I grew up being what you might call an army brat. We never moved around like a lot of military families but my father's army regiment still played a large part in my life.
They closed it down sometime in the late 90's and now it holds several companies and businesses. I had occasion to visit one such business the other day when we had to take Kelly to the vet. The vet office is situated in what used to be the medical building.
As soon as I walked through the door I could feel that special smell. You can't put your finger on it. It's like a mix between coffee and shoe leather and something else. Impossible to define. All I know is that I love it. The mess hall also smelled like that, but with a hint of food thrown into the mix. It's funny how some of the buildings still smell the same. It's as though the smell is firmly permeated in the walls.
The barrack buildings were these huge, yellow concrete buildings that always smelled of musky, old socks. They were sparsely furnished with metal bunk beds and simple chairs. There were attics and nooks and crannies, and I loved being there. Everything from the smell to the stale cookies that were always available in bulk boxes in the coffee room. I'd tag along with my father while he taught telecommunications to young guys doing their military service. I would sit there with my nose in a book or pretend that I was working there too, by stapling papers together or something like that.
All the military men were dry but friendly. When they joked with you, you were never quite sure whether they were kidding or not.
I miss that army regiment, just because it was such a safe, happy place. It smelled weird and it was stiff and dreary but it was a place of excitement. Even today that smell brings back fond memories and makes me feel oddly safe.
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