Important note
This a story of gay fiction for a mature audience. It contains consenting sex between men. If this offends you, leave or is illegal where you live, leave now.
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Breaking Rank
From the 1970s to 1990s, hundreds of thousands of white young men were called up for military service, most of them going through extreme physical training and many being sent to fight the war in northern South West Africa (now Namibia) and Angola. This story is set in the early 1980s.
We lined up on the platform in Johannesburg station early in the morning, and orders were being shouted out from all directions. I was nervous as hell not knowing what I was in for. Once we were on the train the shutters were pulled down and we quietly spoke to each other. Much of the conversation was in Afrikaans.
When we arrived at the station in Potchefstroom and were divided into groups. Corporals shouted us onto military Beford trucks, and we sat facing each other with our bags at our feet. The drivers drove fast and made sure they sped up over bumps to give us a `rofie-ride'. We fell about. At the military base, an entire production line was set up which included a medical examination wearing our underpants, haircuts, and the allocation of uniforms and blankets. We were literally pushed around and required to jog everywhere, and instructions were being barked at us in Afrikaans.
Later in the afternoon we were divided into platoons and sent to our tent. Klipdrif Medical Training Centre was a converted old school and didn't have the capacity to accommodate over 1 500. There was congestion in the bathrooms as well as in the dining room where we ate in two sittings. It was there I learned to eat off a varkpan' (pig pan), a metal tray with indentations for different parts of the meal. That evening we were served landmine fish" - fish mixed with mashed potato.
There wasn't enough hot water and most of us had to have cold showers in the middle of winter. Our tent had beds in it and a little metal locker and what they called a chest called `trommel'. I was warm enough that night, but the temperatures dropped to minus numbers and ice had formed on the tent canvas during the night.
We started with an early morning run and physical education session on the parade ground, everyone was sweating. Breakfast consisted of two overcooked boiled eggs and three slices of bread. It was so cold that morning that when you washed the `varkpan' the water froze on the icy metal. We were on the parade ground by 8 being marched around by our platoon leaders. I don't think that I had ever been as cold and fortunately, the temperature rose after sunrise, and I warmed up.
At around 11 we had a welcome talk from the commanding Officer Colonel Brandt. He was pleasant and switched between English and Afrikaans in his speech. He explained policies and procedures and emphasised that he did not want us to iron our clothes, as it wasted electricity. He also didn't want us to bite' the corners of our beds or bone' our shoes, as this was unhygienic. He asked us to report any swearing by officers and to tell him if there were problems with the food. I couldn't believe my ears.
Colonel Brandt was mellow now. He had been an uncompromising tough commanding officer at a military base in Upington where there was a mass walkout, before being transferred to our base. Our base accommodated many medically related graduates, some of whom would become officers and the Colonel treated them with kid gloves.
Basic training lasted three months and we were kept very busy. We marched, had propaganda lectures, first aid training, physical education, and what they called musketry among other things. We got up early and had loads of what they called "straf PT" or punishment physical education at odd hours.
In the 1980s the army was one place where your sexuality had to be kept secret. You didn't want to attract the label gay, fairy, moffie, poofter, or queer. You would be persecuted relentlessly, even in the medical services where things were a little more relaxed.
I did come across two guys having sex in the sickbay one night after I had completed my basic training. The one medic, a conscript, was on night duty. I was asked to deliver a message from the guard duty office as the phone was out of order. When I got into the darkened room, I found one of the other conscripts between his knees giving him a blowjob. I apologised for interrupting and told them that I would say nothing, and I suggested that they lock the door in the future.
A month into basic training the officer in charge of our platoon, Lieutenant Sean Du Toit, asked me to help me with some planning documents that evening in the office. He was also a conscript and about my age. Computers were not in everyday use in those days and administration was time-consuming. He had given me an office key and I decided to go in a little ahead of time. I never anticipated what I walked into. Sean was standing at the basin with his military shorts at his ankles wanking vigorously. His eyes were closed and his globular arse cheeks shaking. He paused for a moment.
"Close the bloody door and lock it."
I was stunned for a moment and moved towards him and put my hands on his arse cheeks. He turned around and pushed my head towards his erect cock. I got my lips over his mushroom head and let his cock slide into my mouth. Sean moved his hips as he slowly fucked my mouth, next thing he started to come in my mouth, and I swallowed his cum. He was breathless and fell into his chair.
He pulled me towards him slipped down my shorts and took my erect cock into his mouth. He sucked me expertly and at times it felt as if my cock was touching his tonsils. He held my arse and got one finger into my hole. The next thing I was coming in his mouth. What happened next surprised me even. When he stood up and embraced me, our bodies touched, and then he kissed me deeply sharing my own cum with me.
"Nothing of this to anyone," he said.
We did a little bit of planning, but we were both far too distracted. So, it wasn't long before we fooled around again.
We went to the shooting range once a week and had one long hike over a couple of nights on the neighboring farms. On this hike, we slept in the bush and had to apply black camouflage to our faces to simulate conditions in a bush war. In summer when the veld was green, the area was quite beautiful, in fact, we were on the edge of what is now recognised as a World Heritage site called the Vredefort Dome.
Nothing happened between us until the week before the end of basic training. Sean called me to help him in the office in the evening. This time I was more ready and took a shower before going to the office. I was burning with desire that evening.
Sean was at his desk and I saluted him and then went and stood behind him to see what he was doing. I put my hands on his shoulders and massaged his neck. He took my arm pulled me down and kissed me. We both removed our brown T-shirts and shorts. We were wearing boxers, and our erections were obvious. He pulled me onto his lap, and I felt his cock pressing on my arse. He pulled me toward him and kissed me again. I rubbed my arse against his cock and he moaned.
Next, he was on his knees in front of me sucking. He then moved me onto the desk and lifted my legs. He had some cream in his desk drawer and lubed my hole, he stuck two fingers in, and massaged. He smeared cream on his cock, and then he moved closer to penetrate me. It was painful at first, but it became easier once his entire cock was in. I enjoyed feeling him in me and squirmed every time his cock hit my prostate. He leaned over and kissed me at the same time. It wasn't long until I felt him shoot inside of me. The thought of him ejaculating got me shooting my load on his stomach, and I licked it off later.
Let me be honest. It wasn't the most romantic setting, but the sex was intense and gratifying. In the public living conditions that we were in there weren't even spaces to masturbate in. In fact, there was a rumour that the army added copper sulphate to our food to reduce the libido of the conscripts, but I doubt if this was true.
I had volunteered to stay on at Klipdrift to help with camp administration. Lieutenant Du Toit left with the company the next week to do border duty in South West Africa, and never I saw or heard from him again.