If it's good enough for Jim Bowie, then it's good enough for us. Today we took "The Alamo" by force. Granted, being a SoCal element, we have a significant Mexican-American population, but I don't think it was much of an emotional event for any of them.
Side note: A game that we play with any of our out of region instructors, which seems to entertain all of our troops, is when reading a roll call of sorts and they hit either Sanchez/Rodriguez/Garcia/Hernandez/Ortiz is to all respond in unison "WHICH one!". Man that one kills, every time. The "Git 'R Dun" of CalGuard humor.
Right, right, so "The Alamo". Off the main base, in a remote area, meant to simulate more of a Forward Operating Base (FOB) environment. We loaded, bused/trucked, off loaded and now we're rocking in a new crib.
Not too bad. Open bay (meaning 30 or so bunk beds and wall lockers in a long room with no partitions), community showers (but they are new and have curtains, whatever), and a decent chow hall within a 5-10 minute walk.
Side note: Fresh Pico de Gallo that will grow hair on your chest (PG version, for the bambinos) and then singe it. Ay dios mio (something like that). Also, who it getting in the habit of drinking coffee at every meal? This guy (who has also been affectionately referred to as "The K", and digs it).
Home sweet home it is, for now. Let the group snoring, individual night-terroring, dream-FAPing, and various symphony of watch/phone/clock/Digimon? electronics commence, and the meetings roar on, like a freshly stoked fire on the patio of a cliff side Pasadena Hills palace.
I'll still be here, firing off witty retorts, chastising the grandes, trying to get swole, and hoping to not step on my crank. "Build to Brief!"
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