Back to church

Our protagonist had grown up in the faith and used to attend the ceremonies of his parish. In his choir, he is first soprano and then “soloist” tenor. But at the barracks he realized right away that not everyone was the same. They looked the same in terms of the uniform, but they didn't.

It was the commander of the brigade who measured the knowledge of the Sailor's guide. The Galicians or those with a Spanish surname were only asked a couple of questions or three; the basic questions. But if I had trouble reading a Euskaldun surname, things changed a lot. It was so difficult to overcome that many resigned after several attempts.

And the priest in charge of psychotechnical tests. He felt bitter about the fact that people with higher education are proclaimed to be illiterate. In addition to believing that he was considered an idiot, he considered his lack of willingness to cooperate intolerable.

Rough kitchen

The food in the barracks was absolutely disgusting, not only in terms of cleanliness. He had to take a bundle from the kitchen, without a lid, crossing half a barracks. But the worst was the content. The menu consisted of two basic dishes: the marmite of hazelnuts – chicharro – with chunks of fish cooked in a red salsa, and the potato tortilla. The salsa was made with a chorizo rope, including the rope. Longaniza exploded when it was cut off and exposed the white content.

Rich tortillas were big round triangles. They did not look bad, but they did look uncommon: if you took one of the angles with the index and thumb, they kept the stiffness, that is, they didn't break or bend.

The Alternative was the Mariner's House. Once the dinner was over, the large bar opened, after receiving permission.

It was hard to find a place and it didn't take long. In spite of that, the dinner consisted of a paneca, instead of fried, burnt completely, a large glass of red wine and a warm milk.

With this, I could sleep while he was stuck at the exit of the barracks.

After a few days, they managed to leave the barracks. Although Ferrol del Caudillo is a city full of sailors, our protagonist felt strange among the people dressed as countrymen.

Soon a crew was formed between Cantabrians and Basques. They walked on foot, wanting to know all the corners, including Escardilla. It was a hill-shaped neighborhood, where there were prostitutes waiting for the sailors.