Which meant that we went to Wildflicken when we weren't at Atlas since it was easier to get to than fuck-off Alfenwehr from FSTS-317 AKA Atlas AKA Shithole Germany. Everyone left us alone, which suited us just fucking fine. It worked, in the weird cludgy way the 80's Army worked. Our deal was pretty simple: They give us a place to hang out when we weren't at Atlas we get access to their motorpool to work on our PoS Chevy pickup truck we get to use their chowhall we don't show up to their formations, alerts, or training days we don't tear up their barracks or get the MP's called on us we leave their soldiers the fuck alone, and everyone's happy. 144th had given my crew five rooms up on the third floor at the far end and installed a pair of wall lockers in the room I used for our secure and sensitive items.
Captain Ward, their CO, had enough on his hands after what was being termed as a 'race riot' had torn through the lower part of the barracks, so I guess that meant we were small potatoes. 144th was nice enough to let us stay even though we'd brought a whole bunch of heat down on us after the incident at Atlas, which was pretty cool of them all things considered. I was feeling a little frazzled after the last four days of interviews, reports, and being screamed at. The whole room smelled of brewing coffee, which was nice and soothing on my nerves.
For your convenience, here is the list of stories in this series.
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