It’s been 12 years and some months since I moved out of the last “Squad Bay” I ever lived in. I guess it’s not terribly fair to call this a squad bay. It’s more like a very privacy-be-damned barracks room for three with minimal furnishings and amenities. I have a rack, a locker, and a desk. There is one couch by the door, but it looks old and dank so I haven’t risked it yet. Attached to the space is a head with two of everything.
I’m sharing the space with a just-graduated non-rate on his way to the Munro, Kodiak’s 378’, and an SNET(?) en route to his PCS duty station in Attu. I should know him rather well after two days here and two weeks there.
There are two doors leading into the squad bay. The one to the left of my rack (which is in the middle of the room) leads to a hallway and stairs that get me to the main hallway. I have no idea where the door on the right goes. However, this morning someone waltzed in through said door to talk to the new guy to my right. When they left together, they went out through the right door (door on right?) and magically appeared in the dining facility while I was eating breakfast. My guess is you can get out that way.
I am so glad that I spent three months in St. Paul and not in this room. Attu should be a cake walk.
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