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Time to nip it in the bud.
I jabbed my fist at my cellmate’s face with no warning and broke his nose with a wet crunch.
He stumbled backwards, stunned –
At which point I took him by the back of the neck and slammed his face repeatedly into the metal frame of the bunk bed.
WHAM – WHAM – WHAM – WHAM!
He dropped to his knees on the concrete floor, his face a bloody mess.
Time to drive home the message.
I grabbed the back of my cellmate’s head with both hands –
Pulled down –
And simultaneously swung my knee upward as hard as I could.
CRACK!
My cellmate collapsed backwards on the ground.
The muscular guy froze…
Looked down at the bloody pulp that had once been his friend’s face…
And slowly backed out of the cell.
Then he and the guy with the gut beat a hasty retreat.
I waited to see if they would return with reinforcements, but they never did. And everyone else who’d been watching gave my cell a wide berth.
After a couple of minutes, I dragged my cellmate’s limp body out into the hallway and dumped him onto the concrete floor.
Then I went back inside my cell to wait.
A few minutes later, five guards came racing up.
One of them yelled at me and banged his nightstick on the bars.
“Non parlo italiano,” I said calmly.
The guard shouted a few more angry phrases. Then his buddies grabbed the body by the arms and legs and carried him away.
Guess he wasn’t my cellmate anymore.
I had the guy’s blood all over my knee, but I figured it was a small price to pay.
Especially when I didn’t hear any more catcalls or threats.
92
Iquickly settled into a routine. Lights on and wake up at 6 AM… calisthenics and bodyweight training for an hour in my cell… breakfast at 7… morning roll call, free time, lunch, work duty, dinner, more free time, lights out at 10 PM.
I got assigned to laundry duty, which was bad but not horrible. The overpowering stench of industrial bleach… the filth and blood on the sheets… the heat and humidity… it was bad, but not nearly as bad as cleaning the toilets, so I had that much to be grateful for.
The food was absolute shit. Military food isn’t the greatest in the world by any stretch, but the meals at San Vittore made the cafeteria at Bagram Air Base look like a Michelin-starred restaurant.
