Sunday, November 16, 2014

You feel a shaking on the ground, a billion candles burn around, is it your birthday?

"Only the unknown frightens men. But once a man has faced the unknown, that terror becomes the known" Antoine De Saint-Exupery.

Fuck you Antoine. Fuck you for being right. And thanks in the same time.

When i walked through that dirty old gate of the army base camp i could not have imagined what was about to follow. I was being plunged into the unknown for 9 months. Yet i was not afraid. I was confident. Over-confident. And that would be my downfall because i underestimated things. I underestimated the fragility of the human soul and the patience one person can have for somebody, even for his/her loved ones.

I left that morning from my home around 6 am with the first bus. I was not afraid, because i would be close to the person i loved. Because no matter what happened, no matter what was thrown at me, i would not bulge, i would not be afraid, i would stand up and keep moving forward.

It was my birthday, 16/11/2012. And 2 years ago in this time of writing, it was the last night i ever slept happy again for a really long time until recently.

I was on the phone with Alexandra all the time until i got to Athens. From there i took the suburban train to the army camp of Avlona, a place where people got their initial training and ended up being tank specialists, marines and scumbags.

During my ride in the train i sat alongside another recruit. We didn't talk because i didn't care. In the next stop a 60 year old lady sat next to us and started talking. She asked us if we are new and about our lives and everything. I told her i love my girl and that i am joining the special forces army so i can be close to her.

Then i asked her where is she going. With a soothing calm voice she replied, but i could sense something is wrong. She was going to the cemetery to visit her older daughter, that died 5 years ago. She died from leukemia. She was very close to her younger sister, who could not withstand the loss of her beloved sister and had a heart failure 1 year later. She was 24 years old.

Her husband died 15 years ago from a stroke. So her daily life was to visit 2 cemeteries every day to pay her respects to everyone she ever loved. That is how i actually felt when my relationship ended. Like black death enveloped me and shrouded me for a long time. I will never forget this woman.

So i entered the army camp, where hundreds of new recruits were being enlisted by low-life thugs pretending to be of service to this glorious country. 75% of them were uneducated nobody's that managed to crawl their ways into that position and pretend they are men of importance while they are a hair of my left testicle.

We entered a ridiculously dirty room where they divided us in lines and they took our basic information as well as our civilian identities. I would not see it again for 9 months.

When my turn arrived the officer looked at my id, then at me. He actually used to date my cousin some years ago. She said he was an asshole. Well at least he treated me well. Fuck you nonetheless.

Then they gathered us like cattle in the yard where we had the chance to meet other recruits. I met a very feminine hairstylist without hair and a colossal tall man that smoked 37 cigarettes in 2 hours. The only thing i remember from him is a horrible imitation of "Gangam Style".

During that time i was on the phone with Alexandra, try to keep my cool, saying that it doesn't look so bad, that i will be alright. 2 hours in the sun later they sent us for tests. Blood tests, eyesight, any injuries etc.

They told us they would go in very soon so i kept calling her every 5 minutes. It must have been frustrating but i was oblivious to that fact. Silly me, ungrateful her.

Then they gave us uniforms and those horrible boots that have destroyed my ankles, feet and knees.

Finally around 22:00 we got sent to our bunkers, those filthy disgusting places with another 19 idiots to share the place for 24 days. We are talking of assholes of every quality. From farting, burping idiots, to pathological liars, to super-Mario looking plumbers, to golden dawn shaved head supporters and backstabbers.

I didn't care, because i had my girl right on the palm of my hand. Or so i thought so. Then i went to sleep. For the last time happy until i met Carita.

Goodnight Sweden, happy birthday to me.

No comments :

Post a Comment