By the time I got there, Boot Camp was located on the west side of the CNW main line. That was one of the biggest struggles of boot- seeing the freedom of yet another commute whip by just a short hundred yards away while I was under Uncle Sam's captivity.
I also went by train, but by request. The lady at MEPS (processing station) in San Diego probably thought I was nuts, but she gave me a coach seat on Train 3 out of San Bernardino. The two days it took allowed for a lot of lounging and drinking on the train. I arrived at Great Lakes and was thoroughly pelted with screamed insults and questions that did not warrant an answer as all my collected timetables, brochures, snacks, magazines, newspaper and cigarettes were flung about in a spastic fashion.
Apparently, everyone else arrived by plane/bus and had clear instructions not to bring anything but the clothes on their back.