The humid air clung to the skin of the new recruits as they stepped off the ferry onto Pulau Tekong, the island that would be their home for Basic Military Training. Among them was Zhang Wei, a young man eager but apprehensive about the gruelling weeks ahead. The instructors were strict from the start, reminding them of the island’s rules. One directive stood out: no pork products were allowed, as Puala Tekong was considered a “Muslim” island.

During their initial briefing, the Company Sergeant Major addressed them in a grave tone. "Listen up, recruits. Some of the camps on this island were formerly Muslim graveyards. Therefore, out of respect, pork is not allowed on the premises." The CSM paused, looking each recruit in the eye. “If anyone has brought any contraband items such as cigarettes, alcohol, or pork, declare them now, and no punishment will be meted out.”

The room was silent. Zhang Wei, however, had a weakness for bak kwa, a popular barbecued pork delicacy. He hesitated, feeling the weight of the bak kwa in his bag. He almost wanted to admit and declare it, but the temptation was too strong. He knew he had hidden the bak kwa very well amongst his clothes and was confident that no one would find it. When the CSM ordered a bag inspection immediately after his warning, Zhang Wei's heart raced, but the bak kwa remained undetected.

That night, Zhang Wei carefully unwrapped a piece of bak kwa in the bathroom, savoring its rich, smoky flavor. After satisfying his craving, he hid the remaining pieces back amongst his underwear, confident that his secret was safe. Exhausted from the day’s rigorous training, he quickly fell asleep.

The barracks were silent save for the occasional rustle of sheets and the distant calls of crickets. Suddenly, in the dead of night, a violent bang echoed through the room. Zhang Wei jolted awake to see his locker door swinging wildly as if an unseen force was thrashing it. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched in horror. The other recruits stirred but didn’t wake.

Sweat trickled down Zhang Wei's forehead. He stumbled out of bed and approached the locker, which had now gone eerily still. He hesitated, then opened the door. The bak kwa, which he had hidden very well within his underwear, was now on full display on top of the drawers and seemed to glisten menacingly in the dim light. Zhang Wei slammed the locker shut, his hands trembling.

Unable to shake the fear, Zhang Wei spent the next day in a daze. When night fell again, he dreaded sleep. Yet exhaustion overtook him, and he drifted off, only to be awakened by the same violent shaking of his locker. This time, he heard faint whispers, incomprehensible but filled with an unsettling urgency. The locker rattled louder, almost as if in anger.

Terrified and desperate, Zhang Wei knew he had to do something. The next morning, he approached the Platoon Commander and confessed his transgression. The PC's stern face grew even sterner. “You’ve brought something forbidden onto this island,” he said gravely. “This is not just a breach of rules. It’s a matter of respect.”

Zhang Wei was given two weekends of confinement as punishment. He would not be allowed to book out during their first bookout day. The PC took the bak kwa and disposed of it properly. That night, Zhang Wei lay in his bed, feeling a strange mix of relief and dread. The barracks were silent, the air heavy with anticipation.

When he finally fell asleep, it was a deep, dreamless slumber. No more banging, no more whispers. The oppressive atmosphere seemed to lift, and Zhang Wei awoke the next morning feeling more rested than he had in days.