Editor’s note: This story comes from SN, a SOFREP reader, fellow intel guy, and good friend of mine. He had shared a mini AAR on his travels to Europe with me and I realized it was too good to pass up. Take what lessons and notes you can from his experience, and enjoy the story that goes along with it. This is part two of his experience.—14C

After spending a day in Rome and seeing the Coliseum, I did not want to spend another night in the city. So I ended up purchasing a ticket for a night train from Rome to Munich. I figured it would be an easy way to use my time effectively—I just wanted to get back to the States (Space-A out of Ramstein).

When I got on the train, the car I was assigned to was like something out of the Harry Potter books. Each cabin had room for about six people and was separated from the main hallway by a glass door/wall. Everything was dark-stained wood or glass—actually a pretty fancy old train car in my opinion.

I had gotten to the train early, so no one had entered my cabin yet. As I sat there, planning my return to Kaiserslautern and the Air Force base, my cabin door opened. To my surprise, a group of five Italian high school girls filled up my cabin. They were all very bashful and kept encouraging the bravest among them to talk to me. Finally one of them worked up the courage to ask me, “Do you speak English?”

“Yes, I do,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. Giggles and laughter. “American?” she asked. “Yes.” More giggles and laughter. I think the one who was talking to me was named Ferrari, if my memory serves me right. Needless to say, it was pleasant to talk to them in very basic English—turns out many high school students share similar concerns and opinions to their counterparts in the States. They even asked if I would become their Facebook “friends.”

After about an hour, they had to depart and said their goodbyes. I stayed on the train of course, as we had only gotten about two thirds of the way up the Italian peninsula. This is when things got interesting.

The train, at this point, officially became the “night train,” and the passengers who were boarding were now bound for Munich, as I was. It was about 1830 or 1900 if I recall correctly.

The first passenger to join me in my now-empty cabin was a tall Nigerian man. He was dressed in a traditional garb, including a very ornate cap. All of his clothes were pure white and spotless. He didn’t say a word the whole trip.