Nuremberg Tour 18
My hand shakes as I tear open the thick DND envelope. Somehow it had seemed so far off, so unlikely until now. Canada has been at peace for centuries now, never once dragged along on adventures with our more aggressive neighbor. Why on earth would they even need a draft?
Basic training will be six weeks, held at the local armory. You continue to live at home, use the transit pass enclosed.
Monday to Friday 9:00 to 12:00 and 1:00 to 4:00 we will be at the armory in civvy clothes. At this stage they provide footwear only.
We are to show Monday in clothing suitable for an hour of walking outside. The rest either didn't read or didn't bother, I'm the only one in proper outdoor clothes.
Seeing it's hopeless, Sgt delivers a stern warning, tomorrow, you will be outside, no matter what you show up in.
She spends all morning fussing over footwear, getting everybody fitted with hiking boots.
The armory cafeteria sells lunch at just the cost of food content, is partly a training op for cooks and kitchen staff.
Being multicultural myself I buy poutine, that wonderful Quebec mix of French fries, gravy and melted cheese. It's awesome stuff, but not for the sedentary. The cholesterol level would kill a horse, so office workers should eat it very seldom. But myself, between linen rental and lotsa walking am the most fit looking of the trainees.
I've just paid for this and French roast coffee, when I hear Farzana call out, "Rachel, over here."
I join a table of NCO's. Proudly Farzana says, "this here is Rachel, she'll be my sidekick for the Nuremberg tour."
Everyone's eyes are on me, appraising. She introduces and I know I'll be lucky to remember half the names. One obvious looking Jew turns out to be named Naomi. One never knows, after the recent scandal, how she might feel.
Everyone's eyes shift to Naomi, waiting for her to speak. Matter of fact tone, "by now, you've all read or heard about it. She's not to blame for the death. He was an egomaniac and no, not her boyfriend or fiance. And when the world no longer recognized his 'great genius', he chose to leave."
Heidi, a typical German looker, asks tentatively, "so it's true, they sort of stuck you with finishing the book?"
I blush hotly, "one could say partly the shame factor, partly social pressure, mostly just seeing a way to turn the book into a happy ending."
Warm smile, "good, he wasn't doing anyone, German or Jewish, any favors with those endless books. And yes, you are going to have lotsa free time over there. See Ivan the Bear is shy, never once shows up to party."
Everyone roars with laughter and that is it. The scrutiny is over and social conversation starts. Farzana has been on three tours. The rest, two, three or four, so it's educational for me.
Basic training will be six weeks, held at the local armory. You continue to live at home, use the transit pass enclosed.
Monday to Friday 9:00 to 12:00 and 1:00 to 4:00 we will be at the armory in civvy clothes. At this stage they provide footwear only.
We are to show Monday in clothing suitable for an hour of walking outside. The rest either didn't read or didn't bother, I'm the only one in proper outdoor clothes.
Seeing it's hopeless, Sgt delivers a stern warning, tomorrow, you will be outside, no matter what you show up in.
She spends all morning fussing over footwear, getting everybody fitted with hiking boots.
The armory cafeteria sells lunch at just the cost of food content, is partly a training op for cooks and kitchen staff.
Being multicultural myself I buy poutine, that wonderful Quebec mix of French fries, gravy and melted cheese. It's awesome stuff, but not for the sedentary. The cholesterol level would kill a horse, so office workers should eat it very seldom. But myself, between linen rental and lotsa walking am the most fit looking of the trainees.
I've just paid for this and French roast coffee, when I hear Farzana call out, "Rachel, over here."
I join a table of NCO's. Proudly Farzana says, "this here is Rachel, she'll be my sidekick for the Nuremberg tour."
Everyone's eyes are on me, appraising. She introduces and I know I'll be lucky to remember half the names. One obvious looking Jew turns out to be named Naomi. One never knows, after the recent scandal, how she might feel.
Everyone's eyes shift to Naomi, waiting for her to speak. Matter of fact tone, "by now, you've all read or heard about it. She's not to blame for the death. He was an egomaniac and no, not her boyfriend or fiance. And when the world no longer recognized his 'great genius', he chose to leave."
Heidi, a typical German looker, asks tentatively, "so it's true, they sort of stuck you with finishing the book?"
I blush hotly, "one could say partly the shame factor, partly social pressure, mostly just seeing a way to turn the book into a happy ending."
Warm smile, "good, he wasn't doing anyone, German or Jewish, any favors with those endless books. And yes, you are going to have lotsa free time over there. See Ivan the Bear is shy, never once shows up to party."
Everyone roars with laughter and that is it. The scrutiny is over and social conversation starts. Farzana has been on three tours. The rest, two, three or four, so it's educational for me.
posted by afghangirlscifi @ 8:01 AM
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