Nuremberg Tour 32

Well, I think, least the paint job is good. Perhaps it won't be so bad after all.
We disembark, unload just the gear which was carry on. Our main gear, in the hold of the plane, will arrive in a couple days.
Farzana unlocks the front door. Cheerful smile, "not bad compared to some of the guard posts. This here used to be a six room elementary school. Abandoned by the German government several decades ago. Reason, the economy tanked, most families with children departed. Now it's all done by bussing. The toilets, in there, they're original, but in good shape. First two rooms near the door, one is the combined office/storage room. See, not too bad. Now over here, lot better shape, done up as kitchen/dining room, with that row of shower cabinets along that wall."
I'm reading people's faces. Mary, from Lilac Valley Indian Reserve, looks impressed. Probably better than back home. Yvette, a Francophone who originated from a small poor farm on the Gaspe Peninsula, also looks happy. Me too, I've read enough history to know we're doing pretty good, considering this is the front line. Compare this to what World War One soldiers encountered in the trenches, or those brave American lads struggling on Guadalcanal. This is Cadillac.
Farzana continues, "now the other four classrooms, you roommate, two per room. See, it's huge, immense, your own space is like a lot of bachelor pads back home. Now, Rachel and I, we've already agreed to room together. Rest of you, take some time, decide. Remember, it ain't carved in stone. Long as all parties agree, I'll accept any and all changes."
That part isn't hard; the girls pair up into mutual friendships.
Once the gear is in, we brew coffee in the kitchen. And then it starts. It's easy to see where the line is drawn: myself, Mary, Yvette and Farzana are quite content, find nothing to complain about.
The others start in and vigorously. Why is there no internet? They'd prefer high speed of course, but dial up would be barely adequate. Why no satellite dish? The ancient TV in the corner will pick up only nearby German and Czech transmissions.
Why no phones? Why just one com device (with Farzana) for the group?
As it goes on and on, it's a harbinger of the future. So this is what await me when I become a M/Cpl next tour. No power to do anything, but hear all the complaints.
As it winds down a bit, Farzana shrugs, "you will recall this is a Canadian operation, lives within rather stringent Federal budget guidelines. And does quite well, I'd say. Now, who here would actually prefer to be a US soldier in Sudan? Maybe New Guinea is more your cuppa tea? Anyone for Angola or Chad or Yemen or maybe Bosnia grabs you?"
Some actually have the decency to blush, just a little.