"Man, I heard them Miami girls give the best head. Like a gator they snatch it up like--"

Bobby mimed an alligator chomp with his mouth and hands, causing the barracks to break out into laughter. Bobby's face broke out into a wide grin as he packed his gear. Florida! Shit, it wasn't much better than being around here but it meant leaving Kentucky. It was alright living on base, even the redneck assholes had gotten used to negroes being in the army. But that was on base. Outside the walls, it was fucking Kentucky and Bobby was good enough to fight and die for them peckerwood sons of bitches, but he wasn't good enough to eat at the same lunch counter.

He imagined Florida would be little better. Shit, it was probably even worse with the Cubans. He'd heard stories about them from Mathis who was from outside of Miami. They'd been run out of their country by the Beard and acted liked they owned every goddamn thing. The Cubans came in and shouldered their way onto the second rung of the racial hierarchy. They White people hated them and cussed them, they turned around and they hated the negroes and cussed them. God Bless America.

"I hope we end up around Daytona," Mathis said with a grin. "They do some fucking car racing out on that beach, boy. Y'all would fucking love it."

"That would require the army to let us have fun," said Jacobs, one of the sergeants. "Since when is that going to happen."

"Shit," said Bobby. "We'd sooner see that bald motherfucking Russian be elected president before we see that shit."