The first thing that they ordered to do us was to form in the stop, and to learn a new march style. We had to lift the very high knees and to beat with the boots in the ground with force. This style of marching was identical to the of the commands, and he didn't understand the reason. Also little or anything I interested. The vertical position was rigorous. The beard always in day, if it didn't admit the low fails in shaving. The cap with the emblem of the spider that identified as belonging to the weapon of the engineering communications, it was lightly fall for the right in the head, and the emblem had to be always in the vertical. The tie and the shirt always impeccable. The jacket also, with all of the buttoned buttons. The pants, safe to middle of the attackers of the boots, always well polished. The rigidity was such that in the exit reviews to they went the hand by the face to see if it was well shaved.
Our platoon commander was an applicant, almost always substituted by two corporals. We began our first Morse class with the corporal Silva, where some was noticed cry, as it is natural. The corporal Silva noticed us immediately that the instruction was very rigorous, and any indiscipline, the student would take immediately with RDM, Regulation of Military Discipline, or it would go to the prison.
First, we began with Morse classes in slow speed, with the time increased, so that if it turned very difficult to write the letters of the sounds that we heard.
The coffee Arcádia was close, and he had billiards. It was here that we passed the nights. He was always to overfill. It was thanks to us that he made good business. It was here that I met Neves. He participated in a debate in that it defended the end of the colonial war. For the argument I noticed that it was educated. It told me after they lacked him some school disciplines, and for that they sent him for the general contingent. In the barracks it surprised me with two books. The History will Absolve me of Fidel Castro, and Mao Tse-tung's Red Book. The books circulated of hand in hand with the largest discretion, or else we would be all arrested. I feared that somebody denounced us this event, but no, nobody made it. The friend of the close bed was catechist. Their interventions always had stamp religious person, an unhealthy fanaticism. Due to that, me and the Neves we passed to also call him Priest, and the whole barracks. With Neves and our public speaking, we put the man, it can be guaranteed, in the lines of the madness.
The debates turned true battles nuns… the Priest always lost. And when we heard screams was the perverted of Madragoa with yours equips, that before contained the doors of the barracks and with an immobilized victim, it lowered her the pants and later it pulled the hair close to the penis one to a, and telling them asked us if they were enough or not. In the next victim they would be her pulled more hair than the previous, because it was necessary to ratify the record.
Image: Arca de Água, Oporto, Portugal
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