Fort Stewart

The Army needed somewhere to hide 650 tanks and chose the one place in Georgia where the mosquitoes are large enough to request an LES and the humidity has achieved the consistency of warm soup. Hinesville exists because someone looked at a map and said 'soldiers need a place to buy vape juice and make questionable tattoo decisions,' and the town delivered exactly that with the enthusiasm of a PFC on his first weekend pass. Savannah is 40 minutes away and functions as the sole reason anyone reenlists here — cobblestone streets, rooftop bars, and a River Street that turns every weekend into a 'we probably shouldn't have done that' story. The sand gnats are issued at in-processing along with your sense of regret, and no, TRICARE doesn't cover the emotional damage from either. The 3rd Infantry Division deploys often enough that your go-bag has its own go-bag. The training areas are swamp, sand, and a particular flavor of misery that Fort Stewart has perfected into an art form. The DFAC has tried. The Waffle House has succeeded. When Savannah hits you right — Spanish moss, a cold beer, someone playing live music on a corner — you'll almost forget that you have to drive back to Hinesville. Almost.