Early dawn.
The sun hadn't even considered rising yet, but the instructor woke us up with her trademark scream—loud enough to shatter glass.
"WAKE UP! GET READY FOR FIELD TRAINING!"
I got up with hair like a sleeping lion and a brain that hadn't quite connected to reality yet.
A few minutes later, I stood in the field with the other soldiers.
"TODAY'S TRAINING IS SURVIVAL TRAINING!"
Ah… finally, the moment where we all get tortured outdoors.
No phone.No food.No skincare.
"Each team will be taken deep into the forest and left there. Your only goal: survive for three days and make it back to the barracks alive—preferably still sane."
We were divided into groups.
I got stuck in a team that was... unique, to say the least.
One person was overly optimistic.One was super pessimistic.Another was a chronic complainer.And me? I just wanted to sleep and pretend this was all a bad dream.
We were led into the forest.Surrounded by towering trees, weird bird sounds, and mosquitoes the size of broken promises.
Day One.
We tried making a fire.
Mr. Optimistic said, "We can do it! I've seen it on survival shows!"
Half an hour later, he had scorched the twigs and was coughing from all the smoke.
In the end, we did manage to light a fire—because Mr. Complainer had secretly smuggled in a flint stone.(Thank you, bro. Seriously.)
We ate some leaves that were supposedly edible.The taste?Like toilet paper soaked in swimming pool water.
Day Two.
Hunger kicked in hard.
Mr. Optimistic tried to catch a rabbit.Mr. Pessimistic said we'd die tomorrow.
Me? I just sat there, staring at the sky, imagining fried noodles and iced coffee.
Day Three.
We were about to give up when we finally managed to make a smoke signal and got rescued by the retrieval team.
We returned to the barracks, clothes torn, faces looking like we just auditioned for a zombie movie.
But…
We did it.
We survived.
We staggered back to the barracks, steps dragging, hearts feeling like half-cooked rice—fragile and filled with false hope.
Body odor?Don't even ask.I'm pretty sure even monsters would run away if they caught a whiff of us.
When we arrived, the instructors stared at us like we had just crawled out of the wilderness...Well, to be fair, we had.
"Welcome back. You passed."
That's it?
After three days of living like cavemen, eating leaves, and getting bitten by mosquitoes the size of toy airplanes?Just three words?
WELCOME.
BACK.
PASSED?
But as I stepped into the barracks, a miracle happened.
The dining table.
There was food.
Not leaves, not roots.
White rice.Clear soup.Fried eggs.And—oh God—there was chili sauce.
I almost cried.Tears welled up as I sat down and stared at the plate like I was seeing heaven itself.
The other soldiers looked the same—like kids who'd just been released from detention school.
We ate in total silence.
Only the sounds of spoons clinking, long deep breaths, and occasional whispers of, "Is... is this real?"
After eating, I headed straight for my bed.
I collapsed face-down, breathing in the scent of the mattress—which, after three days in the forest, smelled better than expensive perfume.
But just before I could fall asleep, someone walked by and muttered:
"Wow, you're not as weak as you look."
I turned my head.
It was that snarky guy from the next squad.I smiled sweetly and replied,
"And you're still alive too? Amazing—I honestly thought you'd end up as wolf snacks."
He went silent.And that night, I slept like i winning award but get a fool prized.