running beer festival Oluset*, in Iisalmi..

Joined by thousands of thirsty Finns, it was a fitting farewell to my social (beer loving) life, played out to a soundtrack of old school Finnish rock music

Beret-wearing boys, celebrating the end of their military service, were among the crowd.

Their enthusiasm was slightly unsettling but my big beer helped to take the edge off my last minute military nerves.

The subsequent hangover and sleep deprivation also helped distract from my next assignment, Day 1 Santahamina, when the real thirsty work begins.

Sgt. Sana.

* Finns consume a lot of  beer, called olut, namely pale ales. The Oluset festival has been running annually since 1988 (three years my junior). The festival is organised by the company Olvi, which is the last big independent brewery in Finland, based in Iisalmi. Other popular brands, including Karhu and Lapin Kulta, are owned by multinationals.

        

      

Meanwhile in Turku.

A link to a story I wrote for the Finnish Embassy in Canberra about the expatriate festival in Turku.

http://www.finland.org.au/public/default.aspx?contentid=224555&nodeid=35603&contentlan=2&culture=en-US

Pea and ham soup Thursdays – a taste of what’s to come?

I hope so! Because if it’s anything likewhat I had for lunch at the old cavalry barracks in Mikkeli*, eastern Finland, I won’t be going to bunk hungry.

The wooden barracks, the headquarters used by the Finnish army during WWII, are now home to an infantry museum*.

Complete with cafe kasarmi-style (pron cass-arm-me)* that serves hungry and nostalgic visitors typical garrison meals.

The set menu, so I’m informed, hasn’t changed much since my grandpa’s conscription in the early1950s.

So, Thursday’s means pea and ham soup followed by pancakes with strawberry jam.

I was keen to try this odd culinary combination ahead of my own conscription.

And the verdict of my self-serve lunch that set me back just 5.5 euros?

Success! A warm and hearty meal that is sure to keep any trooper soldiering on.

Well, almost any trooper.

Ironically, as we slurped our pea and ham soup, my grandpa shared his proven strategy of avoiding the dish he despised during conscription.

Volunteering as a kitchen hand on Thursday’s allowed unguarded access to the pancake supply, he explained.

And so it was, my grandpa took on the unofficial role of quality assurance officer, presiding over each batch.

This tip could prove useful when I am served liver-box or the Finnish fish soup made with milk also on the army menu.

Even the thought ofof these dishes makes my stomach turn.

But who knows, many years down the track I, just like my grandpa, could be sharing memories of these meals over a bowl of warm milky fish soup.

Sgt. Sana

                                

                                  

* (Mikkeli (St Michel in Swedish) is a small city in the popular tourist lakes district of Finland. The city was heavily bombed in WWII, and most of the pre-war architecture was destroyed. Mikkeli’s wartime history is linked to Marshal Carl Mannerheim who commanded the Finnish Army through the infamous Winter War (1939-40). The railway carriage he used as a command post is still parked at the Mikkeli station.

* Jalkavakimuseo, infantry museum, is a small military museum that guides visitors through Finland’s modern wartime history, including the Civil, Winter, Continuation and Lapland wars.

http://www.jalkavakimuseo.fi/

* Kasarmi is the Finnish word for barracks. It is also the name of a reality TV show in Finland that follows a company of young conscripts.

http://www.mtv3.fi/kasarmi/

“The Call-Up”

It’s official, I’m in the army now.

Well, soon anyway, service official starts July 11, 2011. Post: Santahamina (pron Sahnta- hah-mean-ah) base, Helsinki.

I learned my fate during the conscript interview process known as “the call-up”*.

The army had wanted me to travel to Finland in April to undertake call-up, frustrating because my brother Matt and cousin Will as boys* had not been expected to partake in this interview process before they started service in January.

After several sharp “but isn’t Finland known for gender equality?” emails sent from my journalist account, a compromise was met and I was called on to attend a late interview on June 29.

The day finally arrived. I had pressed my white shirt, pinned my Australian/Finnish flag badge to its collar, and was looking pretty sharp.

I arrived at Santahamina base early just after 08:00 for a 9:00 interview. It wasn’t long before I realised the interview wasn’t just for me.

A trickle of young men, boys really, began to arrive after me, some came by bus others dropped off by their mums  – an embarrassing act for teenagers the world over.

Others drove themselves in big cars. Two were even accompanied by their girlfriends, who were not shy to publically expressed their love for one another*.

After half an hour the military policeman realised I too was here for call-up and sent me to wait with the group of rather unruly boys who were puffing away on their second and third cigarettes.

Lined up against the gate and identities checked, we were soon mini-bused inside the base to begin the call-up process.

Numbered, mine 25, we were instructed to sit down and wait. (I get the impression there will be alot of waiting around in the army)

Before I knew it Major Juhanni Raanto, a very fair and respectable man, pulled me aside for the day’s briefing (in English)

Here, in the privacy of the locker/sauna room, I learnt that :

–       I had been accepted to start in July, given there were three spots on garrison still open to women.

–       As a woman I will have 45 days grace period at the beginning of my service, during which time I can go home if I decide it’s just not for me.

–       But if I am dismissed for medical reasons after this time, I’m expected to return to Finland to complete service before turning 30, if fit to do so.

–       I was also reminded that I will be extra work for everyone, given I don’t speak Finnish.

–       And finally the process of the call-up was explained,  involving a visit to the doctor and a meeting with the interview panel.

Relieved that my trip half way across the world had not been made in haste, I returned to sit in my place among the rows of desks.

The major proceeded to explain the call-up process to the other conscripts in Finnish. He struggled however, to command the attention of some of the boys fixated on the TV at the front of the room  playing provocative booty-liscious videos on Finland’s MTV channel.

One-by-one we were called into the hallway where, again, we were told to wait in-line to see the doctor. It was here I realised these conscripts, many who were now onto their fifth and sixth cigarettes, were not as pleased as me to be here.

I later learned I was taking part of the late call-up round, where conscripts seek their C-papers – a pass-out of service*.

This should have clicked when the young lad ahead of me walked out of the doctor’s room celebrating his recreational drug taking exemption.

No wonder the doctor, and interview panel of three, while a little perplexed with me, had been very praising of my “positive attitude” and urged me to “stay healthy”.

Sgt. Sana.

01/07/11

*Call-up, according to the conscript manual, offers “guidance to conscripts, and health check ups are made before decisions about when and where service is to take place. But “persons residing abroad are not required to appear in person – but can manage their call up by proxy” except if you are a woman. Those residing abroad can also send their papers through to “the closest Finnish mission” which will forward them to Finland.

* Service for women is voluntary. The requirements for being accepted are Finnish citizenship, a good state of health and “other personal qualities” for military training.

* Be warned, Scandinavian summer time is a call to arms for lovers who are often seen passionately kissing at railway stations, shopping checkouts and aboard public transport.

* Less than three quarters of males reaching military age complete military service. Civilian service or jail for 12 months is an option, and the C-paper exemption for reasons including health, mental health and drug abuse.

Santahamina base, Helsinki.