THE PLACE WAS FILLED WITH OLD ARTILLERY GUNS. There only ever seemed to be two sounds that came from this building: one was yelling, the other was bagpipes.
It always seemed surreal: looking in through a crack in the door. It felt voyeuristic. The recruits always looked so stiff, being keenly aware that it is not normal to wear forest camouflage in the middle of a city. But there was free college at the end of this hazing. Free college.
Sometimes they must have broke concentration for a second or two and seen people looking in, at their camouflage, with their tanks out front, with their shaved heads, wearing their badges. It all made quite the display.